Linkin park in the end

Hello everyone!
This is my first post here. I am aiming to shift to Pune by the end of July.
I run a YouTube channel with a decent following now. (Don't worry, this is not a plug. I won't be posting any links. It's just for context.)
My shift to Pune is to get away from home and be productive. I want to create more content and have a space (1 BHK or 2/3 BHK sharing) where I can customise everything in my room to my liking. Gharpe hote hai toh it's too much to ask parents to do everything according to my schedule. I cannot invite other creators to my place regularly and have those late-night discussions. Not that they deny any of that but I don't want them to cross their comfort zone for me. I kind of think of them a lot and that has led to a heavy decline in my productivity. Hence, the decision to just move away.
I have a day job in IT. The office is in Kharadi, but it is chill. Nobody is forcing me to attend it regularly. I may need to go for like once a month or not even that.
I love being amidst nature. Extremely into Treks, Cinema and Theatre. Heavily interested in Dancing and Sports.
So, I am searching for areas which can allow me to stay near some parks. Or hilltops. I want to spend my evenings or weekends surrounded by greenery or watch sunsets from some hilltop. But at the same time, I don't want to go too much in the outskirts that I don't have access to any good Cinema halls or dance classes. I don't want to be too disconnected either! I love being around people and would want to connect with other creators and Cinema enthusiasts and enjoy my time with them!
Are there any localities/societies that can give me the best of both worlds? Or am I being too ambitious? :)
Your help is much appreciated. Also, if you are aiming to shift to Pune in July, I'd be more than happy to connect and see if we can take up some place together! :)
Thank you!

I thought I’d add a trip report for Universal Studios Japan as I found some of this detail was hard to find online (e.g. the opening time!) My husband and kids (aged 8 and 11) visited USJ on a weekday in mid April.
Tickets: All purchased through Klook without any problems. Printed at home to save the hassle of flicking through four passes on my phone every time. We bought the 7 Express Pass which was worth every cent. We also bought the Early Entry studio pass, designed to let us in 15 minutes early. That wasn’t entirely accurate, see paragraph below!
Entry times: We had read online that the park opens an hour before the posted time. Not today! The posted time was 9am, and we turned up at 8:15. The park opened at around 8:40. At this time, the regular lines and the Early Entry lines opened all at once. But it was still definitely worth buying the Early Entry pass, because the lines were much, MUCH shorter. If you’re using an Early Entry pass, just show the attendants when you turn up and they’ll direct you to the Early Entry lines.
Super Nintendo World: We had already reserved an entry time for Super Nintendo World at 10:50 through our express passes, but we didn’t want to wait. We checked the app as we walked in at 8:50, and we could get an entry time to SNW at 9:10. We went straight there, lined up, and they let us in 15 minutes early! We found the same for all of our express passes too: They would allow us in at least 10 minutes earlier. Perhaps it’s because it wasn’t a particularly crowded day (still crowded, but not a weekend or holiday). In brief, SNW is everything you’ve seen online, but so spectacular in person.
SNW power up bands: We bought these at the first kiosk, but should’ve followed the advice online and walked further into the area. There were power up band kiosks with no queues inside. We didn’t really get much value for money out of these: the kids had fun hitting the blocks and coins and interacting with them a little on the rides, but they couldn’t be bothered to wait in the long queues for the more elaborate games. There’s a big challenge which requires playing several games to collect keys to enter a boss level. It probably would have taken an extra hour or two, but we were ready to go on more rides.
Jaws: We went on this next, but there was no need for a fast pass as the queue was very short. It was entertaining enough despite being in Japanese. We would have preferred to ride the Hollywood roller coaster; our 7 express pass had that as an alternative to Jaws, but unfortunately it’s currently closed.
Minions Mayhem: This was the best 3D movie ride I had ever been on (until we went on Soaring at DisneySea!). Both are excellent. The intro videos have English subtitles; the main 3D movie ride didn’t, but there wasn’t much dialogue. Very fun, enjoyed by all. Walked past the other Minions ride, Freeze Ray Sliders, but looked like a version of spinning teacups, not worth the ever-lengthening queue times.
Mario Kart: Koopa’s Challenge: Probably our favourite ride for the day. It’s a combination ride / 3D movie / interactive experience with virtual goggles – worth every bit for the express pass, and worth the queue if you don’t have an express pass!
Yoshi’s Adventure: Very much a young kids’ ride and can be skipped! Even our kids looked bored. There are good views, but not much that you can’t see elsewhere. (As an aside, the two best views of the not-yet-opened Donkey Kong Country were found at the peak of the Flight of the Hippogriff rollercoaster, and on the Tempozan Ferris Wheel which we visited the day before.)
Flying Dinosaur: Our 11-year-old doesn’t like extreme roller coasters, but our 8-year-old was unsure as she has liked some bigger roller coasters before. We decided that my husband and I would ride it while the kids watched (and took videos, hilarious) and we could tell her afterwards if it was too scary. DEFINITELY too scary, haha. I love roller coasters, and I closed my eyes in parts. I’m so glad I did it, but it’s not for the faint-of-heart.
Jurassic Park meet and greet: We happened to walk past as the dinosaurs were coming out. Cute for the kids, but not worth structuring your day around. I wish the Jurassic Park log flume ride was open, but it’s currently still closed.
Waterworld: We queued for this 20 minutes before show time, but we needn’t have bothered, as the seating area was huge. They were still letting people in as the performance began, and none were having trouble finding seats. We could have chosen the front row, but we sat slightly behind the ‘splash zone’ so we wouldn’t get wet. Sitting higher up afforded a better view too, but views would have been good from anywhere. The plot was simple enough to follow without understanding Japanese – fun and good for a long rest for our already tired feet!
Hogsmeade: Utterly stunning, all of it: The shops, the food, the performances (singing frogs and magical beasts turned up regularly). We ate at the Three Broomsticks, which appeared crowded with a long queue, but with an app to order, it cleared quickly enough. There were plenty of empty tables out the back, with a view across the lake to Hogwarts! My kids had wanted to try butterbeer for so long, but it was sickly sweet, like bubbly maple syrup. It was quite difficult to find a place to dispose of the rest of the drink so we could take the souvenir cups home, but eventually we just dumped the contents in the bathroom sink.
Interactive wands: These were much better value for our kids, and they took part in five of the seven interactive spells before exhaustion hit at the end of the day. The first (wingardium leviosa!) was not being managed by staff, so it was hard to get it to work. It had about a 50% success rate. The later ones were all managed by very kind and patient staff (who also happened to speak excellent English) who allowed each guest to keep trying until it worked. It meant the queues were slow-moving, but most were short enough, and my kids were happy to wait while they watched others attempting the spells.
Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey: We were so excited for this one, but it scared both my kids a bit! The 8-year-old because of the giant dementors (both on-screen and big animatronics), and the 11-year-old because the chair actually tipped a really long way back and forward. She was worried we would go right upside-down, but we didn’t. It was a lot more intense than we had expected. I really loved it, but be careful if you have sensitive kids.
Flight of the Hippogriff: This is a pretty tame roller coaster, and I’m not sure why people would queue two hours for it. The kids loved it, though. One warning: my six foot tall husband had to be moved to the front row as his legs didn’t fit!
Minions Mayhem again: We noticed on the app that there was only a 10 minute queue for Minions Mayhem, so my husband and 8-year-old had another go. A 10 minute queue means no queue at all, as it takes 10 minutes to walk through and watch the intro videos. We checked the app, and all the more popular rides still had huge queues, so decided to call it a day.
All up, we were there from opening to 6pm, and were utterly exhausted by the end of it. Plan a quieter day for afterwards, if you can! And we were very jealous of the people staying in the hotel right by the park – in hindsight it would have been worth the extra packing and unpacking to shift to that hotel for the night before and/or after.

