Getting organized to sit down and write a major term paper is such a daunting task for us folks with ADHD. As a student I would have vague ideas of what I want to write, but lacked the executive function to get to the job done. I would stare at a blank Word doc, type a sentence, delete a sentence, repeat. Unexpected for a writing major, I know. Are you looking for a way to break out of this cycle?
May I present: the Index Card Method.
As a high school student in the 1990s, I was forced to use this method to write a ten page senior thesis. Nearly all senior level English classes in my school used this method. Prior to that year, I had seen students carrying around fat stacks of index cards, protecting them like their ability to graduate depended on them. It did. I begrudgingly followed this methodical approach even though it wasn't "the way I write." Ironically, I found it so helpful I continued using this method throughout college, and admittedly even in grad school 25 years later.
What is it?
It's a low-tech system of organizing your sources, topics, details, citations, and anything else that goes into your paper.
Why low-tech?
It is a hands-on process loaded with sensory actions. Physically handling and arranging the index cards helps me focus on a task. Filling out an index card and setting it aside and then picking up another FEELS productive. Seeing a growing pile of index cards as you move through the project LOOKS like productivity. These sensory activities boost my momentum.
The best part of this method is how it breaks down a mountain of a project into smaller tasks without requiring me to create a big plan before I can start working on it. The size of each task is literally the size of an index card. Plus, it is an opportunity to use those cool pens you bought the last time you said you would start journaling.
The Index Card Method cannot be done the night before a paper is due, at least I wouldn't try it anyway. If you don't like writing outlines or drafts, give this method a try - but if you're cramming, do give yourself a week to get it done.
How does it work?

Step 1: Cards

Get some 3x5 index cards. For a 10-page, double spaced paper, you will need around 300 cards.
Do not get 150 4x6 cards. They must be 3x5.
For this post, I will assume anyone following this method is using lined index cards. It does not matter if the cards are lined, but know that when I say "On the top line write..." I mean where the actual top line of the card would be. This also means you will be writing across width of the cards in landscape orientation, meaning a full line of text on a 3x5 card runs 5 inches, not 3 inches.
There are two simple, but vital rules to remember when creating cards.

1. Only write on one side of the card. Leave the other side blank. You will need to see all of a card's contents at a quick glance.
   
2. If you make a mistake on a card, immediately tear it in half so it doesn't get mixed up with the ones you want to keep.
   

Step 2: Thesis card

You will only have a thesis card if you are writing a thesis (argument) paper.
In the center of the top line of your thesis card, write "Thesis Statement."
Now write your thesis statement below that.

Step 3: Topic cards

In the center of the top line write "Topic." Below that, write the name of a topic related to your thesis statement.
Topics should be broad, written as one or two words. Create as many topic cards as you think you will need. You can always create more later, so don't get stuck on this part.
Example: topics related to a thesis on the healthcare industry may include: Insurance, Costs, Medicare, Medicaid, Prevention, Prescription Drugs, Hospitals, etc.

Step 4: First Layout

Spread out your topic cards on a table. Select the broadest topics and line them up in a row in the order in which you would like them in your paper. Now arrange the narrower topics in columns below the broad topics in the order that makes sense to you. Using the example of the healthcare industry in the previous step, "Costs" may be a broad topic with "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs" listed beneath it.
Split a topic if you need to. "Costs" could also be split into "Consumer Costs" and "National Costs", then "Insurance" and "Prescription Drugs".
Don't expect to have a lot of topic cards at this point. You may only have one or two subtopics for each broad topic. This is fine. You can always add more as you go along.
Take a picture of your topic cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just made an outline!
Now type it out. Title it "Preliminary Outline."

Step 5: Sources

Go find sources you would like to use for your paper. When you find a source you would like to use, create a bibliography card.

Step 6: Bibliography cards

In the center of the top line write "Bibliography".
In the upper left hand corner of the card on the top line, write the number "1", as it is your first Bibliography card. This is your source ID.
Now write the complete and proper reference of your source, formatted according to your citation style. Include doi links, if applicable. Where italic font is used in a citation, underline it on your card.
Open a new document file. Title it "References", "Works Cited", etc., depending on your citation style. Type out your bibliography cards in the order appropriate to your citation style. Most likely they will be alphabetical by author. As you find more sources and write out bibliography cards, add them to this document.
About citation styles:
A citation style is a way to reference your sources, specifically how you list them out and how you identify where you found a fact or quote.
If you are in highschool, your teacher will tell you how to write write and format sources and citations. If they don't, ask.
If you are an undergrad, most professors don't care which style you choose, but they want it consistent. If this is the case, I recommend using APA or MLA because they use simple, in-line citations.
If you are a graduate student, use the appropriate style for your field. If your reference style uses foot notes or end notes, please be aware you may need to create citation IDs later to help you stay organized.

