“Cadet: Verity Eliminated!”
Elsie’s frustration at the sound of Maurine being eliminated was somewhat offset by the ‘death’ of her killer.
She had no idea how that had happened. And she couldn’t ask either as both Tala and Maurine were still connected to each other.
The situation wasn’t helped by the rest of the first years slipping the noose.
Though not without losses of their own, she thought as she glanced at the downed form of… team seven’s dark elf if she didn’t miss her mark.
The dark elf was a bit stockier.
“You ok?” she asked, head on a swivel, as she cautiously moved up to Cherie’s crouched form.
“Fine,” the girl grunted irritably as she visibly resisted the urge to rub her eyes through her helmet.
Two simultaneous flashbang spells to the face couldn’t have been fun. Hell, she’d probably have been killed if hadn’t thought to immediately respond in kind.
…And been equipped with a pretty ideal weapon for that kind of close-range fight.
The volley-bow might not have had the longevity of a regular bolt-bow where ammo capacity to concern, but the ability to unleash a veritable barrage of shots at a moments notice was not to be underestimated.
Well, that combined with the fact that Cherie being the only member of their team who wasn’t the scion of some noble house.
She was just that talented.
As evidenced by the ‘dead’ first year sprawled out – and probably glaring at them – nearby. Casually, Elsie stepped over to rifle through the girl’s – the dark elf’s – pockets in search of fresh clips.
For just a moment, she considered the girl’s downed… wax-bolt, before dismissing the thought.
Curious as she might have been about the weapon, mid-match wasn’t the time to start playing with new equipment. For one thing, she had no idea how the thing even fired, given that she couldn’t see any kind of aether-tank on the long barrelled weapon.
Standing up, she hustled back over to Cherie. “Well, it’s just two left now.”
The high elf and Ashfield himself, Elsie thought as she and Cherie crouched practically back to back behind a pile of lumber.
Tapping her helmet again, she was relieved as the orb-channel came to life this time. “Tala, you ok?”
“Fine,” the girl in question grunted with what sounded like audible discomfort.
It seemed whatever had happened had left her feeling a little worse for wear, though good luck getting their leader to admit that. She also knew better than to ask what happened to Maurine – mostly how the girl had managed to die to a first-year orc in a two on one matchup.
There was a time and a place for that kind of discussion though and this wasn’t it. “We’ve downed their dark but the last two are in the wind.”
“Wha- How?” The girl practically wheezed. “Actually, never mind, what direction did they head in?”
“East flank. The tower should be between you and them.”
“Alright,” Tala grunted, clearly creating a mental map. “You’ve got permission to pursue, but don’t get cocky. Standing orders regarding the new weapon remain. Stay low and close to cover. I’ll loop back towards our starting location and we’ll pincer them.”
“Understood,” Elsie said, closing the comms and turning to Cherie. “We’re going after them. Stay low.”
The other girl scoffed behind her helmet as she stood up. “Obviously.”
In moments the two were moving, darting around rubble with quick bursts of aether as they kept their eyes peeled. Still, it was somewhat inevitable that, unless their foe was still in flight, they’d see the third years before the opposite was true.
The first warning was a burst of bolts that clattered across Elsie’s armor, though none managed to find purchase in her soft undersuit.
“Contact,” she shouted, catching sight of a distant figure even as she darted into cover. “Bearing Eleven.”
“Confirmed,” Cherie called back as she too slid to a stop behind cover.
It seemed the first years were sticking to their strategy of hugging the outer walls of the arena. Though given that they were clearly out of ‘wax’ rounds that was likely a decision borne of strategic inertia rather than proper reasoning.
With that said, there wasn’t really a ‘right’ option at this point. Outclassed and outnumbered, with their special munitions clearly depleted, this match was all-but over.
With that said, Elsie wasn’t so foolish as to let her guard down as she popped up to exchange fire with the distant cadet. Across from her, Cherie used the opportunity to advance before laying down her own barrage of shots.
They didn’t need to communicate for this bit. It was as rote as could be as they alternately moved to flank the first year’s last holdout. Two separate plumes of aether rang out from the pile the first-years were hiding behind as they fired with frankly horrific accuracy towards both her and Cherie.
Definitely freaked and running on instinct, Elsie thought absently.
Though what did they expect after challenging a team with two years of experience over them?
Clearly, they’d been banking on their new wonder weapon to carry them through.
…Like idiots.
“Final two are cornered Tala,” Elsie reported as she slid to a stop just short of the first-years final refuge. “Possible they’re having ammo trouble. Second has stopped firing.”
“Make no assumptions. Hold position, I’m coming up behind you now.” Sure enough, Elsie heard the telltale burst of aether accompanied by the low thud of something hitting dirt as Tala slid to a stop behind her.
“Cherie, you move on three. We’ll move on four,” the girl reported, hand to her ear suggesting she’d switched orbs to speak to Cherie. “Sequential flashes as soon as you break cover. Cherie. Elsie. Me. Cherie. Care for crossfire once we turn the corner.”
Elsie nodded, the last thing they needed to do was blind or shoot each other.
“One.” Cherie fired off a few rounds.
“Two.” Then Elsie.
“Three.” There was a burst of aether as the team’s most heavily armored surviving member rocketed out of cover, the tail end of a spell on her lips.
Which Elsie didn’t hear, nor did she see as she glanced away just as a retina burning flash erupted from her teammate’s position along with a earth shaking boom - instead she focused on chanting under her breath.
“Four!” Tala grunted just as she and Elsie erupted from their own cover.
The two jetted across the intervening space as they swept wide of the first-years position, Elsie’s voice roaring. “-invoke the power of our covenant. Light and Noise. Flashbang!”
Light blasted forth along with an ungodly noise as they sought to deafen and blind the first-years.
…And that was when something slammed into her back, splattering upwards to strike the back of her helmet.
“Wha-” she grunted as the unexpected blow forced her flight trajectory down towards the dirt – and given that she’d been skimming but a few inches from it before – that was all it took to send her skidding across it in an ungainly heap.
It was not graceful – and the only thing that saved it from being worse was the fast reactions of Tala that kept her from flying directly into her. Instead, the girl overshot with a sudden flare of aether.
“Cadet: Cherie eliminated. Cadet: Elsie eliminated.”
And sure enough, as Elsie glanced up she saw that Cherie was likewise sprawled out, an orange stain blasted across her back.
But how!? She thought as she twisted, only to see a single figure silhouetted against the ceiling lights as they stood atop the watchtower, long barrelled rifle aimed and ready.
But… there was only two…
And glancing over, she saw it, as the boy – Ashfield! – rose from behind the pile with a bolt-bow in each arm!
He’d tricked them. There’d never been a second shooter behind the pile. Instead she’d made her way toward the tower… which was why he’d positioned himself against the wall!
It put their backs to the tower!
That was… such bullshit! Tala should have seen the girl on the way past – unless she’d timed her climb to start the moment their team leader went past.
It was a short window to claim a firing position, but doable with a quick burst of aether and a full tank!
Even if it was absurdly lucky!
Hell, the reason they hadn’t heard Cherie go down – even with the delay between how fast a wax-bow could fire – was because the noise had been drowned out by the fucking flashbangs!
All those thoughts went through her mind in a moment, as she turned towards her leader.
A leader who’d seen her go down - and was now torn between trying to evade the target to her rear and eliminating the one right in front of her.
And that momentary hesitation cost her as both the Ashfield and the highelf fired at once, rounds slamming into Tala from both sides – though not before she got off a shot of her own.
Silence rang out across the arena as their team leader dropped like a stone.
“…Cadet: Tala eliminated. Cadet: William eliminated.” The voice sounded almost as stunned as Elsie felt.
Silence reigned across the arena.
“Team Seven-One… win.”
\--------------------------------------------------

Olzenya felt her body go limp as she practically collapsed, nerveless fingers barely managing to hold onto the spell-bolt she’d just used to… wipe out three members of the enemy team.
She couldn’t believe it. Actually, could not believe it.
She’d thought they were done when Marline went down. Hell, she’d thought they were done when she and Bonnlyn had missed their targets in the opening moments of the match.
Losing Marline to a fluke shot had just sealed it in her mind.
She’d wanted to be the bait when William told her his new plan.
Truly.
Anything to avoid the pressure of being the ‘shooter’. After all, William was the much better shot.
Only he couldn’t do that, because he’d instead chosen to try and perform a miracle before the match even started.
“Told you that you could do it,” an irritatingly smug voice slurred into her ear. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Though how much of that was down to the harpy venom running through William’s veins and how much was down to the… peculiar invention he’d created she didn’t know.
She knew for a fact his words were horseshit.
“That’s my tutoring coming in strong,” Marline grunted, only slightly surly about her fluke downing, but mostly just proud.
“Well done Oz,” Verity whispered. “I, um, I’m sorry I left you guys in a lurch.”
“Yeah, yeah. She did great. William had an insane plan that somehow worked. Marline’s tutoring is very helpful. Verity should learn to double tap. That’s great,” Bonnlyn slurred. “How long do you think it’ll be until the refs get out here with anti-venom? Because I’ve got a spur poking right into my left ass cheek. Like, right in there.”
“Right ass cheek?” Willaim scoffed. “I’d take that any day. I’m practically doing the splits here.”
“…That doesn’t sound so bad?” Verity said.
“It is if you’ve got a pair of testicles,” Marline muttered.
It was all Olzenya could do not to laugh as her team slurred, whined and cheered into her ears. As if they hadn’t just performed the impossible.
Or as if they weren’t speaking to each other from across an impossible distance, As with little to mar their voice beyond a middling crackle.
Were they all going mad? Had they joined William in his insanity?
One of the most important magical innovations in recent memory – and they were using it to complain about how they’d fallen uncomfortably in a fight against a team of third years that they’d also impossibly beaten.
How it worked, she didn’t know. William had just said electromagnetism and vibrations as he practically jammed the small metal bead into her ear.
Into all their ears.
An almost hysterical chuckle tried to slip from her throat.
Instantaneous communication between five people. With little more than a few spell charges and some metal.
Sure, William claimed it’d be lucky if the enchantment lasted an hour, but that was just… typical of him.
Do the impossible and then act like it was nothing.
And, as much as she hated to admit it, he’d needed to perform the impossible.
Disrupting Tala’s ambush so Verity could get the drop on her other attacker? Only possible because she’d been able to communicate that need for aid to William.
Their simultaneous three pronged assault on... the armored girl? Even if Marline had gotten unlucky, that breakout had only been possible because they’d been able to move as one.
And finally, her climbing of the tower to get an open shot on their backs? Only possible because William had told her the moment Tala was focused on him. She’d certainly not been able to make that judgment from where she’d been hiding. Aether bursts weren’t that loud.
Finally, timing her shots so they’d not be heard? Only possible because he’d been relaying the timing of their chanting.
Without that… well, she might have gotten one, but the other two would have scattered and then it would be a two on two against superior opponents with William practically out of ammo and Olzenya herself completely bereft of a bolt-bow and down to a single wax round.
No, they’d not have won that.
Perhaps if he’d had Marline or Verity at his back it might have been possible.
Not her though.
…Or perhaps not?
Some part of her wanted to gloat. To preen. To claim her accomplishment as her own and hers alone.
But that was a small part. One that more and more she found she wanted to leave behind.
For just a moment, she wondered if her sister was watching? If she was afraid?
She hoped so, but it was a distant thing.
Because right now all she wanted to focus on was this feeling.
This sense of triumph. Of camaraderie.
Like she could take on the world.
…Like she belonged.
And that feeling only grew as the crowds around them finally started to cheer. Some because Team Seven had been the underdog. Some because they were abolitionists. Some just because they’d wanted to see House Blackstone be humbled.
Olzenya didn’t care why they were cheering. They didn’t matter. Not really.
Only the people cheering, bickering or just plain being smug in her ear counted.
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Speaking of awkward positions,” she muttered as she watched members of staff making their way into the field. “Could, uh, one of you direct someone to come and… retrieve me?”
For some reason her legs just refused to cooperate. It wasn’t the result of harpy venom or anything like that.
They just… seemed to be done for the day.
A sentiment she could well get behind.
The next time William needed three-fifths of a third-year team wiping out, he could damn well do it himself.
She was done. For the rest of the year at least.
“Our conquering hero everyone,” Bonnlyn laughed. “About to be carried down from her lofty perch in a bucket.”
Ha, Olzenya didn’t care.
She’d wiped out three-fifths of a third year team in her first semester. She had nothing left to prove to anyone.
Not a damn thing.
“Perhaps being insane isn’t too bad?” she murmured as she plucked the metal bead from her ear.
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Another three chapters are also available on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bluefishcake
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Hey, as of this morning the hot water in the Bathroom upstairs isn't working.
the boiler is a Baxi combi 105 he I have adjusted boiler pressure as the manual instructs. it is currently at the max in the green bar so 1+bar
I have checked underneath the bathtub for leaks. it is all dry and corrosion free on the pipework .pvc pipe metal valve.
worked the valve in hopes it "frees up" some smoo.
tapped the pipeing to "free up" smoo nothing too vigorous.
the hot water works on the mixer taps attached to the shower. the shower hose comes from underneath the tap.
I removed the shower head to check flow isnt hindered by the shower head and when i tested from cold to hot there is a visible diffrence in flow rate.
theres no fault codes on the boiler.
hope some one has some ideas. i need to go to bed now so will have to check in the morning for your replies. thanks in advance.

Hi guys. Due to my Tap water mixer being broken, I set the hot water temperature to 45'C. My CV ketel is Remeha and has a function antilegionela that is run every Saturday at night.
Does it actually run automatically, or do i need to open the valves and let the water flow during that time?
Thanks in advance.