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

I recently was reminded of "Key to the Grammacy Park" by Deadsy, an industrial rock band (think Zeromancer or Orgy) which was moderately hyped on MTV back in 1999, the front man Elliah being Cher's and Greg Allman' son. I hadn't heard anything from them in 20 years, which turns out to be the case since they actually hadn't released something in roughly that time until this year.
I moved in Industrial music circles at the time and we all liked them that album and the whole project, but reading up on them it happens the critics weren't particularly enthusiast with their music and the band, once considered among us an industrial rock instant classic, is in fact what TV Tropes elegantly describes as a mainstream obscurity. It was supposed to be Orgy, ends up being , i don't know, Angelspit.
What is that band you swore was super popular and ended up not being that?

When my roommate and I were looking at pictures of a park showing horseshoe pits, he said "I have horseshoes in my car". Then I said "Oh, my horseshoes, I forgot all about them!" Then he acted very upset . . . and would not say OR agree that they were mine!
He kept calling them "our horseshoes" and ended with "WE have horseshoes". . . We are not even dating much less married!
What would you think or say to that kind of behavior? How strange is that to hear?
Note: My horseshoes, along with a few other odds and ends, have been stored in the trunk of the car he keeps as a hobby.

I got into an accident today and it was my fault. I rear ended someone at a red light. It was a very light tap to the back of their car but I still hit them. There was no damage to either of our cars. I followed car to a parking lot and parked beside a little farther from them because there was no space close to them. Some people got out of the car and went into the store. I got nervous and did one more loop around the parking lot to see if there was a better spot for me to park. By the time I came back, the driver of the car I hit was already gone. I’m not sure if this would count as a hit and run since I did come back. I don’t want to get charged for that, especially since I was there. I also don’t know if that can even be reported since there was no damages to either of our vehicles. I live in MD so that person can file an insurance claim whenever they want or a hit and run claim if they have a dash cam. This was around 16 hours ago and I’m freaking tf out because of this.
More context (not necessary):
I’m only 90% sure I hit the car. I was at a red light and my phone fell on the floor. I had to reach over to get it and I guess I wasn’t pressing the break hard enough so my car was rolling forward. I heard my car beeping letting me know I was getting to close to something so I slammed by breaks. But I was so close to the car that I’m 90% sure I hit it or was 1mm away from hitting it. I also felt a small jerk from car and I don’t know if it was because of my auto lock breaks since I slammed it of because I tapped the car in front of me. As I was driving behind it I looked at the back of their car and couldn’t see any damages. There was no damages on my car either.

Long story short and as much as it sucks to say, I haven't really experienced much of anything. I'm going to intentionally beat around the bush as to what category that "experience" falls under but I think most people should be able to figure it out lol. In other words (and if you play games), I'm a complete noob when it comes to all things girls. As for why those things haven't happened and why I want that to change.. There's a few reasons, but the main reason why I'm putting such an emphasis on this is because I'm a huge homebody and I don't go out much at all which makes it difficult to meet people. That's where Reddit comes in! The message I'm essentially trying to send is becoming physically and emotionally close with a girl is what I want the most. I want to experience it all; the laughs, excitement, curiosity, intimacy, hanging out, fun. Blame all the Disney movies I watched as a kid for that lol.
Finding someone would be a dream come true, but I'd love to find friends too if that's all you're looking for! Local or international, just let me know if that's what you want instead :) We could end up being really close friends and you'll introduce me to a friend who I end up being with? That may or may not be the plot from a romcom 🤔 So that means I definitely wouldn't be opposed to a relationship! I've obviously never been in one so I'm not exactly sure how to transition to that, haha. I totally wouldn't mind finding out, though :) Also someone to say good morning and night to, too. That would be the best even if it's incredibly cheesy.
Anyway, it could be someone with a lot of experience or someone with no experience like me, or introverted or not introverted, etc. I don't have a preference either way :) But if I were to be reaaally picky: they'd be sweet and down to earth because just cuddling on its own would be all kinds of cool. A bit about me: I'm shy, caring, kind, sweet and am normal in the weight and height categories. I want to say I'm cute in the looks department? 🙈 I'll let you decide that though lol. I think it's super fun learning about people through conversation so I'll leave the following hobbies section blank. Then again, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give a small hint to something I love.. My username should provide clues to that! I Siriusly need to re-watch the movies again. Maybe with someone I meet through r4r?
Alright, I can't hold it in anymore. I pretty much like a little bit of everything. For example, when it comes to music, I go through Backstreet Boys phases to Disney song phases (Moana is awesome and I haven't even seen the movie 🙊) to something like Linkin Park, Paramore or 50 Cent. What I'm trying to say is I like a little bit of everything! So there's a good chance I'll like whatever you like when it comes to hobbies and interests and that means connecting with each other should be relatively natural/seamless. Or maybe that's wishful thinking on my part, haha.
I'm not the best with openers and if you're also in the same boat, then how about this: If you could have any superpower what would it be and how would you use it? Being out of this world smart like Tony Stark is an acceptable super poweanswer, by the way.
Hopefully my first impression is a good one! If anyone is even remotely interested, then just let me know and I'll get back to you asap!

(Part 2 out now)
I woke up with a cough of blood and pain. I felt something metal with my hands as I looked down. A long stint of rebar poked out of my ribcage and through my chest plate, covered in a mix of my blood and the bile of a bug.
I reached down and grabbed my Senator, feeling its trusty weight in my hands. I haphazardly tried to place the barrel against the portion of rebar sticking out of my back. This had better work, I thought. I pulled the trigger once and with a loud Crack I felt the vibration from the shot in my stomach. I tried to choke down vomit and pulled the trigger twice more Crack, Crack. With the third shot the rebar gave way and I rolled to my side and collapsed on the ground. Agony shot through my body as I hit the dirt.
I realized then, Hmmph, they left me. During Extraction one of the other divers called in a 500kg as we were about to board Pelican 1. She had thrown it over one of those damned chargers in an effort to kill one last bug but... it started charging us. I was the last one in line and just as I was about to board... i was thrown 200 feet away from extraction site. I don't blame them. I'd have left me too. We had successfully evacuated a number of scientists and other military personnel, but we'd lost the planet. No hard feelings I guess.
I tried to pull my mind away from those thoughts and just focused on one. Survive. I pulled myself to my knees and looked at the rebar again. Cant park there bud, I thought tryna cheer myself up. I had dropped my senator when I fell and ended up with two free hands. I reached down and with the assistance of my servo-assited armor prepared to wrench the rebar from my chest. Alright, count of three, I thought. One my heartrate quickened. Two I adjusted my grip ever so slightly. Three I ripped the metal rod out and felt a hot stinging pain shoot through my body. I quickly grabbed a stim and applied it.
I winced as the stim numbed my broken ribs and began rapidly working to heal them and my open chest wound. After a couple seconds, I could stand.
I took quick stock of my inventory. My Senator with 23 rounds left, two ration packs, a canteen of water, 1 stim, a knife, and a bag of oatmeal. Oatmeal? Seriously? I'd rather have ammo but... beggars can't be choosers.
I looked around me. Snow and beaten down rubble surrounded me. This was some kind of research station, I think. Didn't bother grabbing the name. Cold as hell and nothing really around to get my bearings. Great. I thought. Im gonna die inside a freezer. I started looking through the rubble for anything useful. I found a corpse of one of the scientists that hadn't made it to evac. I grabbed the ID card off his jacket. Figured It'd get me inside a building if there were any left standing. I crawled out of the rubble and onto the snowy tundra.
The sun had set and with it most of the light I would've been able to utilize. I scanned the horizon for a blinking light. Blinking like meant beacon. Beacon meant possible radio, maybe some ammo. I clocked one to the southwest and began walking that direction senator drawn.
I spotted a few distant bug patrols illuminated by moonlight but they had no interest in me. I kept my head down and kept moving towards the light. Details started to take shape and I could see this was a research station. Perfect I thought.
I reached the door and used the key card. There was a Beep and the red light flashed green. The door cracked open before jamming. Oh no you dont, I thought and with one hand yanked the door open. I closed it behind me with the same hand to keep the wildlife disinterested.
Inside was dark and damp. I had lost the seal integrity on my suit so there was barely any oxygen regulation. Didn't need it on this planet but still, it's a bitch to fix. I turned my flashlight on and started scanning the room for a light switch. I found one but wouldn't ya know it... dead. At least the beacon had power. I walked over to the radio and pulled off my helmet. I wedged the flashlight in my neck and leaned my head to the side. I started flipping switches and turning dials to see if there was a response. Nothing. Id have to find the master terminal. I grabbed the flashlight and donned my helmet again. I began scanning the room again before I heard it. A little shuffle behind me. I turned quickly and drew my senator raising it at the source of the sound.
It was a small child. At least... thats what it appeared to be. At first glance I could see bindings on its legs and arms. A hospital gown with little ducklings on it and a teddy bear tucked under its arm. I lowered my senator as it spoke.
"Dr. Mehon told me to wait here. He said hed be right back."
Dr. Mehon was probably dead I thought. I knelt down and put my hand on the child's shoulder. "Whats your name kid?"
"3". I felt a rage build up. I swallowed it quickly.
"Well 3, what uh... why.. why do you have bin.." I stopped myself. Whatever those scientists were doing here...
3 looked up at me and I noticed it. A cat like set of eyes. Other little details started to click as well. Four fingers on each hand, slightly pointed ears, a discoloration of skin and a rigid scale-like spine on the shoulder.
"The radio doesnt work mister." 3 seemed to have understood their situation. "Dr Mehon destroyed it before he left."
I realized then that it was unlikely either of us would make it off this planet alive.
EDIT: Part 2 out now! (Part 2's a lil shorter) I Didnt think itd get this many upvotes and comments. Ill keep writing then. Feel free to suggest names for 3!

Sydney
parking space Hi there! I'm looking for advice with dealing with an annoying neighbour who keeps using our private parking space. He keeps parking his bike in the middle of it - mostly he parks it in between our and his space (he has a large car on his as well) - so its on both sides. When he takes it in and out, he managed to scratch our car, so we kept our car elsewhere - this has been going on for 5 months. Police doesn't want to touch it. Strata sent them a letter to instruct them to stop doing this, but obviously it didn't do anything. We managed to get the by law modified, so we can erect an enclosure around our parking spot. This is set to commence tomorrow morning. Neighbour have been notified of the works - now he parked his bike again in the middle of our parking spot - obviously to prevent the works being done. Strata seems powerless. Tow companies don't touch it, as its private property. Police said to go through strata. There is no talking to this guy - he's massive, probably on steroids, absolutely threatening and vile. What can I we do?? I'm honestly at the end of my wits, does anybody have some advice?

My aunt F(40) and I F(25) agreed to both get an apartment with both of our names on the lease. She was in a rush to get an apartment as she had just had a divorce, and I wanted my own place after moving out of my boyfriend’s parent’s house.
She was in a rush to sign the papers and move in because she had nowhere else to go. Her sister (my other aunt) allowed her to live in her house rent free for a couple months before she needed to look for a place. So once she found out, I was breaking up she took it as an opportunity to get a roommate.
I feel like me being naïve and new to the lease signing process was seen as an opportunity to take advantage. The day of signing the lease they told us that we couldn’t view the unit because it wasn’t ready and I told her that I didn’t sign it because I don’t know what the condition is but she insisted that we do and that we can fix it later, so I did trusting her.
Once we move in, it’s a very old department and we are paying roughly 1,500 in rent. It’s a two bed two bath. It comes with the garage for a single car, which she has claimed since she pays more. She has the master bedroom with a standup shower and a bathtub as well as “his and her sink”. I have the guest restroom, which is just a simple small bathroom with a tub shower, toilet and sink.
Initially, the agreement was the I pay a portion of the rent, electricity and Internet. Her mother, which is my grandmother was trying to help us get us into our own place so sent her $5000 which was supposed to be divided by two which would give $2500 to her and $2500 to me. I didn’t know about this until recently as she hid it and was acting like it was given to her for months, and even made it seem like she was being nice by helping me out since I couldn’t afford some stuff during she furniture shopping. So when we went shopping for the apartment, I tried to help pay for half of groceries and little furnishings that I could afford out of my pocket. When it came to picking out couches, she made it seem like a very carefree experience (not paying attending to price) and was looking for a very big couch that was lavish and when I told her I couldn’t afford it, she said don’t worry Grandmother is helping us out. (but we’re just spending my portion of the money on the couch she wanted) If I had known that MY money was going towards that couch, I would’ve definitely chose a cheaper one and put more thought into selecting it.
I had a gut feeling about the spending and asked my grandmother about the “help she gave us”, she told me the truth: that $2500 should have gone to me, and she’s sorry that she didn’t clarify it soon as she sent it. She thought my aunt would’ve done the right thing and give it to me to help me purchase my furniture for my room. Later she went shopping for a brand new mattress and began shopping for more furniture and decor. Meanwhile, my room is full of free furniture that is used and that I’ve gotten from family members storage and IKEA furniture that I bought out of my own pocket.
I am a full-time student, receiving assistance from the gov receiving 1400/month as a Veterans dependent. And I also do commissions on the side to make extra money. So I live very frugally naturally and am a minimalist tbh and yes I CAN afford bills and own groceries. I’ll also watch all her animals while she’s out of town for free (2 cats and 1 dog). I only have one cat and often clean the whole apartment, including helping her with her laundry that sits in the washedryer. Since i see it as a contribution and helping her out.
The agreement has changed in the past four months that I’ve lived with her. We are 4 months into a 14 month lease. She pays $1200 a month for rent, I am responsible for everything else. That being: whatever is left of rent, water, electricity, Internet, and I have to pay for my own parking every month at the apartment we stay (she gets garage so she doesn’t have to pay parking)
Lately she’s been asking me if I’m going to get a job and to start contributing more towards the rent, which caught me off guard as I thought we had already come to an agreement on the rent/bills situation before signing the lease and revisiting about a month ago. Right now I’m roughly paying $600-$700 in utilities and rent combined. If it gets more expensive and bills go up I am responsible for the overages and she seems to like to leave the AC low and lights on. She’ll leave her clothes in the washer and forget to throw them in the dryer and end up washing them again. The same thing with the dryer. Even if it’s dry she’ll, have to redry it to “freshen it up”.
I’m also probably undiagnosed OCD, my only complaint to her is to be clean and at least keep common areas tidy. She likes to leave things in the sink overnight, dump her weeks worth of coffee cups that she brings from work in the sink and leave them for hours. Her dog will pee around the apartment and I find it after it dries up and becomes sticky after I step in it. I’ve mentioned these issues before, but she seems to shrug them off and give me excuses.
I’ll leave for days at a time and give her a notice on when I leave and come back because I know I am leaving my cat with her, but I make sure he always has food and I come by and check on him, clean litter box and tidy up around the place if I’m staying at my boyfriends, which is only 20 minutes away. She complain the fact that I’m gone too long. And when I’m at the apartment, it seems to bother her that I do school from home and can work from home doing commissions. I’m an introvert.
She is a shopping addict and is in debt and also runs a business that is in the red, she has no children and she seems to be living above what she can afford. Her ex husband is needing help financially and I think it’s affecting her financially. In the end she’s asking for me to help her as she is struggling with her lifestyle, relationship, and business.
Some people might say that my situation isn’t that bad or that I’m overthinking, but since this is a family member, it’s hard to set boundaries as well as stand up for myself when I respect her as an aunt.
She’s came to me offering to help me in the beginning when I was looking for a place and now it seems like a trap. My parents asked me to move back in so that I could save money and avoid rent but she said if I move out I’m fully responsible for breaking the lease or paying for her to downsize into a single bed room unit, which would be $1300 in fees or more. I want to stand my ground since my name is on that lease and we made an agreement. I’m frustrated and really need advice. Am I wrong, should I help more or is she just taking advantage.

Before I go any further with this I know I have done some pretty stupid things over the years and I never really believed in the paranormal until this incident happened.
So about when me and my best friend were in highschool (year 11 to be exact) I was staying over at her place for the weekend after I had finished my work shift, it was around this time my best friend had an art project that was due soonish and she didn't have any inspiration to help her create something original. Then she came up with the idea to do a freaky photo shoot to see if that would help inspire her to create something ( and I ended up being her muse you could say) and mind you she is very much into special effects and stuff as she is a make-up artist in the making. So by the time she was finished with the make up you could say I looked like a decaying and walking corpse.
We decided to take some photos out in her backyard and then go analysis the pictures some got her attention and some didn't, so then I cleaned myself up and then we tried again, but this time an elf like character. That's when I got the "brilliant"(not so brilliant ) idea that maybe we should got to the nearby lake since there was some awesome places there that would be perfect. Mind you it was already 11:30pm at night.
The first mistake we made was actually going through with that idea at 11:30pm at night which well it was pretty stupid to begin with since will all the bad things happening around our local area ( missing people/ animals, murders etc), that alone should have been a clear indication that we shouldn't be going.
That wasn't a thought to us in the slightest,
So when my best friend drives us there and parks in the big empty car park( which was another clear indicator that we really shouldn't be there), we just sat in her car for a good minutes just discussing how the photos should be taken.....then that's when I got a chill down my spine and the sensation that we were being watched from somewhere. That feeling never left and to this day I can't believe my stupid self had just blantanly ignored that altogether. I wasn't the only one ,my best friend also got the exact same feeling I did and then we proceeded to get out of her car and start taking photos like we discussed. She has fake realistic swords and other weapons so we were using those as props and Everything was going perfectly fine (besides feeling like we were being watched).
What happened next still makes my heart stop, because the place we were at had hiking and biking trails as well as being surrounded by a woodland area. What we heard whilst in the middle of taking some more photos was the sound between a strangled and drying animal mix with a high pitch human scream and when I tell it sounded way too close comfort, I mean it sounded to close for comfort. That sound lasted for a good solid minute (just one singular sound with no breath in-between it) then it stopped and went erriely quiet. Way too quiet.
Now looking back on it, there was no sound of insects making any noise when we got out of the car and there was very certainly none after that sound. Which only means that there was a predator or something of the sorts nearby. I thought I was just hearing things or thought it possibly was just a native animal of sorts.
At this point me and best friend were starting to freak out a little bit, because then we heard the sound of sticks on ground snapping in half to the right of us near one of the hiking trails (which wasn't too far from where we were not that long ago) We tried to not panic and finish the last of the photos.(That was dumb idiotic idea know, but at this point we have made a few.)
I think I was zoning out and focusing on what she wanted me to ( for example,like hold the sword in a swinging position like you were about to slay down beast) I sensed that my best friend had stopped giving instructions and looked to her to see that she was standing and looking terrified to say the least
(This was our conversation in that moment)
Me:"uh... You good??"
My best friend:" slowly come over to me, but whatever you do. Don't .look , behind you."
When she said those words I instinctively and very stupidly looked behind me. To see that standing about a good 10 metres or so from me was a tall stocky but lean black figure that wasn't quite human nor animal from the looks of it ,but at first I thought I was a kangaroo ( yes I forgot to mention we live in Australia) with the way it was carrying itself. A very big kangaroo in this instance.
I then wished that I hadn't looked and now looked back at my best friend and now realised we needed to leave immediately. Because whatever the hell that thing behind me was, definitely wasn't friendly at all.
But we couldn't just bolt off back to the car as that would definitely cause the thing to chase down and it definitely would catch up with no trouble at all, so we had to as calmly as possible,pick up our belongings and slowly go back to the car. But since I didn't know what hell we were dealing with I didn't want to keep my back it as that would have very very stupid and I wanted to make sure it was still there. Thankfully it was but as soon as we got to her car and quickly got in(making sure the doors were locked), I look out the windshield and saw that it was no longer there.
We quickly high tailed it out of there and once back on the road, I then looked in the side mirror on my side of her car and saw the figure standing motionless in the middle of road watching us leave. That we when me and my best friend finally could process what just happened.
Then just before we got to the main road again, there was an actual kangaroo standing in the middle of the road which freaked us out more( but we didn't have a car accident from it) and went the car horn was beeped the kangaroo went on its way and so did we.
Once her place we quickly got inside and locked the doors, shut any open windows and locked as well as closed the curtains.The rest of the night and early morning we could hear scratching and tapping on the windows which we ignored and decided to go to bed.
Needlessly to say always trust your gut feeling or you may not live long enough to tell the tail.

Hey, recently I have been having issues with my car, my dad thinks I had bad gas and we ended up getting some Seafoam but now my car doing something different after working fine for about a week after using Seafoam, below will be information related to my current issues:

• The car is an Automatic 2007 Toyota Matrix (basic model) with 190k miles.
• This issue just started occurring yesterday.
• Engine idles at a little less than 1,000 rpm, however, when accelerating on the road (noticed at 45 mph at first) my rpm just stays at anywhere from 4,000 to 6,000 rpm when going around 45-60 mph respectively. the rpm never drops when I'm at my steady driving speed, but if I let go of the gas and then apply even the slightest bit of pressure my rpm jumps back almost instantly.
• I want to note if I press my gas while in park, my rpm doesn't jump like when on the road and acts normal.
• As for the whirring sound, it could be just from where I can hear my rpm staying constantly high, however, when I do have a speed of 45 mph or above I can hear an increasing whirring sound and can feel the vibration of my car pretty intensely.
• On that note, while on the road, when I press my gas, the rpm jumps, but if I let go of the gas, every time for like a split second I can hear almost like air (maybe fluid?) being pushed out of like a nozzle sound? or maybe it sounds like if you open your mouth slightly with your teeth together and push out some air through? I'm not sure if it's a normal sound (like the injectors), but I do now notice it after listening carefully while driving with this issue.

I would call myself a very amateur mechanic, I had to learn because my car was old, but I still don't know much. I would love some help with what it could be and how I can test/diagnose it myself. I would also like to know from what problems it could be what I could arguably do myself. Thank you for any information and if any questions I will get to them as soon as I can!

Hey everyone! Random Appalachian here. I just wanted to check back in with you all and provide some updates, as well as some exciting, if personal, news. I have to type this quick, as my work break ends soon, so pardon any typos, grammatical errors, or weirdly structured sentences.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a park ranger in real life, and work at a wildlife reserve in Ohio. We’ve been having some issues with vandalism in our northern woods for a few months, and despite our best attempts, haven’t been able to find the culprit. It’s been immensely frustrating, especially when more paint has shown up on more trails, ranging from slashes, lines, and crosses, to dots and even letters. Normally we wouldn’t get too bent out of shape over a few trees being painted, but it’s well over 60 at this point, and widespread throughout the forest. None of the official people who help us maintain the trails in that area say they are responsible, and yet many of the markings seem to be blazes for trails. However the markings are at times absurdly close together, or in abstract places that make no logical sense. One “trail” is no more than perhaps 30 yards long and runs right along a massive clearing in a semi-circle, within plain sight of the clearing, and goes to nowhere; it goes into the woods, and pops back out into the clearing only 30-ish yards away. Most of our established trails that have been painted already have well-made trail markings of our own, and the trails are well-blazed. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to why these things are there at all. I don’t think it’s anything sinister, though the painter has left his/her paint cans in the woods before, so at the very least, they’re a litterbug. There is the concern about potential poaching, which can be a problem in our area. Sure, deer and turkey are commonplace in my rural community, but they are only that way because of conservation and game laws that keep populations intact. Local hunters play a big part in conservation, and if someone starts taking more than their fair share through poaching, that means less for everyone else, and upsets the balance of things. The sad thing is, unlike legal hunters who often hunt for meat for their families, (food is expensive nowadays) poachers usually do it for trophies, antlers, or ‘fans’ from the turkey tail-feathers. But our painter has yet to take any game to our knowledge. We’ve found no gut piles, blood, or discarded gear anywhere. So, if he’s not poaching . . . what on earth does he want?
Then a few weeks ago, we did find a camera inside our central perimeter.
To put this into perspective, we have roughly 10,000 acres to our little reserve. Only 1/3 is fenced in, containing our exotic animals for our tours, and our buildings that we use to operate. Offices, mechanical garages, barns, and storage sheds, that sort of thing. Usually if we have trespassing issues, it's in the northern woods, which is open to the public for walking/biking trails. Sometimes in the southern prairie reserve we get some wanderers, but it's pretty open, so people tend to shy away from it. But our interior, the central area, most of which is fenced in, is sacred ground for us. We have a children’s camp in there for kids to learn about nature, we have our animal barns, and even some staff housing. For people to walk around in there would be like a stranger walking through your bedroom at night, while you’re in the shower.
Not cool. Not cool at all.
One of our ecology survey teams found the camera in a lesser-used section a mile or so north of the children’s camp. Naturally, they assumed it was one of ours, until one of the staff innocently asked another ranger why we’d put a camera by that lake. When the ranger told her that we didn’t have any cameras there, it began to sink in.
We either have two trespassers, or the painter has decided to move his game further into our land.
I’m hoping it’s the former, that I’m overthinking things, but after all, the mystery painter had to have seen a few of the trail cameras we put up in the north to catch him. Could he be doing this as a form of tit-for-tat? I don’t know, but it’s got us rangers frustrated, and our ecology team is spooked. It was fun and games in the unpopulated north, but now he’s getting close to our people, our guests, and our animals. This is serious now. We removed the camera, but there’s not really much we can do without more patrols, more cameras, and more rangers. With our budget already restricted, the last part just isn’t possible.
My foray into trail cameras yielded no results as to a culprit. In fact, the day I came in early to pull them out of the field, it seemed nothing went right. Only two came off the tree, as I forgot the keys for the locks for the other two. I couldn’t find the last one at first, and darkness fell before I could locate it, so that I was wandering around in the northern district in the blackness searching for it. Inadvertently this helped me find the camera in the end; I saw the red light flash as it took my picture and was able to retrieve the SD card. It was in my long return trek to the patrol truck that I discovered the marks on a remote trail I hadn’t walked yet. A capital O and a capital N were scrawled in various places, with dots over the letters. I took German in university, so I know they aren’t grammatical marks from that language, known as umlauts (pronounced as “oomlout” for my fellow English speakers; for all my German speakers, if I spelled that wrong, I apologize). I’d left my phone in the truck (stupid rookie move for a seasoned ranger, I know) so I couldn’t take any photos, and didn’t want to follow the trail too far in the pitch dark. I had a flashlight with spare batteries, as well as my gun (I’m not a complete moron after all) but I didn’t have time to do much exploring, since I had other duties in the park that were waiting on me. I had some VIP’s that were coming in late, and had to be escorted, which meant I had to clamber back to my truck, swatting at mosquitos the whole way. Nothing on the cameras showed any definitive proof, though we might have a lead on a guy with a bow case on his back. Could be nothing though; it’s not illegal to wear camo or carry things, and it could very well have been a camera case, a backpack, or an empty bow case.
In any event, we rangers are working on a strategy for changing up our patrol routes and putting more cameras in the field, as well as checking in on the children’s camp frequently throughout the night. So far, this mystery person hasn’t actually hurt anything that we know of, but even if this is just local kids having a prank, it’s not funny anymore.
Anyway, on to the other news. For the aforementioned reasons, as well as others, I’ve been super swamped this past month, and so writing on the third book in the Barron County trilogy has been slow. I wanted to release it at the beginning of June, but at this rate, I’m going to have to push that back to late June, possibly early July. I hate to think I’ve disappointed you all, but it’s just not ready yet. That, and I’ve been busy with something else . . . something big.
I’m getting married next week.
It’s been a long time coming, but my fiancé and I are super excited. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and have been best friends since forever. We’ve both been running like chickens with our heads cut off to get everything ready, and naturally, we’re both exhausted/somewhat nervous. Our honeymoon will require some flying, and since my fiancé has never been on a plane before, that’s a point of nervousness for her. I’m sure she’ll be fine once we’re in the air, but until then, she’s a bundle of nerves.
All that is to say, I am working on the story, it’s just taking a bit. I cannot wait to get back into the swing of things for all of you and thank you again for your supreme patience in this. You guys and gals are great, and entertaining you all is a massive privilege. Stay tuned for the third installment of the Barron County trilogy, and the epic conclusion of Hannah Brun’s journey into the unknown! Until next time.

So the other day, me and a friend, were talking bout public transit and we ended up talking about if public transit should have their own dedicated lanes/rails or if they should just use the exiting infrastructure with cars. And I wanted to show him a video but I couldn't find it
The video in question is one were a tram was blocked by a car. And the reason was because there was some "on-street parking" next to the rails. And the reason why it got blocked was because a car that had parked there didn't straighten their wheels, and the little bit of tire that stuck out of the side was just enough for the tram to not be able to pass by.
That's the video im Looking for so thanks in advance if anyone know the video im talking about

The government is set to initiate firefighting support using Japan’s Quasi-Zenith Satellite System Michibiki in Thailand, where air pollution from forest fires is severe. Information about forest fires will be transmitted via satellite to ensure smooth communication, rather than solely relying on potentially unstable mobile phone signals. This approach aims to speed up firefighting activities to prevent the spread of substances that can cause health damage.
The government has been conducting trials utilizing Michibiki since the end of 2022 in Sri Lanna National Park, located close to Chiang Mai in Thailand. Sensors installed in the park detect smoke and transmit information about the location and scale of the fire. This information is sent to a ground station in Japan, then relayed to Michibiki and finally transmitted to a dedicated receiver for the smartwatches of firefighting teams in the national park.
Unlike the U.S. GPS system, Michibiki can send not only location information, but also text messages from space. It orbits over Japan and Southeast Asia, transmitting signals unobstructed by mountains or buildings. This enables message delivery even in national parks, where mobile phone signal strength is low.
In Thailand, air pollution caused by wildfires and agricultural burning in rural areas, particularly in the northern and northeastern regions, has become a significant issue of public concern. This pollution results in levels of airborne PM2.5 particles, which are carcinogenic, often exceeding safety standards. Air pollution in the region has already caused health issues, including asthma. In March, Thai Prime Minister Srettha Thavisin visited the national park to observe the pilot initiative. The Japanese government is keen to further enhance cooperation with Thailand to lead to rapid practical application of the system.
The Japanese government also hopes that the support initiative will lead to expanded sales channels for equipment and systems developed by Japanese companies. In the trial initiative, Sony Group Corp. is responsible for developing smoke-detection sensors, while NTT Data Group Corp. is building the information communication system for the firefighting teams. The government hopes to expand future business opportunities for Japanese companies throughout Thailand and in other countries.
Yomiuri Shimbun

Hi all!
Here's the weekly 50 question Sunday Quiz. This week the rounds are; Music - American Groups, General Knowledge, Pictures - Landmarks, Mythological Creatures, and General Knowledge. Enjoy!
https://www.sundayquiz.com/weekly-general-knowledge-quiz-19-05-2024/
Questions - Music - American Groups

1. Which band with lead vocalist Adam Levine, released their debut album "Songs About Jane" in June 2002?
2. Composed of Anthony Kiedis, Flea, Chad Smith, and John Frusciante, which band formed in Los Angeles in 1982?
3. With vocalist Chester Bennington part of the band until his death in 2017, the debut studio album of which group was "Hybrid Theory"?
4. In March 1985 which group formed when local bands Hollywood Rose and L.A. Guns merged?
5. Rising to superstardom with the album "Millennium" in 1999, what vocal group consisted of Nick, Howie, AJ, Brian, and Kevin?
6. Formed in 1966, which band has undergone various line-ups with its Mexican born namesake and founder being the only consistent member?
7. Which group released a series of hit songs between 1978 and 1987 when Steve Perry was lead vocalist, including "Don't Stop Believin'"?
8. "Out of Time" (1991) and "Automatic for the People" (1992) were the most commercially successful albums for which group?
9. Fergie replaced Kim Hill in which group's lineup during the height of their popularity in the 2000s?
10. Formed by James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich, which heavy metal band has sold more than 125 million records worldwide?

Answers

1. Maroon 5#########
2. Red Hot Chili Peppers
3. Linkin Park########
4. Guns N' Roses#####
5. Backstreet Boys####
6. Santana##########
7. Journey##########
8. R.E.M.###########
9. (The) Black Eyed Peas
10. Metallica#########

More quizzes...

Hi all!
Here's the weekly 50 question Sunday Quiz. This week the rounds are; Music - American Groups, General Knowledge, Pictures - Landmarks, Mythological Creatures, and General Knowledge. Enjoy!
https://www.sundayquiz.com/weekly-general-knowledge-quiz-19-05-2024/
Questions - Music - American Groups

1. Which band with lead vocalist Adam Levine, released their debut album "Songs About Jane" in June 2002?
2. Composed of Anthony Kiedis, Flea, Chad Smith, and John Frusciante, which band formed in Los Angeles in 1982?
3. With vocalist Chester Bennington part of the band until his death in 2017, the debut studio album of which group was "Hybrid Theory"?
4. In March 1985 which group formed when local bands Hollywood Rose and L.A. Guns merged?
5. Rising to superstardom with the album "Millennium" in 1999, what vocal group consisted of Nick, Howie, AJ, Brian, and Kevin?
6. Formed in 1966, which band has undergone various line-ups with its Mexican born namesake and founder being the only consistent member?
7. Which group released a series of hit songs between 1978 and 1987 when Steve Perry was lead vocalist, including "Don't Stop Believin'"?
8. "Out of Time" (1991) and "Automatic for the People" (1992) were the most commercially successful albums for which group?
9. Fergie replaced Kim Hill in which group's lineup during the height of their popularity in the 2000s?
10. Formed by James Hetfield and Lars Ulrich, which heavy metal band has sold more than 125 million records worldwide?

Answers

1. Maroon 5#########
2. Red Hot Chili Peppers
3. Linkin Park########
4. Guns N' Roses#####
5. Backstreet Boys####
6. Santana##########
7. Journey##########
8. R.E.M.###########
9. (The) Black Eyed Peas
10. Metallica#########

More quizzes...

Here is a comparison of budget stats from Musharraf dictatorship's 2007-08 budget compared to proposed budget for upcoming year:

All numbers are in billion PKR	2007-08	2024-25 (proposed)
Domestic debt	2627	39700
Debt servicing	424	9700
Total expenditure	1874	18000
Federal PSDP	493	1000
Defence	275	2100

As you can see, elephant in the room is debt rather than defence that many believe (which might be cut but significant reduction is not possible in current situation)
Development expenditures have raised from just half a trillion to a trillion while the total budget overlay has increased by ten times. At end of year, even this development expenditure will se a cut. Debt servicing has increased almost twenty times.
Government needs to cut current expenditure of government, hold pay raises for a few years. For all new employees, make pension self-financed. Cut all subsidies in whatever form apart from those that are for production sector. Need to take back a few welfare schemes that are being run for political purposes. Sell all SOE's and park the money generated in a sovereign wealth fund.
Divert all the money saved to development. This would put economy back into motion.