Hi folks,
If you're on an M1, M2, and M3 mac and have found your device unusable since the latest update which rendered the screen so unstable...and to which a promised fix has never materialised I have good news.
[Below solution followed at your own risk!]
So despite Xreal claiming you can't go back...you CAN.
Firstly for the old install file....So Xreal may officially not supply it anymore and haven't linked it anywhere BUT the old download link actually still works. I was able to locate it and successfully download the old version right from Xreal themselves:
https://resource-cn.xreal.com/nebula-prod/web/android_apk/16981471587543268058372269882Nebula_for_Mac-v0.6.0-955-202310231934.dmg
Why on earth they put it in the android APK folder I have no idea...but this is v0.6.0 prior to the change.
Install it. Seems to work with 'keep both' so you can keep the most recent if you really want it and the old version.
The firmware is bundled with it....BUT there's no firmware version control for the glasses as far as I can see so when it connects to this it'll reflash with the old version quite happily then work....
HOWEVER, it will detect the more recent version and refuse to work if you just boot it up right away. You can switch wifi off when you first stop it and this should solve the problem...
I am planning to have a tinker with the below suggestions form gemini to try to block connection to xreal on the hosts file to see if that removes the need to keep blocking the internet. Would probably need to sniff network traffic when the nag starts to work out the exact update server it's checking...but something on the xreal.com website would be the most likely I'd think.
Instructions for blocking it form one of my previous posts (from gemini) below:
If switching off the internet when starting the nebula app gets you round the update nag on xreal and you'd rather wait until the team finally fixes this one it's worth a shot blocking xreal.com using your hosts file - that might mean you don't need to switch off the internet every time you start up. Not sure though - depends where the updates are stored. There's a process to do so on pretty much every OS (for android you'd probably need to be rooted) for MacOs I got the following instructions courtesy of google gemini (you'll need to undo them if you want to be able to visit xreal.com again once they fix it - by deleting the line you added). I would tend to use 'sudo nano' in terminal to edit the hosts file rather than the text editor programme (I'd be worried it'd try to convert the file to .rtf or something..but gemini probably knows what it's talking about and if not then I'd give sudo nano a shot (sudo runs it as root which you'll need to change the hosts file).
Do report back how you get on. I'm very jealous of those of you still on the old version. This update has been an absolute mess at least on M1 macbooks... Instructions from Gemini below:
f you still want to proceed with modifying the hosts file (use at your own risk):

1. Backing Up the Hosts File (Important): It's crucial to back up the original hosts file before making any changes. Here's how:

• Open Terminal (search for it in Spotlight).
• Type the following command and press Enter:
• sudo cp /private/etc/hosts /private/etc/hosts.backup
• Enter your administrator password when prompted.

1. Editing the Hosts File:

• Launch TextEdit application.
• Click on TextEdit menu in the top left corner and choose Open.
• In the Open dialog, navigate to: /private/etc/
• Change the dropdown menu in the bottom right corner from "Text Edit" to "All Files". (This is important to see the hosts file)
• Select hosts and click Open.
• Important Note: You'll likely need to authenticate with your administrator password to edit this file.

1. Adding the Entry:

• At the bottom of the file, add a new line with the following format:
• 127.0.0.1 xreal.com
• This line instructs your Mac to route any traffic directed to xreal.com to your local machine (localhost), effectively blocking it.

1. Saving the File:

• Go to File > Save.
• When prompted, enter your administrator password again.

Reverting the Change:

• If you experience issues or decide to revert the change, follow these steps:
  • Open the hosts file again using TextEdit as mentioned before.
  • Delete the line you added (127.0.0.1 xreal.com).
  • Save the file again, entering your administrator password when prompted.

Hoping this helps Mac users whose devices have proven unusable since the update! Just wish Xreal would deliver the promised update.
They should really update this stuff the plugin for the steamdeck is WAY better than their official firmware. I think they're just so determined to build a locked down ecosystem on smartphones they don't want to open source it and have people enable running of any app on it...Call me cynical!

My new house is an open floor plan with large windows and a fireplace in the living room. What would be the best set up for furniture to allow maximum seating but also a clear view of a television. For reference, my tv is 60” and none of the furniture pictured is staying. I’m open to any type of furniture (sectional vs sofa, etc.) and will also need to leave room for a dining room table between the kitchen and the living room

Like all haunted house stories, this took place right after I moved in. Cliché, right? My wife and I saved up enough money from our rental to finally put down on a house of our own. So we moved in and everything seemed right...at first.
It wasn’t until later that I realized there were warning signs. The seller seemed really anxious to close, and we were offered a much cheaper price than we expected for the space we got. While there was a moment of doubt, we brushed it off as some weird circumstance that ended in a great deal for us.
How could we possibly pass that up?
The strange occurrences were small at first. I would be up late watching TV and swore I heard something. I’d pause the show and make out what sounded like dragging noises. After investigating, I wouldn’t find anything. Even stranger was that no matter where I walked in the house, the noise always sounded the same distance away. When I focused on it, I noticed the particular noise was rhythmic.
Tap, tap...sliiiiiiide.
It was like that every single time. My wife never heard it, it was only me. None of us believe in ghosts, mind you. But as I said before it was a small thing, so I brushed it off.
One night, I woke up in a startle. I listened intently but could hear nothing. I decided to grab a late night snack from the kitchen since I was awake anyway.
Halfway down the hall, I heard something. This time, it sounded like dirt being sifted und. I knelt down and swore that the sound was louder. Before I knew it, I had my ear pressed to the hardwood floor, listening intently.
Schht, schht.....sccchhhhhhh...
I jumped up from the floor. It was that same pattern of noises, but this time it sounded like someone in the dirt. Trying to ignore the chills washing over me, I took a step towards the kitchen when…
…something grabbed my ankle.
I fell forward, almost busting my chin on the floor.
“What the...”
Flipping over, I turned to face my assailant, but there was no one behind me. I brushed it off and chalked it up to poor balance from a sleep-hangover. My wife got a good chuckle out of that one.
After that, the house began to feel.....heavier. It was this weight over me that would come and go. This was accompanied by feeling cold no matter how much we turned up the heat, and this was the middle of the summer. Even stranger, the cold seemed to only be in certain spots, particularly on the floor itself. I liked to walk around barefoot no matter what time of year it was, but it was even too cold for me.
Another night, I woke up again. My ears stood at attention, but couldn’t hear any evidence of what woke me up. I got up just like before, except I never made it to the kitchen.
I only made if halfway down our hall before I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my right leg. I had to limp to keep moving, then my other leg was wracked with a wave of pain. It was so bad I found myself face down on the ground, writhing in agony.
Then I heard it again…that awful succession of noises.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
The sliding sound was coming from the hardwood floor this time, not from underneath. And the sound was getting closer and closer until...
I watched in horror as a hand came around the corner in front of me. It was soon joined by another, and they tugged at the floor. My heart hammered in my chest as a person slowly came into view.
It was a woman with long black hair, her disheveled clothing smeared with dirt and hanging off in shreds. Her mouth was crudely stitched shut. She looked up at me with empty, lost eyes and I instantly felt a lifetime of pain and misery. It took my breath away, and I had to focus on my breathing to keep myself from fainting.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
That awful sound repeated as she grabbed the floor and pulled herself towards me. I was in a terrified trance, eyes locked with her as she slowly closed the distance. I could now see that she dragged herself because her legs were horribly mangled. A low moan emanated from her throat, sending ice through my veins.
Her very presence seemed to drain me, and I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. She made this awful gurgling sound as she got within arm’s reach. In seconds, her face was right up to mine. I tried to scream, but couldn’t make any sound.
Then...I woke up.
“AAAAHHhhh!” I shouted as I sprang up in bed.
My wife tried to console me, but it did very little. I’d never had a dream that felt so real before. Shaking, I walked out into the hallway where I had collapsed in my dream. I put a hand on the floor, expecting it to be freezing cold as usual.
But it was warm...
“Honey?” I felt the soft hand of my wife touch my shoulder.
“What’s going on? You look white as a sheet.”
“I’m okay...I just...”
On the floor in front me, I noticed the faint trace of fingernail marks.
“Was that there before?” My wife inquired.
“I’m...I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go back to bed. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”
I tried to hold back my stubborn expression, but she still saw it.
“C’mon, you need to rest.”
With an exasperated exhale, I went back to bed with the strange occurrence replaying incessantly in my brain.
In the morning, I told my wife about all the strange experiences. To my shock she actually believed me.
“What do you want to do, then?” She asked.
“Well...I have a theory I want to check out.”
“Theory of what?”
“Well, let’s just say that ghosts exist, and there are certain reasons why they haunt certain places. If that is true then...I think there could be a body in our crawlspace.”
“What, are you crazy?”
“I know how it sounds, but what would it hurt to look?”
“You really think there’s something down there?”
“More someone, but I’m not sure to be honest. Hopefully I can get a confirmation either way it goes.”
That afternoon, I found myself standing at the door to our crawlspace. It felt ridiculous, but so many details pointed to it. The sounds and cold spots were all related to the floor. The ghastly woman’s clothes were smeared with dirt. It was obscure, but it was all I had to go on.
I had to pry the door open with a crowbar, but I managed after a minute or two. A wave of unnatural cold air blasted me, so strong that I had to throw on a coat just to stop from shivering so badly.
I clicked on my flashlight, illuminating the eerie underbelly of our home. The dirt sifted under my feet as I crouch-walked around. After hearing it, it only confirmed what I thought I heard from under the floor.
Expecting to see more, I was almost disappointed that the crawlspace was completely bare. Not believing it entirely, I shined my light around more. The back part of the crawlspace led to concrete and it was there that I noticed one section of the wall looked different than the rest.
Hands quivering, I pushed against the section of concrete and felt it shift under the pressure. It continued to wobble around in place the more I pushed. Holding my flashlight between my teeth, I had to use both hands to pry the piece away from the wall. To my astonishment, it pulled away very easily. It was no coincidence that the section of wall fit the hole exactly, like a puzzle piece.
After leaning the piece of concrete against the wall, I found that the concrete was covering a door with a padlock.
There’s no way anything good is behind this...
Minutes later, I returned to the mysterious door with a pair of bolt cutters. I debated whether or not I’d go in. There was no reason I shouldn’t satisfy my curiosity, because if there wasn’t anything then great, but if there was something terrible, I’d simply have to deal with it. Either way, I had to know.
I clipped the metal bar off the lock and it thudded softly to the dirt floor. Taking in a deep breath, I dared to aim my beam down the opening. The crawlspace extended much further into the house, and I had a good guess where it led. I now had to crawl on my hands and knees as a knot of dread formed in my stomach.
“You always tell people not to do this in movies, why are you doing this now??!” I chastised myself.
I knew all too well how stupid this was but the part of my brain that can’t look away from a car wreck pushed me to carry along regardless.
It was difficult to navigate with the flashlight and crawl. A mild claustrophobia settled in that pushed me along with a sense of urgency. The temperature couldn’t have been any more than a meatlocker. My hands shook despite my thick jacket. Eventually, I came to a dead end.
Is this all?
I stopped for a moment and checked around with my light some more, hoping a more thorough search would bear some fruit. Yet, there was nothing.
Sighing in frustration, I decided that perhaps I was losing my mind and was just having really vivid dreams after all. How could I have been so stupid?
I made it halfway across the hidden area when I felt my legs suddenly give out. They weren’t tired or sore before this. It was as if they stopped working of their own volition. I attempted to cry out, but my mouth felt as if some force held it closed.
Just like a stitched mouth...
One of the few things I could move was my neck and I turned to the side to see...
…a tuft of a blanket?
Due to the narrow space, I must have missed it. I slowly reached for it with all the internal alarms in my body going off at once. Ignoring the warning, I pulled the cloth back to reveal a skeletal hand.
In this moment of revulsion, something turned on my motor skills again as I regained control of my legs, crawling out of there as quickly as I could muster. Heaving, I stumbled out of the crawlspace and instantly felt the rise in temperature. I sat on the porch and stayed there as I called the police and explained the situation.
It turns out that one of the previous owners of the home was a major suspect in the disappearance of a young lady fifteen years ago. There wasn’t enough evidence to conduct a home search so they were never able to find the body. And what they found was something I wish I had never known.
From examining the body, they found that her captor had broken both of her legs so she couldn’t escape and sewn her mouth shut to keep her from screaming. It was hard to tell how long she’d been locked down there before she died, but they hypothesized it was a month or two. The cause of death was unclear. This was clearly enough to pursue the former owner.
When they picked him up, the guy tried to play the ignorance card, pretending as if he didn’t know what house they were referring to. This of course made it even more suspicious.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything concrete enough to tie him to her death...until they searched his current home. Blueprints of the home showed that the crawlspace was supposed to end ten feet where the concrete wall was. No contractors were hired to do any work on the home, so someone had personally busted it up and created the door going further in. The last part of it was the padlock on the door.
When the police searched the man’s home, they found a shoebox full of seemingly innocent keepsakes. Among the keepsakes were some heirlooms, pictures of close family members, and a key. As suspected, the key matched the padlock to the crawlspace door. It was apparently enough to make him crack. It wasn’t long before he confessed to the kidnapping and murder, albeit without a hint of remorse. Turns out the bastard kept the key as a sick trophy.
They even questioned him about other possible victims since this was a trait commonly shared by serial killers. He denied it, but the police couldn’t feel any truth from it. If anything they knew that they solved one case, put a guilty man behind bars, and put a family at peace. Justice was served and he was locked away for the rest of his miserable life. Poetic justice, if you ask me. The poor girl’s parents buried her remains on a family plot.
After all this, we had serious doubts about staying in the home. Knowing something this egregious happened in our home was almost unbearable. I can’t tell you how much we cried when we heard the story of what happened to that poor girl. We were on the brink of selling the house for about a week, but one night changed all that.
I woke up from a dream, one so vivid yet it somehow escaped my thoughts like a fistful of sand. There was a strange feeling in my gut as if something was going to happen.
It was neither good nor bad, just....strange.
After drinking a small glass of milk, I meandered down the hall and stopped in my tracks. A woman stood in front of me, half-transparent with a bluish luminescence. I felt as if I knew her, although I didn’t recognize her appearance at all. She smiled, and I instantly knew who she was. Compared to her previous horrific manifestation, the woman was almost unrecognizable.
Never speaking, she motioned to her legs and I saw that they were in perfect condition. In a mild state of shock, I managed to form a smile. She beamed even wider and ran her fingers across her lips, pointing out her lack of stitches. A blanket of warmth wrapped around me, and I couldn’t resist the salty tears that streamed down my face.
Right before she waved goodbye, a voice spoke within my mind.
"It’s over now. Thank you..."
She faded away, and for the first time since we moved into that house, all hints of the oppressive energy dissipated. That was the last time I ever saw her.
It’s been 30 years now, and we’re still in that house to this day...
May she continue to rest in peace...

To D.,
Hoping that you never read this letter, that is to say, that I never send it to you,
I think back to your story from yesterday. Imagining what you went through while you were telling me made my blood run cold. You didn't tell me what that boy might have said and repeated to you; it was enough to understand the destructive force of his obsession and relentlessness to trigger deep compassion in me. It was the first time I heard someone talk about their stalker.
Now that I think back, I realize even more how much of an ordeal it must have been. He stole your right to a peaceful daily life and replaced it with a tentacular grip motivated by hopes whose futility he could only consciously ignore. Yet he believed in it, he thought, at least for a moment, that one more message, one more letter would finally win you over. Probably his mind crossed the point of no return, that he couldn't repent, that he had gone too far. Probably he didn't realize that the love he had for you—if he loved you, if that can decently be called love, if he is even capable of love—had turned into an uncontrollable anger of which you were the constant victim. Probably he thought he loved you but also wanted to hurt you, pursuing two completely contradictory goals: to seduce you to attract you and to punish you for rejecting him. So, I quickly agreed with you when you said his behavior was pathological. You learned you were not the only one.
I wouldn't say that one of my first thoughts was to believe that I wasn't like that, as if not being sick deserved a medal or the invented applause of an indefinite crowd living in a corner of my brain. This kind of perversion seemed so far from me that I could only be sincerely sorry for you. I don't even know how many times I told you how sorry I was for you and how brave I found you for filing a complaint, confronting the situation, and reacting with such strength despite the mental cost it might represent.
At that moment, I felt pure sympathy for you. It had nothing to do with me; I disappeared from the discussion, erased myself from the world just to listen to you and give your story the full respect it deserves. Then, we changed the subject, and I remember the atmosphere became lighter. I couldn't tell you what we talked about at that moment as I've been thinking since yesterday.
You paid for our lattes and walked me to my bike. I'm certain I saw fear cross your face when I told you which street I had parked my bike on. I sensed—without really knowing, though it had crossed my mind—that I had parked it near your home, and I understood your fear. I tried to imagine what went through your mind at that moment, and this is what stuck with me: I was almost at your place, almost at your door, and it wasn't planned, and this "coincidence" reminded you of your fears and your anxiety of living under a grip, of losing control of your privacy. However, this fear seemed to disappear as quickly as it had arrived, and I decided not to think about it anymore. When we reached my bike, I decided to trust my instinct to find the courage to say the words stuck in my heart; I didn't yet know if I would simply propose to see you again or add that I wanted to kiss you. I liked you a lot. A lot. I think I still do.
You spoke first: "I think I'm not ready to see someone yet." I responded almost automatically that I completely understood given your situation. I don't think this automatic response showed a lack of sincerity, on the contrary. You weren't ready, and that seemed so overwhelmingly logical that I could only surrender to the obviousness of it. You added that you were sorry for wasting my time, and I replied that the time spent with you hadn't been wasted. We said goodbye. I had accepted your no.
Yet, as I watched you leave, I wondered first if I should send you a message, then what kind of message to send, and finally how to make you believe that I was also closing the door to all possibilities while subtly, secretly, leaving the door slightly open for another meeting, maybe even a relationship. I wanted to turn your no into a yes, or at worst, into a maybe. Even as this reasoning was forming, I passively observed the perversity and malice spreading throughout my psyche. I saw an obsession with you taking root, and I couldn't shake it off. On my bike, I cursed myself for having this reflex thought, and I was terrified, devastated to see it persist as I imagined the message I shouldn't send you; as it became more precise, more twisted, more manipulative with each pedal stroke, I saw myself as a gambler who had to choose each word meticulously to maximize his chances of winning. Very quickly, I identified with your stalker despite myself, and for that, I hated myself. I hated myself for despising him while sharing the object of his obsession. It was also incomprehensible that I didn't even bother or feel the need to rationalize my reasoning or excuse any sense of shame. I was like that, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Once home, I mechanically started working, and within a few minutes, my draft had taken its final form, and without thinking twice, I sent you a text message:
5:10 PM "Hey, D. I apologize in advance if this message sounds like I'm trying to get my foot in the door—I can understand that it might be the last thing you need—but that's not the case. I just wanted to reiterate that I really enjoyed our two little outings together and that I would hate for you to think that you wasted my time. You're a great girl, very brave—I sincerely mean that—and you deserve all the time you need to consider a relationship of any kind with someone. I'm not expecting any particular response from you and I wish you the best."
Rewriting and rereading this message disgusts me, obviously. The truth and lies are so well intertwined that I could almost be proud of it. The first sentence perfectly illustrates the ambivalence of the whole text: on one hand, I want to get my foot in the door, but I absolutely want to assure you otherwise, and on the other, I know that acting this way will bring nothing good, especially for you, but I do it anyway. The last sentence is also superbly ambiguous: I want you to believe that my message stands alone, but in reality, I hope you'll reply. This ambiguity actually reveals one thing: I'm clinging to the completely crazy hope that I can manage to seduce you by showing that I respect your rejection.
You replied:
5:35 PM "Hey R., thank you very much for your message and your kindness. I also had a good time during these two outings. I thought I could do it, but it's still too early for me! I wish you the best too."
Winning bet. I hate myself for succeeding in cloaking my intentions in kindness and benevolence and for my lie triumphing. Deep down, I know I would have suffered if you hadn't responded and that this absence of response would have fed my obsession. But in a way, my message protected me. As long as you didn't respond and I didn't fail by breaking my promise and sending you another message, I preserved this illusion of benevolence.
By responding, it's as if you offered yourself to my obsession, validated it unknowingly, and gave me permission to break the promise I made to you.
That's when I got scared and decided I had to talk to someone, as if I needed to confess—or be exorcised—and I thought that, in any case, I could free myself from this weight that was suffocating and blinding me. I joined U. and warned him that I needed to talk to him about you. Sitting on the terrace at the Relais, I told him as best I could about your story and the sincere empathy I had felt. I continued by explaining the disgust I had felt towards my behavior. U. nodded and understood and found the words to reassure me. He got up and went up inside at the counter of the bar to order us some drinks, leaving me alone at our table on Rue de Belleville.
I was left to my thoughts when I saw you arriving on the opposite sidewalk at the corner of Rue Rampal. I couldn't help but first believe that I had manifested your presence by projecting your features onto a stranger's face, as if my subconscious wanted to demonstrate the quasi-psychedelic power of my obsession. As I realized it was indeed you, a wave of anxiety overwhelmed me. I don't know if you saw me, I think you did. I immediately thought of your perspective; you couldn't help but notice the curious appearance of the boy you had confided your stalker story to just a few hours earlier. In an instant, I resumed the role that had traumatized you, and in taking it up despite myself, my questions were confirmed, and a sordid prophecy was being fulfilled before my eyes. I felt as if chance had crossed the red line for me and that I could only be what I dreaded becoming. I stared at you, trying to mentally convey my confusion and distress, as to make you understand that this absolutely was just an unfortunate coincidence.
U. returned as you were crossing the street, and I commented on the scene to him. "Sometimes life really messes with us," he said.

The rest, of course, will have to do with food! Now before you judge, I do speak two languages - but being the cunning linguist that I am I am also looking to expand my horizons.
so I am currently enjoying a weather related day off, and hoping to make some like minded and fun connections as winter wraps itself up in my snowy corner of the world.
When I'm not replacing my blood with carbohydrates, I typically like to eat plenty of vegetables and stay hydrated! Cooking has been a major hobby for me over the past few years and I'm always ready to share recipes and ideas from the kitchen. Gumbo or Pernil anyone?! I also like to damage my hearing while playing in a cheezy pop-punk band where I live out my dreams of being Tre Cool and perhaps landing the mythical kick flip.
For real though, I'm like 36 and I don't own a skateboard. However I may just belong in your DM's. So if you're looking for a little flirting or maybe trying to relive the glory days of having a boyfriend from Canada then i'm your guy! Just keep in mind I lost my ICQ password so we may need to rely on other methods!
If you're interested in looks, well i'm your standard issue caucasian - 6' tall and slim with broad shoulders, a canadian tan (pale as fuck), blue eyes, strong features and dark shoulder length hair!
I'm not picky on looks/age/location - whatever; But I do like a girl with a big personality! So don't be shy :)

Like all haunted house stories, this took place right after I moved in. Cliché, right? My wife and I saved up enough money from our rental to finally put down on a house of our own. So we moved in and everything seemed right...at first.
It wasn’t until later that I realized there were warning signs. The seller seemed really anxious to close, and we were offered a much cheaper price than we expected for the space we got. While there was a moment of doubt, we brushed it off as some weird circumstance that ended in a great deal for us.
How could we possibly pass that up?
The strange occurrences were small at first. I would be up late watching TV and swore I heard something. I’d pause the show and make out what sounded like dragging noises. After investigating, I wouldn’t find anything. Even stranger was that no matter where I walked in the house, the noise always sounded the same distance away. When I focused on it, I noticed the particular noise was rhythmic.
Tap, tap...sliiiiiiide.
It was like that every single time. My wife never heard it, it was only me. None of us believe in ghosts, mind you. But as I said before it was a small thing, so I brushed it off.
One night, I woke up in a startle. I listened intently but could hear nothing. I decided to grab a late night snack from the kitchen since I was awake anyway.
Halfway down the hall, I heard something. This time, it sounded like dirt being sifted und. I knelt down and swore that the sound was louder. Before I knew it, I had my ear pressed to the hardwood floor, listening intently.
Schht, schht.....sccchhhhhhh...
I jumped up from the floor. It was that same pattern of noises, but this time it sounded like someone in the dirt. Trying to ignore the chills washing over me, I took a step towards the kitchen when…
…something grabbed my ankle.
I fell forward, almost busting my chin on the floor.
“What the...”
Flipping over, I turned to face my assailant, but there was no one behind me. I brushed it off and chalked it up to poor balance from a sleep-hangover. My wife got a good chuckle out of that one.
After that, the house began to feel.....heavier. It was this weight over me that would come and go. This was accompanied by feeling cold no matter how much we turned up the heat, and this was the middle of the summer. Even stranger, the cold seemed to only be in certain spots, particularly on the floor itself. I liked to walk around barefoot no matter what time of year it was, but it was even too cold for me.
Another night, I woke up again. My ears stood at attention, but couldn’t hear any evidence of what woke me up. I got up just like before, except I never made it to the kitchen.
I only made if halfway down our hall before I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my right leg. I had to limp to keep moving, then my other leg was wracked with a wave of pain. It was so bad I found myself face down on the ground, writhing in agony.
Then I heard it again…that awful succession of noises.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
The sliding sound was coming from the hardwood floor this time, not from underneath. And the sound was getting closer and closer until...
I watched in horror as a hand came around the corner in front of me. It was soon joined by another, and they tugged at the floor. My heart hammered in my chest as a person slowly came into view.
It was a woman with long black hair, her disheveled clothing smeared with dirt and hanging off in shreds. Her mouth was crudely stitched shut. She looked up at me with empty, lost eyes and I instantly felt a lifetime of pain and misery. It took my breath away, and I had to focus on my breathing to keep myself from fainting.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
That awful sound repeated as she grabbed the floor and pulled herself towards me. I was in a terrified trance, eyes locked with her as she slowly closed the distance. I could now see that she dragged herself because her legs were horribly mangled. A low moan emanated from her throat, sending ice through my veins.
Her very presence seemed to drain me, and I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. She made this awful gurgling sound as she got within arm’s reach. In seconds, her face was right up to mine. I tried to scream, but couldn’t make any sound.
Then...I woke up.
“AAAAHHhhh!” I shouted as I sprang up in bed.
My wife tried to console me, but it did very little. I’d never had a dream that felt so real before. Shaking, I walked out into the hallway where I had collapsed in my dream. I put a hand on the floor, expecting it to be freezing cold as usual.
But it was warm...
“Honey?” I felt the soft hand of my wife touch my shoulder.
“What’s going on? You look white as a sheet.”
“I’m okay...I just...”
On the floor in front me, I noticed the faint trace of fingernail marks.
“Was that there before?” My wife inquired.
“I’m...I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go back to bed. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”
I tried to hold back my stubborn expression, but she still saw it.
“C’mon, you need to rest.”
With an exasperated exhale, I went back to bed with the strange occurrence replaying incessantly in my brain.
In the morning, I told my wife about all the strange experiences. To my shock she actually believed me.
“What do you want to do, then?” She asked.
“Well...I have a theory I want to check out.”
“Theory of what?”
“Well, let’s just say that ghosts exist, and there are certain reasons why they haunt certain places. If that is true then...I think there could be a body in our crawlspace.”
“What, are you crazy?”
“I know how it sounds, but what would it hurt to look?”
“You really think there’s something down there?”
“More someone, but I’m not sure to be honest. Hopefully I can get a confirmation either way it goes.”
That afternoon, I found myself standing at the door to our crawlspace. It felt ridiculous, but so many details pointed to it. The sounds and cold spots were all related to the floor. The ghastly woman’s clothes were smeared with dirt. It was obscure, but it was all I had to go on.
I had to pry the door open with a crowbar, but I managed after a minute or two. A wave of unnatural cold air blasted me, so strong that I had to throw on a coat just to stop from shivering so badly.
I clicked on my flashlight, illuminating the eerie underbelly of our home. The dirt sifted under my feet as I crouch-walked around. After hearing it, it only confirmed what I thought I heard from under the floor.
Expecting to see more, I was almost disappointed that the crawlspace was completely bare. Not believing it entirely, I shined my light around more. The back part of the crawlspace led to concrete and it was there that I noticed one section of the wall looked different than the rest.
Hands quivering, I pushed against the section of concrete and felt it shift under the pressure. It continued to wobble around in place the more I pushed. Holding my flashlight between my teeth, I had to use both hands to pry the piece away from the wall. To my astonishment, it pulled away very easily. It was no coincidence that the section of wall fit the hole exactly, like a puzzle piece.
After leaning the piece of concrete against the wall, I found that the concrete was covering a door with a padlock.
There’s no way anything good is behind this...
Minutes later, I returned to the mysterious door with a pair of bolt cutters. I debated whether or not I’d go in. There was no reason I shouldn’t satisfy my curiosity, because if there wasn’t anything then great, but if there was something terrible, I’d simply have to deal with it. Either way, I had to know.
I clipped the metal bar off the lock and it thudded softly to the dirt floor. Taking in a deep breath, I dared to aim my beam down the opening. The crawlspace extended much further into the house, and I had a good guess where it led. I now had to crawl on my hands and knees as a knot of dread formed in my stomach.
“You always tell people not to do this in movies, why are you doing this now??!” I chastised myself.
I knew all too well how stupid this was but the part of my brain that can’t look away from a car wreck pushed me to carry along regardless.
It was difficult to navigate with the flashlight and crawl. A mild claustrophobia settled in that pushed me along with a sense of urgency. The temperature couldn’t have been any more than a meatlocker. My hands shook despite my thick jacket. Eventually, I came to a dead end.
Is this all?
I stopped for a moment and checked around with my light some more, hoping a more thorough search would bear some fruit. Yet, there was nothing.
Sighing in frustration, I decided that perhaps I was losing my mind and was just having really vivid dreams after all. How could I have been so stupid?
I made it halfway across the hidden area when I felt my legs suddenly give out. They weren’t tired or sore before this. It was as if they stopped working of their own volition. I attempted to cry out, but my mouth felt as if some force held it closed.
Just like a stitched mouth...
One of the few things I could move was my neck and I turned to the side to see...
…a tuft of a blanket?
Due to the narrow space, I must have missed it. I slowly reached for it with all the internal alarms in my body going off at once. Ignoring the warning, I pulled the cloth back to reveal a skeletal hand.
In this moment of revulsion, something turned on my motor skills again as I regained control of my legs, crawling out of there as quickly as I could muster. Heaving, I stumbled out of the crawlspace and instantly felt the rise in temperature. I sat on the porch and stayed there as I called the police and explained the situation.
It turns out that one of the previous owners of the home was a major suspect in the disappearance of a young lady fifteen years ago. There wasn’t enough evidence to conduct a home search so they were never able to find the body. And what they found was something I wish I had never known.
From examining the body, they found that her captor had broken both of her legs so she couldn’t escape and sewn her mouth shut to keep her from screaming. It was hard to tell how long she’d been locked down there before she died, but they hypothesized it was a month or two. The cause of death was unclear. This was clearly enough to pursue the former owner.
When they picked him up, the guy tried to play the ignorance card, pretending as if he didn’t know what house they were referring to. This of course made it even more suspicious.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything concrete enough to tie him to her death...until they searched his current home. Blueprints of the home showed that the crawlspace was supposed to end ten feet where the concrete wall was. No contractors were hired to do any work on the home, so someone had personally busted it up and created the door going further in. The last part of it was the padlock on the door.
When the police searched the man’s home, they found a shoebox full of seemingly innocent keepsakes. Among the keepsakes were some heirlooms, pictures of close family members, and a key. As suspected, the key matched the padlock to the crawlspace door. It was apparently enough to make him crack. It wasn’t long before he confessed to the kidnapping and murder, albeit without a hint of remorse. Turns out the bastard kept the key as a sick trophy.
They even questioned him about other possible victims since this was a trait commonly shared by serial killers. He denied it, but the police couldn’t feel any truth from it. If anything they knew that they solved one case, put a guilty man behind bars, and put a family at peace. Justice was served and he was locked away for the rest of his miserable life. Poetic justice, if you ask me. The poor girl’s parents buried her remains on a family plot.
After all this, we had serious doubts about staying in the home. Knowing something this egregious happened in our home was almost unbearable. I can’t tell you how much we cried when we heard the story of what happened to that poor girl. We were on the brink of selling the house for about a week, but one night changed all that.
I woke up from a dream, one so vivid yet it somehow escaped my thoughts like a fistful of sand. There was a strange feeling in my gut as if something was going to happen.
It was neither good nor bad, just....strange.
After drinking a small glass of milk, I meandered down the hall and stopped in my tracks. A woman stood in front of me, half-transparent with a bluish luminescence. I felt as if I knew her, although I didn’t recognize her appearance at all. She smiled, and I instantly knew who she was. Compared to her previous horrific manifestation, the woman was almost unrecognizable.
Never speaking, she motioned to her legs and I saw that they were in perfect condition. In a mild state of shock, I managed to form a smile. She beamed even wider and ran her fingers across her lips, pointing out her lack of stitches. A blanket of warmth wrapped around me, and I couldn’t resist the salty tears that streamed down my face.
Right before she waved goodbye, a voice spoke within my mind.
"It’s over now. Thank you..."
She faded away, and for the first time since we moved into that house, all hints of the oppressive energy dissipated. That was the last time I ever saw her.
It’s been 30 years now, and we’re still in that house to this day...
May she continue to rest in peace...

Like all haunted house stories, this took place right after I moved in. Cliché, right? My wife and I saved up enough money from our rental to finally put down on a house of our own. So we moved in and everything seemed right...at first.
It wasn’t until later that I realized there were warning signs. The seller seemed really anxious to close, and we were offered a much cheaper price than we expected for the space we got. While there was a moment of doubt, we brushed it off as some weird circumstance that ended in a great deal for us.
How could we possibly pass that up?
The strange occurrences were small at first. I would be up late watching TV and swore I heard something. I’d pause the show and make out what sounded like dragging noises. After investigating, I wouldn’t find anything. Even stranger was that no matter where I walked in the house, the noise always sounded the same distance away. When I focused on it, I noticed the particular noise was rhythmic.
Tap, tap...sliiiiiiide.
It was like that every single time. My wife never heard it, it was only me. None of us believe in ghosts, mind you. But as I said before it was a small thing, so I brushed it off.
One night, I woke up in a startle. I listened intently but could hear nothing. I decided to grab a late night snack from the kitchen since I was awake anyway.
Halfway down the hall, I heard something. This time, it sounded like dirt being sifted und. I knelt down and swore that the sound was louder. Before I knew it, I had my ear pressed to the hardwood floor, listening intently.
Schht, schht.....sccchhhhhhh...
I jumped up from the floor. It was that same pattern of noises, but this time it sounded like someone in the dirt. Trying to ignore the chills washing over me, I took a step towards the kitchen when…
…something grabbed my ankle.
I fell forward, almost busting my chin on the floor.
“What the...”
Flipping over, I turned to face my assailant, but there was no one behind me. I brushed it off and chalked it up to poor balance from a sleep-hangover. My wife got a good chuckle out of that one.
After that, the house began to feel.....heavier. It was this weight over me that would come and go. This was accompanied by feeling cold no matter how much we turned up the heat, and this was the middle of the summer. Even stranger, the cold seemed to only be in certain spots, particularly on the floor itself. I liked to walk around barefoot no matter what time of year it was, but it was even too cold for me.
Another night, I woke up again. My ears stood at attention, but couldn’t hear any evidence of what woke me up. I got up just like before, except I never made it to the kitchen.
I only made if halfway down our hall before I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my right leg. I had to limp to keep moving, then my other leg was wracked with a wave of pain. It was so bad I found myself face down on the ground, writhing in agony.
Then I heard it again…that awful succession of noises.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
The sliding sound was coming from the hardwood floor this time, not from underneath. And the sound was getting closer and closer until...
I watched in horror as a hand came around the corner in front of me. It was soon joined by another, and they tugged at the floor. My heart hammered in my chest as a person slowly came into view.
It was a woman with long black hair, her disheveled clothing smeared with dirt and hanging off in shreds. Her mouth was crudely stitched shut. She looked up at me with empty, lost eyes and I instantly felt a lifetime of pain and misery. It took my breath away, and I had to focus on my breathing to keep myself from fainting.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
That awful sound repeated as she grabbed the floor and pulled herself towards me. I was in a terrified trance, eyes locked with her as she slowly closed the distance. I could now see that she dragged herself because her legs were horribly mangled. A low moan emanated from her throat, sending ice through my veins.
Her very presence seemed to drain me, and I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. She made this awful gurgling sound as she got within arm’s reach. In seconds, her face was right up to mine. I tried to scream, but couldn’t make any sound.
Then...I woke up.
“AAAAHHhhh!” I shouted as I sprang up in bed.
My wife tried to console me, but it did very little. I’d never had a dream that felt so real before. Shaking, I walked out into the hallway where I had collapsed in my dream. I put a hand on the floor, expecting it to be freezing cold as usual.
But it was warm...
“Honey?” I felt the soft hand of my wife touch my shoulder.
“What’s going on? You look white as a sheet.”
“I’m okay...I just...”
On the floor in front me, I noticed the faint trace of fingernail marks.
“Was that there before?” My wife inquired.
“I’m...I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go back to bed. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”
I tried to hold back my stubborn expression, but she still saw it.
“C’mon, you need to rest.”
With an exasperated exhale, I went back to bed with the strange occurrence replaying incessantly in my brain.
In the morning, I told my wife about all the strange experiences. To my shock she actually believed me.
“What do you want to do, then?” She asked.
“Well...I have a theory I want to check out.”
“Theory of what?”
“Well, let’s just say that ghosts exist, and there are certain reasons why they haunt certain places. If that is true then...I think there could be a body in our crawlspace.”
“What, are you crazy?”
“I know how it sounds, but what would it hurt to look?”
“You really think there’s something down there?”
“More someone, but I’m not sure to be honest. Hopefully I can get a confirmation either way it goes.”
That afternoon, I found myself standing at the door to our crawlspace. It felt ridiculous, but so many details pointed to it. The sounds and cold spots were all related to the floor. The ghastly woman’s clothes were smeared with dirt. It was obscure, but it was all I had to go on.
I had to pry the door open with a crowbar, but I managed after a minute or two. A wave of unnatural cold air blasted me, so strong that I had to throw on a coat just to stop from shivering so badly.
I clicked on my flashlight, illuminating the eerie underbelly of our home. The dirt sifted under my feet as I crouch-walked around. After hearing it, it only confirmed what I thought I heard from under the floor.
Expecting to see more, I was almost disappointed that the crawlspace was completely bare. Not believing it entirely, I shined my light around more. The back part of the crawlspace led to concrete and it was there that I noticed one section of the wall looked different than the rest.
Hands quivering, I pushed against the section of concrete and felt it shift under the pressure. It continued to wobble around in place the more I pushed. Holding my flashlight between my teeth, I had to use both hands to pry the piece away from the wall. To my astonishment, it pulled away very easily. It was no coincidence that the section of wall fit the hole exactly, like a puzzle piece.
After leaning the piece of concrete against the wall, I found that the concrete was covering a door with a padlock.
There’s no way anything good is behind this...
Minutes later, I returned to the mysterious door with a pair of bolt cutters. I debated whether or not I’d go in. There was no reason I shouldn’t satisfy my curiosity, because if there wasn’t anything then great, but if there was something terrible, I’d simply have to deal with it. Either way, I had to know.
I clipped the metal bar off the lock and it thudded softly to the dirt floor. Taking in a deep breath, I dared to aim my beam down the opening. The crawlspace extended much further into the house, and I had a good guess where it led. I now had to crawl on my hands and knees as a knot of dread formed in my stomach.
“You always tell people not to do this in movies, why are you doing this now??!” I chastised myself.
I knew all too well how stupid this was but the part of my brain that can’t look away from a car wreck pushed me to carry along regardless.
It was difficult to navigate with the flashlight and crawl. A mild claustrophobia settled in that pushed me along with a sense of urgency. The temperature couldn’t have been any more than a meatlocker. My hands shook despite my thick jacket. Eventually, I came to a dead end.
Is this all?
I stopped for a moment and checked around with my light some more, hoping a more thorough search would bear some fruit. Yet, there was nothing.
Sighing in frustration, I decided that perhaps I was losing my mind and was just having really vivid dreams after all. How could I have been so stupid?
I made it halfway across the hidden area when I felt my legs suddenly give out. They weren’t tired or sore before this. It was as if they stopped working of their own volition. I attempted to cry out, but my mouth felt as if some force held it closed.
Just like a stitched mouth...
One of the few things I could move was my neck and I turned to the side to see...
…a tuft of a blanket?
Due to the narrow space, I must have missed it. I slowly reached for it with all the internal alarms in my body going off at once. Ignoring the warning, I pulled the cloth back to reveal a skeletal hand.
In this moment of revulsion, something turned on my motor skills again as I regained control of my legs, crawling out of there as quickly as I could muster. Heaving, I stumbled out of the crawlspace and instantly felt the rise in temperature. I sat on the porch and stayed there as I called the police and explained the situation.
It turns out that one of the previous owners of the home was a major suspect in the disappearance of a young lady fifteen years ago. There wasn’t enough evidence to conduct a home search so they were never able to find the body. And what they found was something I wish I had never known.
From examining the body, they found that her captor had broken both of her legs so she couldn’t escape and sewn her mouth shut to keep her from screaming. It was hard to tell how long she’d been locked down there before she died, but they hypothesized it was a month or two. The cause of death was unclear. This was clearly enough to pursue the former owner.
When they picked him up, the guy tried to play the ignorance card, pretending as if he didn’t know what house they were referring to. This of course made it even more suspicious.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything concrete enough to tie him to her death...until they searched his current home. Blueprints of the home showed that the crawlspace was supposed to end ten feet where the concrete wall was. No contractors were hired to do any work on the home, so someone had personally busted it up and created the door going further in. The last part of it was the padlock on the door.
When the police searched the man’s home, they found a shoebox full of seemingly innocent keepsakes. Among the keepsakes were some heirlooms, pictures of close family members, and a key. As suspected, the key matched the padlock to the crawlspace door. It was apparently enough to make him crack. It wasn’t long before he confessed to the kidnapping and murder, albeit without a hint of remorse. Turns out the bastard kept the key as a sick trophy.
They even questioned him about other possible victims since this was a trait commonly shared by serial killers. He denied it, but the police couldn’t feel any truth from it. If anything they knew that they solved one case, put a guilty man behind bars, and put a family at peace. Justice was served and he was locked away for the rest of his miserable life. Poetic justice, if you ask me. The poor girl’s parents buried her remains on a family plot.
After all this, we had serious doubts about staying in the home. Knowing something this egregious happened in our home was almost unbearable. I can’t tell you how much we cried when we heard the story of what happened to that poor girl. We were on the brink of selling the house for about a week, but one night changed all that.
I woke up from a dream, one so vivid yet it somehow escaped my thoughts like a fistful of sand. There was a strange feeling in my gut as if something was going to happen.
It was neither good nor bad, just....strange.
After drinking a small glass of milk, I meandered down the hall and stopped in my tracks. A woman stood in front of me, half-transparent with a bluish luminescence. I felt as if I knew her, although I didn’t recognize her appearance at all. She smiled, and I instantly knew who she was. Compared to her previous horrific manifestation, the woman was almost unrecognizable.
Never speaking, she motioned to her legs and I saw that they were in perfect condition. In a mild state of shock, I managed to form a smile. She beamed even wider and ran her fingers across her lips, pointing out her lack of stitches. A blanket of warmth wrapped around me, and I couldn’t resist the salty tears that streamed down my face.
Right before she waved goodbye, a voice spoke within my mind.
"It’s over now. Thank you..."
She faded away, and for the first time since we moved into that house, all hints of the oppressive energy dissipated. That was the last time I ever saw her.
It’s been 30 years now, and we’re still in that house to this day...
May she continue to rest in peace...

Like all haunted house stories, this took place right after I moved in. Cliché, right? My wife and I saved up enough money from our rental to finally put down on a house of our own. So we moved in and everything seemed right...at first.
It wasn’t until later that I realized there were warning signs. The seller seemed really anxious to close, and we were offered a much cheaper price than we expected for the space we got. While there was a moment of doubt, we brushed it off as some weird circumstance that ended in a great deal for us.
How could we possibly pass that up?
The strange occurrences were small at first. I would be up late watching TV and swore I heard something. I’d pause the show and make out what sounded like dragging noises. After investigating, I wouldn’t find anything. Even stranger was that no matter where I walked in the house, the noise always sounded the same distance away. When I focused on it, I noticed the particular noise was rhythmic.
Tap, tap...sliiiiiiide.
It was like that every single time. My wife never heard it, it was only me. None of us believe in ghosts, mind you. But as I said before it was a small thing, so I brushed it off.
One night, I woke up in a startle. I listened intently but could hear nothing. I decided to grab a late night snack from the kitchen since I was awake anyway.
Halfway down the hall, I heard something. This time, it sounded like dirt being sifted und. I knelt down and swore that the sound was louder. Before I knew it, I had my ear pressed to the hardwood floor, listening intently.
Schht, schht.....sccchhhhhhh...
I jumped up from the floor. It was that same pattern of noises, but this time it sounded like someone in the dirt. Trying to ignore the chills washing over me, I took a step towards the kitchen when…
…something grabbed my ankle.
I fell forward, almost busting my chin on the floor.
“What the...”
Flipping over, I turned to face my assailant, but there was no one behind me. I brushed it off and chalked it up to poor balance from a sleep-hangover. My wife got a good chuckle out of that one.
After that, the house began to feel.....heavier. It was this weight over me that would come and go. This was accompanied by feeling cold no matter how much we turned up the heat, and this was the middle of the summer. Even stranger, the cold seemed to only be in certain spots, particularly on the floor itself. I liked to walk around barefoot no matter what time of year it was, but it was even too cold for me.
Another night, I woke up again. My ears stood at attention, but couldn’t hear any evidence of what woke me up. I got up just like before, except I never made it to the kitchen.
I only made if halfway down our hall before I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my right leg. I had to limp to keep moving, then my other leg was wracked with a wave of pain. It was so bad I found myself face down on the ground, writhing in agony.
Then I heard it again…that awful succession of noises.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
The sliding sound was coming from the hardwood floor this time, not from underneath. And the sound was getting closer and closer until...
I watched in horror as a hand came around the corner in front of me. It was soon joined by another, and they tugged at the floor. My heart hammered in my chest as a person slowly came into view.
It was a woman with long black hair, her disheveled clothing smeared with dirt and hanging off in shreds. Her mouth was crudely stitched shut. She looked up at me with empty, lost eyes and I instantly felt a lifetime of pain and misery. It took my breath away, and I had to focus on my breathing to keep myself from fainting.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
That awful sound repeated as she grabbed the floor and pulled herself towards me. I was in a terrified trance, eyes locked with her as she slowly closed the distance. I could now see that she dragged herself because her legs were horribly mangled. A low moan emanated from her throat, sending ice through my veins.
Her very presence seemed to drain me, and I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. She made this awful gurgling sound as she got within arm’s reach. In seconds, her face was right up to mine. I tried to scream, but couldn’t make any sound.
Then...I woke up.
“AAAAHHhhh!” I shouted as I sprang up in bed.
My wife tried to console me, but it did very little. I’d never had a dream that felt so real before. Shaking, I walked out into the hallway where I had collapsed in my dream. I put a hand on the floor, expecting it to be freezing cold as usual.
But it was warm...
“Honey?” I felt the soft hand of my wife touch my shoulder.
“What’s going on? You look white as a sheet.”
“I’m okay...I just...”
On the floor in front me, I noticed the faint trace of fingernail marks.
“Was that there before?” My wife inquired.
“I’m...I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go back to bed. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”
I tried to hold back my stubborn expression, but she still saw it.
“C’mon, you need to rest.”
With an exasperated exhale, I went back to bed with the strange occurrence replaying incessantly in my brain.
In the morning, I told my wife about all the strange experiences. To my shock she actually believed me.
“What do you want to do, then?” She asked.
“Well...I have a theory I want to check out.”
“Theory of what?”
“Well, let’s just say that ghosts exist, and there are certain reasons why they haunt certain places. If that is true then...I think there could be a body in our crawlspace.”
“What, are you crazy?”
“I know how it sounds, but what would it hurt to look?”
“You really think there’s something down there?”
“More someone, but I’m not sure to be honest. Hopefully I can get a confirmation either way it goes.”
That afternoon, I found myself standing at the door to our crawlspace. It felt ridiculous, but so many details pointed to it. The sounds and cold spots were all related to the floor. The ghastly woman’s clothes were smeared with dirt. It was obscure, but it was all I had to go on.
I had to pry the door open with a crowbar, but I managed after a minute or two. A wave of unnatural cold air blasted me, so strong that I had to throw on a coat just to stop from shivering so badly.
I clicked on my flashlight, illuminating the eerie underbelly of our home. The dirt sifted under my feet as I crouch-walked around. After hearing it, it only confirmed what I thought I heard from under the floor.
Expecting to see more, I was almost disappointed that the crawlspace was completely bare. Not believing it entirely, I shined my light around more. The back part of the crawlspace led to concrete and it was there that I noticed one section of the wall looked different than the rest.
Hands quivering, I pushed against the section of concrete and felt it shift under the pressure. It continued to wobble around in place the more I pushed. Holding my flashlight between my teeth, I had to use both hands to pry the piece away from the wall. To my astonishment, it pulled away very easily. It was no coincidence that the section of wall fit the hole exactly, like a puzzle piece.
After leaning the piece of concrete against the wall, I found that the concrete was covering a door with a padlock.
There’s no way anything good is behind this...
Minutes later, I returned to the mysterious door with a pair of bolt cutters. I debated whether or not I’d go in. There was no reason I shouldn’t satisfy my curiosity, because if there wasn’t anything then great, but if there was something terrible, I’d simply have to deal with it. Either way, I had to know.
I clipped the metal bar off the lock and it thudded softly to the dirt floor. Taking in a deep breath, I dared to aim my beam down the opening. The crawlspace extended much further into the house, and I had a good guess where it led. I now had to crawl on my hands and knees as a knot of dread formed in my stomach.
“You always tell people not to do this in movies, why are you doing this now??!” I chastised myself.
I knew all too well how stupid this was but the part of my brain that can’t look away from a car wreck pushed me to carry along regardless.
It was difficult to navigate with the flashlight and crawl. A mild claustrophobia settled in that pushed me along with a sense of urgency. The temperature couldn’t have been any more than a meatlocker. My hands shook despite my thick jacket. Eventually, I came to a dead end.
Is this all?
I stopped for a moment and checked around with my light some more, hoping a more thorough search would bear some fruit. Yet, there was nothing.
Sighing in frustration, I decided that perhaps I was losing my mind and was just having really vivid dreams after all. How could I have been so stupid?
I made it halfway across the hidden area when I felt my legs suddenly give out. They weren’t tired or sore before this. It was as if they stopped working of their own volition. I attempted to cry out, but my mouth felt as if some force held it closed.
Just like a stitched mouth...
One of the few things I could move was my neck and I turned to the side to see...
…a tuft of a blanket?
Due to the narrow space, I must have missed it. I slowly reached for it with all the internal alarms in my body going off at once. Ignoring the warning, I pulled the cloth back to reveal a skeletal hand.
In this moment of revulsion, something turned on my motor skills again as I regained control of my legs, crawling out of there as quickly as I could muster. Heaving, I stumbled out of the crawlspace and instantly felt the rise in temperature. I sat on the porch and stayed there as I called the police and explained the situation.
It turns out that one of the previous owners of the home was a major suspect in the disappearance of a young lady fifteen years ago. There wasn’t enough evidence to conduct a home search so they were never able to find the body. And what they found was something I wish I had never known.
From examining the body, they found that her captor had broken both of her legs so she couldn’t escape and sewn her mouth shut to keep her from screaming. It was hard to tell how long she’d been locked down there before she died, but they hypothesized it was a month or two. The cause of death was unclear. This was clearly enough to pursue the former owner.
When they picked him up, the guy tried to play the ignorance card, pretending as if he didn’t know what house they were referring to. This of course made it even more suspicious.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything concrete enough to tie him to her death...until they searched his current home. Blueprints of the home showed that the crawlspace was supposed to end ten feet where the concrete wall was. No contractors were hired to do any work on the home, so someone had personally busted it up and created the door going further in. The last part of it was the padlock on the door.
When the police searched the man’s home, they found a shoebox full of seemingly innocent keepsakes. Among the keepsakes were some heirlooms, pictures of close family members, and a key. As suspected, the key matched the padlock to the crawlspace door. It was apparently enough to make him crack. It wasn’t long before he confessed to the kidnapping and murder, albeit without a hint of remorse. Turns out the bastard kept the key as a sick trophy.
They even questioned him about other possible victims since this was a trait commonly shared by serial killers. He denied it, but the police couldn’t feel any truth from it. If anything they knew that they solved one case, put a guilty man behind bars, and put a family at peace. Justice was served and he was locked away for the rest of his miserable life. Poetic justice, if you ask me. The poor girl’s parents buried her remains on a family plot.
After all this, we had serious doubts about staying in the home. Knowing something this egregious happened in our home was almost unbearable. I can’t tell you how much we cried when we heard the story of what happened to that poor girl. We were on the brink of selling the house for about a week, but one night changed all that.
I woke up from a dream, one so vivid yet it somehow escaped my thoughts like a fistful of sand. There was a strange feeling in my gut as if something was going to happen.
It was neither good nor bad, just....strange.
After drinking a small glass of milk, I meandered down the hall and stopped in my tracks. A woman stood in front of me, half-transparent with a bluish luminescence. I felt as if I knew her, although I didn’t recognize her appearance at all. She smiled, and I instantly knew who she was. Compared to her previous horrific manifestation, the woman was almost unrecognizable.
Never speaking, she motioned to her legs and I saw that they were in perfect condition. In a mild state of shock, I managed to form a smile. She beamed even wider and ran her fingers across her lips, pointing out her lack of stitches. A blanket of warmth wrapped around me, and I couldn’t resist the salty tears that streamed down my face.
Right before she waved goodbye, a voice spoke within my mind.
"It’s over now. Thank you..."
She faded away, and for the first time since we moved into that house, all hints of the oppressive energy dissipated. That was the last time I ever saw her.
It’s been 30 years now, and we’re still in that house to this day...
May she continue to rest in peace...

My fiancé and I are visiting for 4th of July weekend and I’ve been so into this thread and everyone’s recommendations! I’ve been writing down creative places to visit in my notes app for when we get there.
For fun, I put our trip dates into ChatGPT and asked it to plan our complete trip, with options for breakfast, brunch/lunch and dinner for each day (even though we probably wouldn’t go for every meal but just wanted the recs) as well as fun touristy/must see and do things. This is what it gave me! In general we love trying new restaurants and bars and both love country music/live music. We’d love some guidance on how to spend 4th of July. It seems good but just wanted to ask locals/past visitors if this checks out?!
And please feel free to make other suggestions or changes, thank you!
Nashville 4th of July Weekend Itinerary
Thursday, July 4
Morning - Breakfast: Start your day at Frothy Monkey in Downtown Nashville. They offer a great selection of breakfast dishes, including their famous avocado toast and hearty breakfast bowls. - Activity: Take a leisurely stroll through Centennial Park and visit the Parthenon, a full-scale replica of the original Parthenon in Athens.
Afternoon - Lunch: Head over to The Southern Steak & Oyster. Enjoy Southern comfort food with a twist, like their signature steak and oyster dishes. - Activity: Explore the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. Dive into the rich history of country music with interactive exhibits and memorabilia.
Evening - Dinner: Make reservations at Husk. Known for its creative Southern cuisine and use of local ingredients, it's a dining experience not to miss. - Activity: Celebrate Independence Day by joining the Nashville 4th of July Fireworks Show at Riverfront Park. It's one of the largest fireworks displays in the country, accompanied by a live performance from the Nashville Symphony.
Friday, July 5
Morning - Breakfast: Enjoy a classic Southern breakfast at Biscuit Love in the Gulch. Don't miss their famous "Bonuts" (biscuit donuts). - Activity: Visit the Johnny Cash Museum to learn about the life and legacy of the Man in Black.
Afternoon - Lunch: Stop by Hattie B's Hot Chicken for some mouth-watering Nashville hot chicken. Choose your spice level wisely! - Activity: Take a tour of the Ryman Auditorium, known as the "Mother Church of Country Music." The guided tours offer a deep dive into its storied past.
Evening - Dinner: Experience the fine dining at Etch, known for its inventive global cuisine and excellent wine list. - Activity: Check out a show at the Grand Ole Opry. It’s a quintessential Nashville experience showcasing the best in country music.
Saturday, July 6
Morning - Brunch: Head to Pinewood Social. This spot is not only known for its great food but also has a bowling alley, making it a fun place to start your day. - Activity: Explore The Gulch. This trendy neighborhood is great for boutique shopping, murals for Instagram photos, and coffee at Killebrew Coffee.
Afternoon - Lunch: Try Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint for some authentic Tennessee BBQ. - Activity: Visit the Frist Art Museum for a dose of culture. The rotating exhibits ensure there's always something new and exciting to see.
Evening - Dinner: Enjoy a meal at 5th & Taylor in Germantown, offering a relaxed yet refined dining experience with modern American cuisine. - Activity: Bar hopping in Broadway. Visit famous honky-tonks like Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge, Robert’s Western World, and The Stage for live music and dancing.
Sunday, July 7
Morning - Breakfast: Have breakfast at The Loveless Cafe. It’s a bit of a drive from downtown but worth it for the biscuits and Southern charm. - Activity: Take a scenic drive on the Natchez Trace Parkway. Stop by Belle Meade Plantation for a historical tour and wine tasting.
Afternoon - Lunch: Head to Arnold’s Country Kitchen for a classic “meat and three” meal. - Activity: Walk off lunch at Cheekwood Estate & Gardens, where you can explore beautiful gardens and art exhibits.
Evening - Dinner: End your trip with a dinner at City House in Germantown, known for its Italian-inspired menu and cozy atmosphere. - Activity: Relax and unwind at Skull’s Rainbow Room in Printer's Alley. It offers a great atmosphere, live jazz, and delicious cocktails.
Bars to Visit: - The Patterson House: For craft cocktails in a speakeasy-style bar. - Acme Feed & Seed: A multi-level bar with live music and great rooftop views. - LA Jackson: A trendy rooftop bar at the Thompson Hotel with great skyline views.
Must-See Tourist Attractions: - Nashville’s Music Row - The Bluebird Cafe (make reservations in advance) - Bicentennial Capitol Mall State Park

So with state of decay seemingly around the corner I was thinking that alongside of having pre-built bases scattered around the map. We could also have the ability to build our own base. Kind of like a Subnautica, Minecraft or rust situation where we use equipment like pickaxes to gather supplies find location for a base and start building it. You know walls, foundations, doors, stairs if need be and we also have the ability to upgrade our base so we start off with the wooden base but as time goes on as we progress through the game, we upgrade the walls with stone and then maybe metal as well as having stations inside the base like a workshop a kitchen and infirmary and the effectiveness or “level” of the station is based off of the size of it so overtime if the infirmary is too small to handle nine survivors, we can gather more materials to either expand or completely rebuild that specific part of the base
Thoughts?

Like all haunted house stories, this took place right after I moved in. Cliché, right? My wife and I saved up enough money from our rental to finally put down on a house of our own. So we moved in and everything seemed right...at first.
It wasn’t until later that I realized there were warning signs. The seller seemed really anxious to close, and we were offered a much cheaper price than we expected for the space we got. While there was a moment of doubt, we brushed it off as some weird circumstance that ended in a great deal for us.
How could we possibly pass that up?
The strange occurrences were small at first. I would be up late watching TV and swore I heard something. I’d pause the show and make out what sounded like dragging noises. After investigating, I wouldn’t find anything. Even stranger was that no matter where I walked in the house, the noise always sounded the same distance away. When I focused on it, I noticed the particular noise was rhythmic.
Tap, tap...sliiiiiiide.
It was like that every single time. My wife never heard it, it was only me. None of us believe in ghosts, mind you. But as I said before it was a small thing, so I brushed it off.
One night, I woke up in a startle. I listened intently but could hear nothing. I decided to grab a late night snack from the kitchen since I was awake anyway.
Halfway down the hall, I heard something. This time, it sounded like dirt being sifted und. I knelt down and swore that the sound was louder. Before I knew it, I had my ear pressed to the hardwood floor, listening intently.
Schht, schht.....sccchhhhhhh...
I jumped up from the floor. It was that same pattern of noises, but this time it sounded like someone in the dirt. Trying to ignore the chills washing over me, I took a step towards the kitchen when…
…something grabbed my ankle.
I fell forward, almost busting my chin on the floor.
“What the...”
Flipping over, I turned to face my assailant, but there was no one behind me. I brushed it off and chalked it up to poor balance from a sleep-hangover. My wife got a good chuckle out of that one.
After that, the house began to feel.....heavier. It was this weight over me that would come and go. This was accompanied by feeling cold no matter how much we turned up the heat, and this was the middle of the sumer. Even stranger, the cold seemed to only be in certain spots, particularly on the floor itself. I liked to walk around barefoot no matter what time of year it was, but it was even too cold for me.
Another night, I woke up again. My ears stood at attention, but couldn’t hear any evidence of what woke me up. I got up just like before, except I never made it to the kitchen.
I only made if halfway down our hall before I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my right leg. I had to limp to keep moving, then my other leg was wracked with a wave of pain. It was so bad I found myself face down on the ground, writhing in agony.
Then I heard it again…that awful succession of noises.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
The sliding sound was coming from the hardwood floor this time, not from underneath. And the sound was getting closer and closer until...
I watched in horror as a hand came around the corner in front of me. It was soon joined by another, and they tugged at the floor. My heart hammered in my chest as a person slowly came into view.
It was a woman with long black hair, her disheveled clothing smeared with dirt and hanging off in shreds. Her mouth was crudely stitched shut. She looked up at me with empty, lost eyes and I instantly felt a lifetime of pain and misery. It took my breath away, and I had to focus on my breathing to keep myself from fainting.
Tap, tap....sliiiiiide.
That awful sound repeated as she grabbed the floor and pulled herself towards me. I was in a terrified trance, eyes locked with her as she slowly closed the distance. I could now see that she dragged herself because her legs were horribly mangled. A low moan emanated from her throat, sending ice through my veins.
Her very presence seemed to drain me, and I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. She made this awful gurgling sound as she got within arm’s reach. In seconds, her face was right up to mine. I tried to scream, but couldn’t make any sound.
Then...I woke up.
“AAAAHHhhh!” I shouted as I sprang up in bed.
My wife tried to console me, but it did very little. I’d never had a dream that felt so real before. Shaking, I walked out into the hallway where I had collapsed in my dream. I put a hand on the floor, expecting it to be freezing cold as usual.
But it was warm...
“Honey?” I felt the soft hand of my wife touch my shoulder.
“What’s going on? You look white as a sheet.”
“I’m okay...I just...”
On the floor in front me, I noticed the faint trace of fingernail marks.
“Was that there before?” My wife inquired.
“I’m...I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go back to bed. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”
I tried to hold back my stubborn expression, but she still saw it.
“C’mon, you need to rest.”
With an exasperated exhale, I went back to bed with the strange occurrence replaying incessantly in my brain.
In the morning, I told my wife about all the strange experiences. To my shock she actually believed me.
“What do you want to do, then?” She asked.
“Well...I have a theory I want to check out.”
“Theory of what?”
“Well, let’s just say that ghosts exist, and there are certain reasons why they haunt certain places. If that is true then...I think there could be a body in our crawlspace.”
“What, are you crazy?”
“I know how it sounds, but what would it hurt to look?”
“You really think there’s something down there?”
“More someone, but I’m not sure to be honest. Hopefully I can get a confirmation either way it goes.”
That afternoon, I found myself standing at the door to our crawlspace. It felt ridiculous, but so many details pointed to it. The sounds and cold spots were all related to the floor. The ghastly woman’s clothes were smeared with dirt. It was obscure, but it was all I had to go on.
I had to pry the door open with a crowbar, but I managed after a minute or two. A wave of unnatural cold air blasted me, so strong that I had to throw on a coat just to stop from shivering so badly.
I clicked on my flashlight, illuminating the eerie underbelly of our home. The dirt sifted under my feet as I crouch-walked around. After hearing it, it only confirmed what I thought I heard from under the floor.
Expecting to see more, I was almost disappointed that the crawlspace was completely bare. Not believing it entirely, I shined my light around more. The back part of the crawlspace led to concrete and it was there that I noticed one section of the wall looked different than the rest.
Hands quivering, I pushed against the section of concrete and felt it shift under the pressure. It continued to wobble around in place the more I pushed. Holding my flashlight between my teeth, I had to use both hands to pry the piece away from the wall. To my astonishment, it pulled away very easily. It was no coincidence that the section of wall fit the hole exactly, like a puzzle piece.
After leaning the piece of concrete against the wall, I found that the concrete was covering a door with a padlock.
There’s no way anything good is behind this...
Minutes later, I returned to the mysterious door with a pair of bolt cutters. I debated whether or not I’d go in. There was no reason I shouldn’t satisfy my curiosity, because if there wasn’t anything then great, but if there was something terrible, I’d simply have to deal with it. Either way, I had to know.
I clipped the metal bar off the lock and it thudded softly to the dirt floor. Taking in a deep breath, I dared to aim my beam down the opening. The crawlspace extended much further into the house, and I had a good guess where it led. I now had to crawl on my hands and knees as a knot of dread formed in my stomach.
“You always tell people not to do this in movies, why are you doing this now??!” I chastised myself.
I knew all too well how stupid this was but the part of my brain that can’t look away from a car wreck pushed me to carry along regardless.
It was difficult to navigate with the flashlight and crawl. A mild claustrophobia settled in that pushed me along with a sense of urgency. The temperature couldn’t have been any more than a meatlocker. My hands shook despite my thick jacket. Eventually, I came to a dead end.
Is this all?
I stopped for a moment and checked around with my light some more, hoping a more thorough search would bear some fruit. Yet, there was nothing.
Sighing in frustration, I decided that perhaps I was losing my mind and was just having really vivid dreams after all. How could I have been so stupid?
I made it halfway across the hidden area when I felt my legs suddenly give out. They weren’t tired or sore before this. It was as if they stopped working of their own volition. I attempted to cry out, but my mouth felt as if some force held it closed.
Just like a stitched mouth...
One of the few things I could move was my neck and I turned to the side to see...
…a tuft of a blanket?
Due to the narrow space, I must have missed it. I slowly reached for it with all the internal alarms in my body going off at once. Ignoring the warning, I pulled the cloth back to reveal a skeletal hand.
In this moment of revulsion, something turned on my motor skills again as I regained control of my legs, crawling out of there as quickly as I could muster. Heaving, I stumbled out of the crawlspace and instantly felt the rise in temperature. I sat on the porch and stayed there as I called the police and explained the situation.
It turns out that one of the previous owners of the home was a major suspect in the disappearance of a young lady fifteen years ago. There wasn’t enough evidence to conduct a home search so they were never able to find the body. And what they found was something I wish I had never known.
From examining the body, they found that her captor had broken both of her legs so she couldn’t escape and sewn her mouth shut to keep her from screaming. It was hard to tell how long she’d been locked down there before she died, but they hypothesized it was a month or two. The cause of death was unclear. This was clearly enough to pursue the former owner.
When they picked him up, the guy tried to play the ignorance card, pretending as if he didn’t know what house they were referring to. This of course made it even more suspicious.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything concrete enough to tie him to her death...until they searched his current home. Blueprints of the home showed that the crawlspace was supposed to end ten feet where the concrete wall was. No contractors were hired to do any work on the home, so someone had personally busted it up and created the door going further in. The last part of it was the padlock on the door.
When the police searched the man’s home, they found a shoebox full of seemingly innocent keepsakes. Among the keepsakes were some heirlooms, pictures of close family members, and a key. As suspected, the key matched the padlock to the crawlspace door. It was apparently enough to make him crack. It wasn’t long before he confessed to the kidnapping and murder, albeit without a hint of remorse. Turns out the bastard kept the key as a sick trophy.
They even questioned him about other possible victims since this was a trait commonly shared by serial killers. He denied it, but the police couldn’t feel any truth from it. If anything they knew that they solved one case, put a guilty man behind bars, and put a family at peace. Justice was served and he was locked away for the rest of his miserable life. Poetic justice, if you ask me. The poor girl’s parents buried her remains on a family plot.
After all this, we had serious doubts about staying in the home. Knowing something this egregious happened in our home was almost unbearable. I can’t tell you how much we cried when we heard the story of what happened to that poor girl. We were on the brink of selling the house for about a week, but one night changed all that.
I woke up from a dream, one so vivid yet it somehow escaped my thoughts like a fistful of sand. There was a strange feeling in my gut as if something was going to happen.
It was neither good nor bad, just....strange.
After drinking a small glass of milk, I meandered down the hall and stopped in my tracks. A woman stood in front of me, half-transparent with a bluish luminescence. I felt as if I knew her, although I didn’t recognize her appearance at all. She smiled, and I instantly knew who she was. Compared to her previous horrific manifestation, the woman was almost unrecognizable.
Never speaking, she motioned to her legs and I saw that they were in perfect condition. In a mild state of shock, I managed to form a smile. She beamed even wider and ran her fingers across her lips, pointing out her lack of stitches. A blanket of warmth wrapped around me, and I couldn’t resist the salty tears that streamed down my face.
Right before she waved goodbye, a voice spoke within my mind.
"It’s over now. Thank you..."
She faded away, and for the first time since we moved into that house, all hints of the oppressive energy dissipated. That was the last time I ever saw her.
It’s been 30 years now, and we’re still in that house to this day...
May she continue to rest in peace...

Hi all, I'm doing a kitchen remodel. Attached (images didn't load on the main post - see them in comments) are the original floor plan (kitchen plus sitting room), the new floor plan (single larger kitchen with island), and a 3d render of the new design (white and walnut cabinets - ignore the other colors). The ceilings will be 10'.
My original design assumed the skylight was going to be over the walkway part of the kitchen (not between the island and cabinets) and I'd sacrifice one of the LED lights. But my wife wants it over the island - which I agree is better overall - but I'm concerned about the impact to task lighting over the island at night.
Right now I'm contemplating the following:

1. Doing two smaller skylights so I can have pendant or LED lighting to the left, center, and right of the skylights.
2. Doing one larger one centered with one LED on either end and putting an LED light vertically in the skylight well and relying on the indirect / bounced light for the middle of the island.

I'm not really happy with either option so seeking other ideas / suggestions for having a skylight (or two) over the island without losing lighting over the island.

TL:DR
You need a vapor barrier and insulation in the floor above a pier and beam crawl space before you install LVP, or any flooring that will create become a vapor barrier.
A lesson learned for me.
We've been working on a fixerupper house. Friday the plan was to lay the LVP in the living room. In preparing for that, I found moisture under the old linoleum and the LVP in the kitchen. We Installed AC about a year ago. And LVP in the kitchen aboutb8 months ago.
The moisture was worse right in front of the AC. There was less moisture as we moved away from the AC. Had to pull up about ten rows of 8 month old LVP on one side of the kitchen before we found dry floor.
A little Googling and I find out this is a known problem. But I never found it mentioned in any manufacturer Install manual. Or in the YouTube vids.
To prevent this, you have to have insulation and vapor barrier in your pier and beam floor. Best recomendation seems to be closed cell spray foam.
So, Monday the insulation Contractor is coming.
In the mean time, I'm ripping up underlayment. The underlayment shows signs of moisture damage, the subfloor doesn't.
Plan forward is let the subfloor dry out. Buy a moisture meter to check it. Closed cell spray foam underneath.
Then back to fixer-upperin'

Hi all, I'm doing a kitchen remodel. Attached (images didn't load on the main post - see them in comments) are the original floor plan (kitchen plus sitting room), the new floor plan (single larger kitchen with island), and a 3d render of the new design (white and walnut cabinets - ignore the other colors). The ceilings will be 10' (yes I know the ceiling height cabinets are hard to reach - but we have plenty of "seasonal" things that will feel perfectly at home up there and they'll be easier to get than if they were in the attic).
Feedback on the base floorplan is welcome, but I'm really looking for thoughts on skylight placement (not reflected in the images).
My original design assumed the skylight was going to be over the walkway part of the kitchen (not between the island and cabinets) and I'd sacrifice one of the LED lights. But my wife wants it over the island - which I agree is better overall - but I'm concerned about the impact to task lighting over the island at night.
Right now I'm contemplating the following:

1. Doing two smaller skylights so I can have pendant or LED lighting to the left, center, and right of the skylights.
2. Doing one larger one centered with one LED on either end and putting an LED light vertically in the skylight well and relying on the indirect / bounced light for the middle of the island.

I'm not really happy with either option so seeking other ideas / suggestions for having a skylight (or two) over the island without losing lighting over the island.

You are NOT ready for this.
Enjoy~
IMPORTANT: When copying and pasting my scripts from Google Docs to Reddit, all of the italics in the scripts vanish, which means that a lot of words lose their intended emphasis. Due to this, I highly encourage you to read the script on the original document, which can be found at the end of this post! Thank you!
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Context
Whilst melancholic tensions brew between Caspian and the human, far away, in the grass, there lies the remnants of an unfortunate affair. With clotted blood upon his brow, and a bullet lodged within his brain, Elias claws through the dirt and dew to escape the rising of the morning sun. He continues to drag his weakened body through the muck, cursing the outcast and everything he stands for, until, suddenly… he hears a voice. A cruel voice, a loving voice, a voice of authority and allure. The voice… of a master.
BEGIN
[The scene opens with the gentle chirping of the morning birds, alongside the staggered breaths of Elias, who is dragging himself across the ground. He claws into the dirt, attempting to pull his body towards the shade of the trees. He speaks in an irritated tone.]
[E] “That halfwit. That… That-”
[A slither of sunlight catches his leg, causing him to recoil slightly. He hisses under his breath.]
“Bastard. Why must the sun rise so hurriedly? I must retreat- I need shade.”
[There’s a small pause as he continues to drag himself across the ground.]
“That dreaded outcast… How is an embarrassment like him able to nurture such strange and useless bonds? The gunman and that beloved fishmonger of his- it’s… it’s absurd. I don’t understand.”
[A brief pause.]
“Please, Master… remain faithful, for I shall ensure that the outcast is dealt with promptly. I’ll string him up and watch with glee as he squirms and chokes, I’ll dismember him for your enjoyment, I-”
[Suddenly, a deep and commanding voice interrupts him from among the trees. Elias stops and looks around in surprise, trying to pinpoint the direction of the voice.]
[???] “Selfish fool. The words you speak are of your own fantasies, not mine.”
[E] “That voice. It cannot be.”
[???] “You test my faith, Elias Acker, for all that I have witnessed from your reckless behaviour is failure. Caspian is not the object of my interest… the human is. You are losing sight of this.”
[E] “I’m not, I swear it! Your wishes are all that I care for-”
[???] “Silence! Do not feed me such lies.”
[A dark figure emerges from between the trees and slowly approaches Elias.]
[E] “M-Master! Please, I do not wish to lie to you. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
[M] “Quit your begging. It’s repulsive.”
[The Master stops in front of Elias, who remains on the ground. Elias cranes his neck up weakly to look at his Master.]
“I gave you a task. A simple one, at that. Your job was, and still is, to retrieve the human and bring them to the Abbey, and I have yet to see the human pass through my doors. I am right to believe that you are aware of how… unsatisfactory this is, yes?”
[E] “Of course! Yes, I know perfectly well how disappointing the fruits of my labour have been so far, but-”
[The Master lets out a short and amused laugh at Elias.]
[M] “Fruits… itane est?”
[E] “Quidem est. I believe I have made progress.”
[M] “What sort of progress, pray tell?”
[E] “Hitch and that little friend of his are vulnerable. They lack the strength to fight back-”
[M] “And yet here you lie with a bullet in your head.”
[Elias falls silent.]
“Rise, my child.”
[There’s a small pause as Elias staggers up. Once he stands up, the Master reaches towards and holds the side of his head, inspecting the bullet wound.]
“Hmm. I must say, the human that shot you did a remarkable job. We may have a hunter on our hands.”
[E] “I doubt it. A real hunter would’ve sawed my head off.”
[M] “Indeed. Though, he still aimed for your head regardless. ‘Tis a killer's instinct, a hunter’s reflex. He may cause us some trouble.”
[E] “Like I said, I doubt i-”
[Before he can finish his sentence, the Master slips his fingers into Elias' bullet wound. The wound makes squishing sounds as he feels for the bullet. Elias represses a grunt as he does so.]
[M] “Calm yourself and stay still. If I am to perform one kind act today, it shall be to remove this bullet. If your body heals over it, it will surely become a nuisance. I want my children to be healthy, not irritated.”
…
“I would also prefer it if my children were to cease their useless fixations on those who do not serve us anymore.”
[E] “But he’s insane! You cannot reject what is innate!”
[After he speaks, the Master pulls the bullet out of Elias' head. He twiddles it between his fingers and chuckles as Elias hisses under his breath from the pain.]
[M] “I understand your irritation, but I’m afraid the outcast has made his decision. Although, I must say, these nights I see a guilt-ridden gleam about his eyes. He’s struggling, but how long will he continue to do so? That is the question.”
[Elias gently holds his hand over the bullet wound, wincing slightly from the pain.]
[E] “It’s not long now, my Master. He’s a beaten mutt who knows that his end is creeping upon the horizon. If I could just wring his neck once again, I assure you, I would put an end to his miserable life once and for a-”
[Without warning, the Master strikes Elias’ cheek with his hand. He falls silent, as the Master criticises him.]
[M] “Enough. What a weak minded fool you are. Once again, you devote your focus to the outcast, and not the human. If you continue to act like this, I will not hesitate to withdraw you from your duties and throw you to the sunlight. Do I make myself clear?”
[A brief pause passes. The Master glares at Elias.]
“Elias-?”
[E] “Yes, Master.”
[M] “Good.”
[E] “Although… May I ask a question?”
[The Master thinks for a second, his eyes still glaring down at Elias.]
[M] “You may.”
[E] “...What purpose does the human serve? Surely they are not needed for your Great Plan?”
[The Master chuckles sinisterly.]
[M] “No, no, they are not. My plan is coming along quite nicely without them.”
[E] “It is?”
[M] “Indeed. The Demeter will make port at Whitby in only three nights, and from there we shall travel down to London and claim our right to national dominance. You and the rest of my children shall soon thrive off of this land, and take your pick of the cattle that run rife within these filthy towns and cities.”
…
“It will all be ours, as I had promised.”
[E] “Then… Pray tell, why do you need the human?”
[A brief pause passes as the Master thinks. He takes a step towards the trees and beckons Elias with his hand.]
[M] “Walk with me.”
[Elias obeys and walks alongside the Master into the woodland.]
“Do you remember, many moons go, when a new family had taken claim of the old house by the harbour?”
[E] “I-I apologise, I don’t believe I do.”
[M] “Well, tension began to rise between the two of us. For, you see, this family had made plans to renovate the Abbey, and, as you can obviously assume, this little goal of theirs was completely out of the question.”
…
“I posed as the Abbey’s priest, and took it upon myself to ensure that these dirty fisher folk stayed put at the harbour, where they belonged. But, alas, they challenged me. They stated that a distant relative of theirs passed the Abbey down to them through inheritance, but I hardly believed it. A poor fishing family, gifted an Abbey out of pure relation?”
[He chuckles.]
“‘Twas positively absurd. They continued their verbal onslaught for many days and nights, squabbling about their right of ownership, until, finally, I had lost my patience.”
[E] “What did you do?”
[The Master stops walking, and so does Elias. The Master turns to face him.]
[M] “I killed them. Sucked them dry until they were nothing but piles of pruned, rotting flesh. Usually, I would be pleased about this, if it was not for the one human who managed to escape my grasp.”
[Elias mumbles to himself, realising who exactly that human is.]
[E] “Hitch’s new friend…”
[M] “This is no fixation, my child. Nor an obsession. ‘Tis simply a desire to finish what I had started long ago, to complete my delectable collection. If the human remains alive, then the fate of the Abbey may fall out of our hands.”
[E] “Surely that isn’t possible?”
[M] “I have witnessed it all. I have watched peasants wear crowns, and kings slumbering in the muck. The human must be slain, and I shall do the honours. I want that human to be bound to my altar and given up to my greed-ridden fangs, I want to smell the blood coursing through their veins, and I want most of all for their influence over my children to be put to an end.”
[E] “Hitch failed to prove his loyalty to us, and yet you still address him as one of your children? Why?”
[M] “It is true that he has become disloyal, and, I admit, his repression of my gaze is rather admirable, but he is a child of the night, regardless. He shares the same primitive desires as you and I, only he exercises control over his urges. He may pretend to be human, yes, but he knows just as well as us that he is a monster, through and through.”
…
“But I digress. The only being who we are concerned with, at this very moment, is the human, and the human alone. Do you understand?”
[E] “Yes, Master.”
[M] “Good. Consider yourself lucky. I do not spare this much faith for someone of the likes of you. Allowing you to see me is a privilege in itself, my child, and it would be quite irksome if one were to… betray my trust.”
[E] “I would never. Not even in my wildest dreams would I consider doing such a thing. I am, and will forever be, your most ardent servant.”
[Elias takes a bow, and a brief pause follows. The Master smiles to himself.]
[M] “Your obedience is pleasing, but it will take more than words to satisfy me.”
…
“Bring the human to the Abbey doors, and only then shall they open for you. Do not return empty-handed. Understood?”
[E] “Yes, Master, of course-”
[Rising from his bow, Elias realises that the Master has vanished.]
“He’s gone.”
[A brief pause. He lets out an irritated sigh and begins walking again, mumbling under his breath as he does so.]
“Curse you, Hitch. Curse. You.”
[After a short while of walking, the distant voices of Abraham and Elissia can be heard approaching.]
[A] “I shot him up, I did. Aimed for his cranium and let my bullets ring! I tell ya, doctor, you just had to be there.”
[DE] “I did not, thank you. Your… graphic retelling is more than enough.”
[Elias stops walking, realising who the voice belongs to.]
[E] “The gunman…”
[He hides behind a tree as Abraham and Elissia continue their conversation. Their voices become gradually louder.]
[A] “Graphic? I thought you were a lady of science? You doctors always have yer elbows down deep in guts and blood.”
[DE] “Well-”
[She takes on a hushed tone, like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear her.]
“Well, yes, we do…”
[Her voice returns to normal.]
“But don’t go blabbering about those details out in the open. Have you read the papers? Don’t you know that there’s still a stigma against doctors?”
[A] “Aye, I do. But no one can hear us here.”
[DE] “... I suppose you're right. Although, if there’s one thing I know for certain, it is that something is always waiting around the corner. Take my students, for example. When acquiring their cadavers for our practicals, they are, more often than not, caught by a policeman prowling in the back alleys. Things may seem easy, but, in reality, you have already failed. That is why I am so cautious, vampire hunter. Unlike you.”
[They pass Elias, who continues to keep his eyes on Abraham.]
[A] “Hey, don’t go yapping on about that stuff. There’s a stigma, ya know.”
[Realising what she had done, Elissia gasps and covers her mouth. Abraham lets out a short laugh.]
“Need not worry, doc. It’s still early hours, which means we’re alone.”
[DE] “Are you certain?”
[A] “Absolutely-”
[Abraham stops walking as he notices something… strange. Elissia takes a couple more steps before stopping and turning to face him.]
[DE] “Hm? What’s the matter?”
[A] “Uhm… Nothing. Yeah, nothing.”
[DE] “Well, let's continue then, shall we? We have lots to discuss.”
[A] “... Right.”
[Elissia continues walking, meanwhile Abraham remains still, staring at a patch of dried blood on the grass. He mumbles to himself.]
[A] “That blood… I-I shot him, but… where’s the body?”
[Elissia calls out to him.]
[DE] “Are you following, Abraham?”
[He begins to walk away, still mumbling to himself.]
[A] “Must be body snatchers.”
[He calls out to Elissia.]
“Right behind ya, doc.”
[A small pause passes as their walking grows more and more distant, leaving Elias by himself.]
[E] “Watch your back, hunter. One never knows what is lurking around the corner.”
[He chuckles. The morning ambience fades to silence.]
END
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“Quidem est” = Roughly translates to “Indeed it is”.
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I've seen a lot of people asking about the differences between the Stratos and the Manta. I too was having trouble deciding between them / comparing them, so I got my hands on them and tried them out. Hopefully this helps others make a decision as well.
Note: This post is specifically going to be comparing the Manta 24 L and the Stratos 24 L only.
——
Notes
At the time of this post, the Manta is $200 and the Stratos is $180. The Manta comes with $50 worth of water bladder. Buying the same water bladder (the 2.5 L LT) separately for the Stratos makes the configuration $230.
Additionally, using Osprey's website to sort by Backsystems > "AirSpeed" does not show Manta as an option. I think this is a bug on their website. When the only filter condition is "BackSystems: AirSpeed", the Stratos (along with others) shows up but the Manta does not. As far as I know, the Manta has not been discontinued.
The Manta I looked at was made in February 2024, and the Stratos was made in December 2023. They are both the current / latest version of the backpack.
When you buy from Amazon, make sure you check when your backpack was made (black label on the inside of the biggest pocket). Amazon does not differentiate between the product years and has sold previous year's versions (like that had the button + elastic ladder system instead of the current plastic ladder system) recently. Watch out for this.
——
Expert Opinions
Before comparing their specifics, I want to include this: I talked with someone at REI extensively about the two bags. He said he'd been working at REI helping people find hiking backpacks for decades and that he always recommends buying the backpack that doesn't come with a water bladder and to buy both items separately instead. He told me that in order for a company to keep their water-bladder-included backpacks (Manta) similarly priced to their water-bladder-not-included backpacks (Stratos), that the companies used lower quality materials, cut corners, and generally made the water-bladder-included backpacks lower quality. Because of this, his personal strong option was to go for the Stratos over the Manta.
In contrast, after studying these backpacks carefully and thoroughly, I came to the exact opposite conclusion: I chose the Manta over the Stratos.
——
The Specifics
Here is every difference I found between the two. Please let me know if I missed anything. To keep things more concise, I will use "S" to denote Stratos 24 L and "M" to denote Manta 24 L. I am not talking about sizes!
Load Lifters

• S had thicker straps
• M has thinner straps

Frame

• I think their frames are identical

H20 Port

• M H2O passthrough feels slightly more constricted than S

Shoulder Straps

• Maybe it was just the two backpacks I recieved, but the S has way softer shoulder straps than the M
  • It's possible this will change or even out with wear, but initial reaction was they are quite different
  • This was the only case where I found the S better than the M, but significantly so
  • I reached out to Osprey to ask if they use different materials in the straps
• S under-strap material wraps onto the front equally on both sides
• M under-strap material only wraps onto the front from the inside, making the outside of the strap a little less comfortable and scratchier
• S had chest strap with clip + whistle
• M has chest strap with magnetic latch (that water bladder mouthpiece can attach to)

Waist Belt

• S wait belt pockets bigger than M
  • S easily fits iPhone 14 Pro Max with case
  • M fits but tighter and slower to get in and out
• This may be the specific bags I tried but S hip belt feels *slightly* more padded than M

Rain Cover Pocket

• M rain cover pocket is wider than S
  • M stocks out less and impacts internal space less because rain cover can be folded thinner and flatter
  • S sticks out slightly more because it's folded into a space about 1/2 the size of the M

Total Pockets

• S has 5 (from inside to outside):
  1. Medium mesh filled pocket
  2. Has key-ring
     • 2. Large primary compartment
  3. There's an elastic separator for the water bladder
     • 3. Small sunglasses pocket
     • 4. Medium vertical pocket
     • 5. Small rain cover pocket
• M has 5 (from inside to outside)
  1. Large dedicated water bladder compartment
     • 2. Large primary compartment
     • 3. Small sunglasses pocket
     • 4. Medium side access vertical zip pocket
  2. Has key-ring
     • 5. Small rain cover pocket
     • 6-ish. Elastic stuff compartment

Compression Straps (upper)

• The upper compression straps clip in opposite directions on each bag
• M tightening part faces away from you if you're wearing the bag
• S tightening part faces towards you if you're wearing the bag
• M pulls from closer to the center of the bag than S, M seems to compress better than S
• M buckles stick out sideways off the top of the bag and kinda look dumb when unclipped

Compression Straps (lower)

• The M lower compression straps go across the bottom of the water bottle pocket
• The S lower compression straps go across the middle of the water bottle pocket
  • This is better for tripod carry

Water Bottle Pockets

• M has top and side entry into water bottle pocket
• S has only top entry into water bottle pocket

BackSystem / AirSpeed

• The holes in the S mesh are larger
• The holes in the M mesh are smaller, which kinda surprised me because I'd imagine it is *slightly* worse for ventilation
• S has almost-white netting, M has same-color (at least it's black on the black M) and looks like it'll handle dirt and sweat better

Conclusion
Over all, the Manta is the clear winner to me over the Stratos. Better pockets, more organization, more versatile, and faster access to gear.
The Stratos, despite not being a dedicated water bladder backpack weirdly seems slightly better in terms of how the water bladder hangs and how the tube goes through the bag. I had a hard time getting the tube out of the way of the bladder on the Manta, while the tube lays flush on the Stratos and doesn't twist. The Stratos bladder hangs lower than the Manta which might be why, but that probably makes the load distribution on the Manta better.
The Stratos trampoline mesh felt more breathable with the larger holes, though this may be just the style of the specific one I tried. I am awaiting Osprey's reply on the topic.
The Stratos shoulder straps felt softer, but also were undeniably more comfortable with the towards-you facing material wrapping around both edges of the strap. This may be minor or end up not mattering after use, this is just my perspective. I am also waiting Osprey's reply to this topic.
I think if you're planning on not using a water bladder / don't need to access your stuff often and you prioritize maximum comfort, Stratos might have a slight edge.
Manta feels more premium, more thoughtfully designed, and is absolutely more user-friendly. The difference in quality of organization is significant. I also like that the Manta's colors seem more uniform.

Was driving back from the corner store yesterday morning when the collision avoidance activated automatic braking. The problem is the road was completely clear of cars, pedestrians or any obstacles. Dash did have the pedestrian symbol illuminated about 5-10 seconds prior to the HUD and audio warning in conjunction with the auto braking engaging.
I understand there are bugs with the system and a recall. I completed said recall about a month ago with the dealership. I called the dealer and they want me to bring it in for diagnostic. Unclear if there is a fix to guarantee preventing a similar event happening.
I plan on leaving the auto brake feature of for the foreseeable future. My fear is something happening on the highway with someone tailgating..
Curious if anyone has experienced anything similar?

I've seen a lot of people asking about the differences between the Stratos and the Manta. I too was having trouble deciding between them / comparing them, so I got my hands on them and tried them out. Hopefully this helps others make a decision as well.
Note: This post is specifically going to be comparing the Manta 24 L and the Stratos 24 L only.
——
Notes
At the time of this post, the Manta is $200 and the Stratos is $180. The Manta comes with $50 worth of water bladder. Buying the same water bladder (the 2.5 L LT) separately for the Stratos makes the configuration $230.
Additionally, using Osprey's website to sort by Backsystems > "AirSpeed" does not show Manta as an option. I think this is a bug on their website. When the only filter condition is "BackSystems: AirSpeed", the Stratos (along with others) shows up but the Manta does not. As far as I know, the Manta has not been discontinued.
The Manta I looked at was made in February 2024, and the Stratos was made in December 2023. They are both the current / latest version of the backpack.
When you buy from Amazon, make sure you check when your backpack was made (black label on the inside of the biggest pocket). Amazon does not differentiate between the product years and has sold previous year's versions (like that had the button + elastic ladder system instead of the current plastic ladder system) recently. Watch out for this.
——
Expert Opinions
Before comparing their specifics, I want to include this: I talked with someone at REI extensively about the two bags. He said he'd been working at REI helping people find hiking backpacks for decades and that he always recommends buying the backpack that doesn't come with a water bladder and to buy both items separately instead. He told me that in order for a company to keep their water-bladder-included backpacks (Manta) similarly priced to their water-bladder-not-included backpacks (Stratos), that the companies used lower quality materials, cut corners, and generally made the water-bladder-included backpacks lower quality. Because of this, his personal strong option was to go for the Stratos over the Manta.
In contrast, after studying these backpacks carefully and thoroughly, I came to the exact opposite conclusion: I chose the Manta over the Stratos.
——
The Specifics
Here is every difference I found between the two. Please let me know if I missed anything. To keep things more concise, I will use "S" to denote Stratos 24 L and "M" to denote Manta 24 L. I am not talking about sizes!
Load Lifters

• S had thicker straps
• M has thinner straps

Frame

• I think their frames are identical

H20 Port

• M H2O passthrough feels slightly more constricted than S

Shoulder Straps

• Maybe it was just the two backpacks I recieved, but the S has way softer shoulder straps than the M
  • It's possible this will change or even out with wear, but initial reaction was they are quite different
  • This was the only case where I found the S better than the M, but significantly so
  • I reached out to Osprey to ask if they use different materials in the straps
• S under-strap material wraps onto the front equally on both sides
• M under-strap material only wraps onto the front from the inside, making the outside of the strap a little less comfortable and scratchier
• S had chest strap with clip + whistle
• M has chest strap with magnetic latch (that water bladder mouthpiece can attach to)

Waist Belt

• S wait belt pockets bigger than M
  • S easily fits iPhone 14 Pro Max with case
  • M fits but tighter and slower to get in and out
• This may be the specific bags I tried but S hip belt feels *slightly* more padded than M

Rain Cover Pocket

• M rain cover pocket is wider than S
  • M stocks out less and impacts internal space less because rain cover can be folded thinner and flatter
  • S sticks out slightly more because it's folded into a space about 1/2 the size of the M

Total Pockets

• S has 5 (from inside to outside):
  1. Medium mesh filled pocket
  2. Has key-ring
     • 2. Large primary compartment
  3. There's an elastic separator for the water bladder
     • 3. Small sunglasses pocket
     • 4. Medium vertical pocket
     • 5. Small rain cover pocket
• M has 5 (from inside to outside)
  1. Large dedicated water bladder compartment
     • 2. Large primary compartment
     • 3. Small sunglasses pocket
     • 4. Medium side access vertical zip pocket
  2. Has key-ring
     • 5. Small rain cover pocket
     • 6-ish. Elastic stuff compartment

Compression Straps (upper)

• The upper compression straps clip in opposite directions on each bag
• M tightening part faces away from you if you're wearing the bag
• S tightening part faces towards you if you're wearing the bag
• M pulls from closer to the center of the bag than S, M seems to compress better than S
• M buckles stick out sideways off the top of the bag and kinda look dumb when unclipped

Compression Straps (lower)

• The M lower compression straps go across the bottom of the water bottle pocket
• The S lower compression straps go across the middle of the water bottle pocket
  • This is better for tripod carry

Water Bottle Pockets

• M has top and side entry into water bottle pocket
• S has only top entry into water bottle pocket

BackSystem / AirSpeed

• The holes in the S mesh are larger
• The holes in the M mesh are smaller, which kinda surprised me because I'd imagine it is *slightly* worse for ventilation
• S has almost-white netting, M has same-color (at least it's black on the black M) and looks like it'll handle dirt and sweat better

Conclusion
Over all, the Manta is the clear winner to me over the Stratos. Better pockets, more organization, more versatile, and faster access to gear.
The Stratos, despite not being a dedicated water bladder backpack weirdly seems slightly better in terms of how the water bladder hangs and how the tube goes through the bag. I had a hard time getting the tube out of the way of the bladder on the Manta, while the tube lays flush on the Stratos and doesn't twist. The Stratos bladder hangs lower than the Manta which might be why, but that probably makes the load distribution on the Manta better.
The Stratos trampoline mesh felt more breathable with the larger holes, though this may be just the style of the specific one I tried. I am awaiting Osprey's reply on the topic.
The Stratos shoulder straps felt softer, but also were undeniably more comfortable with the towards-you facing material wrapping around both edges of the strap. This may be minor or end up not mattering after use, this is just my perspective. I am also waiting Osprey's reply to this topic.
I think if you're planning on not using a water bladder / don't need to access your stuff often and you prioritize maximum comfort, Stratos might have a slight edge.
Manta feels more premium, more thoughtfully designed, and is absolutely more user-friendly. The difference in quality of organization is significant. I also like that the Manta's colors seem more uniform.

TL;DR - I cannot summarize this post because I feel that it is necessary to read it entirely in order to fully understand the point I am trying to make. If you do not like this post that is ok, but if you decide to downvote it, please read it entirely before doing so. Thank you.

Call to Action

SuperStonk, since the beginning we have always strived to do everything in our power to protect our investments. We migrated subreddits multiple times, we established backup communication outlets, we moved brokerages and called them to demand our shares not be lent out, we backed up our DD, and eventually we learned about direct registration and DRSed our shares. If we take a step back in time to when we originally started to DRS our shares, there were two main reasons for it: the obvious one was to attempt at locking the float, but the other reason was to protect our shareholders rights. Now that we are in the end game, why should we stop now? I know there are a wide range of opinions on GameStop's recent corporate actions. The events that have occurred over the past few weeks have left thousands of shareholders with concerns. You may not agree with them, but the reality is that they are there, and they are real shareholders. I've read through their comments all over this subreddit, as well as everywhere else. My goal with this post is to remind everyone that we as shareholders have the right to let our voices be heard. We own billions in this company, and our voices are more powerful than some of you may think. This is the exact reason I created this petition, to express my concerns to GameStop. I also emailed GameStop investor relations.

Recent Events

A few weeks ago, Roaring Kitty returned and lit the internet on fire with a barrage of memes on X. Perhaps he knew something was coming. Around the same time, the volume and volatility of the stock came to life like it hasn't in years. It is clear as day that this increase in volume and volatility has nothing to do with Roaring Kitty, but rather there's something under hood occurring that is driving the price action. Whether its obligations from leaps, swaps, ETF rebalancing, or any of the other many possibilities, its clear something big is happening. During the week of May 13-17, the price of GME actually touched $80. By May 17, the price had fallen and was consolidating in the $30 range, when GameStop announced a 45 million share "at-the-market offering" and "first quarter preliminary results". On May 24, GameStop announced the completion of the share offering, having raised $933.4 million. The "acquisitions and investments" language in the filing led many to speculate that maybe GameStop needed to quickly raise capital for a merger deal that was already underway, perhaps to be announced the week of earnings and the annual shareholder's meeting.
After a brief silence, Roaring Kitty posted his absolutely insane position to SuperStonk for the world to see. At this point, the behavior of MSM and various actors on social media made it clear that whoever is on the other side of that bet is very, very scared. This past week, we saw the volume and volatility of the stock begin to churn again. By Thursday, June 6 we were seeing violent upward price action in the stock. After this price action had already begun, Roaring Kitty scheduled a livestream on his YouTube channel for the next day, July 7 at noon est. Again it was clear that something under the hood was driving the stock, as it began before Roaring Kitty posted his livestream. During after hours Thursday night, the price hit over $60. On Friday morning, GameStop announced another 75 million share "at-the-market offering" and disclosed their first quarter results, even though those had previously been scheduled to release on June 11.

The Downsides

Although GameStop adding a few billion dollars to the balance sheet is extremely bullish for the long-term outlook of the company, that doesn't mean it didn't come without downsides. Once the current share offering is completed, the result will be a combined 120 million new shares sold into the market, representing an almost 40% dilution. This obviously adds liquidity to the stock, which is upsetting to many because we spent 3 years DRSing at least 75 million shares, which had resulted in GME becoming very illiquid. In particular, I feel the need to call into question the timing of the second share offering, as that is what bothers me the most. Going into Friday, it really looked like that run had legs, and there was a ton of hype in anticipation of Roaring Kitty's stream. GameStop chose to announce the share offering before pre-market trading on Friday morning, and by market open the price of the stock had fallen dramatically. This resulted in a huge loss of call premium in GME, on a Friday, and the same day as Roaring Kitty's livestream no less. Call holders aside, I have to question this timing even from the perspective of the company's best interest. Could GameStop have raised more capital, with fewer shares, if they had waited until a later time/day? We can tell by the volume on Friday that something was still churning under the hood. Let's imagine the potential if they let the stock run, let Roaring Kitty do his thing, and let all of those calls expire in the money to drive the price action into next week. For me, and many of the comments I've seen, this timing is very troubling.

GameStop vs Roaring Kitty?

The interpretations of Roaring Kitty's ATM meme, his memes the morning of the first 45 million share offering (May 17), and his "Happy Birthday from GameStop" comment in his livestream yesterday are still being debated. To me, his memes the morning of May 17 seemed negative. He posted a crying meme face under the Kitty mask, and the first meme of that morning was the only one off-schedule that entire week. His birthday comment yesterday also seemed like blatant sarcasm to me "wrap it up in a gift or some shit". Thus, I personally think these offerings surprised him, but that is just my opinion, I could be completely wrong.
Is all of this part of some master plan that is yet to be revealed? Is each party simply acting in their own best interest? Or is there something more going on here? Unfortunately, I don't have those answers, but I feel like the question is important at this stage in the game, so I wanted to at least mention it.

MOASS

There's been some controversy lately between those that are more interested in the long-term potential of GameStop vs those who are here for MOASS. For me, it has always been about MOASS, and after MOASS of course a lot of those gains will go right back into GME. If you're in the MOASS camp with me, don't fret, I still think MOASS is very much on the table, it could even be right around the corner. There are a lot of possibilities that could play out over the next few weeks. We know something big is still churning in the stock, Roaring Kitty's 120,000 calls don't expire until June 21, and the shorts are terrified. It is very possible that the stock will start running hard as soon as GameStop lets us know that the share offering is complete.
Although it may seem that way, my main goal with this petition and post is not to criticize GameStop's recent corporate actions, as that won't really result in anything productive anyways. Instead, I want to focus on voicing my concerns about the possibility of similar actions moving forward, particularly the next few weeks. For this reason, I left all of my opinions from this post out of the petition. I tried to keep it to one simple statement that I hope most can agree with. We do not have a once in a lifetime in front of us, we have a once in history opportunity in front of us. Roaring Kitty is back, he holds 120,000, and the stock is alive. It is time for MOASS. It is time to let our voices be heard. Let the stock run.

The Petition

I created a petition through Change.org, here is the url: https://www.change.org/p/petition-to-the-gamestop-board-of-directors
Here are the contents of the petition:
Petition to the GameStop Board of Directors
I am a shareholder of GME stock, and I am petitioning the GameStop Board of Directors to not release another "at-the-market offering" or unscheduled negative press release at a pivotal moment of the next significant movement of the stock.
I want to be clear, I have no intention of seeking or taking any legal action with this petition. I will not be submitting it any court. It is simply a public, online petition that I created to let my voice be heard. I know that many shareholders have chosen to remain anonymous (myself included). If you'd like to sign it, you can sign it with your name or anonymously (I created and signed this petition with the name "Anonymous Shareholder").
If you want to sign it, but you have additional concerns, feel free to express that via the "Reasons for signing" comment section.
If you don't want to sign it, but you have your own concerns, know that you can always email GameStop's investor relations. I did.
If you do not agree with this petition and you don't want to sign it, that is perfectly ok. Please be respectful to those with concerns.

To the Longgggg crowd

I know that some of you have an investment thesis that is more interested in GameStop's long-term potential. You think GameStop will become GameShire Stopaway. I hope you're right, and you have every right to your own investment strategy. However, you have to understand that years ago many got involved in this play for MOASS. We should've been paid in January of 2021, but here we are. We still want see the shorts' demise, and we still want to be paid.

To the Master Plan / Merger Inbound crowd

I know many of you think everything is part of a master plan that has yet to be revealed. Some of you think GameStop is going to announce some kind of merger or acquisition very soon. Well, I hope you guys are right, as I would profit greatly if you are! My argument to you is that if there is already a deal that is done and yet to be announced, or a master plan already in motion, then this petition/post is not going to change that in any way. The goal of this is to simply voice concerns just in case we have fallen off the tracks. I know you're zen, but please don't just downvote this post to oblivion and scream FUD. There are other shareholders out there with concerns who may want to see it.
"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

My preemptive answers to the FUD accusations

I know the accusations are coming, but here's the deal, I've been here the whole time. I'm not telling anyone to sell. I'm not price anchoring. I'm not just upset because I lost money on calls. Full disclosure, I sold my call position at market open on Friday for a small profit (although I feel for any of you who didn't make it out ahead, I've been there and I feel your pain). I've held DRS shares for a long time, and I'm not leaving. Roaring Kitty's livestream was amazing. Roaring Kitty is not a market manipulator, he is the most legendary investor of all time and he simply posted his position online for the world to see. MOASS is inevitable. Ape no fight Ape. Wen Lambo.
This is not financial advice. Don't take advice or invest your money based on the speculation and ramblings of a dumb ape on the internet.