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Requin HD/VU $4.5
Resident Evil Welcome to Raccoon City HD/MA $4
Robin Hood '73 HD/MA $4
Rosemary's Baby 4K/VU $6.5
Rhythm Section HD/VU $3.5
Ruby Gilman Teenage Kraken HD/MA $5.5
Rudy (Dir Cut) 4K/MA $6.5
Rudy 4K/MA $6
Run Lola Run 4K/MA $6.5
Saint Maud HD/VU $4
Samurai Jack Complete Series HD/VU $40
Saw 8-film Set (Unr except Jigsaw) HD/VU $20
Secret Life of Walter Mitty HD/MA $3.5
Shaun of the Dead HD/MA $4 or 4K/IT $4.5
Shaun the Sheep HD/VU $3.5
Shrek 6-Film Set (1-4, Musical, Puss in Boots) HD/MA $19
Skiptrace HD/VU $3.5
Scorpion King 4-Film Set (1, 3, 4, Book of Souls) HD/MA $12
Scream 3 4K/VU $5.5
Scream 5 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Scream 6 4K/VU $7 or HD/VU $5.5
Sharktopus HD/VU $3.5
Shazam 2-film Set HD/MA $8
Shazam Fury of the Gods 4K/MA $6 or HD/MA $4.5
She Said HD/MA $4.5
She's the Man HD/VU $3.5
Sin City HD/VU $4
Silver Linings Playbook HD/VU $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Sisu 4K/VU $6
Sixteen Candles HD/MA $3.5 or HD/IT $3.5
Sleepless in Seattle 4K/MA $6
Smile HD/VU $4.5
Social Network 4K/MA $6
Sometimes They Come Back...Again HD/VU $4
Sometimes They Come Back...For More HD/VU $3.5
Sonic the Hedgehog 2 4K/VU $5.5
Spider-Man Across the Spider-Verse 4K/MA $7 or HD/MA $5.5
Split HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Spoiler Alert HD/MA $5
Spy (Unr) HD/MA $3
Star Wars A New Hope HD/MA $4
Starship Troopers 4K/MA $6
Step Brothers 4K/MA $6.5
Stillwater HD/MA $4
Studio 666 HD/MA $5
Sum of All Fears 4K/VU $5
Supercell HD/VU $4.5
Super Mario Bros Movie HD/MA $5
Superfly HD/MA $4
Suspiria (2018) HD/VU $4
T2 Trainspotting 4K/MA $6
Talk to Me 4K/VU $6
Talladega Nights 4K/MA $6.5
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Out of the Shadows HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Thanksgiving 4K/MA $7.5
The Batman 4K/MA $5.5
The Bay HD/VU $4
The Color Purple '23 4K/MA $8 or HD/MA $6.5
The Creator HD/MA $6
The Descent (Unr) HD/VU $4.5
The Flash HD/MA $5
The Last Dragon 4K/MA $5.5
The Natural 4K/MA $6
The Other Guys 4K/MA $6
The Professional (Ext) 4K/MA $6
The Space Between Us HD/MA $4
The Super '17 HD/VU $4
Ticket to Paradise HD/MA $4.5
Titanic 4K/VU or IT $6 or HD/VU $4.5
Top Gun Maverick HD/VU $4
Toy Story 3 HD/MA $4
Trading Places 4K/VU $6
Transformers Rise of the Beasts 4K/MA $7 or HD/VU $5.5
Trolls 3-Film Collection HD/MA $12
Trolls Band Together HD/MA $6.5
Tusk HD/VU $4.5
Umma HD/MA $4.5
Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 4K/VU $5
Underwater HD/MA $4.5
Unfriended HD/MA $4
Universal Monsters 4-Film Set 4K/MA $17
Up '09 HD/MA $4.5
V for Vendetta 4K/MA $6.5
Vanilla Sky HD/VU $5.5
Velvet Goldmine HD/VU $4.5
Venture Bros Radiant is the Blood of the Baboon Heart HD/MA $5.5
Violent Night HD/MA $5
Walking Dead Season 9 HD/VU $7
Watchmen Ultimate Cut 4K/MA $7.5
Waxwork 2 HD/VU $3.5
We Summon the Darkness HD/VU $4.5
Welcome to Marwen HD/MA $4.5
Welcome to Monster High HD/MA or IT $3
Whiplash 4K/MA $6 or HD/MA $4.5
White House Down HD/MA $3.5
Whitney Houston I Wanna Dance w/ Somebody HD/MA $4
Wicker Man 4K/VU $5.5
Wish HD/MA $7
Witch HD/VU $3.5
Woman King 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $4
Woman Walks Ahead HD/VU $4
You're Next HD/VU $3.5
X-Men 1-4 Set SD/MA $7.5
Zombieland Double Tap HD/MA $4
All other movies (A-Z)
10 Cloverfield Lane HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
101 Dalmatians '61 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
13 Hours HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
14 Blades HD/VU $3.5
1917 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
2 Guns 4K/MA $4 or HD/MA or IT $2.5
21 Jump Street HD/MA $3
22 Jump Street HD/MA $3.5
3 Extremes HD/VU $4
3 From Hell (Unr) 4K/VU $4 or HD/VU $2.5
3:10 to Yuma 4K/VU $5
31 HD/VU $2.5
47 Meters Down HD/IT $3.5
47 Meters Down Uncaged 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
47 Ronin HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
600 Miles HD/VU $3.5
71 HD/VU $3.5
A Christmas Story 4K/MA $6
A Dog's Purpose HD/IT $3
A Good Day to Die Hard (Ext) HD/VU $2.5
A Journal For Jordan HD/MA $4
A Quiet Place HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
A Walk Among the Tombstones HD/IT $3.5
A Wrinkle in Time HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
A.C.O.D. HD/IT $3.5
Abominable 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
About Last Night HD/MA $3
Ad Astra HD/MA $4
Adaptation 4K/MA $6
Adverse 4K/VU $5
After Earth HD/MA $3
Aftermath HD/VU $3
Air Force One 4K/MA $6
Aladdin ‘19 HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Aladdin ‘92 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Alien HD/MA $4
Alien Covenant HD/MA $2.5
Alfred Hitchcock 4-Film Set Vol 1 4K/MA $18
Alfred Hitchcock 5-Film Set Vol 2 4K/MA $21
Alien 6-film Set HD/MA $16
Alita Battle Angel 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
All Eyez on Me HD/VU or IT $3
All is Lost HD/VU $3.5
All the Money in the World HD/MA $3.5
Allied HD/VU or IT $3.5
Amazing Spider-Man 2 HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1.5
Amazing Spider-Man HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1.5
American Assassin 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
American Hustle HD/MA $3.5
American Ultra HD/VU or IT $4
American Underdog 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Anatomy of a Murder 4K/MA $5
Anchorman 2 HD/VU or IT $2.5
Angel Has Fallen 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Angel Heart 4K/VU $5.5
Angel of Mine 4K/VU $5.5
Angry Birds Movie HD/MA $3.5
Anna Karenina HD/IT $3.5
Annie ‘14 HD/MA $3.5
Annihilation HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Antebellum 4K/VU $5
Antlers HD/GP $3
Ant-Man & the Wasp HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Ant-Man HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Apache Junction HD/VU $3.5
Apollo 13 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Arctic HD/MA $4
Arrival HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Art of Self-Defense HD/MA $4
Assassination Nation HD/MA $3.5
Assassin's Creed HD/MA $3
Assignment HD/VU $4
Atomic Blonde 4K/IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
August Osage County HD/VU $3
Avengers Age of Ultron HD/GP $3
Avengers Endgame HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Avengers Infinity War 4K/MA $4 or HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Baby Driver HD/MA $4
Backdraft 4K/IT $5.5
Bad Grandpa HD/VU or IT $2.5
Bad Words HD/MA or IT $3
Bandslam HD/VU $4
Bank Job HD/VU $3.5
Barb & Star go to Vista Del Mar HD/VU $4
Barbie & Her Sisters in the Great Puppy Adventure HD/IT $3.5
Bart Got a Room HD/VU $4
Battle Royale HD/VU $4.5
Battleship 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Beauty & the Beast ‘17 HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Beauty & the Beast ‘91 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Bedknobs & Broomsticks HD/GP $3.5
Before I Fall HD/VU or IT $3.5
Begin Again HD/VU $3.5
Beiruit HD/MA $3.5
Belly 4K/VU $5.5
Ben-Hur ‘16 HD/VU $3.5
Between Worlds HD/VU $3.5
Big Hero 6 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Big Lebowski 4K/MA or IT $5.5
Big Short HD/VU $3.5
Big Wedding HD/VU or IT $3
Billy Elliot HD/MA or IT $4
Birdman HD/MA $4
Black & Blue HD/MA $4
Black Christmas '19 HD/MA $4.5
Black Panther 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Black Panther Wakanda Forever HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
BlackKklansman HD/MA $4.5
Blacklight HD/MA $4
Black Widow HD/GP $3
Blackhat HD/IT $3.5
Blair Witch Project ‘99 HD/VU $4
Bleeding Steel HD/VU $3.5
Blindspotting 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Blood Money ‘17 HD/VU $3.5
Blood Ties HD/VU $3.5
Blue Jasmine HD/MA $3.5
Blue Ruin HD/VU $4
Blues Brothers HD/MA $4 or 4K/IT $4.5
Bob's Burgers Movie HD/GP $3
Body Cam HD/VU $4
Bohemian Rhapsody 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Bombshell 4K/VU $5
Book of Life HD/MA $3.5
Boss Baby HD/MA $2.5
Bourne Identity 4K/IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Bourne Legacy HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
Bourne Supremacy HD/MA $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Bourne Ultimatum 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Boy ‘16 HD/IT $3.5
Boy & the World HD/IT $3.5
Braven HD/VU $4
Breakfast Club HD/MA or IT $4
Breakthrough HD/MA $3
Brian Banks HD/MA $3
Bridge of Spies HD/GP $3.5
Brothers Bloom HD/VU $4.5
Bumblebee 4K/VU or IT $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Butler HD/VU $3
Cabin in the Woods HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Cake HD/MA $4
Call of Wild 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Calvary HD/MA $4
Candyman '20 4K/MA $6 or HD/MA $4.5
Candyman 3 HD/VU $4
Captain America Civil War HD/GP $2.5
Captain America First Avenger HD/GP $3.5
Captain America Winter Soldier HD/GP $3.5
Captain Marvel 4K/MA $4 or HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Captain Phillips HD/MA $3.5
Captain Underpants First Epic Movie HD/MA $2.5
Carol HD/VU $4
Cars 3 HD/GP $2.5
Casablanca 4K/MA $5.5
Case for Christ HD/MA or IT $2.5
Casper HD/IT $4
Celebrating Mickey HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Chaos Walking 4K/VU $5
Chappaquiddick HD/VU $4
Chasing Mavericks HD/MA $3.5
Chicago HD/VU $4
Child 44 HD/VU $4
Children ‘08 HD/VU $4
Christopher Robin HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Clerks 3 4K/VU $4.5
Clifford the Big Red Dog HD/VU $4
Cloverfield 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Coco HD/GP $2.5
Cold Pursuit 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Collection HD/VU $3.5
Collide ‘17 HD/VU or IT $2.5
Colma The Musical HD/VU $4
Colombiana (Unr) HD/MA $4
Colony 4K/VU $5
Come & Find Me HD/VU $4
Commuter 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Company of Heroes HD/MA $4
Conspirator HD/VU $4
Contraband HD/IT $3
Contractor HD/VU $4.5
Cooler HD/VU $4
Cool Hand Luke 4K/MA $5.5
Cooties HD/VU $4
Cotton Club Encore 4K/VU $5.5
Countdown ‘16 HD/VU $3.5
Courier 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Craft Legacy HD/MA $4.5
Criminal HD/VU or IT $3
Croods HD/VU $3.5
Cruella HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Crypto 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Daddy's Home HD/IT $2.5
Daddy's Home 2 HD/VU or IT $3
Damsel HD/VU $4.5
Dangerous 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Danny Collins HD/IT $3.5
Dark Crimes HD/VU $4
Darkest Minds HD/MA $4
Dark Places HD/VU $4
Dark Tower HD/MA $3.5
Darkest Hour ‘17 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Dawn of the Planet of the Apes HD/MA $3.5
Deadpool 2 (w/Super Duper Cut) HD/MA $4
Deadpool HD/MA $2.5
Death of Me HD/VU $4
Death on the Nile HD/GP $3
Death Wish '18 HD/VU $3
Deepwater Horizon HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Deliver Us From Evil HD/MA $3.5
Dentist 2-Film Set HD/VU $7
Despicable Me 2 HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Despicable Me 3 4K/MA or IT $4.5
Despicable Me 4K/MA or IT $4.5
Detroit HD/MA $3.5
Devil Inside HD/VU $3.5
Devil's Due HD/MA $3.5
Die Hard HD/MA $3.5
Die Hard 5-film Set HD/MA $18
Die in a Gunfight 4K/VU $5
Dirty Dancing 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Disney Animated Short Films Set HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Disneynature Monkey Kingdom HD/MA $3
Django Unchained HD/VU $3
Doctor Strange HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Doctor Strange Multiverse of Madness HD/GP $3
Dolittle HD/MA $3.5
Dom Hemingway HD/MA $3.5
Don Verdean HD/VU $4.5
Doorman HD/VU $3.5
Doors 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Downsizing HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
Downton Abbey A New Era HD/MA $4
Downton Abbey The Movie HD/MA $3.5
Draft Day HD/IT $3.5
Dragged Across Concrete HD/VU $3.5
Dragonslayer 4K/VU $5.5
Dream a Little Dream HD/VU $4
Dreamkatcher HD/VU $4
Dreamworks 10-Film HD/MA $25
Dredd 4K/VU $4 or HD/VU $2.5
Dying of the Light HD/VU $2.5
E.T. Extra Terrestrial 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Early Man 4K/VU $5.5
Earth Girls are Easy HD/VU $4
Eddie the Eagle HD/MA $4
Edge of Seventeen HD/IT $3
Edward Scissorhands HD/MA $3.5
El Chicano HD/MA $4
Elysium HD/MA $3.5
Emoji Movie HD/MA $3
Empire of Light HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Empire State HD/VU $3
Encanto 4K/GP $3.5
Enough Said HD/MA $3.5
Enter the Dragon 4K/MA $6
Epic HD/MA $3
Equalizer HD/MA $3.5
Equalizer 2 HD/MA $3.5
Escape From Planet Earth HD/VU $3
Eternals HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Everest HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Everything Must Go HD/VU $4
Evil Dead 2 HD/VU $3.5
Ex Machina HD/VU $3
Exodus Gods & Kings HD/MA $3.5
Expired 4K/VU $4.5
Fair Game (Dir) HD/VU $4
Fantastic Four ‘15 HD/MA $4
Fast & Furious 4 4K/MA $5
Fast & the Furious 8-film Set HD/MA $17
Fast & the Furious 9-film Set HD/MA $19
Fast Color 4K/VU $5.5
Fatale ‘20 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Fatherhood HD/MA $4
Fault in Our Stars HD/MA $3.5
Fear of Rain 4K/VU $5.5
Fences HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Ferdinand HD/MA $3.5
Field of Dreams 4K/MA or IT $5.5
Fifty Shades Darker (Unr) HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Fifty Shades Freed HD/MA $4
Fifty Shades of Grey (Unr) 4K/MA or IT $4
Finding Dory HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Finding Nemo HD/GP $3.5
Finest Hours HD/GP $3
Firm 4K/VU $6
First Man HD/MA $4
Flashback ‘20 HD/VU $4
Flight HD/VU or IT $3
Florence Foster Jenkins HD/VU or IT $3
Footloose ‘11 HD/IT $3
Forbidden Kingdom HD/VU $4.5
Ford v Ferrari HD/MA $4
Forest HD/IT $3.5
Forever My Girl HD/IT $3
Fortress HD/VU $3.5
Fortress Sniper's Eye HD/VU $3.5
Fox & the Hound 2 HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Foxcatcher HD/MA $4
Frank & Lola HD/VU or IT $3
Free Guy HD/GP $3
French Dispatch HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Friday the 13th 4K/VU $5.5
From Here to Eternity 4K/MA $5.5
Frozen (Sing-Along) HD/MA $2 or HD/GP $1.5
Frozen HD/GP $2
Frozen 2 HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Frozen Ground ‘13 HD/VU $3.5
Fury HD/MA $3.5
Future World HD/VU $3.5
G.I. Joe Retaliation HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Gambit ‘12 HD/MA $4
Gambler HD/VU or IT $3
Gamer 4K/VU $5.5
Gemini Man 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Get Out 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Ghost in the Shell ‘17 HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Ghost in the Shell ‘95 4K/VU $5
Ghost Team One HD/VU or IT $3.5
Ghostbusters ‘84 HD/MA $3.5
Ghostbusters (Thea & Ext) ‘16 HD/MA $3
Ghostbusters 2 HD/MA $3.5
Gifted HD/MA $3
Girl on Train HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Girl w/ All Gifts HD/VU $4
Giver HD/VU $3.5
Glass Castle 4K/VU $5.5
Glass HD/MA $4
God Bless The Broken Road HD/VU $3.5
God's Not Dead 2 HD/MA or IT $2.5
God's Not Dead 3 HD/MA $3
Gods of Egypt HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Gold ‘16 HD/VU $2.5
Good Dinosaur HD/GP $2.5
Good Kill HD/VU or IT $3.5
Grease 2 HD/VU $4
Great Wall 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Greatest Showman HD/MA $3.5
Green Book HD/MA $4
Grey HD/VU or IT $3
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 1 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 HD/GP $2
Guilt Trip HD/VU or IT $3
Gunman HD/MA or IT $3
Guns of Navarone 4K/MA $5.5
Hacksaw Ridge 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Halloween ‘18 HD/MA $3
Hammer of the Gods HD/VU $2
Hannibal S.1 HD/VU $5
Hansel & Gretel Witch Hunters (Unr) HD/VU or IT $3
Hard Luck Love Song 4K/VU $5.5
Hard Target 2 HD/IT $1.5
Hardcore Henry HD/VU or IT $3.5
Hate U Give HD/MA $4
Hateful Eight HD/VU $3.5
Heat (Director's Cut) ‘95 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Heaven is for Real HD/MA $3.5
Hercules ‘14 HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Here Comes the Boom HD/MA $3.5
Hereditary HD/VU $3.5
Hidden Figures HD/MA $3
High Note HD/MA $4
Highlander 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Hitchcock '12 HD/MA $4
Hitman Agent 47 HD/MA $3
Hitman's Bodyguard HD/VU $3.5
Hocus Pocus HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Home HD/MA $3
Home Again HD/MA $3
Home Alone 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Homefront HD/MA or IT $3
Homesman HD/VU $3
Honey 2 HD/VU $3
Hostiles 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Hotel Transylvania 3 HD/MA $3.5
Hot Fuzz HD/VU $4
Hotel Mumbai HD/MA $4
Hours ‘13 HD/VU $4
House of 1000 Corpses HD/VU $4
House of Gucci 4K/IT $5.5
House w/ a Clock in Its Walls sHD/MA $4
How to Train Your Dragon 2 HD/MA $2.5
Hugo HD/VU $3
Hunt for Red October 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Huntsman Winter's War (Ext) HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
I Can Only Imagine HD/VU $3.5
I Feel Pretty HD/IT $2
Ides of March HD/MA $4
I Know What You Did Last Summer 4K/MA $5.5
Imitation Game HD/VU $3
In a Valley of Violence HD/IT $3
In Secret ‘14 HD/VU $4.5
In the Blood HD/VU $4
Incredibles 2 HD/GP $3
Independence Day ‘96 HD/MA $4
Independence Day Resurgence HD/MA $2.5
Indiana Jones & the Raiders of the Lost Ark 4K/VU or IT $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom 4K/VU or IT $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Indignation HD/VU $4
Indivisible HD/MA $3.5
Inferno HD/MA $3
Initiation 4K/VU $5
Initiation HD/VU $3.5
Internship HD/MA $3
Interstellar 4K/VU or IT $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Interview HD/MA $3.5
Into the Woods HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Invisible Man '20 HD/MA $3.5
Invisible Man ‘33 HD/MA $3.5
Iron Man 3 HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Iron Man & Hulk Heroes United HD/GP $3.5
Iron Mask ‘19 HD/VU $4.5
It Follows HD/VU $3.5
It's a Wonderful Life HD/VU $3
Jack & Jill HD/MA $3.5
Jack Reacher 4K/IT $4.5
Jack Reacher Never Go Back HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Jack Ryan Shadow Recruit 4K/IT $4 or HD/VU $2.5
Jacob's Ladder HD/VU $4
Jane Got a Gun HD/VU $4
Jason Bourne HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Jesus Music HD/VU $3.5
Jexi HD/VU $3.5
Jobs HD/MA or IT $3.5
Joe HD/VU $3.5
Joe Kidd HD/IT $4
John Wick 1 & 2 Bundle HD/VU $4
John Wick 3 Parabellum 4K/VU $4.5
John Wick Chapter 2 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
John Wick HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
John Wick Trilogy 4K/VU $13 or HD/VU (#3 4K) $9 or all HD/VU $8
Journey to the West Conquering the Demons HD/VU $3.5
Joy HD/MA $3
Judy 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Juliet, Naked 4K/VU $5.5
Jumanji Welcome To The Jungle HD/MA $2.5
Jungle Book ‘16 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Jungle Cruise HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Jurassic Park 3 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Jurassic Park 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Jurassic World 5-film Set HD/MA $14
Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Kama Sutra HD/VU $4
Kick-Ass 2 HD/MA $3.5
Kid ‘19 HD/VU $3.5
Kid Who Would Be King 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Kill Zone ‘05 HD/VU $4.5
Killer Elite HD/IT $3
Killing Gunther HD/VU $4
Kin ‘18 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
King Kong ‘05 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
King of Staten Island HD/MA $4
King's Man HD/GP $3.5
Kingsman The Golden Circle HD/MA $3
Kingsman The Secret Service HD/MA $3.5
Knives Out HD/VU $3.5 s Knowing 4K/VU $5.5
La La Land HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Labor Day HD/VU or IT $3
Lady Macbeth HD/VU $4.5
Lady of the Manor 4K/VU $5
Lair of White Worm HD/VU $4.5
Lake Mungo HD/VU $4
Lara Croft Tomb Raider 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Last Dragon HD/MA $4.5
Last Duel HD/GP $3.5
Last Exorcism HD/VU $4
Last Knights HD/VU $3.5
Last Man ‘19 HD/VU $4
Last Vegas HD/VU $3
Last Witch Hunter 4K/IT $3.5
Lawrence of Arabia 4K/MA $5.5
Legends of Oz Dorothy's Return HD/MA $3.5
Leprechaun 7-film Set HD/VU $12
Let's be Cops HD/MA $3.5
Let Him Go HD/MA $4
Life ‘17 HD/MA $3.5
Life of Crime HD/VU $3.5
Life of Pi 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA or IT $3.5
Light of My Life HD/IT $3.5
Lightyear HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Like a Boss HD/VU $3.5
Lilo & Stitch 2 HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Lion HD/VU $4
Lion King ‘19 4K/MA $4 or HD/GP $2
Lion King ‘94 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Little HD/MA $3.5
Little Mermaid ‘89 HD/MA $4
Live Free or Die Hard HD/MA $4
Locked Down 4K/MA $5.5
Logan HD/MA $3
Logan Lucky HD/MA $3.5 or /IT $4
Lone Ranger HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Lone Survivor HD/VU $2.5
Longest Week HD/VU $3.5
Looper HD/MA $3.5
Lorax HD/MA or IT $3
Lord of War 4K/VU $5.5
Lords of Salem HD/VU $4
Lost World Jurassic Park HD/MA $3.5
Love & Mercy HD/VU $3.5
Love the Coopers HD/VU or IT $4
Love, Simon HD/MA $3.5
Loving HD/VU or IT $3.5
Luca HD/GP $3
Lucy 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Lyle, Lyle Crocodile HD/MA $4.5
Madagascar 3 HD/MA $3
Magic Mike's Last Dance HD/MA $4.5
Magnificent Seven ‘16 HD/VU $3
Maleficent HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Maleficent Mistress of Evil HD/GP $2.5
Man Who Fell To Earth ‘76 4K/VU $5
Man Who Shot Liberty Vance 4K/VU $5.5
Marauders HD/VU $3.5
Marksman HD/MA $4
Martian HD/MA $3.5
Mary Poppins ‘64 HD/MA $3.5 or ‘64 HD/GP $3
Mary Poppins Returns 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Mask of Zorro 4K/MA $6
Mauritanian 4K/IT $5
Max Steel HD/IT $3
Maze Runner HD/MA $3.5
McKenna Shoots for the Stars HD/IT $2
Meatballs HD/VU $4
Memory HD/MA $3.5
Men HD/VU $4
Men in Black 3 HD/MA $3
Men in Black 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
MI-5 Spooks '15 HD/VU $4
Mickey & Minnie 10 Classic Shorts HD/GP $4.5
Mid-Century 4K/VU $5
Midnight in the Switchgrass 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Midway 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Mile 22 HD/IT $3
Million Dollar Arm HD/GP $2.5
MindGamers HD/MA or IT $3.5
Minions 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Miracles from Heaven HD/MA $3.5
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children HD/MA $3
Mission Impossible 3 4K/VU $5
Mission Impossible 6-film Set HD/VU $17
Mommy HD/VU $4
Moneyball HD/MA $3
Monster High Electrified HD/IT $2.5
Monster Hunter HD/MA $3.5
Money Monster HD/MA $3.5
Monster Trucks HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Monsters University HD/GP $3
Monuments Men HD/MA $3.5
Moon 4K/MA $5.5
Morbius HD/MA $4
Morgan HD/MA $4
Mortal Engines 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Mortal HD/VU $4
Mortal Instruments City of Bones HD/MA $3
Mortdecai HD/VU $3.5
Mountain Between Us HD/MA $2.5
Mr. Peabody & Sherman HD/MA $3
Mulan ‘20 4K/MA $4.5 or ‘20 HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Mummy ‘17 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Mummy ‘99 HD/MA $3.5
Mummy 4-Film Set (Mummy 1-3, Scorpion King) HD/MA $12
Mummy Trilogy 4K/MA or IT $14 or HD/MA $9 4K/IT
Muppets Most Wanted HD/GP $3
Murder on the Orient Express HD/MA $3.5
My All American HD/MA or IT $3.5
My Best Friend is a Vampire HD/VU $4
National Lampoon's Vacation 4K/MA $5.5
Nebraska HD/VU $3
Need for Speed HD/GP $3.5
Needle in a Timestack 4K/VU $5.5
Nerve HD/VU $3.5
News of the World HD/MA $4
Night at the Museum Trilogy HD/MA $11
Night House HD/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $4
Nightmare Alley HD/GP $3.5
Nightmare Before Christmas 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
No Time to Die 4K/IT $4.5
Noah HD/VU or IT $2.5
Non-Stop HD/VU or IT $3
Norm of the North HD/VU $2.5
Nostalgia ‘18 HD/MA $3.5
Now You See Me 2 4K/IT $4
Now You See Me HD/VU or IT $2.5 or SD/VU $1
Nutcracker & Four Realms HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Oblivion 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Occupation ‘18 HD/VU $3.5
Occupation Rainfall HD/VU $4
Office Christmas Party 4K/IT $3.5
Olaf's Frozen Adventure HD/GP $3
Oliver! 4K/MA $5
On Chesil Beach HD/MA $4.5
One Ranger HD/VU $4.5
Onward HD/GP $2.5
Open Water 2 Adrift HD/VU $4
Open Water HD/VU $4
Operation Avalanche HD/VU $4
Ouija HD/MA or IT $3.5
Our Kind of Traitor HD/MA $4
Outlander S.1 Vol 1 HD/VU $5
Overboard ‘18 HD/VU $3.5
Oz the Great & Powerful HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Pacific Rim Uprising HD/MA $4
Paddington HD/VU $3.5
Pain & Gain HD/VU or IT $3.5
Paper Towns HD/MA $3
Paradise Highway 4K/VU $5
Paranormal Activity 3 (Ext) HD/VU or IT $3
Paranormal Activity Ghost Dimension (Unr) HD/VU or IT $3.5
Paranormal Activity HD/VU $4
Paranormal Activity The Marked Ones HD/VU or IT $3.5
Passengers HD/MA $3.5
Patriot Games 4K/VU $5
Patriot's Day HD/VU $3
Paul Apostle of Christ HD/MA $3
Peanuts Movie HD/MA $3
Penelope HD/VU $4.5
Peppermint HD/IT $3.5
Percy Jackson Sea of Monsters HD/MA $3
Perks of Being a Wallflower HD/VU or IT $3 or SD/VU or IT $1
Pet Sematary ‘19 HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Pet Sematary ‘89 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Peter Rabbit HD/MA $3.5
Pete's Dragon ‘16 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Phantom Thread HD/MA $4
Philomena HD/VU $2.5
Pirates of the Caribbean 5 HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Pitch Perfect 2 4K/MA $4 or HD/MA $2.5
Pitch Perfect HD/MA $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Pixar Short Films Set Vol. 3 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Planes Fire & Rescue HD/GP $3
Planes HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Planes, Trains & Automobiles 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Playing w/ Fire HD/VU or IT $2.5
Poltergeist ‘82 4K/MA $5.5
Poltergeist (Ext) ‘15 HD/MA $4
Pompeii HD/MA $3.5
Power Rangers ‘17 HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Predator ‘18 HD/MA $3
Predator ‘87 HD/MA $4
Pride & Prejudice & Zombies HD/MA $3.5
Primal HD/VU $3.5
Promise HD/MA or IT $3.5
Protege HD/VU $4
Proud Mary HD/MA $3.5
Psycho 4K/MA $5
Pulp Fiction 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Punisher War Zone 4K/VU $5.5
Purge Anarchy HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Purge Election Year HD/MA $3.5
Purge 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3 or
Push 4K/VU $6
Quantum of Solace HD/VU $4.5
Quarry 4K/VU $5
Quartet HD/VU $4
Queen of Katwe HD/GP $2.5
Quiet Ones HD/VU $3.5
Rambo ‘08 HD/VU $4
Rambo 5-film Set HD/VU $18
Rambo Last Blood 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Ran ‘85 4K/VU $5.5
Raya & the Last Dragon HD/MA $3.5
Rear Window 4K/IT $3.5
Rebel Without a Cause 4K/MA $5.5
Reclaim HD/VU $3.5
Redline ‘10 HD/VU $4.5
Reign of Assassins HD/VU $4.5
Replicant ‘01 HD/VU $3.5
Replicas HD/VU $3.5
Rescuers Down Under HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Rescuers HD/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $4
Reservoir Dogs HD/VU $4
Resident Evil Retribution 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Retaliation ‘17 HD/VU $4
Revenant 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Ricki & the Flash HD/MA $3
Riddick (Unr) HD/VU or IT $3
Ride Like a Girl HD/VU $4
Right At Your Door HD/VU $4
Right One 4K/VU $5.5
Rio 2 (Sing-Along) HD/MA $3
Riot HD/VU or IT $3
RIPD HD/IT $2.5
Risen HD/MA $3
Rob Zombie Trilogy (3 From Hell, House of 1000 Corpses, Devil's Rejects) HD/VU $8
Robin Hood ‘18 HD/VU $3
Robocop ‘14 HD/VU $2.5
Rocketman ‘19 HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Rocky Horror Picture Show HD/MA $4
Roman J. Israel Esq HD/MA $3
Ron's Gone Wrong HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Room '15 HD/VU $3.5
Rough Night 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Run The Race HD/MA $3
Runner Runner HD/MA $3.5
Rush HD/IT $3
Safe HD/VU or IT $2.5
Same Kind of Different As Me HD/VU or IT $3
Samson HD/MA $3.5
Santa Clause HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Santa Clause 2 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Santa Clause 3 HD/GP $2.5
Sapphires HD/VU $4
Sausage Party HD/MA $3.5
Saving Mr. Banks HD/GP $3
Saw (Unr) 4K/VU $4.5
Saw 7-film Set (Unr) HD/VU $16
Saw HD/VU $3
Scarface HD/MA $4 or 4K/IT $4.5
Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark 4K/VU $4.5
Schindler's List 4K/MA or IT $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Scream '96 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Scream Trilogy HD/VU $11
Secret Garden ‘20 4K/VU or IT $5.5
Secret in Their Eyes HD/VU or IT $3
Secret Life of Pets 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
See No Evil 2 HD/VU $3.5
Serenity ‘05 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Seriously Red HD/VU $4
Sex Tape HD/MA $3.5
Shallows HD/MA $3.5
Shang-Chi Legend of the Ten Rings HD/GP $3
Shape of Water HD/MA $3.5
Sherlock Gnomes HD/IT $2.5
Shivers HD/VU $4
Show Dogs HD/MA $3.5
Sicario HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Sicario Day of the Soldado HD/MA $4
Sicario, Wind River, Hell or High Water HD/VU $7.5
Side Effects HD/IT $3.5
Silencing HD/VU $4
Silent Night, Deadly Night 3-Film Set (3-5) HD/VU $7.5
Silk Road 4K/VU $5
Sing ‘16 HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Sing Street HD/VU $4
Sinister HD/VU $3
Skeleton Twins HD/VU $4
Skyfall HD/VU $2.5
Skyscraper 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Sleeping Beauty ‘59 HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Sleepy Hollow 4K/VU $6.5
Smokey & the Bandit HD/MA $3.5
Smokin' Aces 4K/MA $5.5
Smurfs The Lost Village HD/MA or IT $3
Snitch 4K/IT $3 or HD/VU $2.5 or SD/VU or IT $1
Snow White & the Huntsman (Ext) 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs ‘37 4K/MA $6 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Snowden HD/MA or IT $3.5
Snowpiercer HD/VU $4.5
Solo A Star Wars Story HD/GP $3
Son of God HD/MA $3
Sonic the Hedgehog 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Soul HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Source Code 4K/VU $5.5
Southpaw HD/VU $3
Spectre HD/VU $3.5
Spider-Man 2 (Thea & Ext) HD/MA $4.5
Spider-Man 3 HD/MA $3.5
Spider-Man 4-Cut Set (Spider-Man 2 w/ Thea & Ext) HD/MA $11.5
Spider-Man Far From Home HD/MA $3
Spider-Man Homecoming HD/MA $2.5
Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse HD/MA $4.5
Spider-Man No Way Home HD/MA $4 or SD/MA $2
Spies in Disguise HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Spinning Man HD/VU $4
Spiral 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Spontaneous HD/VU $4.5
Spy Who Dumped Me 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
St. Vincent HD/VU $3
Stand Up Guys HD/VU $3.5
Star Trek 3 Search for Spock 4K/VU $5
Star Trek Beyond HD/VU $3
Star Trek Into Darkness HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Star Trek The Motion Picture ‘79 4K/VU $5
Steel Dawn HD/VU $3.5
Still Alice HD/MA $4
Straight Outta Compton (Unr) HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Strange World HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Suburbicon HD/VU $3 or /IT $3.5
Super 8 4K/VU or IT $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Sword in the Stone HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Taken 2 HD/MA $3.5
Taken 3 (Unr) HD/MA $3.5
Tangled HD/GP $3.5
Ted (Unr) HD/MA or IT $2.5
Teen Spirit ‘19 HD/MA $4
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ‘14 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $2.5
Terminator 2 Judgment Day (Special) HD/VU $4.5
Terminator 2 Judgment Day 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Terminator Genisys HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Texas Chainsaw ‘13 HD/VU $3.5
Thanks for Sharing HD/VU $4
The Heat HD/MA $3
The Impossible HD/VU $3.5
Think Like a Dog 4K/VU $5
This is the End HD/MA $3.5
Thor Dark World HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Thor Love & Thunder HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Thor Ragnarok HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri HD/MA $3.5
To Kill a Mockingbird HD/MA $3.5
Toll HD/VU $4.5
Tomorrowland HD/GP $3
Top Gun ‘86 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Total Recall ‘90 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Touched w/ Fire HD/VU $4.5
Toy Story HD/GP $3.5
Toy Story 4 4K/MA $4 or HD/GP $2
Training Day 4K/MA $5.5
Transformers Age of Extinction HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Transformers Dark of the Moon 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Transformers The Last Knight 4K/VU or IT $4 or HD/VU $2.5
Trust ‘16 HD/VU $4
Tucker The Man & His Dream 4K/VU $5
Tulip Fever HD/VU $4
Tumbledown HD/VU $4
Turbo HD/MA or IT $3
Turning HD/MA $4
Ugly Dolls 4K/VU or IT $5.5
Unbreakable HD/GP $3.5
Uncharted 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Uncle Drew HD/VU $3.5
Underworld Awakening HD/MA $3
Underworld Blood Wars HD/MA $3
Untouchables 4K/VU $5.5
Us ‘19 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Valerian & the City of a Thousand Planets HD/VU $3.5
Vampire Academy HD/VU $3.5
Vanishing ‘18 HD/VU $4
Venom 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Victoria & Abdul HD/MA $4
Virtuoso 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Vivo HD/MA $4.5
Voices ‘14 HD/VU $4
Voyagers 4K/VU $5
Walk HD/MA $3.5
Wall '17 HD/VU $4
War for the Planet of the Apes HD/MA $3
War of the Worlds ‘53 4K/VU $5.5
War on Everyone HD/VU $4
Warcraft 4K/IT $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Warhunt 4K/VU $4.5
Warning HD/VU $4
Watch HD/MA or IT $3.5
Wayne's World HD/VU $4.5
We Die Young HD/VU $3.5
Weekend HD/VU $4
Werewolf The Beast Among Us (Unr) HD/MA or IT $3.5
West Side Story 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
What We Did on our Holiday HD/VU $4
When the Game Stands Tall HD/MA $3
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot HD/VU or IT $3
Why Him? HD/MA $3
Widows HD/MA $3.5
Wild Card HD/VU $3
Willow HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Wilson HD/MA $3.5
Winchester HD/VU $3.5
Winnie the Pooh Springtime w/ Roo HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Wolf Hound 4K/VU $4.5
Wolf of Wall Street 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU or IT $3.5
Wolverine (Unr) (w/Thea) HD/MA $3.5
Woman in Gold HD/VU $3.5
Won't Back Down HD/MA $3.5
Woodlawn HD/MA or IT $3.5
Wraith HD/VU $4
X-Men Apocalypse HD/MA $3
X-Men Days of Future Past HD/MA $3
XXX Return of Xander Cage HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
Z for Zachariah HD/VU $4
Zero Dark Thirty HD/MA $3.5
Zeros & Ones HD/VU $4
Zootopia HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5