Step 7: Read and Highlight

As you read through your sources, highlight anything that stands out to you that you may want to use in your paper.
This is where I would normally say it does not matter if your sources are printed or digital, but for many of us it does matter. Stepping away from technology is one the reasons I find this method so effective. I encourage you to print articles or photocopy sources when possible.
Your school likely has access to full-text articles online that can be downloaded as PDFs and printed later.
If your source is text from a website, right click on in the body of the text and select Print. When the print window pops up, select PDF (or Adobe PDF) as your printer. In the next pop up, select where you would like to store your file. Your source is now saved as a PDF. By the way, printing to a PDF is the easiest way to save a file while maintaining its formatting. Try it from any program. Now when you print it to paper, it will look like the PDF.

STEP 8: Detail cards

In the center of the top line write the topic related to the highlighted text. If you do not have a related topic card, make one.
In the upper left corner on the top line, write the source ID that matches the one on its respective bibliography card.
In the upper right corner on the top line of each card write the page number(s) from your source as "p 87" or "pp 87-88". If your source does not have page numbers, write your source's equivalent as it applies (act/scene numbers, time stamp, etc.). Look up a style reference guide for requirements.
Now in your own words, write about an area you highlighted. If you want to directly quote the article, make sure you use quotation marks. Otherwise, simply paraphrase it. Use complete sentences.
If you are copying a long quote and run out of room on a card, write the topic, source ID, and page number on another new card and continue writing your quote. In the bottom right corners write "1 of 2" and "2 of 2" respectively.
Create bibliography and detail cards for all your sources. Find more sources as needed. For a 10-page double spaced paper, expect to have around 150-200 detail cards.

Step 9: Second Layout

Lay out all of your topic cards in the same order as your preliminary outline, only this time line them all up in one row.
By this time you may also want to combine or eliminate topics because your project took a different direction from when you first wrote them. This is fine.
When you think you have enough detail cards, sort them into piles by topic. Now arrange your detail cards in columns under their topics in a way that makes sense to you.
Take a picture of all your cards in this arrangement.
Congratulations, you just layed out your final outline!

Step 10: Type Your Outline

Save a copy of your preliminary outline and title it "Final Outline." Fill in the text from the detail cards. Each detail card should be a separate bullet point on your outline. After typing out a detail card, add the citation at the end. You already know the source because you wrote the source number in the upper left hand corner of each card.
You should not have anything in your final outline that is not written down on an index card.

Step 11: First Draft

Save a copy of your final outline and name it "First Draft." Now arrange your bullet points into paragraphs. This is your draft.
Now print it . Proofread it. Ask a friend to proofread it. Mark it up and make any necessary changes on paper. Don't change any quoted text because quotes are ...well ...quotes.

Step 12: Final Copy

Save a copy of your First draft and name the file "Final Copy." Type the edits you handwrote on paper. I realize with today's technology a lot of proofreading and peer editing is done electronically. This is fine. If you're using Google Docs, be sure to use Suggestion Mode. If using Word, turn on Track Changes.
Your paper is done.
High school students, if your teacher doesn't think you've made enough changes between your draft and your final copy, hand over your stack of index cards, both outlines, and your highlighted sources. They will know you didn't use ChatGPT or copy someone else's work because you can't fake what you've just handed to them.
Edit: See my other post for a technique that harnesses your ADHD to help you organize a project or to present new ideas to a group.
https://www.reddit.com/TwoXADHD/s/Y4pUfQR0R3

The folded newspaper was not much rain cover from the onset showers that were undoubtedly about to come from the looming storm. Nonetheless, it was all Miranda had to protect her hair and makeup as she ran inside the opulent state office building. She was concerned that her hair would get wet; and with a fresh perm, that could disastrous.
She was so used to only speaking to patients in the confines of her home office; not worrying what anyone thought of her with no makeup on and hair tied up in a bun, that being concerned about things like foundation and extensions seemed like a novel annoyance.
Miranda had made the trip to Hillsborough to attend her cousin Andrea’s wedding the following day. And as excited as everyone was, no one in the party had thought to go and pick up the paperwork for the marriage license, so the job fell to her.
As she walked through security, she felt as though she were a leaf in a whirlwind of activity that she intuitively knew was unusual for the space. The place was packed, and she had to avoid bumping into people who were otherwise unaware of anyone else’s existence.
As she placed her keys and other items in the small container on the conveyor belt beside the metal detector, she leaned in and asked a friendly but hapless-looking guard about the day’s ongoing procedures.
“Oh…it’s election day, ma’am.”
“Great,” she thought to herself.
It was like being in a Bruegel painting, an array of scenes around her all happening simultaneously happening. A man shaking hands and giving speeches, a woman filming herself giving a campaign message, another man arguing with security over a pair of keys that he wasn’t supposed to have.
Miranda hoped that she would be able to beat the storm and be back on her way to her Aunt Jess’ house before the rain started to seriously fall, but this was the type of task that had the potential to be easy and seamless or dreadfully bureaucratic.
As she stood in line, she heard a commotion from inside the clerk’s office.
“It’s the law!” a woman yelled. “I don’t care what your personal beliefs are. You work for the state, and that means you work for the citizens of this city; that includes me!”
The woman emerged from the office and was gorgeous. She wore a fur coat that swayed as she walked and had piercing eyes that were hidden by a large pair of sunglasses just as quickly as she had emerged.
“I’m sure she’ll play the race card,” another person in line scoffed, referring to the woman’s complexion, though she neither appeared to be white nor black.
“I heard she’s been spending a lot of time with a particular candidate,” another patron chided.
Miranda reached in her pocket and pulled out a pair of earbuds. “None of my business…”
Just as she reached the front of the line, the lights went out as thunder crashed and lightning flashed outside the building.
A deep sense of dread filled Miranda’s stomach as she heard the loud sound of hail hitting the state office’s roof and windows.
“My goodness,” she sighed. “I’d better call Lucy and let her know I’ll be longer than expected,” she thought to herself.
Just as she took out her phone to search for her aunt’s contact, the red and blue lights and the sound of an alarm went off. Confused, she searched the faces of the other patrons only to hear the voice of a man in a black shirt and pants with a badge directing everyone to the center atrium and away from all the windows.
A woman in a pair of flowing purple pants, a white blouse, and short blonde hair raised her voice and attempted to reassure everyone that everything would be okay.
“Everyone…Everyone,” she shouted. “We will have this mishap sorted in just a few minutes. Just remain calm, and we’ll be able to finish out the counting of the ballots. We appreciate yo…”
She was interrupted by an overweight man in a finely cut suit. “My staff is attempting to get to the bottom of things, and we’ll get the electricity back on as soon as possible. Just bear with us,” he boomed as he stood on the steps leading to the platform in the center of the room.
Miranda noticed the sly smile that crossed his face as he turned and looked at the blonde woman in the blouse. One-upping her had brought him a certain amount of pleasure, and the tension between them was palpable as she shot him a death glance that bounced off of him like a lone BB pellet.
Pleased with himself and chest out, he returned to a group of cohorts. A very serious man in a gray suit approached him while attempting to clean his shirt. His head was shaved and his beard trimmed; he hung a pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket. He was the type of man whose eyes were seen far less than they were exposed.
“Mr. Henly,” one of his minions said out loud, getting the blowhard’s attention and gesturing to the man in the gray suit. The large man quickly made room. The man in the gray suit walked up to Harold, leaned in, and whispered something into his ear that made his face grow hard. Harold reached inside his suit pocket and pulled out a thick manila envelope, surreptitiously handing it to the man in the gray suit and patting him on the shoulder before the man disappeared once again into the crowd.
Just then, the lights came back on as if there was a renewed sense of life in a world where time seemed to have stopped. Color returned to the building and sounds began to fill the atrium.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to need your cooperation,” a handsome African American man said with a certain amount of trepidation in his voice. He took the main stage in the atrium and gestured to everyone to garner their attention. “It would appear as though we have encountered a clerical error,” he said.
A confused murmur rippled throughout the crowd.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Harold bellowed loud enough for everyone to hear, once again making himself the center of attention.
The man sighed. “It would appear…” he paused, “as if several boxes of ballots have gone missing.”
A unilateral chatter began, and concerned looks were exchanged between everyone in the atrium.
“What kind of a clown show are you running here, Pennyworth?” Harold boomed.
“I’m not running this election, Harold, I’m a…”
“No, you’re not capable of running anything. I’ll take over and get this figured out,” he interrupted.
“You’ll do no such thing. You, like me, are a candidate and are prohibited from participating in the election process,” he continued. “But someone had to make the announcement as you were too busy here shaking hands to know what was going on in the building.
“Everyone, unfortunately, until we get this sorted out…no one can leave the building until the ballots are found.”
A unilateral disgruntled sigh filled the large auditorium.
Disappointed, Miranda thought quickly and approached the security office.
Poking her head through the door, she looked for anyone that she thought could help.
“Hello…um…excuse me,” she called out.
Inside was a guard with an untucked shirt and a half-eaten eclair speaking with an older janitor leaning on his broom over the security desk.
“You didn’t hear it from me,” the janitor said with a playful nod, “but I think she and her assistant have something going on, and her husband is a bit salty about the entire thing.” the old man said. “I mean, your wife leaving you is one thing, but her leaving you for your assistant, and a woman for that matter,” he pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’m just ol’ school, cause that wouldn’ta happened to me!”
“Mr. Jones, quit gossiping,” the guard laughed. “Now what was it that you needed to tell me?”
“I…I done gone and forgot,” he said, frustrated. “It was about her assistant,” he scratched his face trying to remember. “I thought I saw…I thought I saw her…” the older man looked down trying to remember.
The security guard turned his attention toward Miranda.
“Hi…uh…how can I help you?”
“Hi,” Miranda said with a forced smile. “My name is Miranda Fletcher. I work with law…”
“Hey,” the guard said with a long drawn out smile. “Do you know Andrea?”
“Yes…yes!” she stammered. “She’s my cousin!” she said excitedly with renewed hope that she could parlay her family name to get out of this.
“Are you here for the wedding?” he asked cheerfully.
“Bridesmaid, guilty as charged,” she said with a grin and a curtsy.
“How do you know Andrea?” she said with widened eyes and genuine curiosity.
“Oh…, Andrea dumped me six months ago to start dating Alex Tate,” he said with a blank stare and goofy smile.
“Oh,” Miranda stared. She was like a deer in headlights, unable to formulate her next words. In an awkward silence, the two continued to stare and nod at one another for what felt like minutes instead of seconds.
The janitor, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, decided to see himself out.
In a sudden break in silence, the guard continued, “But that’s all in the past now,” he said with a warm laugh that left Miranda still a bit stilted, but more at ease.
“We just weren’t right for one another, and I don’t hold any grudges. I’m Billy, by the way.”
“Miranda Fletcher,” she replied.
“How’s your aunt?” he asked.
“Ah…you know, surrounded by her books,” she said, trying to make light of the situation.
“I was just going to say, I work with law enforcement. I can promise you that I had nothing to do with these ballots being taken.” She assured him. “
You can track me on the security cameras to confirm my whereabouts. Is it possible for me just to go about my business and leave?”
“Yeah…about that…our security cameras have been out almost all day. Worst day this could have happened,” he said. “We’ve got technicians coming to take a look at our system tomorrow, but otherwise, we’ve got no way to verify where anybody was.”
Miranda sighed.
“You said you worked with law enforcement?” the guard repeated.
“Yes,” Miranda replied exasperated as she tried sending a text to her cousin letting her know what was going on. “I’m a forensic psychologist. I do profiles of criminals ranging from fraudulent hedge fund managers to serial killers.”
“Wow…well, that’s more than we could have asked for,” he said. “Look, between you and me, those ballot boxes didn’t go ‘missing,’” he said with air quotes. “Somebody is trying to rig this election.”
Miranda’s face dropped as she stared Billy in the eye.
“And nobody’s leaving this building until those ballots are found,” he said with a despondent gaze.
“Who are the candidates?” Miranda asked with a sigh. “Who’s the loudmouth?”
“Oh…that’s Harold Henly,” Billy said. “He can be a bit much, but I like some of his policies,” he said with a bit of enthusiasm. “But he can rub some people the wrong way.”
“And that man in the gray suit?” she asked.
“Yeah…that’s his associate,” Billy said. “Earlier in the day, we had to confiscate some city hall keys he had in his possession.”
“And the blonde with the short hair?” Miranda asked.
“Oh…that’s Andrea Milton,” he explained with a comically southern accent and scrunched up face as if smelling something distasteful. “She’s a Democrat.”
Miranda nodded graciously.
Billy whispered, “She’s the one ol’ Mr. