Chapter 1

Alyssa awoke with saltwater in her mouth and nose. She hacked and sputtered, only to realize she was sinking deeper into a pitch dark pool. She closed her eyes against the water's sting, and as her panic rose she flailed with arms and legs. She was desperate to regain bouyancy, even as she choked out the brine from her burning lungs. Determined, she broke to the surface again, gulping in air between ragged coughs as she fought to stay afloat.
Treading water, she opened her eyes and nothing changed. The darkness in the echoing chamber was complete, and she had to fight down another surge of panic as she took in the precariousness of her situation. The cold water sapped her strength, and her heart raced as a sudden scream of terror welled up from within.
Alyssa winced as her own scream echoed in her ears. She choked out the last of the salty water, then took a deep breath, trying to force herself to calm. "Okay, okay," she soothed herself, voice trembling slightly despite her efforts, "we're okay."
After another steadying breath, Alyssa began building a mental catalog of her situation. Her clothes were soaked through, but she wasn't finding treading water to be too difficult, yet; a future problem. Other than her lungs, nothing hurt, and those were recovering. She could still feel her toes and fingers on both hands, meaning no paralysis, that she could find. Nothing seemed to be seriously wrong, except that she had no idea how she'd come to be in a pitch dark echoing chamber filled with water.
Calmer, now, Alyssa tried to recall what she had been doing. The last thing she remembered was walking along the shoreline, feeling immensely lonely. The sound of the waves coming in, closer and closer, was still vivid in her mind. She could still remember the coarse feeling of the sand between her toes. The saltwater air had filled her lungs as she wondered how she could be in such a beautiful place, and still feel so sorry for herself. With a bitter laugh, Alyssa lolled her head back in the water and stared into the endless void. Well she certainly had reason to feel sorry for herself, now. Still, the memory of how she came to be here was distressingly absent.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
As her adrenaline faded, Alyssa could hear the slow, steady fall of water into the pool. Was the water level rising? She couldn't tell without knowing more about the chamber she was in. Determined to push back against her growing despair, Alyssa decided to explore her environment more thoroughly. A shiver coursed through her spine as she felt out to either side as far as her arms would go and couldn't find a wall, nor did she find purchase beneath her feet. After a moment of hesitation, Alyssa expanded her search. She swam forward, keeping her hands ahead of herself.
She didn't have to go far before she bumped into an uneven stone surface. Alyssa wasn't sure in the dark, but judging by the smoothness of the rock she guessed it was some kind of river stone. She followed the stone wall around for a ways before deciding it was curved inward. Pushing off, Alyssa turned and reached for the other side, then followed along the wall and repeated the crossing a few more times. She decided that the cavern was roughly circular, perhaps half again as wide as her armspan at its widest stretch, though without light she couldn't be certain she had ever crossed it straight. She considered her options as she clung to the side of the chamber.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
The steady sound was maddening in its repetition, and Alyssa let out a huff of annoyance. Thinking on it, though, she was sure the water had been steadily falling into the chamber the entire time she was here, and she didn't think the water level had risen. Not that she had any way to really know for certain, but if she was right, it implied there was some way for the water to get back out. Could she get out the same way? Taking a deep breath, Alyssa ducked beneath the surface and swam down. Her kicks were hindered by her sodden skirt, but following along the cavern wall as she descended, Alyssa felt the cavern floor after a depth of maybe twice her height. Ten feet wasn't even as deep as most home swimming pools.
Alyssa gulped down air as she returned to the surface, thinking hard about what she'd found. Another shiver coursed through her veins just before she dove down to explore the bottom further. Like the walls, it was uneven but smooth. She could feel some small cracks, and feel the water rushing past her fingers near one or two of these. That, then, was where the water was escaping to. Frustrated, she resurfaced one more and banged her fist against the stone wall. "Damnit." She knew she wouldn't be swimming her way out of here.
For the third time, Alyssa shivered, and she realised that she was starting to lose feeling in her toes. The water temperature wasn't frigid, but she could feel it sapping her strength. Was it ninety-six degrees for hypothermia? Ninety-five? She couldn't recall, but it wasn't important, without a thermometer. She was going to die, here, if she didn't find a way out, and soon.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
Straining, she tried to focus on the sounds around her once more. The incessant dripping of the cave was her only remaining hope of finding a way out, and she had no idea how to reach the ceiling. Alyssa squeezed her toes in an attempt to restore some feeling, while she thought about the problem. After a moment, she began exploring the cavern walls again, this time searching for something to stand on rather than just learning about her environment. After a few turns about the chamber, she found a small shelf just a few feet beneath the surface, large enough for her to put a single foot on.
She pushed herself up, trying to go slowly as she felt along the wall for anything to grip onto. She couldn't find purchase before her momentum carried her too far from the wall, but she did feel roughly how high the ceiling was just before she splashed back into the pool. "Yes!" she celebrated the small victory as she surfaced, fueling her hopes of an escape with that realization that she could probably wedge herself between the ceiling and the shelf if she was purposeful about it.
Returning to the wall, she tamped down on the urge to shiver again, then surged straight up, putting her hands above her to try and catch the ceiling. Water cascaded around her in a torrent, her water-logged clothing threatening to drag her back to the depths, but she held on until she was steady. Alyssa allowed herself a small smile for her success, though some part of her thought it felt more like a grimace, before she began feeling along the cavern ceiling with her hands. Like the rest of the chamber, the stone was smooth and uneven, but it had sharper protrusions here and there that might serve as handholds. Alyssa was reminded of the wall climb at the local mall. She'd never been great at it, despite her friends dragging her to try it every other weekend during high school.
As she continued exploring the ceiling, another involuntary shiver wracked her body, and she set her teeth against the growing chill. "I'm going to get out," she promised herself, just as her hand found open air where she'd expected stone. She nearly fell, but she caught herself and explored the edges of the hole. She couldn't even reach the entire thing from her perch! The ledge was rugged and sharp, and just barely far enough from the wall that she had to strain to reach it. She explored as far around the hole as she could, certain it was large enough for her to fit through. Excited, Alyssa grabbed onto the ledge with both hands and tried to pull herself up, but her grip wasn't solid enough. She immediately slipped back into the water with another splash.
Alyssa surfaced with a growl, feeling a surge of determination and stubbornness. Reclaiming her perch on the shelf, she pushed up to the roof of the chamber once more. This time she knew her target, so rather than wasting time and grip with exploration, she just focused on steadying herself, there. After a few breaths, she reached up to grab the ledge again, trying to find solid hand-holds.
As she swung out from the wall, her sodden skirt trailed through the water, weighing her down. She held on for longer this time, uttering a harsh noise as she strained to pull herself up. She managed to get her chin to her fingers before her grip failed her again, and the feeling of freefall sent her heart thrilling before she splashed into the cool water once more.
When she surfaced, Alyssa let out a frustrated growl. "I had it!" she admonished herself, before finding the ledge once more. A third time, her efforts were fouled and she fell into the water. In frustration, she peeled her skirt off her legs and abandoned it to the murky brine. With the drag gone, she had an easier time holding onto the ledge, and on her fourth attempt she nearly managed to pull herself all the way up before her arms gave out and she slipped back into the water with yet another scream of frustration.
She knew she was close, but she obviously wasn't going to make progress while her muscles were burning with fatigue. Floating on her back, Alyssa glared up into the darkness as her emotions swirled around her, threatening to drag her into despair. Hope and frustration warred within her, each trying to gain the upper hand. She clung onto the determination that she had almost made it, but as she dwelled on the problem above her, doubts began to surface. What if she couldn’t pull herself out? What if there wasn’t a way out above?
Anger surged through her at that thought, hot and fierce. She refused to accept that fate. Closing her eyes, she focused on the anger and used it as fuel for her resolve. She just needed a moment to catch her breath, relax her muscles, and try again. She was going to get out.
When she swung out for the fifth time, Alyssa’s fingers gripped tightly to the rock above. She pulled herself up into the black with a roar of determination and frustration. She got her chest over the lip, then reached one arm forward hastily in search of a better hold. She found purchase, then pulled a leg up and got one foot on the ledge. With a scream of exultation, she pushed herself the rest of the way out of the chamber and into the tunnels above.
With a feral noise of triumph, Alyssa slid onto the cool, damp stone of the tunnel, then rolled onto her back and lay gasping for air. Her muscles were twitching, and she was still cold, but she was no longer in the water, and that was a massive improvement, even if the dark and damp of the unknown was around her.
Alyssa wasn’t sure how long she lay there on the stone, but as her panting and muscle spasms gave way to shivering and goosebumps, she admitted to herself, “I have to move.” But it was hard to keep going; her body felt heavy and drained from the exertion of just climbing out of the chamber below, and she wasn’t even sure where to go next. With a groan, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, fighting the exhaustion and mounting sense of dread that threatened to claim her.
Carefully, she crawled forward on hands and knees, every movement an effort. She could feel the edge of the hole she’d just emerged from, but that was obviously a deadend. Instead, she pressed on, hunting for an alternative. The rough stone scraped against her palms and knees as she inched along, her progress painfully slow.
The cavern descended, and Alyssa's heart sank when her hand plunged into another pool of water. She pulled back, relieved that the bank was shallow enough she could easily get back out of this pool. Nevertheless, she paused to consider her options, then turned to explore in the opposite direction. After several minutes of fruitless searching, she realized that the water-filled passage was her only way forward.
Alyssa let out a heavy sigh of frustration as she lowered herself into the tepid water. She gritted her teeth as the cold crept back into her bones, but willed herself to keep moving. The tunnel continued its descent, and soon the ceiling plunged into the pool, forcing her to submerge if she wanted to continue. Alyssa hesitated, barely holding back her desperate tears. Swimming blindly through the flooded passage seemed like madness, but what choice did she have?
Taking a deep, gasping breath, Alyssa plunged beneath the surface and swam forward with powerful kicks of her legs. She kept one hand on the stone above and the other stretched out in front of her, searching for obstacles. As her lungs began to burn with the need for oxygen, panic threatened to overwhelm her. What if the tunnel never resurfaced? If she went much further, she was certain she would not be able to make it back. Still, she had no alternatives; no other way to proceed. So she swam forward into the unknown, gambling her life on an exit while desperately ignoring the growing panic in the back of her mind.
A subtle glow in the murky water caught Alyssa’s attention, and the tunnel veered sharply upward. Desperate for air, she kicked towards the light, discarding caution as she propelled herself forward and up with both arms and legs. Hope surged through her as she swam towards the surface.
When she emerged from the water, gasping and sputtering for air, Alyssa let out a cry of relief. Mushrooms! Glowing mushrooms filled the room, their glow dim but omnipresent. She marveled, letting out a delighted laugh at the sight of the water’s reflection erupting into a cascade of colors on the cavern ceiling. Alyssa took a deep breath, and although the air was musty and stale, it had a sharpness and movement to it that the previous chamber hadn’t. Where there were mushrooms there was life, and where there was wind there was an exit. For the first time in hours, Alyssa smiled, as she pulled herself out of the pool onto the bank.

Chapter 2

For the second time in several hours, Alyssa lay on the ground catching her breath and allowing her muscles to relax. The swim through the watery airlock–she couldn’t think of any other way to describe that tunnel–had been far more mentally taxing than the physical exertion of pulling herself up out of the first chamber. Nevertheless, it required a great deal of effort and she was exhausted.
As she lay on her back, Alyssa tried again to remember how she got here. She remembered vividly her walk on the beach, and then … water. There was nothing in between. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed, but judging by the way her stomach was starting to groan in protest, and by the fullness of her bladder, she was fairly sure it had been several hours. On the other hand, she could account for at least two of those since she found herself in the chamber, unless her estimate of time was very off.
Her deliberations were cut short by a small squeaking noise, not far away. Alyssa eased herself up and turned towards the noise. There in the field of mushrooms was a small white and brown mouse, cast in an eerie glow by the mushroom's bioluminescence. Alyssa watched in awe as the mouse nibbled on the mushrooms, waiting to see what would happen. She didn't know enough about mushrooms to judge their safety for herself, but if the mouse could eat them, she figured they were probably safe for her to try, as well. After all, weren't mice used for drug testing all the time?
The mouse seemed oblivious to Alyssa’s presence, and she held her breath as best she could while she counted the seconds, trying to decide how long she should wait before trusting the results. Hours, probably, if she was honest with herself. Just when she was about to give up on the idea, a sudden movement caught her eye. Beyond the mouse, swift as could be, a slithering figure stole towards the unsuspecting rodent. “No!” she called, and her hand found a rock. Hastily, she threw it towards the onrushing creature. The rock went wide, but the serpent’s stealth was spoiled, and the mouse quickly darted away from its assailant, deeper into the mushrooms.
The snake let out a hiss of annoyance, and Alyssa was briefly overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of immense displeasure. She wasn’t surprised the snake was annoyed, but the sheer vehemence she felt was almost as if sensing her own emotions. Its lunch foiled, the serpent turned and slithered away, leaving Alyssa and the mouse alone in the chamber once again.
Alyssa waited, still and quiet, as the chamber settled back into silence. She wondered whether the little mouse had escaped the field of mushrooms entirely, or if it was still here. But something told her to wait; a sense of hesitance and uncertainty that felt sourceless and yet compelling.
Eventually, her patience paid off, and the little mouse poked its head back out of the mushrooms, staring after the snake. It emitted a soft, hesitant noise, then furtively darted out of the field into the open. There, it paused to stare up at Alyssa, studying her with a raw curiosity that nearly overwhelmed Alyssa as much as the snake’s displeasure had. She also sensed gratitude from the little mouse, though how she knew that’s what it was feeling she could not say.
“Are you hurt?” she hazarded, as she leaned in towards the mouse. The little creature took a quick step back, and the curiosity was immediately replaced by uncertainty.
Alyssa straightened up to give the mouse space. The feeling of uncertainty slowly faded, and she tilted her head in curiosity. “Why can I sense what you're feeling?” she asked the mouse, though of course she knew it would not reply.
The mouse watched her for several more moments before taking a single daring step forward. Alyssa sat very still, and after another moment it took a few more steps towards her. Soon, it was near to her knee, its little nose twitching incessantly as it sniffed at her dampened skin.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any food on me,” Alyssa said, still not moving but to talk. The mouse sat back and stood up on its hind legs to peer up at her. Alyssa could sense its curiosity turn to acceptance, and then, before she could protest, the little mouse leapt up onto her leg. She gasped in startlement, surprised at the feel of its soft fur and the tickle of its little claws brushing against her bare skin.
When it reached her hip, the mouse scurried under her tee shirt, and Alyssa made a choking noise of displeasure as it crawled, with quick movements, up her back and out of the tattered collar. When it came to rest on her shoulder, Alyssa held her breath, not daring to move. She watched the mouse out of the side of her eye, and a sense of appreciation flooded into her perception. Slowly, she turned her head to see the mouse staring at her. With a twitch of its whiskers, the little creature poked its nose against her cheek, cool and damp, before turning to look at the mushrooms.
“You think they will be safe for me?” she asked quietly, as she turned to follow the mouse’s gaze. “But raw mushrooms …” she complained, with some disdain. The mouse touched its nose to her cheek once more, and Alyssa sensed insistence. With a sigh, she mumbled, “Why am I trusting a mouse?” before ever so slowly–so as not to dislodge her guest–she leaned forward to collect a handful of the morsels.
Alyssa straightened and studied her collection of mushrooms thoughtfully. Arranging them by size, she selected the smallest and glanced at the mouse out of the corner of her eye once more. "You're sure about this?" she asked, her voice echoing in the damp cavern. The mouse couldn't speak, of course, but Alyssa felt a strong sense of certainty from her tiny companion. Or maybe that was just the discomfort of hypothermia, exhaustion and her painfully full bladder talking.
Hesitantly, Alyssa popped the smallest mushroom into her mouth. It had a surprisingly rich, earthy flavor, reminiscent of the forest after a rainstorm. As she chewed, the spongy texture yielded, releasing a burst of liquid that filled her mouth with a strange, electric tingle. The sensation was not unpleasant, but definitely unfamiliar. She swallowed, marveling at how easily it went down despite her reservations.
Emboldened by the lack of immediate ill effects, Alyssa quickly consumed the other mushrooms. With each one, the tingling sensation spread, until her whole body hummed with a kind of vibrant, restless energy.
Cupping her hands together, Alyssa scooped up some of the cool water and drank deeply. The liquid soothed her throat, but did nothing to quell the building sense of excitement and unease. She leaned back against the rock, trying to steady herself as the mushrooms’ effects took hold.
It wasn't hallucinations, but a profound shift in Alyssa's perception. The cave seemed to come alive around her; the rocks and water pulsed with a subtle, resonant energy. She felt a surge of confidence and clarity, as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. With trembling hands, she tore a strip from the bottom of her t-shirt and fashioned it into a makeshift pouch. She wasn't sure what lay ahead, but having a source of food could prove useful. She filled the pouch to the brim with the glowing caps, marveling at their strangeness, before tying it securely to her hip.
"Okay," Alyssa whispered, her voice sounding strangely amplified to her own ears. "I guess we follow the snake." The thought of the serpent sent a ripple of fear through her companion, but she reassured him, "Don't worry, I won't let it get you." The little mouse was still afraid, but it seemed to understand her meaning, and nestled up against her neck, soft fur gentle on her skin.
With a deep breath, Alyssa rolled to her knees and stood, her legs trembling slightly. The mouse clung to her, its small heartbeat echoing her own. Alyssa could feel its mix of curiosity and trepidation, mirroring her own complex emotions. "Come on," she muttered, "let's go." She started forward into the gloom, following the serpent's path and the promise of fresh air. Using the glowing bundle on her hip as a makeshift light, Alyssa navigated the narrow tunnels with confidence. Her bare feet found easy purchase on the cool, damp stone. She progressed at a much more comfortable pace than the slow, exploratory crawl she'd been limited to in the submerged chamber. As she followed the winding tunnel, it sloped gradually upwards, and a light fog crept in, curling around her ankles. Alyssa's heart quickened. She dared to believe she was nearing open air, and a potential end to this nightmare.
Yet even as hope blossomed in her chest, each step brought a growing unease from the small, furry companion on Alyssa's shoulder. The mouse huddled closer to her neck, its nose twitching incessantly. As they rounded a corner, a new scent filled Alyssa's nostrils: earthy mud and a hint of ozone, in stark contrast to the mineral-rich dampness of the caverns. The tunnel widened sharply ahead, seeming to fall away into a murky expanse. Through the haze, the silhouette of a massive tree trunk promised an escape from what she had almost believed might be her tomb.
"We made it," Alyssa breathed, a swell of triumph surging through her. The mushrooms' influence still thrummed in her veins, confidence mingling with her own burgeoning anticipation. She quickened her pace, emerging from the cave mouth into the cool, damp air. Alyssa paused there, one hand on the stone wall, as she breathed in the scent of her freedom.
A twilit forest stretched out before her, dotted with towering trees that reached for an unfamiliar sky. Alyssa tilted her head back, marveling at the stars glimmering above. Their patterns were strange, yet mesmerizing; their strangeness only matched by the comfort they brought her. Alyssa knew the constellations were wrong; that they matched nothing she'd ever seen before, but right now all that mattered was the comfort in knowing that she would not die in that cave.
A squeak of pure terror from the mouse jolted Alyssa from her reverie. The force of her companion's fear nearly knocked the wind from her. Alyssa swiftly sought the source of the mouse's fear. There, beside the nearest tree, stood a tall, gaunt figure, a serpent slithering up its leg. The figure's cold blue eyes glared at Alyssa with a chilling intensity.
As the snake continued its ascent, the figure lifted a hand, guiding the snake to wrap about its too-long neck. Subtle, thorny protrusions emerged from the figure's chin, and the snake rubbed itself against them, hissing as it impressed its displeasure upon the figure, no doubt casting Alyssa as the villain in its tale.
"H-hello," Alyssa stammered, suddenly acutely aware of her vulnerability. She took a guarded step back and brought her hands up defensively. The figure's presence was oppressive, suffocating. Even in her desperation, Alyssa knew she wanted no part of any help they might offer. Still, she needed time to think. She had to find a way past them without provoking their ire, and an attempt at being polite was all she could come up with in the moment.
The figure spoke, its voice a grating rattle. "You have violated the ancient agreement, and trespassed beyond the barrier." Alyssa was sure she didn't know what any of that meant, but before she could say so, the figure continued, "There are consequences for your meddling, child, and I am come to deliver them."

So, I obviously can't trust Google results on things like this. My goals are:

1. Reduce (not eliminate) my electric bill (which means tying into the grid) and
2. Have a backup system that can run 2 meat freezers for...a while.
3. Roof area I have to work with is 192 sqft, pretty shallow pitch.

I'm not interested in putting panels on my *house* roof at the moment. I have a large shed that is my work studio (16x12) and it gets alot of sun, and I plan to install the panels on that. The roof is a pretty shallow pitch. I'm looking for an entire package with everything needed to achieve those goals (if it exists).
Trying to buy from a quality company that stands behind its products. I've got an electrician who will be installing the system for me and will be handling the grid tie issues, so I'm just looking for the right hardware.
Thanks for any help y'all can offer!

Will yall give me some guidance on it without crucifying me? Not a homeowner or customer trying to fuck a contractor. Not a flipper, either.
The addition is about 320 sqft. Mild pitch. Post footings. I'll post the plans in a different post or PM anyone interested.
On my own ive done a two story, 1800 Sq ft full remodel and a ton of exterior work. On a crew I've done layout and set posts for 60' x 80', 80' x 100', big pole sheds. I've done both asphalt and steel roofing, but never a framed a valley.
The skill set and attention to detail are there, but I need help with streamlining and being efficient.
I really don't want to look like a fumble fuck in front of my mentor. I don't know him super well.
He's been doing it since the 80s and is retiring. He's helpful and not ornery, unlike most old boys. I'm not afraid to ask him for help. My concern is wasting his time on trivial shit yall could maybe prep me for.
Cost, pricing, I'm not too worried about. Although, i can let yall know what i quoted for labor. He's handling the material.

This is part of what's become a somewhat sprawling fan fiction project that I posted a version of some other material from well over a year ago, on a now deleted account with a user name I can't even remember. That original effort ended up ballooning, splitting apart into multiple pieces, with each of those also in turn growing further. Like cancer. I suppose you could call it fluff background for a homebrew regiment (or it would be if I bothered to play the actual tabletop game, which I don't), but it's expanded beyond that to world building that doesn't even loosely connect to anything to do with the regiment.
I've been working on these off and on for months, and decided now was as good a time as any to start posting them. Feudal Japan seems to be an evergreen setting; there's a baseline of people who are always interested in it, but it seems to be especially popular right now, between the immense success of the new Shogun show and numerous recent and upcoming releases in the video game world. It's also the season of Dune, and I feel elements of its use of language have echoes here (for better or worse; I know some will find it obnoxious).
The influence is obvious of course, but if people just want 'Samurai in 40k', this isn't that. That already exists anyway; Graham McNeill played with many of those stereotypes with his Yasu Nagasena character. This is adjacent to, and chronologically after in terms of themes, such a thing. In fact, if people are burned out on that kind of thing, perhaps give this a chance, because within this world that kind of standard portrayal is essentially bullshit (though within the setting some people believe it to be true).
This is an early piece I've never been fully satisfied with, but it serves as an origin story. It provides a foundation for what follows.
******
"There is often an inverse ratio between the competence of an individual and the level of authority they achieve. A true meritocracy, if it can ever exist at all, inevitably breaks down in the face of elite nepotism. Most 'high performers' are just better parasites.
The citizens of the Imperium would shudder if they truly understood the average calibre of the dreck that is vomited up by the Schola Progenia and the War Colleges, and which pretends to defend them." - Kayil al-Haqiqat al-Mulim, Commentaries on Our Betters, samizdat, circa 864.M41, author declared Excommunicate Traitoris 866.M41. Perusal of this document below the Inquisitorial rank of Master is punishable by death.
"Attack is the secret of defence; defence is the planning of an attack." - Taiyoukeian Military Maxim
++++++Thought for the day: Doubt breeds dissent.++++++
I was never supposed to command a regiment. No onna-bushi ever is. Oh, we have ranks and are in the chain of command. But it's also understood that we're last in the pecking order; officers from every other company take priority.
But then again, it was also never supposed to be that the entirety of the upper officer corps, including all of the company captains, except for those of the units already heavily engaged on the perimeter and unable to attend, of not just one but six regiments are killed when an unlucky heretic super heavy artillery shell manages to penetrate through all 250mm of the plasteel reinforced ferrocrete of the command bunker. A one in a thousand chance. But that's precisely what happened after Colonel Tanaka, Kohi rest his soul, in his great wisdom, insisted that everyone attend a face to face meeting to coordinate the defence of the spaceport.
Everyone that is except me, as well as another captain whose company had been deployed on a training patrol, and who hadn't been heard from since the traitors made their sudden planetfall, as well as the commanders of the companies already mired in combat. No one even bothered to summon me from where I was on the other side of the compound, inspecting the siwa mounts. The plan would be decided without my input and my orders would be relayed to me afterward. Now, to be completely fair, my company and I were only technically part of the 39th, having been temporarily attached to the regiment solely for the duration of our trip to Zaebasha Epsilon, where we were to be assigned as auxilia to the Order of the Tearful Dahlia.
Given the steady stream of cultists currently pouring from the general direction of where the Adepta Sororitas Convent is located it's probably safe to assume that assignment has been rendered moot.
I should probably provide a bit more context. Zaebasha Epsilon is a relatively inconsequential Imperial world; a minor regional trade hub. Not so minor though that a significant traitor fleet didn't deem it worth a full-scale invasion. One they'd clearly been planning for a while, as the assault began with an uprising of heretofore unknown cultists hidden among the civilian population and the Planetary Defence Forces.
Interestingly, the traitor units among the PDF didn't include the garrison of the spaceport. Instead, most of that force had simply abandoned their posts and fled at the first word of the approaching enemy. Yurusenai. The fact that their retreat required them to run straight into the enemy vanguard could probably be said to be inga balancing the scales. Certainly it bought us a little more time to prepare.
The traitor fleet sent down an initial force of dropships and landers, but no more have since followed. Presumably the Imperial Navy has proven more of a challenge than the enemy anticipated and has disrupted any further landings.
Following the shattering of the command bunker, I, Captain Asakura Tomoe, as the highest ranking officer left alive on the scene, am apparently the next in line to command fifty thousand guardsmen against what must be at least half again as many traitors. Sho ga nai.
First things first: inform the junior officers of the regiments that I'm the only one left in a position to do the job and that I'm taking charge. So far it's...not going well.
"Like hell I'm going to follow the orders of some up-jumped tayuu." snarls Lieutenant Nakano, leader of a platoon from the 39th's 3rd Company, 1st Battalion, 2nd Brigade.
We're standing outside the remains of the bunker. Upon my entering the adjacent courtyard, the situation was complete mayhem. With the entire command structure currently under a pile of twisted rubble, organization within the regiments had effectively devolved entirely to the platoon level. Lieutenants and sergeants either shouted orders to their men with no sense of coherent purpose, or else stood around not even pretending they had any idea what to do. Step one was to send out runners to bring as many of the nearest platoon officers here as possible to inform them of my assumption of command. An argument could be made that I risked a repeat of Tanaka's folly, but given the circumstances I chose the most expedient course of action. Meanwhile I'd directed Fuuka to round up every vox operator she could find and begin making contact with as many companies as possible.
Right now I'm surrounded on all sides by a milling crowd of troopers and junior officers from all six regiments. Immediately behind me stands the command platoon of my own onna-bushi company. In the distance the sound of explosions and the varied snaps, cracks, and bangs of assorted las, stubber, and bolter fire can be heard. We don't have time for these bureaucratic games.
"I'm the next in the chain of command, lieutenant." I say calmly, ignoring Nakano's frankly pathetic attempt at an insult. During my previous brief interactions with him he'd struck me as a disagreeable sort. That earlier verdict is currently being confirmed.
"You're not and you know it! Have you and your little band of maiko ever even been off world before?"
"Otanomoushimasu, arsehole." Shizuka mutters from off to the side. I groan internally. Being from one of Chuoko's many hanamachi districts, she'd clearly taken particular offence. This isn't helping.
"What was that, kisama busu?!"
Rather odd combination of phrasing, that. Anyway, okay, time to put a stop to this.
"Urusai! Enough! The other surviving commanders are tied up in holding the line. I am taking command of the defence. If you won't accept that, we'll refer the issue to the kenpeitai."
All Taiyoukeian eyes now turn to a clearly overwhelmed Junior Commissar Mayoi. Poor kid, I'm sure he didn't wake up this morning expecting to have to play kingmaker. His previous duties didn't extend much beyond paperwork. I think at one point I had heard something about him wanting to be a kokutai scholar, before the Schola Progenium selected him for the Commissariat.
"Well?" Nakano snapped. "What's it going to be boy?"
"I...", Mayoi stammers. Everyone in the crowd stares at him expectantly, including those from the non-Taiyoukeian regiments, whose eyes have by now followed those of my countrymen. Though the gaijin can't follow the language of the debate, the gist of the issue is obvious to all.
"Boku wa..." Mayoi stammers out again, before his expression changes and he corrects himself. Clearly he's finally stumbled on some element of inner resolve. "No, ore wa...rather, the Commissariat, will back Captain Asakura's claim, and acknowledges her temporary assumption of the authority of a Colonel. Any who continue to dispute the issue will be considered guilty of treason and subject to summary execution."
He says Colonel, but thinking about this further, wouldn't being in command of multiple regiments technically make me a Major General? Wakaranai; kinishinai.
"You can't be serious." Nakano sneers.
"Hold!" I shout as Mayoi begins to reach for his laspistol.
I turn to Nakano. "If you're seeking death, I can give you the chance at an honourable one in combat."
His eyes narrow.
"Regardless of what you may assume about onna-bushi, I have no intention of simply cowering behind the walls of the port. I intend to make a spirited defence with all the means at my disposal."
"With no chain of command left?"
"We'll piece it back together as we go. Starting with you. I'm field promoting you to Captain and placing you in command of the 3rd Company."
"Can you even do that? Self-appoint a higher rank and then give out field promotions?"
We both glance at Mayoi. He throws his hands up. "This whole situation is...unusual. The regulations aren't entirely clear given the circumstances."
I return my gaze to Nakano. I already regret this; he doesn't remotely have the temperament for company command, but I don't have the luxury of time to find someone better, and I need him on my side.
"I need officers. Do you want the job or do I find another 3rd company platoon leader?"
"...fine."
"Good. Coordinate with my chief vox operator. She's temporarily set up in the southeast storage room. Inform your company that you're taking command, then get a sitrep from all of your platoons."
Nakano, begrudgingly, I think, salutes and leaves.
I turn to the crowd. "Ai amu komando...teking...". The crowd stares blankly. Someone in the back coughs.
Kuso. I always was hopeless at speaking foreign languages. Oh, I can read Gothic fine, but my pronunciation is incomprehensible. How the language sounds in my head and how it sounds in practice bear almost no resemblance to each other. For that matter, I find how gaijin insist on speaking their language nearly as unintelligible. And of course all the official regimental translators were killed along with the rest of the staff officers.
"Kaneshiro, where's trooper Kaneshiro?", I call out to my entourage. She's the one who had always had an ear for Low Gothic, wasn't she?
A young woman, short even by Taiyoukeian standards, and with, somewhat abnormally, brown hair, steps forward.
"Here, Capt-, ah, Colonel. It's read Kanagusuku by the wa-"
"Midori, was it?" I interrupt.
"Emerald."
"...nani?"
"It's written Midori, but it's pronounced Emerald, Colonel. Eh-mi-ra-ru-do."
My brain completely stalls for a second.
"...fine, whatever. Stick with me, you're translating today."
"Ah, hai!"
I return my attention to the crowd, slowly turning in a complete circle as I speak.
"I am taking command of the defense. As of now my authority is that of a colonel. The Commissariat has endorsed my authority. Accept this, or you will be shot. Follow my orders, and you might survive. All enlisted men are to return to their platoons, and all platoons to their companies. All first platoon lieutenants are hereby field promoted to the rank of captain and given command of their companies. Defer command of your former platoons as you see fit. You have fifteen minutes to inform your men and to get their situation reports via vox. You are then to return to your companies, where you will organize your chains of command as best as you can in short order, with the exception of the captain of each first company. These are promoted to command of their parent regiment. We're forgoing the battalion and brigade layers entirely; there's no time to organize them. These new regiment commanders are to report back to me in twenty minutes in the- is the command tent set up yet? No, don't bother translating this part. It is? Fine. In the command tent to the west of the bunker. These orders will be transmitted to those not present immediately after this. Dismissed."
Eme...Emi? No, there are already two Emi's in the company...Midori, stumbles slightly in her translating.
"...to those not present...er...presently. Dismissed."
A few in the crowd immediately leap into action, but most stand around stunned. Some of them have just jumped multiple ranks to command of thousands of troopers. None of us have time for this.
"Hayaku shite!" I shout. "Mubu!" The crowd snaps out of its stupor and scatters.
Two minutes later we're in the improvised vox station set up inside the storage room. Natsuki has just finished repeating my orders over the vox, and I've just informed Fuuka she has to move all her equipment for the second time this morning, this time to the command tent. She is visibly displeased by this. Gomennasai, Yamagishi-san. Sho ga nai.
Now I have command. The Taiyoukeian troops clearly aren't happy about it, but will accept it for now. The gaijin regiments seem much more sanguine about the whole affair.
Step two: find out what the hell the battlefield situation is.
We're standing around a large table inside the command tent. 'We' being myself and the four other newly promoted regiment commanders, a scattering of similarly newly promoted staff officers, and Midori for translation.
The battlenet is trashed, with the entire central cogitator stack having been taken out along with the command bunker. Fortunately, someone was able to find a physical map in an untouched storeroom inside what's left of the bunker. So at least we have some sense of geography.
From what Fuuka has been able to pull from the vox however, we can forget air support or reinforcements any time soon. Every orbital asset is currently engaged with the traitor fleet, including the squadron of Taiyoukeian escorts that accompanied our transports to Zaebasha Epsilon, which have been retasked as a mobile force. Every outer system picket vessel has also been recalled, and 60% of Naval assets in nearby systems are being redirected from their existing deployments to the Zaebasha system. Our job is to hold out until they can arrive.
Based on the sitreps trickling in from the companies, the enemy is pressing hard against the outskirts to the northwest of the port. Most heavily against four companies of the Munisipice Fusiliers, who have been holding the enemy back for almost two hours. But they're light infantry, and have already sustained extreme casualties. The conventional strategy would be to relieve them with heavier troops. But then what? Merely delaying the inevitable by continuously throwing troops into the meat grinder isn't going to cut it here; we don't have the numbers or firepower for a drawn out, stand up fight. 'Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.' We need to blunt this traitor assault in a meaningful way if we're to have any hope of buying enough time for the fleet to send us reinforcements. Assuming the fleet can win its own battle, of course. Best not to think about that variable.
So, terrain: the spaceport is at the top of a mountain, which makes a kind of sense. The mountain is an extinct (or at least I hope it's extinct anyway) volcanic caldera, which makes less sense. I wonder which Mechanicus Adept signed off on building a spaceport in a hole at the top of a hill? Though I have to admit it does seem to confer substantial defensive advantages. To the south and east the edges of the caldera are nearly sheer, so little risk of assault from those directions. To the north the slope is steep, but climbable; the enemy can assault up it if they must, but it won't be ideal for them. They'll prefer the more gradual incline that the main road follows to the west. Sort of obvious, since that's what they're currently attempting to force.
Beyond the slopes, relatively flat land where the enemy is currently setting up their siege infrastructure and staging their formations. Once finished they'll be able to simply send one unit after another in until we break, while their super heavy guns demolish us from a distance and we have no ability to respond. The destruction of the command bunker was wrought by a single shell fired from just one siege gun. The accuracy of such weapons is generally poor; as mentioned earlier that was a lucky shot, or perhaps one guided by darker forces. But a battery of them wouldn't need much in the way of accuracy to hit the walls.
As I look at the map I can see the entire battle ahead, and its inevitable conclusion. Not because of some extreme military prowess or foresight on my part. But because I've seen it all before. Or, well, read about it anyway. When you're in charge of a largely ceremonial unit whose regular duties don't extend much beyond feeding and grooming oversized deer, you have a lot of downtime. The Imperium has a vast array of histories, studies, war journals, and after action reports available to its officers for study. Given how sparsely populated the libraries and cogitator terminals always seemed to be when I visited them, it seems these resources are seldom utilized. Oh well. 'Fools learn from experience; the wise learn from history', as some dead Jermani reprobate or other supposedly once said.
This exact scenario, or ones nearly like it, has played out thousands of times before, on as many worlds. On-ko-chi-shin.
Specifically my mind turns to the fate of the Cadian 879th, butchered to the last man while bravely 'holding the line' on Pytanix, holding out for a relief force that never came.
The spaceport defences cannot hold. They simply can't. Without reinforcements the walls will be breached, and the garrison slaughtered. Relief could come from the fleet above before that happens, but that possibility can't be relied on. In fact it would be utterly irresponsible to do so. 'Hope for the best, prepare for the worst', as it says in the Imperial Munitorum Manual that apparently no one but me bothers to read. If the enemy finishes their preparations and can bring up their heavy equipment, we all die.
So don't let them finish. But how to stop them? Between our slowly buckling perimeter and their staging ground must be at least what, seventy thousand traitors already in or heading for the attack. At least this vanguard seems to mostly be the more rabid and disorganized insurgent troops. They've sent the rabble in first as fodder, so we have that to our advantage.
Obviously we have no time, much less the ability, to work out a carefully calculated strategy. No elegant joint operation execution formulated OPLAN. Whatever we do it'll be clunky and unrefined.
A sudden assault right into their teeth could work, if we had enough heavy armour...which we don't. Well, what do we have? Fortunately Kaede was able to find me a complete deployment manifest, in Taiyoukeian. The most relevant bits are:
Yamatainaian 39th: 20 Scylla Light Tanks
40 Taurox Armoured Personnel Carriers
40 Kokusan Armored Cars
160 Kyuho Mortars
72 Teppo Howitzers
110 Type 97 AT Guns
650 Siwa Mounted Cavalry, including my 130 women.
Hofun 401st: 30 Chimedon Assault Vehicles
50 Taurox Armoured Personnel Carriers
60 Kokusan Armored Cars
180 Kyuho Mortars
48 Teppo Howitzers
96 Type 97 AT Guns
Hiyokunan 62nd: 60 Taurox Armoured Personnel Carriers
40 Kokusan Armored Cars
1,560 Siwa Mounted Cavalry
120 Kyuho Mortars
72 Type 97 AT Guns
767th Munisipice: 120 Salamander Scout Vehicles
36 Scout Sentinels
360 Chimera Armoured Personnel Carriers
90 Light Mortars
223rd Carnelian: 30 Salamander Scout Vehicles
48 Armoured Sentinels
80 Leman Russ Battle Tanks
120 Chimera Armoured Personnel Carriers
48 Griffon Heavy Mortar Carriers
24 Basilisk Heavy Self-propelled Artillery
Veru 361st: 40 Salmander Scout Vehicles
240 Chimera Armoured Personnel Carriers
96 Lampago Light Mortar Carriers
Though, I made sure to remind myself, from the above remove 130 riders, because Captain Higashi's patrol hasn't been heard from since the start of the invasion. Regrettably, he and his men are likely already dead.
Not to mention Tarantula sentry guns in both heavy bolter and lascannon variants; 500 of them all told between the various regiments.
And the wall guns, 155mm mounts...naruhodo. Oh, not in the manifest, obviously; the spaceport wasn't where any of us were to be posted. The garrison duty was assigned to one the PDF regiments who up and fled. But I'm also not blind. The wall guns are the key. The best offence is a good defence, is it?
Well, here goes. I give my first battle order: "Alert the Fusureri...Fusu... the hinawaju, to begin preparations to pull out."
"We're abandoning the front line?" asks Colonel Kest of the 767th.
"No, not the whole thing. Just the main road. Agario, order the Carnelian 2nd company up to cover the pull back. They won't be staying long; the 767th already have many wounded, and they'll need time to retreat. The second the evacuation is complete, the 2nd will also pull back. They will move to join with the Munisipice 5th, 7th, and 8th, along with the PDF garrison units that didn't flee, as well as the Hofun 401st's anti-tank elements, in defensive positions outside the main gate."
"You want us to abandon the high ground of the perimeter?"
"Yes."
"Will we at least have a covering artillery barrage? Smoke?"
"Not on the final pull out, no. I want the enemy to clearly see the retreat and pursue it without hesitation."
"And what's stopping them from spreading to their flanks and enveloping the rest of our line from the rear? My men will be completely exposed." Kest clearly isn't enthused by my plan.
"I'm counting on the enemy being ill-disciplined fanatics and remaining focused on the 'fleeing' enemy before them." I hope Midori can convey my tone adequately.
"And retreating helps us how, exactly?" Colonel Yamashita of the 401st interjects. Altogether a much more reasonable man than Nakano, but still clearly not pleased to be taking orders from a woman. "I know you onna-bushi love your walls, but I say we counter-attack."
"I agree. And this is how our counter-attack starts."
"Uh, does someone want to explain what's going on?" says Colonel von Henvik of the Veru 361st. What? Shit. Yamashita and I had been speaking in Taiyoukeian.
Midori, obviously unsure if she should be translating this one-on-one conversation, hadn't, leaving the gaijin colonels with nothing to do but stare blankly.
"Midor-"
"Emerald."
"Kaneshiro! If you would, please. Arigatou. The reverse slope is the perfect killing ground. If we clearly retreat we can lure a large number of the enemy quickly into range of the wall guns, which, along with the deployed units, will be able to hold them for a while."
"The wall guns are something, but the Fusiliers are light infantry. And those Type 97s of yours are of limited effectiveness."
"They'll have to do. Because we'll need our heavier units for the next stage."
"So you're knowingly condemning many of my men to die?" says Kest.
"If that's what is required, yes. If we continue as we are now we all die anyway. Now, if I may continue? Thank you. After we lure the enemy in we hit behind a portion of their vanguard with a creeping barrage of every artillery piece we can muster, in order to separate a sizable section of their assault from the rest of the body. Afterwards, the Beru 36-"
"Veru." Midori corrects me.
Help me. Is this going to be a recurring thing with her?
"Beh...lu."
"Veh-ru."
Shizukani, anata wa hidoi senohikui josei, I think with exasperation. I make sure not to say this out loud, of course. Honne and tatemae, and all that.
I resume where I had left off. "...the 361st goes in with all of its Chimeras loaded with every Tarantula turret they can carry and rapidly deploys them in the gap along the ridgeline created by the artillery."
"And what will stop the rest of their vanguard from simply swarming this newly planted turret line?"
"The fact that they'll be too busy being slaughtered by our all out assault. A third of every company holding the trenches will turn inward to reinforce the turret line and help contain the enemy there, while the remaining men will advance. They'll be joined by every trooper, vehicle, and mount we can muster, which will be massed behind the front on the extreme right."
"You want us to assault THAT?!" Agario shouts in disbelief.
"Their numbers are large, yes, but the enemy has yet to bring up their best troops. We're still mostly fighting a mob. If we hit them now we still have a chance of punching through to their landing zone and disrupting their main deployment."
"And you plan to do this with an incomplete chain of command slapped together on the fly?"
"'The obstacle is the path.'"
"Is that one of your inscrutable native sages?" sneers Kest.
"No, it's one of yours." That seems to bring him up short. "Look, this is very simple: we either succeed or we die. We have no other options. Either the men and officers rise to the challenge, or they don't."
Thinking quickly, I add.
"If it makes you feel better I can put this in 'native sage' terms: yuu-oh-mai-shin."
"...eto-"
"No, Kaneshiro, don't even bother."
"You seem awfully certain that our defences can't hold, or that the fleet won't be able to come to our aid. Some would consider that heresy." says Agario. Fuzaken janee yo? Furaku bakayarou.
"Because the defences can't hold." I say flatly, managing to restrain myself. "Objectively, they can't. It's simple arithmetic and logistics. As for the fleet, I'm in no doubt that they'll turn the tide, eventually, and send forces to relieve the planet. The issue is will we still be alive when they do. And if we aren't, not only is that bad for us, but it means the Imperium will have been deprived of a vital port, which will make resecuring the planet that much harder for the Navy and the Guard. For now, the only responsible course of action is to act on the assumption that we are our only hope."
I'm met with a wall of silence in response.
von Henvik finally speaks up. "I'll note that you seem to be putting trust in the walls and the wall guns for your plan."
"Only if we enact it soon. They'll serve against the enemy vanguard, but won't hold if they're able to bring up their main force and their heavy siege equipment. Look, we either hit them first, and hard, or they grind us into dust. And if we don't hit them soon, we won't have the weight to break through their reinforced mass." Tamerai taiteki.
Finally, Kest sighs. "Agreed."
I eye the others. One by one they assent.
"And one more thing." I add. "Agario: don't you ever question my loyalty to the Kohi again. Dismissed."
After they leave I turn to Tamako. "Alert the company to begin preparations to move out."
"Taisa?"
"It's all hands on deck for this one. If we depart soon we'll likely be able to join the fight just behind the first wave of armour. Fuuka you're the only one staying, to relay as clear a picture of events over the vox as you can."
"Understood." She's clearly not happy about being left behind.
Agario isn't wrong. It is too complex a plan, with too many moving parts and variables. Too many obvious points of potential failure. It's the type of thing you would normally only attempt with regiments that have had weeks or months to practice together beforehand. But there's no time for any of that. We go now, or not at all. So we went.
The first part of the plan, the feigned retreat, essentially went off without a hitch. The enemy also obligingly took the bait. The decapitating artillery barrage also, more or less, worked. It wasn't the most coherent affair; not every gun fired in reasonable unison, but it got the job done. It was when it came time for the turret deployment that things started to go wrong. Fully fifty of the Chimeras were lost when they misjudged the timing of the conclusion of the barrage and drove right into a not yet fully concluded bombardment. But the remainder made it through, dodging the wreckage of the first wave of APCs to deploy their turrets amid the dust kicked up by the assault and the newly smoking wreckage. If anything, the smoke added to their concealment, I suppose.
With the enemy vanguard at least temporarily neutralized, there was only one real step left. By this point the entire company was on the move, pausing just long enough that I could relay via Natsuki's bulky backpack vox unit back to Fuuka for transmission to the entire field.
"Imperial assault force: attack like lightning!"
The vox reports gave a grim impression of events after that, though it was only much later that I would learn from the detailed AAR just how fraked parts of the attack had gone. Some companies advanced too soon and were torn to shreds. Others missed the launch signal and went too late, attempting to cross the field without support on their flanks. Some never got out of their trenches at all. A company of the Hofun's assault vehicles quickly got bogged down in an armour duel and were effectively removed from the greater fight. But enough advanced that it worked. The enemy second tier elements, suddenly deprived of their vanguard, hadn't been expecting to directly engage in combat so suddenly, especially not from their flank.
The 223rd Carnelian in particular made a frankly glorious account of themselves. Leman Russ tanks aren't super heavy armour; they generally aren't expected to lead this kind of charge entirely by themselves, at least not when there are so few of them. But that day they did. They punched a hole right through the enemy mass, though it cost them dearly; as we advanced behind their spear tip we traveled through a wasteland of burnt out wreckage and corpses, a twisted mix of both traitor and Imperial. The field was a nightmare. Unit cohesion broke down quickly in the chaos of battle, especially as the battalion and brigade organizational layers were entirely absent. We had an advantage in that the enemies coordination, likely never having had much coherence to begin with, degraded even more as they came under unexpected assault.
After the initial breakthrough, there were no detailed objectives. My orders for after the charge had been extremely basic and straightforward: advance on the enemy landing zones, with the principle objective being to eliminate the enemy siege guns. Either by smashing the control mechanisms, spiking the barrels, or simply igniting as much of the ammo stores as possible. Beyond that, soldiers were free to destroy anything they could find. Green smoke signals were to be fired upon destruction of something important, at the discretion of individual unit commanders.
As we approach the main enemy landing zone, I disburse my company as platoons, with instructions to spread as much damage as possible. I keep 4th platoon and the command squad with me, and begin hunting for the enemy command post. It isn't particularly hard to find; the huge blood soaked banner hanging from a giant humanoid shaped skeleton made of assorted human and animal bones attached to the roof of a rusting, crudely assembled modular structure is something of a clue. The relative skill and quality of equipment of the guards outside is another.
It's an even enough fight, at first. Until from out of the smoke a hulking giant with a goat's head emerges. I let out a heavy, resigned sigh.
"Subarashi. They have a beastman."
"Ajin-tachi." Yuko corrects me, as two more giants emerge, flanking the first. It's clear at a glance that we're on our own, the other onna-bushi squads, as well as several other Imperial units whose neighboring combats have begun to spill over into our area, all being fully occupied with cultists and traitor guard. The rest of the squad can sense what is coming and is already spreading out in formation.
"Right." I say, extending my naginata in a kuridashi anti-cavalry stance. Given the size of the enemies, it seems the most appropriate style. Training never covered this kind of scenario specifically.
"Let's get to it. Meirei shotai: totsugeki!"
It went about as well as could be expected, I suppose. Three dead: Natsuki, Yuko, and Tomoyo. Four more injured, two critically; Erika losing an arm. I got off with just losing an eye and receiving a diagonal scar across my face. In exchange all three beastman were killed, which actually doesn't seem that bad a ratio, all things considered.
After taking the slash to the face I blacked out for a while. Feeling like your entire head has been split in half can do that to you.
After we, well, my squad, had dispatched his trio of beastmen, the enemy commander himself had come out, accompanied by a further two of the hulking monsters, intending to finish off the now crippled Imperial unit. At that point Yanikawa Airi and what was left of her 3rd squad arrived, backed up a handful of troopers from the Veru 361st. There was some dispute about who actually landed the killing blow on the enemy leader, but Airi and Haneko eventually agreed to share credit. I missed the whole thing.
Eventually I regained consciousness to find a medic standing over me, with what appeared to be the remainder of my command company nearby. There seemed to be a lot fewer of them than just a few hours ago. Just off to the left a pair of Chimera APCs were unleashing furious suppression fire at a target I couldn't make out. Once I'd regained my bearings enough I was able to start comprehending the reports being made to me.
"Ushinawa reta mono ka?" I ask.
"No way to tell, but they must be heavy. Units are scattered everywhere, and most we've been able to contact have been badly mauled. Vox is a mess, but we've been receiving a steady stream of units claiming successful destruction of vital targets."
Smoke signals too, as more and more green plumes filled the sky.
The enemy commander was dead, and the super heavy guns were either mostly or maybe even entirely out of commission, with a great deal of other damage to the enemy infrastructure besides. Mission successful; the spaceport was safe.
But as for us...the enemy was in complete disarray, but our forces were shredded, and we were in the heart of the enemy camp. Eventually the foe would recover and begin to piece itself back together. We'd punched a hole straight through the enemy mob, but it had been in service of a mad dash to the enemy landing fields. Most of the enemy forces were still intact and in the field. There were klicks between us and the walls of the port, and I was in no condition to be commanding anything.
It's a good thing then, that as I was giving the order to dispatch couriers to begin rallying units that couldn't be recalled via vox, Captain Higashi chose that moment to arrive on the scene. Later I would learn the full story, that his training patrol had escaped the initial enemy assault, and that they'd been creeping around the edges of the enemy host, picking off stragglers while waiting for a chance to inflict some real damage. Unusually circumspect for someone who tries to maintain some form of bastardised hageboku ideals; usually they're overeager to throw their lives away in some glorious affirmation of their 'honour'.
Seeing the enemy camp burning around us, he didn't bother to dispute my claim to leadership, though he offered his services in commanding the withdrawal, an offer I took him up on, being in no condition to do it myself. All in all he managed the task admirably, getting the remainder of the Imperial force back to the safety of the walls, picking up scattered units along the way, with only another 10% or so losses.
Once inside there was little more the enemy could do to us. Without their siege equipment the walls and guns were effectively immune to any assault they could muster. It would be another week before the Imperial fleet finally gained the upper hand in orbit and a relief force was landed.
The final tally was brutal. Across all of the forces involved in the attack there had been 46% total casualties, dead and wounded combined. The 401st took the worst of it, suffering nearly 70% losses. That was it for them then. Completely combat ineffective until massively replenished, but with that much of the core of the Regiment destroyed the normal course of action would be for the Munitorum to simply disband the formation.
It would take command a while to sort out what had happened, but once they did, and after the ceremony to remember the many dead, among them Colonel von Henvik and Captain Nakano, what was left of the regiments were loaded onto transports. I don't know what the fate of the three gaijin regiments will be, but it's been made clear to me that the 39th, 401st, and 62nd are to return to the Taiyoukei system to be merged into a reformed and expanded regiment, under my command. Butcher a few tens of thousands of men, and they reward you for it. I've been given carte blanche to choose personnel and equipment, within reason. I'll at least be making Higashi my second in command.
But that's in the future. Right now I need to focus on figuring out my way around this new bionic eye. And a stiff drink.

Sorry in advance for the long post, I'm trying to tackle a variety of different issues and want to make sure I explain clearly.
My wife and I purchased an older home just over a year ago now. It has a pretty large 10x20 shed, with windows, a second floor, a subpanel with 2 breakers, etc. The shed was built ~20-25 years ago by the original owner. However, for 9 years prior to us purchasing the home there was another owner who just let everything go and did zero upkeep.
I like to think I'm relatively handy, and repairing this shed would be a good opportunity to learn some new skills that's much 'lower stakes' than my primary residence. Here's a gallery of a few pictures showing the problem spots. https://postimg.cc/gallery/zHgMsV4
There's some obvious rot on the sheathing, soft enough to stick a screwdriver straight through so I'm going to need to tear that off and repair, there's some holes where critters have gotten in, I plan to patch and probably spray foam / caulk. Let me know if I'm going down the wrong path here, but those seem pretty 'straightforward'. I may bite the bullet and just re-side the whole shed because we're not in love with the look of it anyway and you can also see the doors and other areas are rotting.
What I'm more conflicted about are three other issues.
1) The consistent dampness of the floor in certain spots. There's some mold on the underside of the second floor too, the wood seems structurally sound, no softness or bounciness. The topside of the second floor shows little to no water damage and the roof sheathing above it looks fine too. So maybe it's a condensation / ventilation problem, or ground moisture. I'm in the Mid-Atlantic of the US, so hot humid summers and cold sometimes snowy winters.
I was planning to spray the mold down well with cleaning vinegar, let it sit, and then scrub it. I was thinking I should take up some floorboards and see what's going on, I'm pretty sure it was just built over dirt, with no vapor barrier put down. Assuming the joists are still good should I just take up the floor and put a vapor barrier on top of the joists and put the old floor back (or swap to treated plywood?) or should I dig out the ground underneath so there's more distance and put a barrier under the joists.
2) The rotting bottom plate, bottle jacks are pretty cheap, should I just jack that side of the shed up like a half an inch to slide in a new plate?
3) There is a clear roof leak and some water damage. I was planning to attempt to re-roof this myself but as you can see it's a 12/12 pitch which is sketchy af. I have a neighbor who has ladder jacks and scaffolding, so I was thinking to try that, or since the area is relatively small, make a small patch repair to seal the leak for now, not replace the sheathing and worry about the rest of the roof when I'm either more comfortable or just hire a professional.
If you've made it this far, I appreciate it and would love any and all advice, criticism, watch outs, etc.!

I am hoping someone here might be able to help regarding the height of a conservatory roof.
(I live in Scotland, Angus and the council won't answer the phone)
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The internet seems to have conflicting information - which of these is true regarding a conservatory roof?

• It must be 3m or less from the ground to the eaves of your conservatory
• It must be 3m or less from the ground to the highest point of your conservatory roof

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Also:

• The eaves of the conservatory roof must not be higher than the eaves of the existing roof
• The highest point of the conservatory roof must not be higher than the eaves of the existing house roof

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The reason I ask is I live in a cottage bungalow where the eaves of the house are only just higher than 2m and I'd really rather not build a flat roof. It doesn't leave a lot of room for sloping.
Ideally I'd like the conservatory to have a pitched roof built into the existing house roof, but even a pitched roof independent of the house roof would be good.
Can anyone shed some light on this?
​
Yours hopefully
Wardie
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​

GARFIELD

STRENGTH

• smacks a spider flat
  
• WHOPs jon
  
• fucks up a person using jon's ball bearings
  
• flattens
  
• dug a tiger trap
  
• hurts both of jon's feet
  
• eats a bird and stomps a bug
  
• rips a newspaper in half
  
• ate a fish
  
• ate a fuck ton of fish
  
• kicks odie off a table
  
• kicks odie into the air
  
• kicks odie off a table again
  
• [anti-feat] loses a arm wrestling content to a fucking mouse
  
• with a newspaper, flattens a spider
  
• with a newspaper, flattens another spider
  
• throws nermal threw a door
  
• smashes a cookie jar over jon's head
  
• threatens to remove jon's arms
  
• lol
  
• WHOMPS a spider flat
  
• carries a fuck ton of chirstmas lights on himself
  
• damaged the neighborhood
  
• ate a canary
  
• carries a squirrel
  
• has an entire fridge stuck between his teeth
  
• threw a birdbath threw a picture window
  
• ate a wax hamburger
  
• shoves a brush into jon's ears
  
• kicks odie off a table
  
• smashes a alarm clock with a mallet
  
• broke something
  
• with a saw, cuts a hole in the floor
  
• BOOT
  
• bats away a ball of yarn
  
• owww
  
• kicks odie off the table
  
• hurts jon by biting him
  
• eats a bird
  
• hurts a dude with a single claw
  
• hurts jon by WHOPing him
  
• hits a golf ball far away with a golf club, the ball then hurting odie
  
• hurts jon by smacking him
  
• eats a bird house
  
• carries a giant fork
  
• hurts jon by kicking him
  
• eats two birds
  
• eats two birdsss
  
• eats a songbird
  
• makes a really big snowball
  
• fucks up jon so hard that cartoonist refuses to show it
  
• kicks odie so hard it cracks a wall
  
• eats a bird
  
• poings odie's nose away
  
• flings a spider by pulling on the spider's mask
  
• kicks odie off the table
  
• kicks away odie
  
• stays horizontal while on flocked wallpaper
  
• eats part of his cat bed
  
• smacks a spider flat using gift wrap
  
• shreds a present into bits
  
• throws a ball so hard it goes to the end of odie's tail
  
• opens up a pickle jar that jon is unable to open
  
• shoves jon to the ground
  
• with a newspaper, squishes a fuck ton of spiders
  
• holds up a stick that has 8 sticks and a marshmellow
  
• pushes a chair that odie is on
  
• eats a fish
  
• holds up a big ass hacksaw
  
• eats a bird
  
• holds 7 donuts on his tounge
  
• blows a party streamer through jon's head
  

DURABILITY

• survives a really big dog falling on top of him
  
• survives a big ass dog grabbing his head
  
• survives a turtle biting his tail
  
• survives a big ass dog falling on top of him
  
• ouch
  
• who the hell is this dog
  
• why is he blue
  
• what
  
• door
  
• eats a brownie that has god damn mold growing on it
  
• survives dogs beating him up
  
• rip garifled's tail
  
• survives being punched in the face by a dog
  
• kicks odie into the air, only for odie to land on him
  
• TRAP DOOR DOG
  
• survived falling into a pit of angry monkeys
  
• survives being in a room thats so cold that water very quickly turns into ice
  
• survives running into a invisible wall
  
• survives being fucked up by a dog
  
• survives stone letters of his own name falling on top of him
  
• survives sitting on a mouse trap
  
• survives jon's keys
  
• survives falling asleep on the screen door
  
• survives a chandelier falling on top of him
  
• survives being hit on the head by a heart box
  
• survives being fucked up by a really giant dog
  
• beware of dog sign
  
• survives odie and his shoes
  
• survives a pineapple to the head
  
• survives a sign falling on him
  
• survives odie landing on him
  
• surives being flattend by a spider
  

SPEED

• eats his food while the reader blinks
  
• hits with a newspaper the world's second fastest spider
  
• dodges a shoe
  
• smacks two flies flat
  
• changes the channel before the e word can be said
  
• eats so fast that it makes his teeth hot
  
• eats a burger so fast that you would need to slow down the strip itself just to see it
  
• eats a cookie before jon can finish his sentence
  

AGILITY

• is basically reed richards
  
• all this
  
• ewwwwww
  
• hangs onto a screen door
  
• woah
  
• moves his arm around the letters of his own name
  
• jesus
  

ENDURNACE

• stood outside for several days while waiting for a snowman to melt

OTHER

• has a match
  
• has a mirror
  
• sheds so much it creates a giant pile
  
• can unleash hair balls
  
• ate a magical wish granting donut
  
• respects the funnies part of the newspaper
  
• his grumpiness is infections
  
• stole 15 howler monkeys from a zoo and put them in mrs. feeny's house
  
• has tape
  
• can't spell
  
• has laxative-laced bran muffins
  
• is so fat, he manages to be in 3 rooms at once
  
• suffers from hallonations when he is forced by jon to go on a diet
  
• has a car
  
• burps so loudly it knocks jon over
  
• has rubber arms
  
• his ears go into the air
  
• his feet can vote
  
• starts a car
  
• sheds cat fur everywhere but one spot
  
• did all these things
  
• BILLY BOOT
  
• has super sharp claws
  
• what the fuck
  
• can the bird people
  
• somehow his stomach goes "grrr"
  
• might able to juggle flaming chain saw blindfolded
  
• has hand puppets of odie and arlene
  
• reads war and peace and plays golf
  
• has a spacesuit
  
• has a pair of scissors
  
• wins a blinking contest against the reader of the comic
  
• has a pizza cutter
  
• has a bar code
  
• his foot has dreams
  
• has a dog disguise and inching powder
  
• ate the ghost of hamburgers past
  
• is so fat, him walking on a carpet makes a CLOP sound
  
• is a knight
  
• escaped from a place jon locked him in
  
• has a golf club
  
• has some big mirrors
  
• in 2003, around Garfield's 25 birthday, Garfield from 1978 somehow showed up and interacted with 2003 garfield
  
• has a mallet
  
• changes jon's hair
  
• is so fat, he legally can not cross some bridges
  
• is so fat, it knocks a tree down
  
• implied to have eaten this giant meatball
  
• sneezes so hard it causes his fur to do this
  
• sheded this much hair
  
• can talk to worms
  
• has the ghost of a rolled up newspaper, which apparently allows him to hurt the ghost of a spider
  
• Spiders in the Garfield-verse are strong enough to carry wallets that have pictures of 73,000 grandchildren
  
• has a saw
  
• turns off the water main
  
• Is Spongebob
  
• is a bad influence on the talking mice people
  
• has breath so bad, it causes paint to peel off
  
• has a magnifying glass
  
• has kitty tuna mints
  
• has a magazine on a stick
  
• with the tv remote, can affect the comic strip itself
  
• burps for four rooms
  
• is so fat, he broke whatever this is
  
• is so fat, he is classified as a small planet
  
• stole a petition
  
• is a cavemen that chisels his own name out of stone
  
• his ears come off after drinking coffie
  
• breaks the 4th wall
  
• has a mouse costume
  
• even he has some standards
  
• is a flower
  
• uhhh
  
• has a fishing pole with a bone tied around the string
  
• eats this
  
• has a bone that attracts a fuck ton of dogs
  
• can read mice books
  
• turns his Z cloud black
  
• is scared of empty grocery sacks
  
• will blot out the sun in 17 years due to how fat he is 2004
  
• is somehow able to tell that someone is eating bacon on the other side of the 4th wall
  
• is Harry Potter
  
• isn't scared by a ghost
  
• wat
  
• has a giant fork
  
• set up video surveillance to spy on jon wrapping chirstmas gifts
  
• implied to have killed someone
  
• has a spyglass
  
• fits breakfest, lunch, dinner, and snacks into his mouth at the same time
  
• manages to eat some pizza before it arrives
  
• "if a cat sneezes, it is a sign of rain"
  
• slept for 23 hours straight
  
• ate a phone
  
• stole the car keys from a pizza delivery dude
  
• fills a room with his shredded cat fur
  
• fills jon's bed with shreeded cat fur
  
• has bad breath
  
• a lightbulb appears over his head upon getting an idea
  
• ate 20 pounds of kitty litter
  
• stole odie's bone
  
• can play the trumpet
  
• claws a inflatable pool
  
• eats a light bulb
  
• tempered with someone's brakes
  
• eats a sweatsock
  
• chisels a big ass statue of himself
  
• stole santa's hat
  
• has a boat
  
• is a unscrambling pro
  
• burps so hard it triggers a car alarm
  
• gives gravity the middle finger
  
• talks to the reader of the comic
  
• GARFIELD EXPRESS
  
• has a airhorn
  
• ate a bunch of checkers circles
  
• somehow ate a bird through a cage
  
• gaslights a dog into thinking he has a bunch of illnesses
  
• can say upside down words
  
• has a acetylene torch
  
• swings a rope in a way that causes it to spell out his own name in the rope
  

JON

STRENGTH

• scarred someone as a teen
  
• pushes a cart thats filled with lots and lots of food
  
• hurts a bunch of people with a bowling ball
  
• digs up a fuck ton of things that odie buried
  
• opens the pickle jar
  
• eats his phone
  

DURABILITY

• survives being stuck in the wall for a while
  
• survives sitting on a bee
  
• survives being fucked up by one of his dates
  
• survives being attacked by a cuckoo clock
  
• as a kid, his family could not afford doctors, so they used natural remedies, such as kissing a chicken to cure cold sores
  
• survives being WHOPed by garfield
  
• survives being beaten up by Mrs. Feeny
  
• as a teen, survived someone breaking his jaw
  
• as a teen, survived someone putting a pompon up his nose
  
• survives licking a spark plug
  
• survives garfield hurting both of his feet
  
• ouch
  
• survives garfield hitting his hand with a boot
  
• survives garfield SCHLOPing him with odie's tounge
  
• is this a feat
  
• as a teen, survives a jock shoving a bishop up his nose
  
• survived being kicked in the head by a cow
  
• survived an electric fence
  
• survives garfield smashing a cookie jar over his head
  
• survives garfield knocking him over
  
• survives passing out after panting
  
• survives garfield putting a cup down his head
  
• uhhhhh
  
• what even happend to him
  
• survives squireels with weed wackers
  
• a bear trap
  
• survives his tie getting stuck in the bender
  
• survives being in a room so cold that water very quickly turns into ice
  
• survives falling off a cliff
  
• well that looks painful
  
• big oof
  
• survives garfield once again being a asshole to him
  
• has slipped on his banana peel slippers 64 times
  
• survives being gripped by his grandmother
  
• owwww
  
• survives garfield biting him
  
• survives garfield WHOPing him
  
• survives garfield smacking him
  
• ???
  
• survives garfiled kicking him
  
• survives the can opener
  
• ouch
  
• survives his family
  
• survives garfield fucking him up so badly the cartoonist refuses to show it
  
• survives falling off the roof
  
• survives weed wacking
  
• survives ironing his pants while he is wearing them
  
• hopefully survived a tree falling on top of him
  
• survives having a genoa salami shoved up his ear
  
• survives the inflatable pool he is in shrinking
  
• garfield pushes him to the ground
  
• survives being zapped by a bug zapper so hard, his back fillings became a radio somehow
  
• survives a automatic door
  
• staples papers to his head
  

SPEED

• runs away from killer moths
  
• according to himself, no one wraps presdents faster then him
  
• chases after a mouse
  
• dodged getting hit by a truck
  

OTHER

• has a outfit that makes him look mysterious
  
• stands next to a phone for so long that he grows a beard
  
• has a muscle bound mime costume
  
• has a suit that hurts garifled's eyes
  
• this is his full name
  
• MIGHT be able to cause people to fall asleep via telling stories about his boyhood on the family farm
  
• 200 moths committed suicide in his closet upon seeing his clothes
  
• has moose ears
  
• has hidden cameras
  
• has soul
  
• has a giant pair of sunglasses
  
• made a cow yawn
  
• counted to 17, 890
  
• according to himself, he can do animal impressions
  
• has a helmet
  
• has a squirting flower
  
• has a certificate of being officially bored
  
• his 1978 self somehow showed up in 2003 for garfield's 25 birthday
  
• has a light up tie
  
• has banana peel slippers
  
• glows upon hugging garfield and odie
  
• has a pencil
  
• his eyes come out of his eyeholes upon drinking coffie
  
• has a rake
  
• can cause women to flee in terror just by saying "hello"
  
• got both shoes on the same foot
  
• counted to 200 rings on a phone
  
• swallos a pitch pipe
  
• wat
  
• after not showering for 3 days, smells so bad it kills ferns
  
• has a disguise as a french waiter
  
• it took several decades of comics but he eventually got Liz to start dating him
  
• kills a plant by showing it his elbows
  

NICANDER, 'ALEXIPHARMACA' The Greek text of the 'Alexipharmaca' can be found on the Poesia Latina website.
Even though the peoples from whom you and I, Protagoras, have derived our births did not set up the walls of their strong towers side by side in Asia, and a great space separates us, yet I can easily instruct you in the remedies for those draughts of poison which attack men and bring them low. You indeed have made your home by the tempestuous sea beneath bossy Arctus, where are the caverns of Lobrinian Rhea and the place of the secret rites of Attes; while I dwell where the sons of the far-famed 10 Creusa divided among themselves the richest portion of the mainland, settling by the tripods of Apollo in Clarus.
You must, to be sure, learn of the aconite, bitter as gall, deadly in the mouth, which the banks of Acheron put forth. There is the abyss of the Wise Counsellor {Hades} whence few escape, and there the towns of Priolas fell crashing in ruins.
All the drinker's jaws and the roof of his mouth and his gums are constricted by the bitter draught, as it wraps itself about the top of the chest, crushing with evil choking the man in the throes of heartburn. The top of the belly is gripped with pain - 20 the swelling, open mouth of the lower stomach, which some call the 'heart' of the digestive vessel, others the 'receiver' of the stomach - and the gate is closed immediately upon the beginning of the intestines where a man's food in all its abundance is carried in. And all the while from his streaming eyes drips the moisture; and his belly sore shaken vainly throws up wind, and much of it settles below about his mid-navel; and in his head is a grievous weight, and there ensues a rapid throbbing beneath his temples, and with his eyes he sees things double, like a man at night overcome with unmixed wine. 30 And as when the Silens, the nurses of the horned Dionysus, crushed the wild grapes, and having for the first time fortified their spirits with the foaming drink, were confused in their sight and on reeling feet rushed madly about the hill of Nysa, even so is the sight of these men darkened beneath the weight of evil doom. This plant men call also Mouse-bane, for it utterly destroys troublesome, nibbling mice ; but some call it Leopard's-choke, since cowherds and goatherds with it contrive the death of those great beasts 40 amid the glades of Ida in the vale of Phalacra. Again they name it Woman-killer and Crayfish. And the deadly aconite flourishes amid the Aconaean mountains.
For one so poisoned gypsum to the weight of a handful will perhaps be a protection, if you draw thereto tawny wine in due measure with the gypsum reduced to fine powder - let it be a full cotyle of wine - and add stalks of wormwood, cutting them from the shrub, or of bright green horehound which they call Honeyleaf; administer also a shoot of the herbaceous, evergreen spurge-olive and rue, quenching in vinegar and honey 50 a red-hot lump of metal between the jaws of the fire-tongs, or dross of iron which the flame of the fire has separated within the melting-pot in the furnace; or sometimes just after warming in the fire a lump of gold or silver you should plunge it in the turbid draught. Or again you should take leaves, half a handful's weight, of the ground pine; or a dry sprig of pot marjoram from the hills, or cut a fresh spray of field basil, and cover them in four cyathi of honey-sweet wine. Or you may take some broth, still meaty and undiluted, made from a domestic fowl 60 when the forcible glow of the fire beneath the pot reduces the body to pieces. Also you should render down the fresh meat of an ox abounding in fat and satisfy the stomach to its full capacity with the soup. Again, sometimes you should pour the juice of balsam into some drops of milk from a young girl, or else into water, until the patient discharges from his throat the undigested food. Sometimes too you should cut out the curd from the stomach of the nimble beast that sleeps open-eyed {hare}, or of a fawn, and give it mixed in wine; at other times cast the roots of the purple mulberry into the hollow of a mortar, 70 bray them mingled with wine, and give them boiled in the labours of the bee. Thus may you ward off loathsome sickness though it threaten to master a man, and he may once again walk on unfaltering feet.
In the second place consider the hateful brew compounded with gleaming, deadly white lead whose fresh colour is like milk which foams all over when you milk it rich in the springtime into the deep pails. Over the victim's jaws and in the grooves of the gums is plastered an astringent froth, and the furrow of the tongue turns rough on either side, 80 and the depth of the throat grows somewhat dry, and from the pernicious venom follows a dry retching and hawking, for this is severe; meanwhile his spirit sickens and he is worn out with mortal suffering. His body too grows chill, while sometimes his eyes behold strange illusions or else he drowses; nor can he bestir his limbs as heretofore, and he succumbs to the overmastering fatigue.
Give the patient at once a cupful of oil of the Premadia- or Orchis- or Myrtle- olive, so that the stomach being lubricated may void the evil drug; 90 or else you may readily milk the udder's swelling teat and give it him; but skim the oily surface from the draught. And you may infuse sprigs or leaves of the mallow in fresh sap and dose the sufferer with as much as he can take. Or again pound sesame seeds and administer them also in wine; or else heat and cleanse in water the ashes of vine twigs, and strain the lye through the interstices of a newly woven basket, for this will retain the sediment. Moreover if you rub down the hard stones of the persea in gleaming olive oil, they will ward off injury - 100 the persea which once on a time Perseus, when his feet bore him from the land of Cepheus and he had cut off the teeming head of Medusa with his falchion, readily made to grow in the fields of Mycenae (it was a recent gift of Cepheus) on the spot where the scabbard-chape of his falchion fell, beneath the topmost summit of Melanthis, where a Nymph revealed to the son of Zeus the famed spring of Langeia. Or else you should break up in roasted barley the sap which congeals upon the frankincense bushes of Gerrha; also as helpful you should dissolve in warm water the tears from the walnut-tree or from the plum or those which ever drip in plenty on the elm-twigs, 110 and drops of gum, so that he may vomit up part of the poison, and part render wholesome as he yields to the hot water when the sweat moistens his body. And again he might sate himself with a meal which he has taken or with strong wine and so escape an inglorious death.
When a liquid smells of the corn-eating blister-beetle, that is to say, like liquid pitch, refuse it, for on the nostrils it weighs like pitch and in the mouth like freshly eaten berries of the juniper. Sometimes in a weak infusion these creatures produce a biting sensation upon the lips, 120 or again deep down about the mouth of the stomach; at other times the middle of the belly or the bladder is gnawed and seized with griping pains, while discomfort attacks men where the cartilage of the chest rests over the hollow of the stomach. And the victims are distressed in themselves: swooning delusions hold in bondage what is human in them, and the victim is brought down unexpectedly by pain, like the freshly scattered thistledown which roams the air and is fluttered by every breeze.
At times administer to the patient doses of pennyroyal mixed with river water, making a posset of them in a mug. 130 This was the rich draught of the fasting Deo; once with this did Deo moisten her throat in the city of Hippothoōn by reason of the unchecked speech of Thracian Iambe. At other times take from your pot and mix with the round seeds of flax a rich draught brewed from the head of a hog or of a lamb or from the horned head of a goat which you have but lately cut off, or even, maybe, from a goose, and give it until the man is sick; and let him by tickling his throat stir up in the gullet below the entire mass of polluted food still undigested. At times you should draw the fresh milk of a sheep in a clyster-pipe, 140 administer a clyster and so empty the useless faeces from the bowel. At another time a draught of creamy milk will help the sufferer; or you should lop the green tendrils of the vine when they are fresh-burdened with leaves and chop them up in grape-syrup; or take from crumbling soil the ever sting-shaped roots of scorpius and steep in the bees' produce. The plant grows high like asphodel but sheds its stalks when withered. Also you should take four drachmas' weight of Parthenian earth which Phyllis brings forth under her mountain-spurs, 150 the snow-white earth of the Imbrasus which a horned lamb first revealed to the Chesiad Nymphs beneath the rush-grown river-banks of snowcapped Cercetes. Or brew a drink of boiled-down must of twice that quantity, and into it shred some sprigs of rue, kneading the herbs with rose-oil, or sometimes soak it in iris-oil, which has often cured an illness.
If however a man thoughtlessly taste from loathsome cups a draught, deadly and hard to remedy, of coriander, the victims are struck with madness 160 and utter wild and vulgar words like lunatics, and like crazy Bacchanals bawl shrill songs in frenzy of the mind unabashed. To such a case you should administer a cupful of hedanian wine, 'Pramnian', unmixed, just as it gushed from the vat. Or cast a cupful of salt into water and let it dissolve. Or else you should empty the fragile egg of a chicken and mix with it the sea-foam upon which the swift petrel feeds. It is with this that it sustains life, and also meets its doom, when the fishermen's destructive children assail with their tricks the swimming fowl; and it falls into the boys' hands as it chases the fresh and whitening surge of foam. 170 Do you also draw from the bitter, violet-hued sea - the sea, which, with fire too, the Earth-Shaker has enslaved to the winds. For fire is vanquished by hostile blasts: the undying fire and the expanse of waters tremble before the north-west winds; though the unruly sea, swift to anger, lords it over ships and over the men who perish in it, while to the rule of the abhorred fire the forest is obedient. Again, common oil mingled with wine or a drink of grape-syrup mixed with snow will stay the pain, 180 what time the reapers with their pruning-hooks lop the heavy, wrinkled vintage of the hedanian and the psithian vine and crush it, while with a humming sound bees and the tree-wasp, wasps and buzzers from the hills fall upon the grapes and feast their fill of sweetness, and the mischievous fox ravages the richer clusters.
Take note too of the noxious draught which is hemlock, for this drink assuredly looses disaster upon the head bringing the darkness of night: the eyes roll, and men roam the streets with tottering steps and crawling upon their hands; 190 a terrible choking blocks the lower throat and the narrow passage of the windpipe; the extremities grow cold; and in the limbs the stout arteries are contracted; for a short while the victim draws breath like one swooning, and his spirit beholds Hades.
Give the patient his fill of oil or of unmixed wine until he vomit up the evil, painful poison ; or prepare and insert a clyster ; or else give him draughts of unmixed wine, or cut and bring him twigs of sweet bay or bay of Tempe 200 (this was the first plant to crown the Delphian locks of Phoebus) ; or else pound some pepper with nettle seeds and administer them, or again infuse wine with the bitter juice of silphium. Sometimes you may offer him a measure of scented iris-oil and silphium shredded in with gleaming oil. Also give him a draught of honey-sweet grape-syrup, and a foaming vessel of milk which you have slightly warmed over the fire.
There are even means of promptly averting the oppression caused by deadly arrow-poison, when a man is overcome with anguish from drinking it. First, his tongue begins to thicken from the root 210 and weighs upon the lips which are heavy and swollen about the mouth; he suffers from a dry expectoration, and his gums break open from the base. Often too his heart is smitten with palpitations, and it is his fate that all his wits are stunned and overthrown by the evil poison; and he makes bleating noises, babbling endlessly in his frenzy; often too in his distress he cries aloud even as one whose head, the body's master, has just been cut off with the sword; or as the acolyte with her tray of offerings, Rhea's priestess, appearing in the public highways on the ninth day of the month, raises a great shout with her voice, while the people tremble 220 as they hearken to the horrible yelling of the votary of Ida. Even so the man in his frenzy of mind bellows and howls incoherently, and as he glances sidelong like a bull, he whets his white teeth and foams at the jaws.
You must even bind him fast with twisted ropes and make him drunk with wine, with gentle force filling him to satiety even against his will; then force his gnashing teeth apart in order that under your mastering hand he may vomit up the deadly stuff. Or divide up and boil till soft over a bright fire the young gosling of a free-feeding goose; 230 you should also give him the wild fruit of the rough-barked apple-tree grown upon the hills after cutting off the inedible parts; or even those kinds that pertain to the fields, such as the spring seasons bring forth for girls to sport with; or again pear-quinces, or else the famed fruit of the grim Cydon, which Cretan torrents have fostered. Or sometimes, after sufficiently pounding all these with a mallet, you should soak them in water and then throw in some fresh and fragrant pennyroyal and stir in together with apple-pips. Also you may soak up some fragrant rose-oil or iris-oil into wool 240 and let it drip into his parted lips. Yet hardly may a man after countless sufferings at the end of many days launch with safety his unsteady steps, while his startled gaze roams this way and that. This is the poison with which the nomads of Gerrha and they who plough their fields by the river Euphrates smear their brazen arrow-heads. And the wounds, quite past healing, blacken the flesh, for the stinging poison of the Hydra eats its way in, while the skin, turning putrid with the infection, breaks into open sores.
But if a man taste the loathsome fire of Colchian Medea, 250 the notorious meadow-saffron, an incurable itching assails : his lips all over as he moistens them, such as comes upon those whose skin is defiled with the snow-white juice of the fig-tree or by the stinging nettle or by the many-coated head of the squill, which fearfully inflames the flesh of children. But if he retain the poison, there settles in his gullet a pain which at first eats into it and presently lacerates it from below with desperate retching as he disgorges the poison from his throat; and at the same time the belly also voids the polluted scourings, even as a carver pours off the turbid water in which the meat was washed.
260 Now sometimes you should cut and administer the crinkled leaves of the oak, or else those of the Valonia oak together with the acorns; or you should draw fresh milk in a pail and then let the man swallow his fill of the milk after retaining it in his mouth. At times to be sure shoots of knot-grass will help, or else the roots boiled in milk. You should also infuse vine-tendrils in water, or equally well shoots of bramble which you have chopped. Further, you should strip the green hulls of a well-grown chestnut-tree that cover the thin-skinned nut 270 where the dry husk encloses the inner flesh of the nut so hard to peel which the land of Castanea brings forth. You may suitably extract the inmost pith of the giant fennel which received the spoils of Prometheus's thieving, and at the same time throw in a quantity of leaves of the evergreen tufted thyme and of the berries of the styptic myrtle; or you might perhaps soak the rind of the chamaeleon-thistle, 280 which has a smell like that of basil . The furrow of the victim's tongue grows rough at the base and inflamed from below, and his heart wanders within him. In his frenzy he gnaws his tongue with his dog-teeth, for at times his madness overmasters his wits, while the stomach blinds with wanton obstruction the two channels of liquid and solid food, and rumbles with the wind it has penned within, which circulating in a confined track often seems like the thunder of stormy Olympus, or again like the wicked roaring of the sea 290 as it booms beneath rocky cliffs. Distressed though he is, despite his efforts scarce can the wind escape upward; yet medicinal draughts can at once make him void egg-shaped stools, like the shell-less lumps which the free-feeding fowl, when brooding her warlike chicks, sometimes under stress of recent blows drops from her belly in their membranes ; sometimes under stress of sickness she will cast out her ill-fated offspring upon the earth.
The familiar astringent draught of wormwood steeped in freshly pressed grape-syrup will check his pain; 300 sometimes too you may cut up the resin of the terebinth-tree, or else the tears of the Corsican pine, or again of the Aleppo pine which makes moan on the spot where Phoebus stripped the skin from the limbs of Marsyas; and the tree, lamenting in the glens his far-famed fate, alone utters her passionate plaint unceasingly. Give him also plenty of the flowers of the bright hulwort, fatal to mice, or strip the low-growing shoots of rue, and spikenard, and take also the testicle of the beaver that dwells in the lake; or rub down an obol of silphium with a toothed scraper, or else cut off the same quantity of its gum. 310 Sometimes too he may be given his fill of the wild goat's marjoram, or of milk just curdling in the pail after milking.
But if a man in his folly taste the fresh blood of a bull he falls heavily to the ground in distress, overmastered by pain, when, as it reaches the chest, the blood congeals easily, and, in the hollow of his stomach, clots; the passages are stopped, the breath is straitened within his clogged throat, while, often struggling in convulsions on the ground, he gasps bespattered with foam.
You should cut off for him some juicy wild figs, 320 soak in vinegar, and then mingle the whole with water, stirring together the water and the astringent draught of vinegar; or drain away the burden of his surcharged belly. Also you should strain through a porous bag of fine linen some stirred curd either from a fawn of roe or red deer or from a kid; or again if you take some from the nimble hare you will bring healing and help to the sufferer. Or give him three obols' weight of well-powdered soda, and mix it in a sweet draught of wine; mix too a pound weight with equal parts of silphium and of its gum, 330 and seed of cabbage soaked thoroughly in vinegar. And give him a sprig of flea-bane with its ill-coloured leaves. Or you should bruise some pepper and buds of the bramble-bush; then you will easily dissipate a mass of congealing blood, or break it up if it has lodged in the vessels.
Do not let the agonising drink of the hateful buprestis escape your knowledge; and you should recognise a man overcome by it. In truth, when bitten, its contact with the jaws seems that of soda; it has an evil smell; and all about the mouths of the stomach arise shifting pains; 340 the urine is stopped and the lowest : part of the bladder throbs, while the whole belly is inflated, as when a tympanitic dropsy settles in abundance about the mid navel, and all over the man's limbs the skin is visibly taut. This creature too, I fancy, causes swelling in plump-bellied heifers or calves, whenever they bite it as they graze. For this reason herdsmen name...

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

Calculating the roof pitch is essential for any roofing project. Whether you're a homeowner planning a renovation or a DIY enthusiast, understanding roof pitch can help you achieve the best results. Here's a simple guide to help you calculate the roof pitch.
What is Roof Pitch?
Roof pitch refers to the steepness or angle of a roof. It's expressed as a ratio of the vertical rise to the horizontal run. For example, a 4/12 pitch means the roof rises 4 inches for every 12 inches of horizontal distance.
Why Roof Pitch Matters
The pitch of your roof affects several aspects: - Water Drainage: Steeper roofs shed water more efficiently. - Material Choice: Different pitches may require different roofing materials. - Aesthetics: The pitch can impact the overall look of your home. - Building Codes: Some areas have regulations regarding roof pitch.
Tools You'll Need
To calculate roof pitch, you’ll need: - A level - A tape measure - A pencil and paper for notes
Step-by-Step Guide

1. Find a Safe Spot First, ensure you have a safe and stable place to access your roof. If you're not comfortable doing this, consider contacting the best roofing company in your area for assistance.
   
2. Measure the Run Place the level horizontally on the roof. Measure 12 inches along the level and mark the point.
   
3. Measure the Rise From the 12-inch mark, measure vertically to the roof surface. This distance is the rise.
   
4. Calculate the Pitch The pitch is the rise over the run. For example, if the rise is 6 inches, the pitch is 6/12. Simplify if possible, so a 6/12 pitch is the same as a 1/2 pitch.
   

Example Calculation
Let's say you measured a 5-inch rise over a 12-inch run: - Place your level on the roof and measure 12 inches horizontally. - Measure vertically from the end of the level to the roof surface, which is 5 inches. - The pitch is 5/12.
Double-Check Your Measurements
Accuracy is key. Double-check your measurements to ensure they are correct. Errors can lead to issues in your roofing project, so it’s worth taking the time to get it right.
When to Call a Professional
While calculating roof pitch is straightforward, working on a roof can be dangerous. If you’re unsure or uncomfortable, it’s best to call in professionals. The best roofing company or best roofer can provide accurate measurements and expert advice.

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

Hi all! I'm installing a roof on a shed this week. Its a studio style shed (single, low sloped pitch) with 7/16ths OSB as the decking, plus weather barrier, underlayment, and shingles. I picked up all the supplies to do it last night, except roofing nails. I'm a total n00b to this so I'm a little confused with what length of nail to use. I'll be using a Bostich coil nail gun
Should the nails go through the osb? Would a 1 1/4in nail work or should I look for something smaller.
Thanks!

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.

I managed to get the Ecoflow Delta Pro + Extra Battery for a good price and will be placing it in my shed. The battery will be powering a couple of lights, a set of battery chargers (for tools, etc.) and the base for an automower. I can mount solar panels on the single-slope roof of my 10X10 shed, which has good southern exposure. I'm posting here to ask which panels would be appropriate for this use-case. The specs for the solar input into the Ecoflow Delta Pro are: 1600W Max, 11-150V, 15A Max. Signature Solar is offering the REC 370W Mono for $105 apiece. Say, 3-4 of those should be good right?
Edit - Oh, and I believe I don't need an inverter, right?

Hello good people of Watts Island. I’m back to talk a little about Shanann’s friends and do something akin to ‘Who were they and where are they now?”
The idea behind this post came from “Beyond the Headlines: The Watts Family Tragedy” that I recently watched on YouTube. I have much to say about these interviews and the narrative that was and is forced on the public regarding Shanann and her relationship with Chris.
So, let’s get into it.
The Watts Family Tragedy Includes Never-Before-Seen Footage Beyond The Headlines Special LMN
Maybe some of you have seen this before and maybe some have not, me included. I came across this just a few nights ago and I feel there are some things that could be addressed. A “set the record straight” if you will. I figured that we would use this opportunity to talk about these women who call Shanann their “friend”, their connection to her and what has happened in their lives since this crime made them semi-famous.
Most of you know that I have researched this crime relentlessly. I have learned a lot about the people involved. I also became very familiar with the business of MLM’s and the dichotomy that exists in the friendships that develop within them. It’s all very, very interesting. After reading all of this, go back and rewatch the above video once again. It has a performance vibe to it. Shanann’s gruesome demise brought fame and glory to Thrive and its promoters and many of them still use their connection to her to bring in sales. We will get into that later.
The main characters to discuss in this video are:
Cristina Meacham, Cassandra Rosenberg, Cindy Derossett, and CBI Agent Tammy Lee. We will touch on Mr Rourke and Mr. Wrenn but this is about the women and their connection to Shanann. There is also a news reporter featured in the show but she is a paid talking head, so not of interest to me. She is merely the messenger of the narrative. She did not actually construct it. However, she had a big part in pushing it out into the world.
On with the show…
I want to start with Cristina Meacham. Before I give you my thoughts on her interview, I want to say that the loss of her husband, Deloye (DJ) is a tragedy and I feel for her and her daughter.
DJ was a retired US military serviceman. He was a certified diving instructor and owned his own recreational diving company in Hawaii called Deco Divers. On October 13, 2023, just two days after Cristina returned from Puerto Rico where she had attended the funeral of her grandmother, DJ passed away from complications that occurred while he was diving in shallow water. He suffered from some sort of emergency while in the water and died as a result. He was 53.
The Meacham’s appeared to have had a good marriage if you believe what’s on social media. But we all know that things aren’t always what they seem. That’s neither here nor there. Cristina and Nickole Atkinson have always seemed the most genuine of Shanann’s “friend group” (their words not mine.) Cristina struck me as honest. Yes, she is a hunbot. Yes, she does participate in an MLM. But she doesn’t sell the fake lifestyle like Shanann did. At least, not as aggressively.
I think the two women were close. Talking on the phone everyday. Brainstorming on how to coax more suckers into promoting Thrive. But Cristina’s livelihood didn’t hinge on building a bigger downline. Shanann had quit her job and Chris’ paycheck didn’t begin to cover their basic expenses.
Back in 2015, while Shanann was still working and making decent pay, money was extremely tight. The house payment alone absorbed over half of his monthly salary. After utilities, car insurance, minimum credit card payments, Shanann’s shopping habits, clothing and food, the Watts were well into the red. Shanann juggled the bills each month in order to try and keep them afloat. But it didn’t work and in June of that same year, the Watts filed for bankruptcy protection.
By Chris’ account, he was floored by the need to file bankruptcy. Shanann had complete control over their finances. She insisted and Chris wasn’t one to tell her ‘no.’ She chose to marry him, in part, because of that little fact. Chris was easily pushed around by his wife. He was conflict avoidant by nature. Combine that and his fear of Shanann’s italian temper and you have a recipe for financial disaster.
By the time summer of 2018 had rolled around their money problems were significantly worse. Shanann no longer worked that decent paying job. The girls were now enrolled full time at Primrose to the tune of $500 per week. Still, Shanann would pump hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars a month into promoting Thrive. This meant that the house payment would go unpaid for months at a time and/or only partial payments were made. The HOA had filed suit against the Watts for unpaid dues that stretched back more than a year.
Shanann knew that things had gotten to the breaking point where money was concerned. She used deceptive tactics to draw friends and family into the Thrive pyramid scheme. Maybe this is why Cristina Meacham always appeared genuine to me. Her sales pitch didn’t have the desperation behind it like Shanann’s. I suspect that the majority of the women promoting Thrive were in the same predicament as Shanann. Trying to keep a roof over their families heads is hard when your fake lifestyle soaks up all of the money. They continue to throw money at the Thrive monster in order to keep up appearances in hopes that some poor schmuck will fall for the same tired sales pitch and go all in on promoting the product. Downlines on downlines on downlines. It’s impossible for someone like Shanann to make this MLM business structure lucrative. It’s not going to happen. Most huns see it fairly quickly and this is why most of these “sales consultants” LOL actually throw in the towel in the first 6 months. The super hunbots with delusions of grandeur sacrifice everything they and their partner have built in pursuit of the life they “deserve” despite it being completely unrealistic. These women build teams of lovebombing stepford wives, all of which are hell bent on clawing their way to the top of the pyramid.
With this dynamic at play in all MLM’s it’s hard to know if the relationships between hunbots are legitimate or if they are a product of the MLM. Cristina may have been “close” to Shanann but in the MLM game that doesn’t necessarily equate to genuine friendship.
Let’s keep it real. Cristina was in the front row of the Shanann Show more than once. The first week and half of August 2018 had Cristina in the trenches. Shanann texted her literally day and night spouting hateful accusations at Ronnie and Cindy Watts. Followed by prolonged rants on why Chris didn’t want to touch her or talk to her. Cristina could surely see why Chris may have been upset with his wife. Anyone with any semblance of normalcy could read those text messages and see that Shanann was not a supportive or caring wife. She wanted her husband to choose her side in a battle she orchestrated against his family. A highly disordered personality has to be the culprit.
Cristina is used in the voiceover during the intro of the show. She speaks in a strange tone that I hadn’t heard from her before. I have watched an embarrassing amount of this woman’s social media content and believe me when I say that this voice is new.
Cristina has a lot to say about who Shanann was and while I don’t believe that their friendship was anything rock solid, I do think that Cristina knew Shanann better than anyone else outside of her husband and family.
Cristina was starting to get a picture of the real Shanann, though. The text exchanges between Shanann and Cristina during July and August 2018, were eye opening to me. I have read and reread some of those messages and found myself shaking my head in disbelief. Shanann was not a nice person. Cristina has had years to mull over the details. She didn’t seem comfortable with the way Shanann was treating her husband and in-laws. Her responses to Shanann’s vitriol are interesting. They suggest to me that after spending eight weeks at Saratoga Trail and watching Shanann in her element, Cristina was seeing things for what they were. Shanann wanted to be in control. If her wants and needs weren’t met, there was going to be a problem. She was a bully and a…bitch honestly. Cristina resorted to the obligatory head nodding after her initial attempts to encourage Shanann to be calm and level-headed failed miserably.
While Cristina and Koral were in Colorado in late summeearly fall of 2017. Shanann was in the throes of Thrive and most of us know what that entailed.
Shanann had quit her job at the hospital to Thrive full time. The girls were dropped off at daycare at approximately 7 am each weekday morning, where they stayed for nine plus hours. Chris was sent to retrieve them after his twelve hour shift ended at Anadarko. He brought them home where he was tasked with bathing, feeding, brushing teeth, administering meds, and reading bedtime stories, before putting them to bed by 6:30 pm. Shanann would often make Chris perform live for her Facebook friends in addition to his nightly dad duties. Giving piggyback rides on camera. Dutifully obeying his wife's demands to do pushups and squats with screaming children clutching his neck and head. All of this is punctuated by being the punchline to all of Shanann’s not-so-funny, mean jokes. The laundry was always waiting patiently for his attention after the girls were put to bed. Sometimes even the dishes were on his list of things to do before he was allowed to rest after his long day.
Cristina knows all of this. She was right in the thick of the action, so to speak. Not only was she a witness to this unequaled dynamic but she also utilized Shanann’s beast of burden herself on many occasions, as he was also a great babysitter. Cristina trusted Chris, once upon a time. Trusted him so much that she would leave her toddler in his care while she and Shanann took a weekend trip to Las Vegas. She also left Koral with Chris several nights per week. Shanann and Cristina went to dinners, movies, bars, etc while Chris stayed at home with both of his toddlers and Cristina’s as well. He didn’t even have access to a vehicle during these times. What kind of man would put up with that kind of treatment? A nice man. A genuinely nice man. That’s who Chris was and Cristina Meacham knows it.
Her knowledge of what their marriage was really like behind the doors on Saratoga Trail is the reason why Cristina doesn’t shed one real tear in the above video. Look closely. No tears. Her voice lifts and squeaks as though it is full of confusion and emotion but there’s no there, there. Performative.
Cristina knows that Chris was an excellent father and husband until that day in August. She also knows that Shanann pushed and pushed and pushed. It was her way or no way at all.
They use a few of Shanann’s text messages as proof of her broken heart after Chris began to pull away but what they don’t show is the manipulation and abuse that filled the other 99% of her texts during that same time period. The way that Shanann spoke about her husband and his family in text messages she sent to Cristina Meacham during the summer of 2018 shows the real, down and dirty deal. It is more than obvious from Cristina’s replies to those messages that she knew Shanann was full of hatred and malice toward Chris’ parents and sister. Hell, not even his young niece and nephew were safe from Shanann’s vitriol. It’s not as if Cristina hadn’t been privy to that side of Shanann. She had seen it firsthand. This is why Cristina cries with dry eyes.
Don’t get me wrong. I believe that Cristina is affected by the loss of someone who was a big part of her life in the final two years leading up to the murders. But what you can’t convince me of is that Cristina truly believes that Shanann was the living, breathing angel that she is portrayed to have been.
If there is anyone outside of Shanann and Chris' respective families who saw who Shanann really was, it’s Cristina Meacham.
Cristina ruminates on the atrocities that Chris committed that August morning. Strangely though, she leaves the girls out of their own murder. It’s quite obvious that the point of this whole thing is to shove that same old narrative down our throats. That Shanann was an angel and Chris is the devil. They pushed this on the public from the day that Chris was arrested. There was no investigation. No defense team to pull the skeletons out of the closet and dust them off for the world to see. No friends or family of Chris were given a platform to tell their truth. Nope. It was and still is the “Shanann Show.” Propagated by the Weld county DA’s office, the Rzucek family and the powers that be at LeVel.
Cristina’s description of Shanann is a caricature. Maybe this is why the tears just aren’t there. She calls Shanann a good person and a good wife to Chris. Would a good wife insist that her husband cut all ties with his parents for the 2nd time in six years? Do good people use Facebook as a weapon against their in-laws? Does a good wife heap all of the childcare and chores on her husband every evening after he worked a 12 hour shift? While she sat at home and spent money that they simply did not have? These are just small examples of the shit that Shanann put Chris through. We won’t even talk about how she separated Chris from his family and friends through manipulation and deceit. She made sure that he had no life outside of the house on Saratoga Trail. Even his position at Anadarko was for Shanann’s benefit. His work as a mechanic just didn’t fit into her vision for him. How can she call Shanann a good person when she was well aware that Shanann used her children as leverage against the people that loved them? It’s honestly disgusting.
If Cristina was such a close friend of Shanann’s, why didn’t she speak up and tell her that the way she treated her husband was wrong? Cristina had the chance to bring some truth and clarity to the situation while Shanann and Chris were still in North Carolina? The way that Shanann insulted and degraded her husband and his family was shameful. Cristina never once spoke up to bring Shanann back down to earth. That’s not a real friend.
Let’s talk about Cassie Rosenberg. Oh, Cassie, Cassie, Cassie. Shanann’s champion and “best friend.” Cassie is one of those people that were made for MLM’s and the like. Opportunistic but likable and empathetic. She dove into Thrive, head first. Just like Shanann. She was fresh off of a foreclosure and feeling low when Thrive rescued her and her husband, Josh from a life of boredom and laziness.
Shanann and Cassie met around November of 2017. Cassie lived in Arizona with her husband Josh and their three children. Stair step in ages. Two girls and one boy if I remember right. Not really sure as the Rosenberg children didn’t get the screen time that Bella and Celeste were forced to endure. Then again, Cassie had an actual career. She is an RN and therefore worked during the day instead of sitting at home and playing on her phone.
Cassie and Shanann instantly clicked during their initial meeting. Cassie had been part of Shanann’s invisible audience by way of her involvement in Thrive. Cassie was drawn to Shanann’s Thrive celebrity so to speak. Cassie was new to LeVel when the murders occurred.
Then there’s Cindy Derossett. She is another Thriver. She also lives in Arizona. Cindy is a LeVel millionaire recipient who owns a small boutique in Queen Creek, AZ. She has been with LeVel for 10 years.
So, here we have three of Shanann’s fellow Thrivers speaking about her character, pushing out the agreed upon narrative to the public. There are so many things wrong with this and it’s difficult to pick a place to start.
Why were these women chosen for this program? I understand that Cristina Meacham was probably the closest thing Shanann had to a real friend. Even though their friendship was transactional, Cristina knew Shanann for fourteen years. Even if you didn’t count the twelve years that they didn’t see one another, Cristina was still Shanann’s oldest friend. Yes, that’s correct. While Shanann had hoards of acquaintances that she would eventually pester to join the Thrive experience, she had no close friends before she joined LeVel.
Back to the question of why these particular women were chosen to represent who Shanann was in life…I believe they were the only people who would or could give the public what it wanted; a tragic main character that propagated sympathy.
Cassie wonders whether we ever really “know” someone else. She questions how Chris could commit such a horrible act without showing any signs of what was to come.
Of course it’s possible to truly “know” others. However, Cassie barely knew Chris. It hadn’t even been a full year since she had initially met Shanann face to face. Trips they took with LeVel were their only physical interactions with one another until the Rosenbergs popped up in Colorado during that holiday weekend in 2018. Of course Cassie didn’t know Chris and truthfully she barely knew Shanann.
Cindy began her “friendship” with Shanann on Facebook. Cindy was a Thriver from way back and she was introduced to Shanann by Addy Maloney.
Cindy, who calls herself a “spiritual coach” and motivational speaker, is an accomplished lovebomber. If you didn’t know better you would think that Cindy Derossett had been an integral part of the lives of Shanann and the girls. She had never actually met either of Shanann’s daughters. Cindy would see Chris on the LeVel trips but that was the extent of her relationship with him. She barely knew this family and yet, here she is on television speaking about them as though she were some kind of authority on who they were.
Both Cassie and Cindy agree that everyone that met Shanann couldn’t help but be her friend. If that were true then why was it that Shanann had no friends to speak of before joining Thrive? Sure, Shanann knew a lot of people and she would often refer to them as “friends” but in reality Shanann couldn’t maintain anything deeper than a surface level connection. Interpersonal relationships couldn’t be sustained.
She was engaging and fun on the surface but that would change as the relationship progressed. There were no friends outside of Thrive. Even the women she met before she started Thrive were eventually used to expand her downline.
While reading the text messages between Shanann and her circle, it’s obvious that each of these relationships were centered around Shanann. It was her problems that were discussed. It was her accomplishments that were celebrated. Every conversation was dictated by whatever it was that Shanann had going on in her life. Shanann surrounded herself with empathetic people in order to exploit them. Like Chris.

Cassie and Cindy are asked to describe Bella and Cece. I, myself, who have never met those children, would have done better. Their answers are full of platitudes that have been repeated over and over for the last five years. Neither of them say anything heartfelt about the girls. 