Aboard the SES Harbinger of Family Values, orbiting Super Earth Training Planet Mars. September 26th, 2184

The trip to Mars was a relatively short thirty-minute trip, but a stomach-churning one at that, at least for the drones. The FTL Jump, as they called it, looked and felt like something out of a Star Wars movie. Uzi had just finished her fifth Liber-Cig, as it said on the cigarette. Uzi flicked the butt of the cigarette away before promptly crushing it under her boot. She was now onto the sixth. Uzi bit the inside of her cheek, then she exhaled, watching the white and dark gray wisps leave her mouth and disappear. The worker wasn’t too off the rails stoned, though she did have a weird, almost nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. She, and the rest of the drones had been given Helldiver armor that fit them, which was a child’s size for Uzi, unsurprisingly. It was painfully embarrassing to wear, and the worker was half-expecting someone to jab at her for her height. The super titanium weighed her down somewhat, but not as much as she thought it would, given it's name. Sadly, there was no helmet that could fit either of their heads, so they had to go helmetless. Not like that was much of a problem either way. Those things looked suffocating.
J was staring through the window of the bridge just by the Hellpods, observing the Red Planet and growling through ground teeth as she twiddled with her now shortened ponytail, using the glass as a mirror. She had lost her twin tails because of the constant bugging from Rex combined with Super Earth regulations. J couldn’t remember half of what the Helldiver said, and frankly; she was too pissed off anyway. Something about long hair having a tendency to be singed and catching ablaze. Her hair wasn’t even that long, for Robo-God’s sake! Uzi barely noticed Pelican standing by her as the worker leaned on the railing, just below the technicians click-clacking away on their keyboards, preparing guns, and adjusting coordinates. Uzi brushed her bangs away from her face as she took another drag, exhaling once more; then looking up to the VTOL pilot, finally registering his presence. ‘ What do you want?’ “Hm?” Came out instead as she looked up to the human. He was without his helmet, his dusty blonde hair tousled from what seemed like hours of time pressed up in a pilot’s headgear. He arched an eyebrow when he laid eyes on the can the drone had in hand, which the teen promptly tried to hide behind her back; vainly so, her neon purple optics not breaking eye contact with his chocolate orbs. “You don’t look old enough to smoke, kid.”
‘ Robo-Christ, you sound like my father. If he actually gave a damn. ’

“I’m eighteen, that should be old enough.” Uzi’s voice was monotone, robotic, almost resigned and exasperated. As if she had said this a million times beforehand. She finally broke eye contact with the pilot, rubbing where a human’s temples would be at. Her gaze falling to the clean metal flooring, raising the cigarette to her lips once more, lulling her head back slightly and taking another drag. Uzi didn’t know if it was the addicting, nerve-calming feeling of smoking, or the recent incident at Hellmire, but Uzi found herself going for drag after drag of the stuff. She had also drank some alcohol beforehand, the strawberry flavored drink's effects still lingering on her. Pelican noticed the small purple blush lines on her visor. The VTOL pilot had seen far too much anime to not know what that meant. "You drank too?” Uzi’s optics sharpened, and her neon purple eyebrows pulled together. Her optic twitched. “I’m not that drunk, if that’s what you’re implying.” She muttered, a hint of irritation in her voice. There was a slight slur to Uzi's words that told Pelican otherwise.
‘ I’d be lucky if I don't puke during training. ’ Uzi's legs felt like jelly as the effects of non-stop smoking truly kicked in. Her throat felt dry and scratchy, the smell of nicotine that was just now evident was now nowhere to be found. And to top it off, an urge to cough due to the incessant scratching and burning in her throat.
“Please, lay off the booze. Don’t need you stumbling ‘round the area drunk out of your mind. You're already relying on the railings to keep yourself standing. One too many, huh…” Pelican muttered the last part under his breath, turning away from the drone and quickly walking off, silently praying she didn't hear him.

She did. Even though her throat and her chemosensory receptors burned like hell, Uzi found herself taking another puff, running a hand through her hair as the smoke flew out of her mouth and into the air. Unable to hold it much longer, Uzi brought the crook of her elbow to her mouth, suppressing a cough that only worsened the burning in her throat.

‘ Yeah, really one too many… ’
V, on the other hand, after a couple of minutes of wandering the frankly huge spaceship, had stumbled upon a massive shooting range, with all kinds of weapons mounted on three different racks that stretched up two feet taller than her, each with small sterile lights, casting a glow on the various weapons. On the wooden table near the pistol rack, was a radio. It played a very faint song, and V was unable to hear most of it. Driven by a piqued curiosity, V approached the radio and turned the dial, turning up the volume. She was immediately graced by a rather peaceful guitar melody, which was followed up by drums, and soothing vocals.

I'm so happy, ‘cause today I found my friends, they're in my head… I'm so ugly, that's okay ‘cause so are you, broke our mir’rs…

Despite being a tad confused beforehand, V found herself slightly swaying her head back and forth to the rock n’ roll rhythm while the drone walked over to the rifle rack, positioned near the door. It was an infectious melody that even made her hum along to the singing. Just as she took the one of the rifles, the song began to amp up, as if it was readying itself, and V for what was to come. The rifle looked like a mixture of a Styer AUG, and a SCAR-15, but it fit perfectly in the murder drone’s hand. V took aim, almost missing the metal target hanging by two chains as she excitedly pulled the trigger, expecting it to fire off multiple times.

It only fired once. All of that excitement was quickly flushed out of her body by a growing disappointment, despite the recoil kicking like a drunken mule. Growling in a mix of anger and disappointment, V angrily threw the rifle aside, the sound of the weapon clattering echoing through the now silent air. ‘ Rifles were a complete letdown. What now…? ’
There were machine guns, but only three of them. Intrigued, and with the childlike excitement of approximately 10 seconds ago returning, V almost broke into a sprint across the range, nabbing the small-sized gun from it's hold with a deranged smile plastered on her face that her colleagues came to know her for.

I'm so lonely, that's okay I shaved my head, and I'm not sad… And just maybe I'm to blame for all I've heard, but I'm not sure…

Taking aim once more, the machine gun spit fire, bullets flying from the barrel as the metal dummy was tattered with bullet holes. V's smile grew as she held down the trigger. She barely heard the door swoosh open and close.

I like you, I'm not gonna crack…

“Hey, V.” A certain drone's voice made V jump, almost dropping the machine gun as she spun on her heel to the source of the sound. V’s pulse drilled and her heart gave a little flutter at the sight of the male murder drone.
V mentally shook herself, and gave herself an additional two mental gut punches as their eyes met for a moment, before the lightly blushing drone tore her gaze from him. ‘ Get a grip, V. He's not into you. You already fucked up that chance. ’ V spared a slight grimace as her mind went over all of the times she had acted like N didn't exist. She had no doubt smashed his heart billions of times before without any hesitation, so why now ?

‘ Stop looking at him like that. He isn't into you anymore, V. ’

But her eyes refused to heed her commands. V leaned against the wooden barrier separating the shooting area from the targets, watching as N joined her, leaning right next to her. Their shoulders brushed against each other, and V sucked in a breath, trying her hardest to avoid eye contact. V’s mins raced with all sorts of fantasies, the primal need of feeling him on her completely overtaking her mind, but the drone would not let it reach her hands.
‘ No, no! You're just looking more obvious! ’ No matter how hard V tried to collect herself, and to retain that almost psychotic indifference, whenever she laid eyes on N, it all melted away like a slice of butter on a hot pan.

“Are you… Alright?” N asked, innocently tapping V’s shoulder, which only heightened her feelings.

‘ Goddamn hormones… ’ “Y-yeah..” V struggled to splutter out a response, completely unable to stop her heart's constant fluttering, nor the butterflies zooming about in her stomach. “Been a bit… Out of it, but I'll manage. Thanks for asking though.” Her words came out like word vomit, but N still caught onto each letter. V felt a knot in her stomach form when she and N made eye contact for a nanosecond.
“Wish I could have your endurance.” N said, oblivious to the hell he was putting V through the more he spoke about her in such a light. It made her feel wanted, accepted, and that knot in her stomach tightened. His hand brushed on hers, and V could've sworn she had just traveled up to heaven and back in a split second. Her vision spun, and V bit her lip hard. Not enough to draw oil, but just enough to knock the fantasizing drone back into reality, digitized sweat beading on the top of her visor. “Th-thanks.” She stammered a reply. “It's really not something to be proud of, at least for me.”

V once again mentally punched herself. ‘ Calm yourself, girl! Don't embarrass yourself like this. ’

“You oka-”

Another brush of the hand. V bit her lip again, this time hard enough to draw oil. Her heart drilled once again in her audio receptors. ‘ Oh, no, no, no. Don’t you do something you’ll regret. The damage has already been done. GET. OUT. ’

“Y-yeah, I'm okay! Just a bit anxious.” V answered overenthusiastically, as if she was actually excited about what was to come, which she really was not. V leapt upwards, keen on not letting her rampant infatuation take over more than it already had.
Oh, now her body wants to respond. V’s mouth went dry, her breathing quickened despite her best efforts of steadying it, and the words of farewell blocked up in her throat, so the drone opted for plan B. Gesturing a quick goodbye before hightailing it out of the range, the door hissing shut behind her. N was left taken aback, and a bit concerned. But oh, sweet mother of God, that boy left her completely on her mental knees the moment their eyes met.

And V hated herself for enjoying every second of it.
Author's Ramblings: Told ya'll double post! V is obvious as fuck, and Uzi has a smoking problem now! What has Hellmire done to these poor drones?

The original prompt can be found here.
Paisley sat on the wooden bench outside of the director’s office. She had watched the dust motes drift in the sunbeams filtering through the hall’s windows until the light had sunk behind the trees. Stars had started to appear thirty minutes ago.
Her stomach rolled and she wasn’t sure if it was hunger or nerves. She’d taken the test with the rest of the students this morning. She hadn’t cheated - that was impossible anyways - and she thought she’d done okay but instead of receiving her results with the rest of the students, she’d been called to the office and had been waiting outside ever since.
Paisley had tried listening through the thick oak door, but her attempts had been foiled when the director cast a spell to muffle their words. Important people began showing up shortly after.
The Governor. Principals of Iron Gate and Leeway and Thorn Universities. Heads of the Magic Regulation and Testing Departments. Others she didn’t recognize. Each gave her an odd look as they left, but not one said a word.
Paisley itched to stand up, to pace, to peek through the window to the office, but she forced herself to sit, her knee bouncing in anticipation.
Finally, the door opened.
“Miss. Greendale,” the director’s assistant said, holding the door open.
Paisley stood and straightened her skirt then nervously stepped into the office, her legs tingling from having sat for so long.
“Have a seat.” The director motioned to an empty chair across from his desk.
Behind him stood one of the heads from the Testing Department and the Governor's assistant. Paisley felt her throat go dry.
“I apologize for making you wait for so long,” the man said once Paisley had sat. “This has been rather an… interesting afternoon.” The director gave a small chuckle that didn’t have much levity.
Paisley looked at the man and woman standing behind the director. The head of the Testing Department, a middle aged woman wearing bright red lipstick, gave her a small smile. The governor’s assistant didn’t quite meet Paisley’s eyes.
The director cleared his throat. “To cut to the chase, you did well on the exam. Very well.”
“I didn’t cheat!” Paisley clapped a hand over her mouth. She stared at the small group with wide eyes.
The head of the Testing Department licked her lips. “Of course you didn’t,” she said after a moment. “That’s impossible.”
“That makes your score all the more remarkable.” The director hesitated. “Your score was off the charts.”
“What?” Paisley wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.
“Your magical potential is higher than anyone in history.”
“What?” Paisley’s voice came out a whisper.
The director nodded.
“B-but that’s not,” Paisley cleared her throat. “That’s not possible. The last person who scored so high…”
“You are three orders of magnitude more powerful than him.”
Paisley stared at the man. He had to be joking. This had to be a joke. The test had to be wrong.
“That’s not possible,” she said, her voice cracking.
“The test isn’t wrong,” the testing department head said.
Paisley shook her head. She had grown up with the stories.
Charlie Barrows. Nearly two decades ago, he had scored two magnitudes higher than the most powerful mages of the day. He had been treated like a prince. The country’s golden child. The best schools. The best teachers. His pick of careers. The world had been laid at his feet. Everyone expected incredible things from him.
Just over five years later, Charlie Barrows snapped. It had taken a small army to stop him, but he’d still escaped.
They never found him.
Now, people pretended he never existed, hoping he didn’t resurface.
Infamous. Deadly. Wanted.
“I’m not like him.”
The director shifted in his seat and glanced over Paisley's shoulder at his assistant. “Of course not,” he said, eyes flicking back to Paisley.
Paisley could have sworn she heard uncertainty in his voice.
“For now, we would like to keep this quiet,” the director continued. “As you may have already guessed, the Governor and the heads of the Magic Departments have been notified, as have the Principles of some of the country’s most prestigious universities. They have begun reaching out to colleagues to begin tutoring.”
Paisley’s head spun. No. No, no no. This wasn’t happening. It was just like the stories.
“I-I don’t want that,” she said.
The director shook his head. “You have a gift, Miss. Greendale. You can help a lot of people.”
Paisley shook her head.
“Just think about it. We’ve contacted your parents, and they are waiting for you outside. They are aware of your potential. Talk it over with them.” The director nodded, signaling the end of the conversation.
After an entire afternoon of waiting, Paisley stood. Her knees shook, but she steeled herself as she turned her back and slowly walked out the door.
Paisley couldn’t be sure if the ride home had been quiet or if her parent’s praises had been muffled by the roaring in her head. She remembered the time she’d been swimming at the lake as a kid and had slipped and lost her footing. The water was murky and she couldn’t be sure which direction was up as the current tugged at her clothes, dragging her along. The voices were quiet and indistinct until a pair of hands caught her and thrust her to the surface.
The orb glowed from the stand on her desk. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to anyone. Not yet.
Paisley tapped the crystal ball and Eliza’s smiling face shimmered into existence.
“Lili!” Eliza shrieked, bouncing with excitement. “You’ll never guess! Call me back!”
Paisley swiped to the next message.
“Hey Paze, call me back,” Eliza said, more subdued. “I didn’t see you at the reception. Is everything okay?”
“Seriously, Paisley,” Eliza said in the next message. “Is everything okay? No one has seen you since the test. Did something happen? Call me back.”
Paisley sighed. She really wanted to collapse on her bed and forget today even happened, but she placed her palm on the orb and thought of Eliza’s face.
“You’re alive!” Eliza said a split second later. “I was going to send out a search party.”
Paisley gave a small smile. She knew Eliza had been waiting near her own orb.
“You’re up late,” she said.
“And you look terrible. What happened?”
Paisley hesitated. “Long story,” she finally said. “How was the test?”
Eliza held up her certificate. “Guess who is a brand new class B mage!”
“That’s amazing! What step?”
“Nine! It’s not incredibly high, but I’ll be able to study Alchemical Warding!”
“That’s amazing.”
Eliza had always hoped to study alchemy. A bridge between the magics and the sciences. She had studied hard and with that potential, she’d get into a good school.
“How did you do?”
Paisley glanced away from Eliza, her face distorted and shimmery in the glowing sphere.
“It’s a long story. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Was it bad? Is that why you weren’t at the ceremony?”
Paisley barked a laugh. The absolute irony. She had looked forward to the ceremony for years. She had worked so hard for even a chance at attending. Only those with a high enough potential could attend.
Eliza’s face dropped. “Oh. Oh no. Pails, I’m so sorry. I know how much you wanted this.”
Paisley shook her head and laughed. It wasn’t something to laugh at, and she couldn’t quite explain it, but she laughed. She clutched her stomach and tears rolled down her face and Eliza watched, utterly perplexed, from twenty miles away.
“Paisley?”
Paisley gasped for breath and wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if they were from laughing or stress or anger.
“This is so stupid.” Paisley scrubbed at the tears with the back of her hand. “I just… it’s been a long day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Yes. Paisley desperately wanted to talk about it. Paisley needed to talk about it. But she wasn’t supposed to talk about it.
“Please,” Paisley said quietly. “You can’t say anything. To anyone.”
Eliza sat in shock when Paisley finished.
“Three orders of magnitude?”
Paisley nodded.
“But, how?” Eliza shook her head. “That’s…”
“Incredible? Amazing? Impossible?” Paisley snorted. “I don’t want this.”
Eliza was quiet. Paisley could hear a faint tapping and knew Eliza was drumming her fingers on her desk as she thought.
“You could do a lot of good with that kind of power.”
“Everyone knows potential doesn’t necessarily equate to power.”
“Unrealized potential,” Eliza corrected. “Your options are limitless.”
Paisley was quiet and the silence stretched between them. Then Eliza stopped drumming her fingers.
“You could also be incredibly dangerous.”
Paisley’s mom shook her awake the next morning two hours before her alarms were set to go off. Light from the front yard filtered through her blinds and cast stark lines across her bed and wall.
“Honey,” her mom said, worry tingeing her voice. “You need to wake up.”
Paisley sat up, bleary eyed. She thought she heard a commotion coming from the front yard.
“What’s going on?”
“Get dressed, honey. There’s people from the Magic Department here for you.”
“What?” Paisley was awake now. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“It’s okay, honey. Just get dressed. They’re waiting for you in the living room.”
When her mom left the room, Paisley slipped to the window and peaked through the blinds. Vans lined the street and the yard was filled with people and cameras and microphones. Someone saw the blinds shift and a few of the cameras started to pan towards her. Paisley dropped the blinds and backed away from the window, her breath coming in quick gasps.
Someone talked.
Paisley quickly threw on some clothes not really caring what they looked like and rushed to the living room. One of the department heads she had seen yesterday stood talking to her parents. Six more men and women wearing business suits and looking like they got a full eight hours of sleep stood alert near the doors and windows.
“Miss. Greendale,” the head said. “I am Mage Selket. I apologize for the early house call, but as you may have guessed from the media parked on your lawn, word has gotten out about your potential. I’ll be frank. This is a precarious situation. People are on edge from the events twenty years ago. We are here to escort you to a safe house until the situation can be resolved. First, I need to know. Did you tell anyone?”
Paisley blinked. She resisted the urge to say ‘Hi Frank, I’m dad’ and tried to process everything he’d said despite the brain fog. Eliza. She’d told Eliza. But Eliza wouldn’t have said anything.
Paisley shook her head. Mage Selket raised an eyebrow and Paisley resisted the urge to blurt out Eliza’s name.
After a moment Selket shrugged. “Do you have a bag packed?”
Before Paisley could say no, her mom handed her a duffle.
“Just some clothes and toiletries until we can bring you some more.”
“You’re not coming?”
“We need to move quickly,” Selket said. “Your parents will be fine.”
Paisley’s mom helped her into a coat. “We’ll bring you some more of your things once things calm down,” she whispered, then gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Keep your head down,” Selket said. “And say nothing.”
Before she could say another word, Paisley was ushered out the door into a cacophony of voices. Cameras flashed and microphones were pushed at the group. She heard her name called over and over and she resisted the urge to find the faces belonging to the voices she didn’t recognize. The people in business suits cleared a small bubble around her as they hurried her through the mob.
Suddenly, the air beside her compressed and she heard a small pop as a man appeared.
She looked up at him. His sharp nose and curly hair. Something about him seemed familiar.
“Paisley Greendale, I presume?” he asked with a smile.
Paisley heard someone in the ground gasp. It was followed by a split second of silence then yelling as Paisley’s suited guards turned too slowly.
The man placed a hand on her shoulder and bent closer to her ear to be heard over the tumult.
“Charlie Barrows,’ he said loudly. “Hold your breath.”
With a pop, they were gone.
Paisley sat on a plush carpet as Charlie Barrows pounded her on the back between the shoulder blades.
“Breathe, Paisley! Breathe!”
Paisley gasped for breath and began to cough. The edges of her vision fuzzed. It felt like all the air had been squeezed from her lungs.
“There you go,” Charlie said, standing up once Paisley had caught her breath.
She looked around, dazed.
“Where?” she wheezed.
“Welcome to my house,” Charlie said. He grasped her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Apologies for the abrupt rescue. Would you care for some tea? Coffee? Caffeine would probably do you good.”
Paisley was pretty sure she should be furious or terrified or some other emotion befitting a kidnapping, but she was too shocked and tired to fully process everything that had happened. Thirty minutes ago, she’d been sound asleep.
She studied the tall man. He looked normal. An older version of the pictures, but not the terrifying, inhuman monster she’d imagined as a kid. And judging from the shelves lining the walls, an avid reader.
“Coffee, I think,” Charlie said. He clapped his hands together. “We have a lot to discuss. This way!”
He abruptly turned and left the room. Paisley stood for a moment, then she grabbed her bag and followed.
Paisley hesitantly sat at the counter. She looked around the clean but poorly stocked kitchen. The coffee maker in the corner began to bubble and soon the warm smell of cheap coffee filled the small room.
“Do you like toast?” Charlie fiddled with a toaster that looked to be nearly a century old and a major electrical hazard.
Paisley ignored his question. “Why am I here?” she asked quietly.
“Now that is a very complicated question that delves both into scientific and theological aspects," he said over his shoulder. "I believe that every person on the planet has a unique role to fill, a destiny if you may, though a destiny you can shape. If-”
“No,” Paisley interrupted. “What’s going on? Why am I here? Why did you…” She didn’t want to actually say ‘kidnapped’.
“Oh, for your protection.”
“My protection?”
Charlie turned around, confused. “Of course, why else…” He trailed off as realization began to dawn. “Oh. Oh dear. I’ve kidnapped you, haven’t I? Oh dear. But I assure you that was not my intention. You may leave. I’ll pay for transport. Whatever you need. I only ask you to listen to what I have to say first. Do you like eggs?”
Paisley shook her head.
Charlie opened a bag of bread and dropped two slices in the toaster. “There is a lot more to this than what any of those people will ever tell you. You shouldn’t have to learn like I did. And you should be able to choose for yourself.”
Paisley thought for a moment.
“Again, I have no ill will toward you, and you are certainly free to leave at any time,” Charlie said. “I am fully aware of my reputation.”
“You’re not what I expected,” Paisley finally said.
“I should hope not.”
“Well, for one of the most powerful mages in the world, your toast is burning.”

England (hastings specifically)
As the title suggests, my boiler has issues. It's an OLD immersion boiler with no temperature control. The water gets hot enough to leave 1st degree burns, which I know because I've had them. As well as partially melting my tupperware.
I reported this issue shortly after moving in and the landlord sent a plumber to investigate. His recommendation was to tear out the boiler and replace. But the landlord has not budged in the 9 months since this suggestion was made due to the cost. (Granted, due to the installation of the boiler, this would mean tearing apart most of the kitchen.)
What are my options here?
Do I leave it? Do I go against my tenancy agreement and install mixer taps? (The agreement states that no plumbing can be changed without express permission from the landlord and that the work has to be carried out by his maintenance team.) (Also. The landlord has refused to answer my request on that matter)

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Mission Log: Day 0024

Addendum 07

​ Kregorim's facial hair twitched; I would almost swear that the man was trying to conceal a smile under there. ​
Admittedly, I felt at least slightly similar, but I had other fish to fry at the moment. ​
“I feel obliged to address a point that... I believe you and the rest of the group have taken to calling him 'Lord Zee' out of his hearing, for brevity's sake?” I asked. ​
Kregorim puffed a breath across his tea, freshly mixed from the samovar, then took a short sip before answering. “Crisp and tart, with a bit of sweetness,” he commented, a note of approval in his voice, raising his eyes to face the avatar's. “...Overall, a most agreeable brew.” He set the mug back on the chair's armrest and rested his chin in his other hand. “Yes, despite his protestations about the 'indignity', most of us in our little group have adopted the practice,” he admitted. “The full title is a bit of a mouthful and since the party left the Ducal States two months ago we've found ourselves in more than one situation where brevity meant the difference between proceeding northward and...” He grimaced before finishing, “... Let us call it 'an end to our journey' and leave it at that.” ​
I animated the avatar nodding, trying to work a 'sympathetic expression' out of the sketch of a face by adding a few extra lines here and there before returning to a 'neutral yet friendly' face. “In any event, Lord Zee expressed some disapproval at not being able to secure the doors.” I animated the avatar pointing at the biometric scanner on the interior wall, mirroring the one outside the door. “He, and everyone else, can access the locks by that panel. For the sake of convenience, I've already set up higher levels of permissions for each of the larger quarters to the first ones to touch the panels. With specific reference to Lord Zee's, I've set up preferential access for him to supersede Tianna's.” I animated the avatar shrugging. “It costs me nothing, and I figure that he'd prefer to have the ability to lock out Packard and his crew if necessary. So far, though, no one seems to have tried to find the locking protocols.” ​
Kregorim nodded. “If you've no objections, I'll be sure to pass on the knowledge to him and the rest of the servants,” he said. “Though it does still beg the question of how to decree who is permitted to enter which spaces and who is not.” ​
“They can be locked and unlocked, with nothing more than the press of a hand, though if anyone preferred I can also accept spoken passwords or a few other methods,” I answered. “I've temporarily re-assigned ownership of each unit to the first person to press their hands to the plates, as you've seen. From there, I can walk them through granting permissions to their particular servants and anyone else in the party, if they so choose.” ​
“A permission you can grant is also something you can withdraw,” Kregorim pointed out. “How am I to reassure Lord Zee that he will retain supreme access power over his own quarters, if not the entire structure?” ​
I animated the avatar's shoulders slumping while lowering its head, a small cloud puffing out of his mouth while I sighed. “There really are limits to how much I can allow anyone inside to take total control over all the doors,” I said. “I'm supposed to help large groups of people recover from disasters of every type, and 'civil wars' qualify just as well as 'abusive relationships'.” ​
I paused, sending the very best approximation of a 'knowing look' I could manage with such a minimally-realistic face as the avatar currently had. Kregorim nodded once, and I took that as a cue to continue. ​
“I can grant him almost-final authority over the doors to his own quarters, of course. And as soon as he's ready for the climb down the stairs, I can grant him basic access to the floors below the surface, but frankly because none of you have any idea how to view the things down there safely I can't let any of you have full run of the facilities yet.” ​
Kregorim nodded. “Yes, the 'farms' you mentioned earlier. I must admit to a considerable degree of curiosity about that, myself. There are a few folk in the Ducal States and beyond the borders who cultivate various fungi, lichen and odder things for food, but I saw little evidence of any such in the offerings in your... refrigerator.” ​
I animated the avatar pointing up at the ceiling. “They get necessary light from more of the 'flameless lamps', and water and nutrients from other sources,” I explained. “And I suppose that you'll need to be the first to go down to see the more in-depth explanation of what kind of building your group has entered. Once you see it and understand something about the operations, you'll be better-equipped to explain to the others how all of this works.” ​
He digested that for a moment. “Such a bounty,” he murmured to himself, then raised his voice to face the avatar. “And yet, you've still danced past the question of 'cost', assuring me, at least, that you'll need neither oaths or other sacrifices.” He leaned forward, doing his level best to spear the avatar in place with a piercing gaze. “What, exactly, is the price for the Lignignory party claiming this property, Joachim of the mysterious outpost?” he asked. ​
I animated the avatar pointing at the flackaroos in the first screen, tapping on the small but growing pile of dung. “Primarily, this,” I answered. “As well as similar materials provided by the two-legged folk in the group. But also anything and everything that the group decides to discard. Scraps of fabric too small to be re-woven into anything useful. Spoiled food or drinks.” A fifth monitor-window opened up, showing the patio-side of the ground floor; Adallinda and Pippa had just exited out the glass door from the dawnward bedroom, the lower edges of the former's too-voluminous dress showing signs of wear and tear. “The fabricators in her chosen apartment could repair Adallinda's outfit, most likely improve the design in several ways, but at least a portion of the 'price' would come from all the residue of her own flesh working its way deeply into the fabric.” ​
“And precisely how would these... 'fees'... be collected?” he asked, waggling a finger. “No more prevaricating, please; an old fellow like me only has so much energy for excessively-extended tales. I find myself quite curious about the point.” ​
“It relates to what you initially sensed, when you were questing for 'enemies' on Lord Zee's behalf up in the foyer,” I answered. “I'm glad you're already sitting down, because I know for a fact that the explanation takes a while longer than you probably want to spend while standing upright...” ​

Addendum 08

​
Once the explanation of 'nanites' finished, Kregorim leaned back into his chair, staring. “Uncanny,” he said, half to himself. “... I've already felt that slavery was a waste of perfectly sound minds and bodies, but to think that the drudgery they undergo will be replaced by crystalline insects too small to be seen with the naked eye...” ​
He seemed to realize what he had just said, and his bushy eyebrows rose even further. “The Lignignories will not take this realization well,” he stated, his voice flat. “The trinkets and trifles around the heirlooms they managed to collect before their ignominious exit from the Capitol mean less to them than the renewable resources of their 'stock'.” He shook his head. “You were very wise to share this with me alone, first, Joachim. From what I've learned of the family, I cannot help but think that they'll try to destroy you if they suspect your true potential...” ​
I animated the avatar nodding, but adding a thin smile. “Emphasis on 'try', my friend. I'm a great deal more resilient than they would believe.” I let the words hang in the air for a moment, before the avatar clapped his hands. “Well, enough of that. We can certainly lay suitable plans some other time, after you've all gotten comfortable after your long journey.” ​
Kregorim's eyes seemed to sink more deeply into the shadows under his eyebrows, but he nodded once before returning his attention to the still-active monitoring windows. The lines of servants transferring goods still flowed, though Nehdud had made his way to the ground-floor lounge-room and taken to sulking on one of the couches while Stakkeg provided him with mug after mug of water. “The party seems to have maintained their focus on efforts to transfer the Lignignories' effects down to their new chambers,” he observed. ​
“I take it that they'll get your property down here once the Lignignories have all been settled in?” I asked. ​
Kregorim shrugged, sipping more tea. “Eventually. I'll still need to soothe the poor arkumea out of their fear of touching any of my luggage. At least temporarily.” He let out a drawn-out sigh; I took a moment to consult my copy of Sudryal's vocabulary and determined that ahr-khoo-mee-ah referred to immature forms of common herd-animals, something like lambs but with feathers and somehow sporting six legs. “These old bones would not appreciate carrying my collapsible orrery down those twelve half-flights of stairs, my friend.” ​
I animated the avatar wincing. “Ah, yeah, about that...” The avatar pointed at the window showing the first-floor lounge area, then pulled the 'toothpick' out from behind his ear before turning it into a pointer. “One of the guards had noticed these columns along the cliff-face side of the room, commenting on how they corresponded with an inaccessible column running up to behind the structure I call the 'foyer'.” ​
Kregorim murmured the word to himself a time or two before gesturing at the image. “They wouldn't happen to be some sort of magical staircase you're still finishing, would they?” he asked, and there was definitely a smile behind that bushy beard this time. ​
“Not as such. You're familiar with these devices?” I asked. I animated the avatar swinging the pointer off to tap on a spot on the opposite side from the monitor-windows; a simple wire-frame sketch of a wooden box, pulleys, ropes and a vertical shaft formed at the virtual 'contact point'. “We call them dumbwaiters back home,” I explained. ​
Kregorim studied the diagram for a moment; the light of comprehension shone through those bushy eyebrows after I animated the whole thing to show how the box moved up and down between the two endpoins. “I take it that the term refers to how this mechanism serves as a mute servant, of sorts?” he asked, before waving his free hand and taking another sip of his tea. “Let us save that discussion for when matters are less busy. Do you mean that such things are hidden behind those panels?” ​
“Not 'hidden'. Rather, I'm still building them.” ​
“I see... more of your 'nanites' at work, I take it?” ​
“Exactly. I've spent most of the last 24 days excavating most of the ground under the riverbed for about [half a kilometer] upstream and down, and just to the edge of the cliff-face on the opposite side to collect the necessary materials and the by this time tomorrow those spaces will boast somewhat plain but very safe devices called 'elevators' suitable for bringing people and goods from the residential levels here up to the foyer and back again, as smoothly as drifting across a calm pond. But don't worry, I've also re-shaped the spaces underneath into very stable dressed-stone vaults. Now I'm focusing on the area above and beyond the ridgeline, starting about [twenty meters] from the top and then outward to the same [half-kilometer] distance. Among other things, it'll let me start work on the next floor of residences, but...” ​
Kregorim took a sip of tea, letting a moment pass, then another. “I take it that you wish my opinion regarding possible further developments?” he finally asked. ​
“Yes. I can easily produce another full floor of single and double units, functionally identical to the floor directly above us, overnight. Additional fabricators might take another day or so, but I have the raw materials necessary to make them.” ​
“What alternatives do you propose?” ​
I animated the avatar arching an eyebrow. “At this point, the options include a restaurant and a tavern,” I began, then smirked. “I can set up something resembling a small brewery using the ingredients I've been able to cultivate from the vicinity. Though with the stock of raw materials I know I can access, by tomorrow's dawn you can introduce the Lignignories and their...” I swallowed, unwilling to utter either 'stock' or 'slaves' in reference to that poor group. “... Their servants to one new facility just adjacent to the ground-floor lounge-area. What are your opinions on that facility being a gymnasium to build up their bodies, a spa to refresh them, or what my people call a medical clinic...?” ​
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First/Previous
The knife slid across the old man’s face, caught in the cheekbone—I jammed my body weight into the blade to force it—the knife glided into Harold’s eye, and he did not stir too much in his bed; a single energetic spasm came over his legs while he gargled on spit and then he was nothing. I yanked the knife free and wiped it against my pant leg and the new corpse lay still there in his bed.
The underground was quiet, dark in corners save the electric overhead lights, and the room was small; it had been no great task to sneak into the underground through the backways of the hall of Bosses; even with the greater paranoia that had caused them to better equip their guards.
By his bedside was a bottle, half finished; I uncorked the thing, took a sniff and then a drink and sat on the bed by the dead man’s legs. The room was nothing extravagant, but it was quieter, safer than anything on the surface. The metal walls were worn from time, but thick and hard. Over a vanity across the room sat a mirror and I caught myself in it; a wild man, half melted and missing an ear, stared back at me. Some revenant.
There’s a fact to humans: there is a delirious amount of cruelty that can be derived from a mass of us, but one on one, a person does not want to die—they do not want to kill either. If a person can flip that switch in their brain, if a person can kill without hesitation, even when skill is accounted for, the willpower to do awful often trumps all else. John taught me that.
Moving quietly to the door, I peeked into the hallway, scanned left and right, and saw no one in either direction. The overhead lights had a nauseating effect and buzzed. I cast a glance back to the corpse on the bed—a dark radius formed on the pillow where the head lay and I ducked into the hallway, shutting the door closed behind me.
I was reminded of the psalm: They surrounded me on every side, but in the name of the Lord, I cut them down. I didn’t know about any of that; if there was any great plan, I wasn’t privy to it, and that was probably the point anyway. It was a compulsion to do right for all the wrongs I’d committed—though revenge was a factor, I imagine that I’d gotten it in my head that it was right to murder the men that ran Golgotha. Dave would’ve wanted it done. Gemma tried to kill her father and I finished that much for her. Andrew was kinder, but sometimes (maybe) violence could be done in the name of those that abhorred it.
What would Sibylle have done? I know.
I stalked down the hallway; Harold’s chambers were directly off a larder and beyond that were the sleeping quarters of servants—there wasn’t a guide or a map and I’d never been invited to tour the place. I pushed through the stark and labyrinthine hallways. The metal walls shone dull in the light, worn from centuries of people brushing against them—the floors too were worn thinner center line. COI emblems, plain and stocky fonts were stamped into the metal in places where one section met the next and though the lettering was thinned, it was unmistakable.
I pushed deeper, further from Harold’s room, further from the kitchen and the entrance and the sleeping servants, and the air grew thicker and hotter like I delved into the depths of a creature’s stomach.
The lights flickered and I kept to one side of the hall on the chance that I happened by some passerby; I could bolt or position the wall to my back. That song the flutist played in the tower square came back to me and I recalled the song was played when I was quite young. It’d been a tune Tandy the foreigner had played, and I refused the impulse to hum the tune to myself in that quiet hall and kept my eyes ahead. From an intersection of halls, I watched someone pass from left to right and I froze and waited and listened and when no alarm sounded, I went on and peered around the intersection’s corner to see the back of some person disappear around yet another corner, a servant most likely. Possibly a guard. It happened so quickly that certainty was impossible.
Murdering Harold was easy enough, but taking the life of a half-dead geezer wasn’t anything to brag on. Maron would not be so easy; even with his disease, would I find it so easy to put a mark on him? And why Maron? I could leave him to rot with the skitterbugs. It would likely be death. No, I had to be sure. I had to see life leave him and know it was done.
My steps came with a more profound purpose than ever before and though I moved quickly, quietly, I felt no hesitation.
With some trial and error, I found the sleeping quarters of Brash and upon pushing in through the door, I saw a light was on in the room and stopped there in the doorway for a moment; the form on the bed remained still. I went through and shut the door closed and watched the sleeping man and briefly thought of sparing him, but the fact of the matter was that if any of them had a shred of moral fiber, they would have left Golgotha or they would have given up their positions or led the place with a modicum of virtue; what of Lady? Lady had done great evil too. Was the evil done to her in return enough? She’d lost her mind. There in the bed slept a man without a conscious and I took the knife to him just as I had his brother and with the overhead light on, I saw his left eye open in a millisecond of bewilderment as the blade entered his brain through the right socket. Something strange happened with this man, he grabbed onto my arm, seemed to whisper something, and even once he passed on, his hands remained clamped to my forearm like the muscles had been locked there.
I shrugged the dead man off and exited into the hall. It shouldn’t have been so easy. Two brothers. If I’d had the want to, it should’ve been done long before.
Bloodlust is something spoken of, but something I cannot sympathize with—I’m sure it exists as I’ve seen it, but all I felt was total numbness.
I came upon a guard in the hall; it happened so quickly as I rounded a corner that we immediately grappled with one another. He, being larger and more agile, easily put me against the wall and held a forearm to my neck; the guard pummeled into my abdomen with his free hand and did so with such force that I went weak and breathless. The knife I’d carried clattered to the floor and amid my gasps, he furiously printed his knuckles along my ribs. I lost my legs, and he came after me; blindly I kicked and felt my right foot connect with something. He groaned and I blinked away the tears that’d gathered in my eyes—the man cupped his hands between his legs. Without conscious command, my hands scrambled along the floor in search of what I’d lost and glimpsing victory, I took the knife in both hands and pushed upward viciously just as the man gathered himself for another assault. He fell onto the knife and there, faces so close that we could kiss, I recognized the guard. It was the chaperone from earlier. It was the wall man that had allowed me freedom on that night of the riots. If he’d killed me all that time ago, he wouldn’t have been there on my knife.
He said nothing, but his eyes spoke of surprise and terror.
I shook him off and he casually took to sitting where the wall met the floor, holding the wound beneath his sternum. He tilted his head back as though to scream and I quickly stumbled to land the knife in his throat; blood hissed then pumped from around his collar and he put his hand to his fatal wound slowly, catching it without stopping the flow. The young man—he was so young—blinked deliriously and watched me as I stood over him like the foul creature I was.
My silent pace intensified. Blood was all over me. The willpower to do awful often trumps all else. Could a person do awful things in the pursuit of goodness? Was it possible? Heroes don’t talk about blood too much. There’s nothing in those tales about watching a man die like that. A man that knew nothing beyond what was presented. There was a time and a place where that young man might have been anything. The wall men might’ve been complicit, but there was no justification I’d use to comfort myself. There I was, covered in that man’s blood, a knife wielding maniac in an underground bunker on the hunt for something. What was I hunting? Was it a tale of retribution or was it a stubborn hope?
The left side of my torso burned in pain from the altercation, and I pressed along the wall as I moved for support and kept my breathing as quiet as I could. Maron had to die. That was all there was to it.
Even if I died, I had to correct the mistakes of my past. How could I sit there at the end of it all and take judgement? It had to be done.
The halls erupted with a mechanical siren-like screech and I ducked into the nearest room—it was a dark storage closet. Composing myself, the sounds of boots thudded around just outside of the room, I listened hard, and while the footsteps receded, I held onto the knife with a death grip in total preparation to launch myself in the direction of any poor soul that poured through the door.
The walls in the closet were lined with shelves of miscellaneous things: chemical cleaners, brooms, rags. I propped myself against an empty wall and watched the door and tried again to listen—no foot thuds, but there was the sound of the alarm. It drowned out anything else so if there was anyone nearby, I couldn’t be certain of their location anyway. I went from the closet and moved quickly; I’d hoped to find Maron’s room long before triggering any alarms—surely, he’d already be off and commanding some group of wall men in search of the intruder.
Was it one of the Bosses they’d found, or had it been the guard? Probably the guard. Maybe they wouldn’t find the Bosses for some time. Ahead, at another intersection, a group of men trundled across the halls, and I lowered myself into a crouch but none of them spied me in their peripheral as their focus seemed ahead of them. The halls were madness, and I felt the sweat well up around my collar and I expected a gunshot to take me out in a moment. That would be the end of the journey for me! I’d catch a bullet from somewhere unknown and then bleed to death on the floor of the underground—maybe they’d erect my corpse over the wall or crucify me.
The underground’s layout became a series of hopeful guesses; each turn was like that. Push on straight? Left? Right? Who knew?
My ribs ached.
The lights of the underground shut off and I was momentarily frozen like an idiot, staring into the blackness like the blind.
I stumbled forward, and I latched onto the wall by my right side and followed it by touch alone. The smell of gunpowder met me and perhaps it was only then that I noticed the scent; the underground was the place where they manufactured munitions and stored them too. How large of a dent had Dave put into their operation? I had hoped that whatever charge he’d managed would have put the Bosses out of commission for good; I knew that wasn’t the case, but maybe their production had been severely hampered. I’d seen it for years; the laborers trolleying crates of ammo out for the wall men from the recesses of the hall—everyone knew, but very few had any hand in the production of Golgotha’s ammo. The smell, as pungent as it was in the darkness of the underground, reminded me greatly of my childhood and of how I’d learned to fire a gun with John—Jackson tried to help, but he wasn’t good with violence and so had given up any thought of it (it almost always made him ill). I recalled Sibylle and how she nodded approvingly at me on the range alongside all the others which practiced in the shotgun infantry. In that underground darkness I shook the memories away and the more recent predicaments of life came to the forefront. As much as gunpowder smelled like childhood, it smelled like death too and I kept waiting for the sound that seemed a permanent accompaniment to gunpowder: screams. In that bastardly darkness, the sirens sounded like the cries of death, and I pushed on and on.
The blood on my hands from the guard which began to dry to me, became gummy and I continuously brushed my palms down my pants. In a moment, I stopped in the dark hallway, open space in front and behind alike and I froze there, went to my knees and it was there that I felt the most like the worthless old man that I was. What had my life come to? It would have been better if I’d died; if I could have sacrificed myself to bring my family back, I would have without a moment of hesitation.
A flashlight leapt from behind and in a startled run, I ran and again found myself in darkness. I prayed in my ragged steps where the metal floors became uneven and though I seemingly received nothing in the darkness, no answered prayers, I found myself praying harder still and I wished that all those years of prayer from before counted for something—prayer is quiet and without answer and that time was the same, but I came up from it, swaggering on unsteady legs with a new outlook. It was the animal outlook, survival—nothing else.
The hallway which I took became even more uneven, more slanted without reason and that is when I came to a stop in the passage—great boulder rubble stood in my way. In reaching the collapsed passage, I pushed against the ramp of rough stones and crimped metal and in time, I understood what I was touching. Dave had destroyed this passage—he’d done well. I went back the way I’d come and took another way and before long, through that wild network, I found more blockages.
The alarms went off and I sat in the dark by the newest cave-in and listened and heard nothing and I breathed easier and whispered wishes into the dark that I could do the one thing that I came for. I had to set things right; it had to be me, because no one else was left to do it.
Between blinks, with it being as dark as it was, I could not even tell when my eyes were open. My whispering came into a full fervor, and I spooked myself with the words, “But he that endures till the end.” I snapped from the prayer.
Harlan, said the thing in the dark, It’s been a long time.
I held my knife out in front of me but did not dare to push into fight—I’d be flailing totally blind. “Who are you?” My voice remained a hush.
You’ve come a long way, but you’re no wiser than when I found you the first time.
“You?”
It’s me. There was a long pause and while the creature did so, I shimmied myself further up the wall to stand, kicking the rubble at my feet from the cave-in. It was not so much a presence in the same way that a person stands before another in the darkness, it was something different; it was all around, and the voice spoke from all places. You’ve come so far, but I wonder if you know what it was that you traded for that day. I squirmed away from the words; they felt totally accusatory. The voice laughed; I felt a hand touch me there in the darkness, but I didn’t fight it. The veil between life and death is thin. When one is passing through it, it’s hardly more solid than that—or maybe when someone is directly there on the cusp between. I brought him back to you. You loved your little brother more than anything, of course. It’s natural for you.
“So?”
So? You mean to destroy the gift? You mean to sever the connection I reconnected? It meant a lot to you that day. What’s changed?
“You brought him back wrong.” The air all around me was ice cold. Mephisto—certainly that was the demon I was dealing with in that black underground—did not have the jovial style with which I remembered him by.
Hm? I brought him back to you just as he was. But I think you should question that day, Harlan—when the veil is as thin as it was, it is difficult to see which side you’re on.
“Quit your tricks!” I hissed.
No. No tricks. Not intentionally. Not from me. There are jinn and demons that utilize tricks like what you imply, but not me. Every time that you have been there on the edge of it, every time that you have casually thrown your life into turmoil, our deal has held steady. Why is it that you’re able to walk among my kind? Think. You are feeble and weak. You should be dead. Without me, surely you would be. Again, I will say: the veil was thin. You wanted me to bring one person back to you—the person you loved most. The one person you loved that did not die that day.
“What?”
You didn’t see his body? Right? Harlan, you were on your way to the other side when I found you—everyone was waiting for you there. Everyone but your dear brother. He was on this side. I brought him to you. Boy, you are a boy still it seems, you were half dead when I found you there in that pit of stinking corpses. I brought you back. No one else.
“No. Bi-Maron’s all wrong. You!” My voice grew embittered, “You brought him back wrong! It’s your fault!”
The voice, all around, sighed and it felt like my head might explode from the exhale. The demon’s hand squeezed my shirt and pulled me close to it—I felt the wet off its breath though I could not see him. You loved him as a boy. Men grow and change. Blame the world or blame his soul but stop blaming me for what he is. He is as he chooses—the same as you. I smell the blood on your hands even now. If a man does evil, a demon must be blamed—is that your thinking?
I swallowed, pressed my back hard into the wall which I leveled myself against. “Why now? Why’d you tell me now?” It was impossible—I caught my words frozen; everything was frozen—I couldn’t even breathe. A finger thumped me in the dark, directly across my forehead.
It’s funny. The hand left me.
“What if you’re lying?” I asked.
A pause followed and then I faintly heard, Meh, trail down the hall and then I was certain I was alone again.
Man, or no, Maron needed to die; I pushed off the wall and trundled into the labyrinth again, leaving the cave-in and Mephisto—his words—remained.
In the quiet, without the sirens, without the bells, I was able to more clearly hear whenever someone was coming in the dark and I made a routine of stowing into the nearest room whenever I was forced to; the search was still on for the intruder—me. They came, jack boots stomping madly, and I would hear them come and go on and finally, the lights came alight, and it was no longer that I watched the passing guards go in the dark with their beams of light or their lanterns and more than anything, I hoped to find the exit—what then? It would be guarded, surely. I’d hoped to do in Maron in silence, much as I had with the others, but I knew that if I saw that man, even if it meant my own demise, he would meet me on the other side without much waiting. Then we’d both burn in hell.
The expression of surprise on his face that I imagined kept me on and perhaps that was bloodlust. Perhaps I did feel it then.
I came to an overlooking hallway and stepped quietly in hopes that my own feet would not rattle off the metal hall in the same way the wall men’s boots did. The narrow passage was suspended over a larger open chamber and to the right was a line of thin tall apertures where I could see lines of machining tables arranged beneath where I stood; mixed in by the machining tables were reloading benches and barrel drums and the surfaces were coated thinly in potassium nitrate—the place was empty of workers. Within the chamber, along the furthest wall was a wider passage which led deeper into the earth by way of concrete stairs and along its broad arch there were webbing cracks and I thought again of Dave; moving along the suspended passage, I felt the things—rods or stilts—which held the hall over the chamber protest and they gave off a metal groan while I furthered through and again I was in solid ground where I was certain there was dirt all around me.
To the right was a stairwell which spiraled down, and I quickly surmised it led down to that large production room; lickity split, I moved from it and took my chances on the current level. Moving deeper was not on the docket. In that wild push through the twisting underground—a facility which must’ve easily matched Golgotha above—I felt surrounded, not only by the earth, but by whatever dark presence might lurk there. Any person that found comfort there couldn’t be wholly a person.
Of course, I was hell spawn; I stopped in the hallway, looked back then forward, and continued.
I wished I’d taken the shotgun, but I’d incorrectly assumed that stealth would be the greatest weapon.
The underground winded for an hour or less and though I retraced myself more than I’d have hoped, I came to a set of ascending stairs and took them; no one saw me, and I saw no one. Perhaps it would be an easy thing to sneak directly out of the hall of Bosses—if they’d removed the full force of the facility then I could be hopeful; I recalled the intricate metalwork of the entrance and upon coming to the big door, I pushed through and found myself in the basement of the hall and there was no one present. The sound of feet overhead was distressed, and I cramped low and ascended further from the basement—a damp earthen room with metal beaming and low light.
I remained surprised at the lax nature of their pursuit until I found myself in the concrete hall which led to the kitchens; it had been the way I’d gained entry. Through the windows, I saw it was still night-dark out and I tip-toed swiftly through the kitchen and I heard the shouting which came from the next room over. I rounded the counters, absently examined the pots and pans and stoves and found the door which led to the great room where the Bosses gathered to convene or dine and through a crack I gambled to spy, and witnessed through the crack that the big table had been pushed to the far side of the room and that the remaining Bosses with their wall men had gathered the servants in that big room; each servant—twenty in total—was on the floor in two lines and stripped of clothing. The poor sods kneeled while they kept their eyes averted to the place between their knees and Maron was there and so was Frank and Paul and Matt.
Boss Harold—I thought of the man and stiffly imagined how Gemma would respond if I told her I finished her father; would she thank me or would she be angry with me? While watching the Bosses lord over the subordinates, I surmised to never tell. Let her believe she did the job.
The big chamber was lit with the lights along the wall and the flames of those lights wavered in a macabre way that distorted the shadows cast on the expressionless faces of those that knelt.
Maron took a ball-peen hammer which was handed to him from one of the wall men and began walking the line of servants; they flinched at the tap of his boot as it passed them. Boss Maron had his cowboy hat flicked back on his head, so the lines of his forehead shone. Without warming, he planted the hammer into the skull of a servant—a woman with a shaved head—and when he pried the hammer free from the servant’s head, it left a coin-sized hole there and she spasmed, reaching out with both hands to grab onto Maron’s pantleg; he kicked the hand away and no one gasped or said much beyond the grumble of the wall men which flanked the Bosses.
“Where’s the one that did it?” Maron commanded over the lowered heads.
No one said anything; no one knew anything. Maron dropped the hammer and it landed with a thud. Even in the lowlight, the viscera there on the weapon shone. Maron shouted without saying anything, kicked the ribs of a young man there on the floor; the injury shriveled him like a bug while he held his sides. The woman with a hole in her head continued to seize. I wanted to burst through the door, I wanted to strangle the Bosses, I wanted to scream in the faces of those they perpetrated against and ask them why they allowed it. I willed myself against it, left the crack and pushed through the backdoor of the kitchens and disappeared into the dark alleys.
Rounding the hall were wall men, decked in fatigues with slung rifles, but whether by Mephisto or the luck of God, I was able to creep around the hall, taking to poorly constructed stalls or crates or low sandbags.
While moving, creeping the way that I was, my left knee began to throb in protest. Only once I’d disappeared into the bustle of Gologtha did I stop to massage my aching joint. I found a place beneath the overhang of catwalks which connected apartments. The pain went from a pulse to a full excruciating stab only once I’d removed my weight from it. I hid in the dark under a catwalk, put myself against the wall of some building, and attempted to overcome it with sheer willpower. It did not work, and I was frozen there, knee locked into its spot while I stared up through the catwalks at the night sky. My sides ached, my leg ached.
A child, a small girl, ran in play with a streamer through the narrow alley and froze upon seeing me sitting in the dark shadows to her left. She crept closer and I muffled my pain long enough to say, “Go away!” She eeped and ran off with the streamer gliding by her shoulder.
“Fuckin’ c’mon,” I slammed a fist against my right leg. “Let’s go! I’ll do it! Just get me there!” I pushed off the wall and I’m sure that if anyone were to have seen me like that, covered in the dried blood of the wall man, muttering to myself, they would have probably turned heel fast. “I’ll do it! Get me there!” I started out limping from the place I’d sat and then I stiffened my left leg and used it more as a peg, so my walking took on a stilted gait.
I passed the open circle of the hydro towers and saw the low lights of the city and knew that the denizens of Golgotha would be in for a terrible awakening. Those that slept in the night would surely come up rudely and those still awake would be lost in the confusion. I marched through town, towards the front gates and kept to the shadows where possible, but if I were to be shot dead, it would not have mattered.
The cracking echo of singular gunfire rang out—I flinched momentarily; certainly they’d started executing those in the hall and I ignored it and felt anger pile on me and I spat and wavered to where the wizard wagon was parked and slung open the rear hatch and withdrew the Browning shotgun—I loaded the object, gathered ammo into my jacket pockets, then sat it leaning against the tire of the wagon while I reached in to grab tobacco and rolled a cigarette and lit it. I smoked and lifted the wizard mask from the compartment and wore it like a visor and looked to the spot beside, where horses were lined; they hardly stirred—some laid with their hooves beneath themselves. I peered back toward the general direction of the hall and slung the shotgun over my shoulder with its strap. Another gunshot rang clearly through the night, and it was my fault. More lights came alive across the black buildings. A few wall men over the gate which led to the wastes angled in the direction of the noise and shouted something after me, but I was only a shadow and disappeared.
Biting the inside of my cheek till I found blood, I headed in the direction of the hall of Bosses.
“I was made in the image of God?” I was in a fit. “I’ll do God’s work. Or won’t it be Mephisto?” I, irritated, pointed to the sky while skulking through town, “Why?” No answer.
The flutist I’d seen the day prior stood in the moonlight by the hydro towers, slanted against Felina’s dead brothel. He played Twinkle Twinkle and paid me no mind as I passed.
The faces of those inflicted with skitterbugs took notice of me—those desperate strangers lying in the street with blackened limbs or half destroyed eyes looked up from their rotting at seeming amazement from my presence. It was the disease. I could not be sure they truly saw me.
Dirt twisted under my footfalls as I came to the foot of the stairs that led to the hall and flanking the front doors were a pair of wall men. They’d be on me like stink on shit.
I staggered up the stairs and they each moved from their position, weapons half-readied, and I lifted the shotgun to the one on the left; the bead lined up with his chest and I squeezed the trigger then pivoted right to aim again.
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Mem-O-Gram file user: Betty Hartwell, US Ambassador to the Venlil Republic
File subject: Classified
Date [standardized human time]: November 15th, 1974
It had been months since the festival. On the surface, the festival had gone off without a hitch. The foundation had been set, the populace appeased, and the Venlil in the area welcomed the humans with open arms before they, too, silently evacuated. I skimmed various news sources for news about a terror attack, but I got nothing. In fact the only result I had from the weirdness at the festival was a curt invitation from Sam, to meet with him to 'discuss relations between our two races.' Scary.
Even though Sam was a friend, he was still governor, so I arrived on time to a small conference room tucked away in the bowels of the UN building. Inside was Sam and a single other Venlil, wearing a Venlil Navy uniform. I caught the tail end of an argument as I opened the door.
"-bad idea, Sam. She'll definitely report this to her-"
The Venlil from the Navy stopped as I entered the room. "Well, it's a bit too late for that," said Sam drily. "Have a seat, Betty. Please."
With some trepidations, I sat down across from them. Their ears twitched and spasmed; they were nervous. The other Venlil introduced herself as Captain Tarva, Sam’s Navy liaison.
Sam reached over and tapped a box on the table. It beeped, and he sighed. "All right. This conversation is going to be reported, for posterity. I hope you don't mind.
"I've been reaching out to various human ambassadors. You humans are so fragmented. Honestly, it's exhausting." He tried to sound friendly, but he only managed to sound tired.
Not only did Sam look tired, his voice was entirely different from the way he usually spoke. There was no stuttering, none of the high, wheedling voice I thought was kind of endearing about him. Now, Sam sounded… plain. Entirely unassuming. If there were a blank slate for a voice, Sam’s was it.
Sam cleared his throat.
"Okay. I'll get down to business. See, I'm facing a coup-d'etat. I'm trying to keep it quiet, but at this point the other side is desperate, and they're willing to use open violence at this point. The effects will spill over eventually, and I'd rather you guys are informed when things begin to happen."
I thought for a bit. "Okay, I'm listening. But first off, what's this 'other side'? What do they want"
"Well, they call themselves the Federalists. They align to the ideals of the old Federation. Which include its policy on predator species. They don't really like you lot."
"For good reason," said Tarva. "They're scared of how you'd react. When it comes to predators, our only example to go off on are the Arxur. Not to mention your history shows that you react impulsively to attacks on your territory." She looked guilty as she said it, as if she said something she wasn't supposed to.
"Wait, attacks on our territory? What are you talking about?"
Sam sighed. "Well, we were behind the nuclear attack on Cuba. A ballistic strike, mixed with some unstable isotopes to simulate human atomics. We'd have used real atomics, but, well…" he chuckled humorlessly. "Atomics weren't really a thing for us until you came along."
He'd said it so casually that it took a moment for me to get what he was saying.
“Are… are you serious? You know how bad it was? Everyone was eyeing each other - the whole planet could’ve gone up in flames!”
“Yes,” said Sam. “We were very aware of that.”
It took a moment to understand what Sam was getting at.
“You all are bastards, you know that?”
“Yes. We also are aware of that.” Now Sam’s ear twitched in faint amusement.
“It’s not funny.”
Sam’s ear stopped. “No, it’s not. In fact, as of now it is an existential threat to my race.”
"Existential threat how? That we'd whoop your asses once this gets out to the public?"
"That," said Sam, his voice going flat, "is exactly what the Federalists are worried about. It is precisely why I have evacuated our entire population and frankly, it's why I have warhawks at my doorstep calling for me to incinerate your species from orbit and colonize the remains."
He leaned back in his chair. You couldn't really call what he said an outburst. He was calm the whole way through. Certain. Like he was stating facts.
"I really want to work with you, I really do. But we're going to have to put aside our problems. What we did is a terrible thing, no doubt. But we'll deal with it later. There'll be justice, I promise you. But we have more pressing matters at hand."
He sounded tired. Done with everything. Exasperated. That was Selvim, I realized. I knew him for less than a month, but Sam's predecessor sounded permanently resigned. He had the air of a schoolteacher dealing with his umpteenth class of rowdy troublemakers, and Sam was beginning to show it, too.
"All right," I ventured. Best to be cautious here. "We can figure something out. But first, I need answers. People have reasons for what they do, so it'd be better to figure out the reasons."
"Okay. Funny. Andrei said much the same thing." Sam leaned forward and pulled out his tablet. "Okay. Cuba was technically Selvim's orders. Not that I'm trying to worm out of anything, but Selvim intended it as kind of a test. He originally wanted to incinerate the planet, but he'd been reading into your history and," he coughed, "began to empathize. He thought if he made one strike, at a contentious point in your history, and you conformed to the Federation theory of how predators acted, you'd destroy yourselves, and Selvim could move on without guilt."
"But we didn't destroy ourselves."
"Right. Selvim ended up with more than he bargained for with you. He was shocked that you survived, and scrambled to prepare for your inevitable entry into galactic politics."
"People said he was going to turn you into an army to overthrow the Federation," interjected Tarva.
"As I was saying…" Sam threw an ear-flick of annoyance at Tarva. "I think at this point he realized that you weren't… well, monsters. He wanted to integrate you as a civilization. To be more open-minded towards predators. After all, if you can pull together after an attack of that magnitude, maybe you wouldn't kill everyone the moment you discovered FTL spaceflight. No offense."
"None taken," I sighed, even though I very much did take offense. "But what does this have to do with what's happening right now?"
"Well, Selvim's a very popular figure among the Venlil. War hero, advocated Venlil autonomy, butted heads with the Federation a lot. People liked him. But this stance on predators was a bit too much. We split into two factions regarding you. The Federalists, obviously, and the Progressives, who follow Selvim's views on you."
"So like human political parties."
"Not so. The two factions actually agree on a lot of things. In terms of domestic policy the two are identical. The contention point," emphasized Sam, "is how we should treat you. Should we open our cities, work together, let hunters into the herd? Or do we do what we've done up until now, which is to exterminate everything and carry on, safe but ignorant? I'm quite sure which one you'd prefer."
"Obviously."
"Yes… well, the problem is that even though the two agree on everything else, this one problem is a very big problem. Big enough that each side genuinely believes that the other side is dooming the Venlil to extinction."
Sam rubbed his eyes. "They're pressuring me from both sides. Especially the Federalists. I appeased them a bit by stationing fleets so that we could deal with you in case you turned on us-"
"Excuse me?"
"-Yes, yes, I know. All the ships I selected are staffed by Progressives. They won't lift a paw against you. But anyway, the Federalists are now demanding I use those fleets. And radical factions in the Navy are threatening me, saying that if I won't solve 'the human problem' the way they want, they'll do it themselves."
“But that’d mean all-out war,” I protested. “Not to mention that a first strike makes them look bad. They’d lose popular support.”
“You’d think that,” sighed Sam, “because you believe yourself to be a thinking, rational being, worthy of rights and protection of law. The Federalists don’t see humans that way. But you are right on one count: most Venlil do see humans as thinking, rational beings, at least on some level. Any attack by the Federalists would cost them their popular support.
“Which is why I anticipate some kind of false-flag attack to happen within the next few weeks. Human terrorists, or human radicals, or some kind of human splinter cell will make their move on a Venlil asset. The Federalists will seize the opportunity to force me to act against you, or depose me if I show hesitation. Whatever happens, there will be reprisals against the human population. Justified or not, it will happen."
"But we wouldn't do that. None of us have any problems with the Venlil. You're jumping at shadows."
"Are we? There are radical communities of humans, you know. The terrorist cell we took out during the festival, for one. A few radical networks are operating in the Balkans. Your congress seems divided on the issue, and 'Earth for the humans' is a substantially popular opinion."
"But those opinions are in the minority; they can't do anything. Most of us support you."
"The fact that there exists a minority at all is alarming to us."
I tried very hard to keep down the urge to scream. "Okay. Fine. But what do you expect us to do about it?"
Tarva piped up. "You have large numbers of emergency bunkers all over the planet, which we assume were to be used in the event of atomic warfare. We can discreetly expand these shelters, turn them into cities for your people to live in. On the surface, we will create simulations of civilians to create the illusion that things are progressing as normal. When the false-flag happens, Sam will give in and 'attack' human settlements, while you live on in secret. Everyone lives and everyone is happy."
I could already see the flaws in the plan. "And what, are we just going to live in the bunkers forever then?"
Tarva looked embarrassed and Sam leapt to her defense. "Considering we've only had a week to draft this plan up, it's the best we've got given the time frame. And it would only be until I can deradicalize the populace and get them to accept you."
"I, erm, don't think that's going to happen. We humans would all be dead, right? If we emerged you'd have a lot of explaining to do. And generally, I've found that lying about something always makes more trouble down the road."
"Hm. If you have a better plan, we'd be happy to hear it."
Well, as it happened, I did. "We'll boost security on our ships, check our crew for anything weird, and make sure that the weapon systems require more than just a few people to fire. That way, even if a group of radicals got control of a ship, they wouldn't be able to do anything with it."
There was a disbelieving pause.
"That's it?" Sam sounded incredulous.
"That's it."
"You do realize this is only a temporary solution."
"Well, so is yours! And your plan cleans up after everything happens. Wouldn't that mean people would die?"
Sam's face hardened. "We have to accept that casualties are inevitable."
"What the heck? I mean wouldn't it be better to just make sure nobody dies?"
It wasn't Sam that answered, but Tarva.
"Unfortunately, in my line of work I've learned that trying to save everybody ends with you saving nobody. It's… like making an omelette. You have to crack eggs."
"Well, there is a way: Safety protocols! They've prevented lots of crises. I just think it's better to solve the problem before it becomes a problem, you know?"
Sam rubbed his nose. "Well, I'm only surprised because we already have security protocols. But the Federalists are everywhere. We have to assume that they are compromised."
"So we just use our own. I'm sure two layers of protocols makes it that much harder to override a ship."
Sam looked uneasy. "I'm not sure we're ready to allow human protocols onto our ships."
"Well, it's going to be entirely separate. And only for joint ships crewed by both of us. After all, if it's a false flag attack, it wouldn't make sense to use a fully Venlil ship, right? Not to mention that with both of our protocols in place, it'd require cooperation between crew to work. We'd integrate much better."
Sam seemed to consider it. "You know what? Sure. I can see it working. And it doesn't harm us Venlil. Why not?"
I smiled. "You know, you guys are mighty shady, and you gotta work on that. We gotta work on that. But this? This is a start."
We shook hands.
"I'll go talk with my buddies in the UN. We'll get our security protocols up and running in no time." I left out the fact that we'd be doing this so fast because we were only expanding protocols we'd already set up so maniacs wouldn't be able to kick-start armageddon."
"And we'll work on things from our end as well." Sam looked guilty. "And, erm, sorry for everything. We'll try to, erm, do better on this whole diplomacy thing in the future."
I could tell it was killing him, and for a moment I saw the nervous, stuttering alcoholic governor I knew from before.
I sighed. "Well, we have a long, long way to go. But we'll do it."
Sam nodded. "We'll do it."
…
Declassified Document
To: Governor Sam of the Venlil Republic
Venlil Republic: Ministry of Internal Affairs
Date [standardized human time] November 30th, 1974
Sam,
The committee you've put together has concluded their investigation. Attached is a full report of the incident, as reconstructed by survivors' accounts as well as every forensic technique we have at our disposal.
The summary is thus: The USS Maine was, as you know, a joint project, built and staffed by both humans and Venlil, but her crew were majority human. She served with UN SCSG-3 as an escort, and at the time of the incident was refueling with her fleet at Venlil station Habitat 03, a logistics hub for our operations.
On [November 21st, 1974] at [22:00] standard time, the USS Maine received a coded request that activated Contingency 7, which assumes that the ship's crew is dead or incapacitated and that the ship cannot be piloted from the bridge. Designed to get an evacuated or empty ship to tow itself to safety for repair or salvage, the contingency systems bypassed the Maine's onboard controls and remotely steered the ship into Habitat 03.
Safety systems deployed as designed, and emergency response was swift, having been mobilized prior to the incident as per your order. However, the collision heavily damaged the main hangar and violently depressurized a third of the station.
Exactly ten minutes after the collision, the Maine received another request from the Admiralty, to activate Contingency 9. Contingency 9 is designed to trigger a reactor bloom to deny the ship and its crew from falling into enemy (specifically Arxur) hands.
However, surveillance records and system logs show that three reactor technicians, following emergency protocols, attempted to scram the reactor following the collision. They managed to deactivate most of it before the request was sent, resulting in a partial bloom that failed to breach the reactor room shell. The three technicians prevented a disastrous explosion at the cost of their lives. Their sacrifice allowed us to recover the Maine intact, as well as her system logs, which was how we acquired the prior information.
On [November 25th, 1974], Ministry agents completed their scan of the Maine's logs. A following scan of Venlil Navy HQ's correspondence logs implicated the Home Fleet's Admiral Banlek as responsible for the incident. Ministry agents arrested him on the same date at [20:00]. 25 of his accomplices have been detained, but we estimate more to be at large. A compilation of their private logs has been attached.
Ministry agents have also reported surreptitious fleet movements and I have attached coordinates for suspected rally points. My guess is that rogue elements of the Navy are on the move. I recommend rallying the fleets now, Sam. The Ministry can reach very far, but we can only do so much. This is threatening to spill over into open warfare; best to alert the humans, too.
Note: Venlil contingencies are remote orders direct from HQ. They'd override the new UN security protocols, which are designed to prevent radicals on board the ship from taking control. We need to tighten these protocols to include HQ orders now.
Total casualties are estimated in the thousands.
I've given the following my personal recommendation for the Heroic Conduct Medal, 1st Class:
ETN Michael Morgan
ETN James Brown
LTJG Alvin Oak
Sincerely,
Kam
Commissioner, Ministry of Internal Affairs

Hope this posts right, trying to from my phone because I'm out of town. Fyi, will score Saturday's round Monday or Tuesday after I get back.
Current Standings: Scoreboard
Match Details: MLS Match Center
Chicago Fire FC (11 pts, 14th East; Form: D-L-L-L-L)
vs
Orlando City SC (16 pts, 10th East; Form: L-W-D-W-L)
At Soldier Field
Rules:
Simply make a few predictions, earn some points, and most points wins.

• Predictions must be in 2 hours before match time.
• User with the most points can choose the bonus question for the next match!
  • In the event of a tie, I will do a simple RNG to pick the winner
  • For upcoming weeks with more than 1 game, the top two will be selected to provide bonus questions (1st for next, 2nd for the game after)
• Please do your best to include first initial. In the event that there are players with the same last name, I will not make any assumptions and you will get no points (such as roster or goal scorer)

Scoring:

10 Pts - Correctly predict score line/outcome (i.e. Fire 2:Crew 0 - Scoreline is each teams final score. It's ok if you don't include the team in your answer, I will assume based on your selection for winner.)
5 Pts - Correctly predict winner (or draw)
3 Pts - Correctly predict goal scorer (3 pts per goal; identify if single player scores more than once)
5 Pt - Correctly predict total number of cards (Yellow and Red for both teams combined)
1 Pt - Correctly predict the Fire Starting XI (1 pt per player)

The 10 point bonus courtesy of u/Fly_Ghost4 ) - Will Fire Finish the Frank? (5 or more corner kicks).
How to Play:
To make it easy for me, tap the "T", select Markdown Mode and paste the following:

* **Score**: * **Winner**: * **Goals**: * **Cards**: * **cf97 XI**: * **Bonus**: 

or at least just copy/paste this format!

• Score:
• Winner:
• Goals:
• Cards:
• cf97 starting XI:
• Bonus:

Final Prize - Still pending

Hello!
I have Circuit Tracks, Access Virus B and Beringer mixer.
I'm trying to set Virus B to work in Multi Mode, current setup is following:

1. Circuit Tracks MIDI 1 tracks goes to MIDI channel 3 on Virus (Multi mode part 1). Output of this Virus part goes to mixer (not Circuit Tracks audio in!).
2. Circuit Tracks MIDI 2 tracks goes to MIDI channel 4 on Virus (Multi mode part 2). Output of this Virus part goes to Circuit Tracks audio in 2.

For MIDI track 1 everything works well - Virus receives notes and output audio to mixer.
For MIDI track 2 strange behaviour happens and I cannot get what is wrong here:

• On Virus display I see that Part 2 receives MIDI events on correct MIDI Channel when I tap Pads on Cirtuit Tracks
• There is no audio output for Part 2 while I am pretty sure i should hear it.

While I tried to verify different possible issues I checked:

1. If Circuit Tracks is configured to use another (incorrect) MIDI channel then Virus shows another icon, so I pretty sure that MIDI channel is correct.
2. All outputs from Virus is working well and issue is not related to Virus output (tried to route its Part 2 to Mixer instead of Circuit Audio In)
3. It does no related to any MIDI channel - All possible MIDI channels works well when configured on Circuit Tracks MIDI 1
4. It also does not related to Part 2 itself on Virus - if I switch MIDI channels between Part 1 and Part 2, I hear Part 2 when tap on Pads for Circuit MIDI 1.
5. On Virus this Part 2 is enabled and other setting are the same as on Part 1 (so I suppose there is no Volume=0 stupid mistakes or somethins like this)

So it seems like something wrong is happening for MIDI track 2 on Circuit (have no other ideas) like it sends MIDI events but not Notes or something like this.
Could anyone please help to figure out what is wrong with it?

Since there seems to be no place to review them I figured I'd post this for anyone looking for info on it. You pay $10 to get in and for that you get a drink ticket and unlimited playtime until close. Their drink selection was rather limited, some liquor with mixers, Modelo, Pabst, and Miller High Life (all short cans). The beer was $5. They also had alcoholic seltzers.
As for the games; they have a handful of original arcade cabinets like donkey kong, frogger, as well as some racing arcade games. They also have several of the newer emulation cabinets of games like Terminator and NBA Jam. I would say in total it was something like 15 total arcade cabinets. They also have tvs with emulator consoles like sega, playstation and super nintendo loaded up with lots of games. I hear they plan on getting a couple pinball tables so that would be exciting.
Overall I'm interested to see where they go with this. When I heard the $10 cover thing I was a bit put off but there were some positives: it wasn't very crowded and you got a drink ticket which made it more like $5 for unlimited play.
Things I think would make it much more enjoyable and may or may not be on the horizon:

• Bigger drink selection. You already have a cooler built in behind the serving area, it would not be terribly hard to get 4 or 5 beers on tap with the existing system. Not even having an ipa was a bit of a shock to me but this is like week one or two so I imagine things are going to change.
  
• Pinball. Personally, when I think of a barcade I immediately just want to play like 10 different pinball tables. The problem is that when you have unlimited play you're going to get people sitting at those tables for hours because that's just how pinball goes.
  
• Personally I don't mind the emulator cabinets but there is a little bit of cheapness to them. If the business model is to continue doing the unlimited play I don't have any issue because they're cheap enough to replace if they get broken and aren't high maintenance because they're mostly just a cheap computer inside.
  
• They desperately need to build in somewhere to set your drinks. Everyone around me was setting their drinks on the slanted area with the joysticks and buttons which is a recipe for electrical disaster. Most of the barcades I've been to have little drink baskets hanging off the machines which solves this.
  

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Part 1
I woke up the next morning with a bit of a headache. Groaning at the harsh sunlight coming through my window, I blinked the sand out of my eyes. It took me until my vision was clear for me to notice that my bedroom door, which I always made sure to close and lock before I went to sleep, was standing wide open. Like rusted gears starting to grind together, my waking mind slowly began to remember the strange crawling thing in the hallway I had glimpsed just before falling asleep.
I’ve always been a bit paranoid, and this paranoia had only increased after I started living alone. Reaching into my pillowcase, I carefully extracted a pocket knife that I keep hidden there, just in case. I hesitated before getting out of bed. I sat there, listening for a few minutes, trying to hear if there was any sound in my house. I couldn’t tell for certain, there was no way of knowing, but it felt like I could hear a faint wheezing under my bed, as if someone was struggling faintly for breath.
Or trying to stifle laughter.
I’d always had a fear of stepping out of bed. I didn’t like the gap between the floor and the bed frame, it always felt like there was just enough room for someone to hide down there. When I was much younger, sometimes I’d remain confined in bed for hours if I was home alone, afraid that if I stepped my foot upon the ground, I’d feel a clammy hand wrap gnarled fingers around my ankle.
Slowly, very slowly, I looked down over the edge of the bed, knife clutched tight in my sweaty fingers. For a split second I thought I saw a shadow shift, slightly, as though something ever so subtly had skirted out of view. I swallowed, fear making my heart race in my chest. I counted down from 10, but didn’t dare close my eyes. When I reached 1, I leapt out of bed, immediately crouching down and lifting the bed spread, knife raised to strike at whatever was hiding there.
Nothing.
There wasn’t even enough room beneath my bed for anyone to fit; boxes of old childhood toys and knick knacks had filled up all the remaining space down there. Setting the knife down on my bedside table, I rubbed my temples, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself down.
There’s nobody else in the house, Trinity, I thought to myself, you’re just being paranoid.
I felt my stomach growl, and remembered how little I had eaten the previous day. Realizing I’d have to actually go out and buy food before I could feed myself, I sighed and put on some clothes, slipping my car keys and wallet into my jacket pocket.
“Find everything you were looking for today si-,” said the cashier, catching herself mid-word as she looked closer at me, eyes drifting towards my neck and shoulders.
“Just fine, thank you,” I replied, not having any energy to even acknowledge this sort of thing.
The cashier just nodded and started scanning my groceries, mercifully choosing to eschew the usual small talk one expects from such interactions, though I couldn’t help but recall how chatty she had been with the elderly man immediately before me in line.
As I sat there, patiently waiting for her to finish with my items, I yawned a little, peering around my surroundings. I used to work in a grocery store just like this one, years ago. It was one of my very first jobs. It was always remarkable to me how similar chain stores looked on the inside, like they were procedurally generated levels in some video game, the same assets being assembled pseudo-randomly to create familiar spaces. My train of thought was interrupted when my idle gaze fell upon the monitor above the cashier’s head.
Where there ought to be the total I was supposed to pay, or an advertisement, or even just a blank screen, there was something murky, shadowed, slowly coming into focus. It seemed to be brightening, just a little at a time, a still image congealing out of the void of black pixels, long stringy black hair obscuring a face twisted into something almost resembling a smil-
“Alright, that’ll be 67.95.”
I jumped slightly at the cashier’s voice, hoping that she didn’t notice. “Of course, sorry,” I murmured, fumbling for my wallet and grabbing my credit card. The cashier just sighed almost imperceptibly. While I clumsily inserted the card into the chip reader, I looked up at the monitor, simply seeing my purchase’s total and a list of the items that had been scanned.
After being handed my receipt, I thanked the cashier, grabbed my bags and headed out the automatic door. I chanced a glance backwards on my way out, just to see if I could catch a glimpse of the image on the monitor again, but it was still normal. Just an ordinary checkout screen. I shook my head and made my way back to the car.
Maybe it wasn’t the wisest idea to take a night walk, given the odd events of the previous day, but in my defense at this point I was still operating under the assumption that whatever was going on was merely a consequence of stress and paranoia. I didn’t want to believe that I was in any real danger.
I’ve been taking night walks ever since the divorce, mainly to try and work through my fear of the dark. I felt embarrassed being in my mid 20s and still needing to sometimes keep the light on when I went to bed. Frankly I probably would have started taking the walks sooner, but Seth never felt comfortable with me going outside alone after nightfall. To my credit, the walks did genuinely work to quell some of my nyctophobia. I still didn’t exactly feel comfortable in the dark, but it wasn’t nerve wracking anymore.
One of my favorite spots for nocturnal wanderings was somewhere I had perhaps melodramatically christened the “midnight river.” It was a bit of water district infrastructure, an artificial creek of sorts that passed between the vast blocks of identical suburban homes, with gravel maintenance paths on both sides. I wasn’t supposed to be there, to be clear. There was a fence with a sign warning me that trespassers would be prosecuted, but frankly I didn’t really care. In my mind, the purpose of this sort of sign was to prevent people from going there to toss their trash, spray graffiti, and otherwise pollute or clog the waterway. All I was doing was taking a little walk. It may have been against the letter of the law, but in terms of crimes it was a fairly victimless one.
Hopping over the fence was easy enough; it wasn’t exactly tall, and there were plenty of foot and hand holds. After I was over the barrier, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone, tapping the flashlight button. Even though I’d worked through a lot of my fear of darkness, the midnight river still could be somewhat unsettling at times. You see, if you are walking around after dark in the city or suburbs, there is still going to be quite a bit of ambient light, due to streetlamps, advertising billboards, 24 hour convenience stores, etc. The midnight river, however, was nearly entirely pitch black. It was squeezed between lines of suburban homes, with the tall wooden fences of backyards forming walls that enclosed the entire space. The only places for light to get through were the chain link fences at each end of the midnight river, with everything in between being smothered in a blanket of perfect, inky blackness.
It can actually be quite pleasant once you get used to only being able to see a few feet in front of you. The air was filled with the sound of croaking frogs to my immediate right, along with the gentle babbling of flowing water. This mixed with the crunching of gravel underfoot into a soothing melange of ambient noise.
The walk along the midnight river isn’t especially long, maybe 15 minutes at most. I think it must have been about 5 minutes into my short journey that I heard the echo. It was subtle, difficult to notice, but once I had realized it was there, I was unable to ignore it; about a quarter second after each of my footsteps, I would hear another footstep from somewhere behind me.
I didn’t dare pause to turn around, though I desperately wanted to. I worried that if I stopped moving, whatever was hiding in my footsteps would realize I’d caught onto its presence and attack me. My mind was racing, trying to think of what the source of the sound could be. Mountain lions sometimes come down from the hills and wander into the suburbs, I thought to myself in a panic, or maybe it’s some maniac looking for an easy victim. My neck itched with the desire to turn and look at my pursuer, my free hand reaching down automatically to grip the handle of my pocket knife.
This continued for quite some time, the footsteps slowly but surely seeming to get ever so slightly closer. It was clear that even though my pursuer was matching my pace, they must have had a slightly longer stride, allowing them to gradually gain on me. I had to think of something, but every possible method of self defense seemed somehow insufficient, like bows and arrows against the lightning. I felt weak, small, and vulnerable. Without any ability to gain information about whoever or whatever was following me, my mind jumped to the worst possible conclusions to fill the gaps in perception.
Eventually I could see light at the end of the river, shining from a streetlamp through the gaps in the chain link fence.
I realized that I was going to have to climb the fence in order to get out.
It must have been about 50 yards away when I decided to start running. Not wanting to give my pursuer any warning I just stuffed my phone in my pocket and began sprinting as fast as I could possibly manage. My muscles burned with the strain and my lungs felt as though they were being pierced with needles, but fear motivated me to run faster than any medal or trophy ever could. As I ran, I could hear the crunch of gravel underfoot behind me, no longer trying to match my footsteps, simply moving as fast as possible to reach me.
I almost collided head first with the fence, but somehow managed to get a foothold and start climbing, as though genetic memories of ascending trees in the jungle to escape some predatory beast had been unearthed in order to assure my survival. Within seconds, I was out of the midnight river and standing on the sidewalk, beneath the blazing light of a streetlamp. I fumbled for my pocket knife and opened it, getting into something vaguely resembling a defensive position as I turned to face the one possible place from which my hunter could try to reach me.
And there was, indeed, something there, in the dark. A dark figure, just barely discernible at the edge of the streetlamp’s light. It took a slightly hesitant step forward, coming so, so close to being fully visible, but stopped before the light could touch it. I looked up at where I thought its face must be, and I could feel it looking back at me, studying me. Then, it simply turned around and began to walk slowly away, back into the blackness, gravel crunching beneath its feet. I could hear it whistling softly as it faded into the shadows.
<sup>Postscript
As promised; the second document, or “stage” as Trinity refers to it. Once again, the mundane details of Trinity’s life do seem to be accurately reflected within the document. I myself have actually walked with her in the past by what she calls the “midnight river,” though I have only ever done so during daylight.
Thus far, I am unable to determine Trinity’s intentions with writing this narrative. While I wouldn’t necessarily describe her as being entirely mentally healthy, especially given the somewhat traumatic details of her former marriage, she never seemed prone to hallucinations or flights of fancy. And yet, she hardly seems like the sort to write all this out as some sort of hoax.
I hope that the subsequent “stages” shine some light as to what exactly is going on.
- Helen Theodora Waite</sup>

I was getting ready to sleep when I received the call. It was from a No Caller ID.
I sat there at the edge of the bed, phone to my ear. "Hello?"
I could hear someone clearing their throat from the other end of the line. And then a deep, formal voice piped up. "Good evening. Am I speaking to Alex Adeyemi?"
"You are," I answered. "Who's this?"
I was up to my neck in cold calls from strangers who wanted to sell me car insurance and was ready to tear the caller a new one when he explained, "I'm calling about the Caregiver role. For Granger Manor."
Those words chased the sleep out of my eyes. I sat up straight.
Me and my girlfriend were saving up for our wedding. But with only ten months left, we needed every penny we could get.
I needed a part-time job and I needed one fast.
But finding a good, decent job these days was like finding water in the Sahara.
So it's no surprise that I applied for this Caregiver vacancy 2 minutes after it went live on Indeed.
"We like your CV and would like to invite you for an interview," the caller continued. His voice was soft, silky smooth. So smooth it was almost unnerving. He sounded like one of those ASMR YouTubers. "Would you be free tomorrow morning? 8:30 AM, to be exact."
I didn't miss a beat. "I'll be there."
I never expected them to call me back half an hour after I applied. 11 at night, no less.
But I just assumed they were as desperate for employees as I was to earn some money on the side. It was a match made in heaven.
The interview was done over Zoom.
The next morning I sat at my dining room table, hunched over my laptop, headphones pressed into my ears as I joined the call.
The video call flickered to life and a middle-aged man appeared on my screen. He introduced himself as Damien.
No surnames. Just Damien.
He looked as professional as he sounded. Slicked-back dark hair as black as night, well-groomed beard, suit and tie.
He smiled, but if there was even a shred of warmth left in that smile, it didn’t reach his pale blue eyes. The corners of his mouth were pulled back just a little too far, revealing teeth that were unnaturally even and white, as if he spent a lifetime polishing them to perfection.
He asked all the usual questions.
What are your weaknesses?
What do you believe are the most important qualities for a caregiver to possess, and how do you demonstrate them?
Why do you think you're a good fit for this company?
I bullshitted my way through the interview.
I asked a few questions of my own too. There were barely any traces of the care home on the Internet and I was curious about that.
Damien glanced up at me. His smile never wavered, but his eyes held a flicker of something unreadable. It looked a little like surprise. "Ah, yes," he began, his voice measured and calm, "we pride ourselves on maintaining a private and exclusive environment for our residents. Many of them prefer a more… discreet approach, away from the prying eyes of the public."
It sounded like he was reading from a rehearsed script. I ignored the red flags. Looking back at it, I ignored a lot of red flags. Money sometimes makes you blind.
In the end, I got the job.
I started work the next evening.

I kissed Celine goodbye and was out the door.
The place was a 45-minute drive from our house, in the ass crack middle of nowhere. Frank Ocean sang his heart out on the car radio as I sped through the highway on a foggy night. The long road ran through the woods and I drove past miles and miles of tall birch trees that stretched up to the cloudy sky.
All around me, there was nothing but forest.
The care home was nestled at the end of a quiet street in a gated community. It was a small, old-school bungalow with neatly trimmed bushes and colourful flowerbeds on the lawn.
I parked up, stepped out, and headed to the front door.
Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door creaked open, revealing a tall man in the dimly-lit hallway. "Good evening," Damien said, with that smooth yet hollow voice. "Alex was it?"
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Yes, that's right," I shook his hands. "Nice to meet you."
Something about the man gave me unease.
"Come in," he stepped aside with an almost mechanical grace. "We've been expecting you. Anything to drink? Coffee? Water?"
"No, thanks. I'm good."
The door closed behind me with a soft thud.
The tall man gestured for me to follow him down a narrow hallway, and with each step, the unease in my chest tightened its grip.
The radio was playing softly in the background. As I listened, the crackly voice became clearer: "… We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you a special report. We have just received word that Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, has been attacked by Japanese forces. I repeat, Pearl Harbor has been attacked…"
Damien must have noticed my curiosity. "You're probably wondering why we play old news broadcasts like this one," he chimed in, his voice steady. "It's not just for nostalgia's sake, although that does play a part. It's about keeping a connection to the past alive, especially for our older residents."
Now that he mentioned it, the entire house looked like it was frozen in the past.
The furniture in the living room matched the vintage feel.
Plush armchairs with floral upholstery sat alongside polished wooden side tables.
A few framed black-and-white photographs adorned the walls, capturing memories from what seemed like a distant past – smiling faces at family gatherings, couples dancing at social events, a little girl building a sandcastle, a slender ballerina posing on her tiptoes.
Even the light fixtures, with their frosted glass shades, seemed to belong to another era. The soft, dim glow they poured into the room added to the cozy yet eerie atmosphere.
It looked how you'd expect an old people's home to look. There was only one thing missing. "Where are all the residents?" I thought out loud.
Damien stopped abruptly. Apart from the ticking of the grandfather clock on the wall and the crackle of wood from the fireplace, there was no sound apart from the news reporter on the radio.
He turned to me with that signature smile that was stitched onto his face, his eyes pale as snow.
"I must inform you that the nature of this role is quite unique." He cleared his throat. "Alex, you see, the resident you will be providing companionship to is not a living person."
"S-Say what?" the words caught in my throat.
"The individual in question is not alive. Well, at least not in the conventional sense. You will be tasked with watching over their ashes."
He went on, "This is an afterlife care agency. We care for those whom society had forgotten. Those who passed away with a dying wish to be remembered and loved from beyond the grave. Many of our clients are folks who died alone, with no one in their lives. No living husbands or wives, no children, no friends to mourn their losses."
As he spoke, my gaze drifted to a corner of the room where a small, ornate urn rested on a side table. It dawned on me that the "client" in question was the pile of cremated ashes in that urn.
"We're understaffed at the moment, so we've had to outsource some of our work across the country. It's a rather unconventional responsibility, I understand. So, if this isn't what you were expecting, it's perfectly – "
I was on my way to the door before he even finished his sentence. "Oh, hell nah."
"The pay would be $2,000 per night," he added, stopping me in my tracks. "We've already wired this night's pay to your account."
I pulled out my phone and saw the PayPal notification signalling that $2,000 had landed safely in my account. I don't even know they got my account details.
That's how I started looking after Ms. Ferguson's ashes.
--

Damien explained that Ms. Ferguson had died of a brain aneurysm. "Right on that chair," he pointed.
3 weeks had passed before anyone noticed.
The mailman came to deliver a letter one morning and when he saw the unopened letters flooding the mailbox and smelt the stench of rot, he alerted the police.
And there they found her body, slumped on that chair.
No one was named in her Will.
Her only request was for her savings to be invested into her "afterlife care", and for her ashes to be scattered at a beach.
And so here we were.
There were "rules" that I had to follow each night. Damien handed me a document that listed them all.

Rule #1: Ensure all doors and windows are securely locked by midnight. Do not open until the end of shift. No exceptions.
Rule #2: If you hear the sound of crying, remain perfectly still until it passes. Do not, under any circumstances, make a sound.
Rule #3: Do not sleep on the job.
Rule #4: Do not look into any mirrors after midnight.
Rule #5: Do not open the bedroom door at the end of the hallway.

"You must not under any circumstances break these rules, Alex," Damien finished. For the first time, the smile faded from his face. He was dead serious.
"Got it," I said.
My schedule was the same each night.
I polished the tables, vacuumed the carpets, dusted the bookshelves, and played Ms. Ferguson's favourite songs on the record player. She apparently loved jump blues music, so every night I played "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" back to back.
For the most part, it was a decent job. I had no supervisor so sometimes I just laid on the couch, watching Joe Rogan until sunrise. Then I'd clock out at 7 am.
Rinse, repeat.
I didn't hear the sound of crying until the 4^th night.
I was in the house all by myself.
I remained as still as a mannequin, my heart beating in my chest. Frozen, paralysed by fear as I heard the sobbing.
Sure, Damien did warn me about the crying, but I didn't expect it to actually happen.
I strained my ears to listen, but the sound was faint and muffled like it was coming from inside the walls themselves. Almost as though they didn't want anyone to hear.
But then the crying got louder and louder. And then it was followed by the sound of scratching. Nails scratching furiously from inside the walls.
That was the last straw. As soon as the crying stopped, I got up out of there.
I left the house keys under the doormat.
My phone was ringing up a storm as I reversed out of the driveway. Damien must have been alerted that the door was opened. I put it on loudspeaker and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
"What are you doing, Alex?" There was no more politeness in Damien's voice.
"I'm quitting. Don't worry, I'll pay back tonight's wage. But I've entertained this crazy shit long enough."
"Mr. Adeyemi, you're making a mistake."
"Listen, I'm not spending one more night in that madhouse."
"There are rules. You broke them."
"Please don't call me again."
"Mr. Adeyemi, I urge you to – " I hung up the phone.

When I finally stepped through my front door, the familiar warmth of home began to ease my nerves.
I collapsed to sleep on the sofa.
Later that morning, I stirred awake to the sound of soft footsteps. Celine was already up by 7 in the morning, her eyes full of concern as she gently shook my shoulder.
"Hey," she said, her voice a soothing balm. "You okay? You look like you barely slept."
She handed me a cup of coffee.
I rubbed my eyes and managed a tired smile. "Rough night," I admitted, the memories of the care home still fresh in my mind.
She frowned, worry etched across her face. "You don't have to keep pushing yourself so hard," she said, kissing me on my forehead. "We can figure things out together."
"I know." I reached for her hand. "I just want everything to be perfect for us."
"It already is, as long as we're together." She squeezed my hand and smiled gently. "Just had my performance review. Been pushing for that Senior Product Manager role. If I get it, it'll make things a little easier for us."
"That’s great, babe. I know you'll get it."
She probably noticed how distracted I was.
"You sure you're ok, Lex?"

From that point forward, I heard nothing more from Damien.
No text messages, no calls. Radio silence.
The job posting was no longer live on Indeed.
And I didn’t have the man's number, so calling him wasn't an option.
I wanted to clear the air, to make sure he wouldn't break into my house one night and slip cyanide in my coffee.
The silence was killing me. The uncertainty, the dread of not knowing what he was thinking.
I drove back to Ms. Ferguson's house, but there was no one there. Someone had stuck up a 'For Sale' sign on the lawn.
It was as if the whole ordeal had never happened. Four nights that were blotted out of history.
Life went back to usual for the most part.
At that point, I hadn't told Celine what had happened. Not about the special requirements of the job, the weird rules, or the muffled crying I heard from inside the walls.
I didn't want to worry her. She had enough on her plates.
Everything would go back to normal, I convinced myself.
I was wrong.
One morning, as I got up to brush my teeth, I glanced in the mirror and saw the reflection of an old lady standing behind me. I spun around and saw no one there.
But when my eyes drifted back to the mirror, there she was again. Impossibly thin and frail, draped in a tattered nightgown, leaning on a cane. Her eyes were red and teary. She had been crying.
At the office, I'd see her lithe frame in toilet mirrors. Her silent eyes were now dead, as though she had run out of tears.
There she was in the corner of my bedroom at night, her silhouette lurking in the dark, walking aimlessly, drifting at the corner of my eyes. But when I looked directly at her she'd vanish again.
Everywhere I went, I'd hear the tap, tap, tap of that cane as she followed me.
But she was invisible to everyone else.
It didn't take long for me to start losing my appetite.
I ate less. My eyes became sunken, hollow from the sleepless nights. I lost some weight and my face was gaunt.
I stopped going to the office because I was terrified.
I locked myself in my house and hid under the covers. That was the only place I was safe from her.
I had no choice but to confess everything to Celine.
She did what she could to support. She set up appointments with a therapist, stayed awake with me after my night terrors, took time off work to be around more.
But still, I drifted slowly into the deep end of madness.
We ended up canceling the wedding.
But the torture didn't stop there. Soon I began seeing Ms. Ferguson's urn in random places too.
I stepped into my bedroom one evening, and there it was, sitting on my nightstand as if it had always been there.
Each time I found it, I tried to get rid of it – moving it to the attic, locking it in the basement, even throwing it out with the trash. But no matter what I did, it always returned, undisturbed and pristine.
And if it wasn't the urn haunting me, it was the old lady with that cane of hers.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
--

"Maybe she's trying to tell you something," Celine suggested one night.
We were laying on the sofa together, as I ran my hand through her hair. Ms. Ferguson was staring at us from the corner of the room. I tried to ignore her.
"Is she here with us now?" Celine asked.
"Yeah, she's right there," I pointed to beside the dining room table.
I could see that made Celine uneasy. She shifted slightly, her body tensing. "Perhaps she just needs something to be at peace," Celine added, her eyes lingering on the corner of the room.
"Perhaps." I was suddenly reminded of Ms. Ferguson's Will. She wanted her ashes to be scattered at a beach. "I might have an idea."
That following morning, I stepped out of my front door for the first time in what felt like an eternity. I squinted at the blinding sunlight, feeling the fresh morning breeze on my face.
It was a fifty-mile drive to the closest beach. The open road stretched out ahead, winding through coastal towns and past towering cliffs laced with wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. Ms. Ferguson's urn was riding shotgun on the front seat.
The world outside my car seemed to slow down.
You have a lot of time to think about everything when you're out on the road.
And that whole journey, all I could think about was Ms. Ferguson.
I had so many questions.
What did she do for a living?
Did she have any children?
Was she ever married?
Why did she want her ashes to be scattered at the beach?
I never cared to ask Damien any of these questions, but all of a sudden these things seemed to hold more weight. More value.
Finally, the beach appeared in the distance, a stretch of sand bordered by rugged cliffs and soft waves.
I parked the car and stepped out onto the sand, the grains warm beneath my feet. The wide ocean stood before me, stretching into the distance forever. The sun was still climbing over the horizon.
I hired one of the small boats from the fishermen and paddled it out until I was far out in the calm waters.
I sat there for a moment with Ms. Ferguson's ashes.
It was quiet out there. Nothing but the lapping of the waves, the faint cries of the seagulls above, the breeze of the wind.
"All you wanted was to be cherished by someone," I said to no one in particular.
Then it all hit me. All of my emotions collided like a car speeding into oncoming traffic. The fear, the sleepless nights, the confusion, the numbness – all of it mingled with a deep sense of sadness. The sadness I felt for Ms. Ferguson. For all the years she felt alone, isolated, forgotten.
Tears fell from my eyes before I realised I was crying. With trembling hands, I opened the urn. "I'm sorry. It must have been so lonely, so painful," I said. "But this isn't where you belong. You can let go, you can find peace now."
I scattered her ashes into the sea and as I watched it drift away, I felt a heaviness lift off from my shoulders.
I never saw Ms. Ferguson again after that.