This is because Cindy had never met either Bella or Celeste. She saw via Shanann’s facebook posts but she had never actually been in the same room with them.
Cassie had only met the Watts girls once. This was in May of 2018 when the Rosenbergs traveled to Colorado for a local that Shanann was hosting. The family of 5 spent the Memorial Day weekend with the Watts on Saratoga Trail.
Both girls spent 9 hours a day, five days a week at daycare. They were in bed by 6:30 every evening.
On the weekends, Chris kept the kids out of Shanann’s hair so she could “run with her amazing team.”
So when exactly did Cassie and Cindy spend enough time with Bella and Cece that would constitute them being asked to speak about them post mortem??
At first I didn’t get it. It took a moment or two for me to catch on to why these people were invited to tell their story. People that didn’t really know them.
Then it clicked. This entire production was about Shanann.
This show aired for the first time in 2020. Just about the time that this case was generating renewed interest for different reasons.
Two years had passed since the murders occurred. Plenty of time to read and reread the discovery. Shanann’s facebook videos were compiled on YouTube channels and sent out to the morbidly curious. Like myself. Two years it took for people to begin to question the narrative. Was Shanann an innocent victim in this crime? Was she a good wife and mother who was married to a monster?
Or, was there something else to see here?
These women were brought into this case by way of their MLM connection to Shanann but they have remained as main characters to push the narrative. They have told us that Shanann was everything right in the world and Chris killed her because he was a cheating, lying piece of shit.
While some of you may believe all of that to be true, there are those of us who dug deeper into the lives of the Watts family leading up to the murders and what we have found flipped the case upside down. It’s the reason that this case remains in the front row of the true crime cases that we can’t let go.
The has-it-all image Shanann presented on social media was a dissimilation. Behind closed doors she had created an environment filled with intense levels of stress for her family.
Chris and the girls lived in constant apprehension. Creating a perfect picture for the outside world had become a responsibility for this family and anyone that threatened it would be discounted. Shanann’s selfishness caused uncertainty, insecurity, depression and probably fear.
Cristina, Cassie and Cindy talk as though they had spent considerable time with them when in fact they had not.
Truthfully, they barely knew Shanann. The amazing mom and wife that they were acquainted with was a veneer and the lifestyle that she showed off on social media was a sham. Nothing but a simulation of the life she dreamed of having.
Pay attention to what it is that they are saying and not saying about Shanann. Their characterization of her is anecdotal. The entire vibe is disingenuous and insipid.
Cristina insists that Shanann was a go-getter and was determined to create the best life for her family. But is that really true? Is that what she was attempting to achieve? Or was she hung up on material things? People who spend their families into financial ruin aren’t caring for them properly. Sliding into a second bankruptcy and a foreclosure on their home so that she could keep up the traveling, wealthy, suburban mom facade isn’t what I would call “trying to create the best life for her family.” Her vision board was a testament to her mindset. Yachts, beach houses, the list goes on and on. Someone with this kind of juvenile thinking isn’t what I would call a “go-getter.”
Cindy claims Shanann taught her girls how to love. Again, how would Cindy know this to be true? Teaching them to love? By fostering a golden child/scapegoat dynamic between them? By encouraging them to throw their food at their dad when they were displeased or impatient? How about when she screamed at their Mimi that they would never step foot in their grandparents home again?
Was it love she was teaching them when she dressed them up in lovely clothes every year to sit on Santa’s lap and find entertainment in their terror and distrust?
But most importantly of all…was she teaching them to love when she subjected them to her own sadistic form of Babywise from the minute they were born? Leaving them alone in their cribs to cry-it-out?
Cindy says when Shanann posted videos to Facebook, it was their “joy” to watch. It was likely they were required to watch by their MLM leaders.
Cassie calls Shanann “captivating” but all I saw was the exploitation of her children.
The reporter even dodges the facts by claiming that Shanann’s “main job” was as a consultant for a nutritional supplement company. There’s no way that this educated woman doesn’t know that Shanann was participating in an MLM. A pyramid scheme does not equate to a “main job.” Mostly because that “main job” doesn’t actually pay you for your work.
We will continue my reaction to Beyond the Headlines: The Watts Family Tragedy, later this week. I have a lot to say.
Thanks for reading.
Del
Pt2 https://www.reddit.comDel_Boca_Vista_4eva/s/keBnGlmySn
Pt3 https://www.reddit.comDel_Boca_Vista_4eva/s/WMm7qWetaY

Disclaimer: I do not speak Korean. This is purely translated by machine with a lot of cleanup afterward. With that in mind, I am open to criticism to improve these translations. Enjoy!
Chapter 404
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「Sigh.」
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The night was pitch-dark.
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Upon his return, the young man shed his equipment and collapsed in his usual spot, gasping for air. A middle-aged man approached, offering him a drink.
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「You look exhausted. Drink this.」
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The pair, both Hunters drafted from Shanxi Province, had forged a considerable bond.
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Recognizing the familiar face and the can in his hand, the young man spoke hesitantly.
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「Is this from the supplies? I've never seen this drink before.」
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「It came as part of international aid. It's not from our country.」
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「Um, is it non-carbonated?」
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「If you don't like it, then never mind.」
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Snatch!
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Grasping the hand of the departing middle-aged man, the young man declared earnestly,
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「Mister, did I ever tell you that my favorite thing in the world is soft drinks?」
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「No.」
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「Well, now you know.」
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「Good, that's the spirit.」
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「I'll enjoy it, then.」
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Clink, ssshh.
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The young man popped the can open and took a sip, his face subtly shifting. Before he could comment, the middle-aged man inquired,
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「You're coming back from a search in Zone 3, right?」
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「...Ugh, yes.」
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「It must have been tough.」
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The young man simply shrugged, his torso bare and slick with cold sweat, his cheek smeared with greenish monster blood.
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「Monster blood, huh? Was there a fight?」
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「No, I was just passing by a building when a fucking gargoyle corpse fell down. It must have been lying on the roof.」
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「What a mess it must have been.」
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「Are you kidding? The rookies in their first and second year vomited and pissed themselves the moment they got covered in blood.」
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「And you?」
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「Well, I am a seven-year Hunter, after all. I didn't even blink.」
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The middle-aged man's eyes trailed down to a specific area on the young man's body. He fixed his gaze on a faintly discolored patch on the young man's navy blue pants and nodded.
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「Ah, I see.」
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「…It's sweat.」
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「I didn't say anything. But when I look at you, I feel like my eyes are sweating.」
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「…Actually, I peed a little. Can you tell?」
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「Yes.」
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「Shit.」
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As the young man muttered a curse and tipped his can to drink, the middle-aged man watched in silence before suddenly asking,
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「Did you find any survivors?」
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「…!」
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「It was the same for you, then.」
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As the young man's expression suddenly hardened, the middle-aged man sighed.
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He too had participated in a search before. It was truly a nightmarish experience.
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Everywhere he looked, there were corpses torn to shreds by monsters, and the dreadful stench was enough to split his head.
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Both of them would probably never forget the horrific scenes they witnessed today.
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「…It's unimaginable. How fierce the battle must have been.」
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「No need to imagine. Whatever you're thinking, it was worse.」
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Under the command of Minister of National Defense Wei Feng-Hu, four thousand Hunters scoured the small town. All their search equipment consistently returned the same bleak outcome.
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No survivors.
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Aside from the three thousand members of the People's Liberation Army who had fled at the battle’s onset, all others were found lifeless and cold. The fate of those who fled remained uncertain.
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「We can't even use the term 'casualty count'. 'Death count' would be more accurate…」
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「Watch your words. We still don't have all the facts.」
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「Uh, sorry. I misspoke.」
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「That's enough. And…」
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Interrupting the young man's impulsive comments, the middle-aged man clarified.
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「The 'casualty count' is correct. There are survivors.」
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「…Ah.」
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A sudden recollection flashed across the young man's mind — the memory of three individuals who had endured through this horrific setting.
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「Was it the commander of the Public Security Forces? That young guy.」
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「Yes. A young Hunter from Korea also survived.」
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「And ...」
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While the two previously mentioned also demonstrated bravery, their deeds paled in comparison to the last survivor, who shone like the sun beside mere fireflies.
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Noticing the young man's nervous swallow, the middle-aged man continued on his behalf.
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「Yes, that person. No, that incredible hero.」
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His tone carried a profound reverence. His unwavering respect for the much younger man stemmed from his exceptional accomplishments.
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「Do you believe that a single Hunter can be that powerful?」
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As a seasoned Hunter, he had a fair understanding of what an S-rank Hunter could achieve.
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Yet, the feats accomplished by Jin Tae-Kyung seemed almost mythical, surpassing any expectations of what a Hunter — or any human — could do.
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「A legion of monsters numbering in the tens of thousands. There were two Death Knights, and even a Death Knight Lord who is said to be as strong as, or stronger than, an S-rank Hunter.」
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The middle-aged man's voice surged with excitement.
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「And in comparison, how many of our Hunters were there? Merely a thousand. There were members of the People's Liberation Army, but even they...」
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「When the front lines collapsed, nearly half ran away. The rest fought bravely but were massacred by the monsters. I've heard about it too.」
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「How many Hunters do you think were left when Jin Tae-Kyung arrived? A thousand? No, not even half of that, I'd bet my life on it!」
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Had he been there when Jin Tae-Kyung arrived, the shock might have been enough to cause a heart attack.
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Even he, full of admiration, struggled to imagine Jin Tae-Kyung facing the monstrous legion alone.
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「He led hundreds of weary and wounded Hunters and annihilated a monster legion more than ten times their number! Do you think that makes any sense?」
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The young man, observing him, wore a skeptical expression.
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「I don't think it's possible.」
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「But, he did it!」
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「Uh, sir. Sorry to throw cold water on this, but aren't these facts not fully confirmed yet?」
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「What?」
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「I think Jin Tae-Kyung...」
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「It's Mr. Jin, not Jin Tae-Kyung!」
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Taken aback by the middle-aged man's sudden outburst, the young man cleared his throat awkwardly.
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「Ahem. So, I do acknowledge that Mr. Jin is an exceptional warrior, but don't you think there might be some exaggeration mixed in?」
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「Exaggeration? Even after seeing the traces left on the battlefield, you say that? If not Mr. Jin, then who...」
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「Come on, don't get so heated and try to look at it more calmly. If everything you're saying is true, then you're claiming that Mr. Jin is stronger than Fei Chen or Wu Hei-Xing.」
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「I don't want to rank them, but based on the feats shown in this monster wave, Mr. Jin is the best. So what?」
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「Fei Chen is a hero from Hong Kong who has achieved numerous feats during the Great Cataclysm, and Wu Hei-Xing, despite his mishaps, is considered a true genius born of China. To say that Jin Tae-Kyung surpasses these two? That crosses a line.」
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The middle-aged man fixed the young man with a look of disappointment and disdain.
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「You're the one crossing the line.」
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「What?」
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「Is that all you wanted to say? Shouting about how China is the best, claiming a great victory, and then belittling a hero who saved the people?」
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The young man's expression contorted sharply.
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「Since you mentioned it, the people Jin Tae-Kyung saved today amount to just two. Actually, one of them is Korean, so really just one. And that one was completely unharmed. Jin Tae-Kyung pretty much only fought to protect his own countrymen. There are rumors that he wasted a Top-grade Potion too.」
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「I should stop talking. I have nothing good to say to you, but I at least shouldn't treat you poorly. I wonder what Mr. Jin would say if he heard this...」
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The middle-aged man sighed deeply and stood.
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"Well, in my opinion, he probably would've called that young man a son of a bitch."
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「…!」
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「…!」
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Caught off guard by the unexpected voice, both men whirled around in surprise.
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They were now facing someone they usually saw on TV or in the media.
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「…Hiccup.」
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The young man, looking up at the taller figure, started hiccupping.
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「Ji, ji, ji, ji, Ji-jin!!」
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The middle-aged man stuttered, as if his words were stuck.
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Jin Tae-Kyung, observing them, cracked a congenial smile.
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"If the young man over there wants to be a good Chinese person, he should stop hiccuping. And sir, please stop your trembling unless you plan to take down the Arch Lich with an earthquake."
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「Hic, gulp.」
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「I-i-is it really you?」
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Jin Tae-Kyung nodded slightly.
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"I was just passing by, but then I heard something quite irritating."
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「…Th-that's…」
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The young man, now ceasing his hiccups but trembling like a leaf, was scrutinized by Jin Tae-Kyung.
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"How old are you?"
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「T-twenty-nine.」
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"You're older than me. I'll speak informally anyway."
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「…What?」
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"Whatever."
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「Oh?」
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He wouldn’t be able to retort even if Jin Tae-Kyung cursed him rather than merely using informal speech.
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The realization that Jin Tae-Kyung, whom he had only seen from afar, had overheard every word sent a shiver down the young man's spine and caused his vision to whiten.
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「I-I’m sorry.」
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“There’s nothing to apologize for. That's what gossiping behind people's backs is all about. I understand.”
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「Th-thank you.」
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Just as Jin Tae-Kyung’s kind smile was warming his heart.
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“There’s nothing to thank me for. Gossip is fine until you get caught; then it screws you over.”
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「…!」
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“There’s someone behind me right now. Can you see?”
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The young man slowly, very cautiously, shifted his gaze.
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Sure enough, a middle-aged man with a sinister look was emanating an intimidating presence from about ten meters away.
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“He’s an A-rank Hunter affiliated with the Central Military Commission. He seemed quite taken with your tale and kept bowing to me. Why don’t you go and apply a medicated patch on him?”
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「Yes, sir!」
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The young man responded as if he were yelling and dashed off, his scream echoing as his mana-infused joints throbbed.
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Jin Tae-Kyung, ready to depart with a light chuckle, paused.
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“Ah, there’s one thing you’re mistaken about.”
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「M-me?」
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The middle-aged man, momentarily disoriented, snapped back to attention.
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「Sorry, but what is it?」
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“It wasn’t just me.”
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「Really?」
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“Everyone fought to the death. By the time I got there, it was almost all over. Please let the others know that too.”
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「I-is that really true?」
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“Of course. Oh, do you have a family?”
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「Yes. Three daughters and five sons…」
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“You’re a patriot. You could start a soccer team in a few years.”
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Jin Tae-Kyung, contemplating, suddenly inquired.
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“You’re not part of the combat troops, are you?”
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「…You can tell right away.」
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The middle-aged man lowered his head, slightly embarrassed.
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「As you can see, I'm an E-rank Hunter, so I was excluded from combat. I will probably only be used to count casualties.」
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"Then, may I ask you for one favor?"
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「It would be an honor, Mr. Jin.」
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"Please include one person in the list of the deceased. I'd like to ask you a special request since we won't be able to find the body."
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「What is the person's name…?」
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"Lei Fei. His name is Lei Fei."
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That was the last thing he said.
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The middle-aged man stood frozen, watching Jin Tae-Kyung walk away, before he finally released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
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The final look on Jin Tae-Kyung’s face seemed destined to linger in his memory for years.
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'The intensity in his gaze...'
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A determination to fulfill his mission.
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The middle-aged man, having earlier voiced his respect for Jin Tae-Kyung, took a swig from the can the young man had abandoned and immediately regretted it.
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"Ptooey!"
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Birdian? [Note: Birdian is a beverage supplied to the Republic of Korea National Military from 2000 to 2017. The drink has a different flavor profile depending on who makes it and when, but the core of the beverage is always onion juice. You will always get a hit of onion flavor, especially when it is room temperature.]
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It seemed like a Korean drink, but it was disgusting.
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* * *
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「Mr. Jin, you've arrived.」
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Wei Feng-Hu wasn't the only one waiting.
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Five monitors flickered to life in the conference room, each displaying an S-rank Hunter.
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I initiated the discussion with a steady tone.
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"Let's go end this war."
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It was time to confront and eradicate the root of all this chaos.
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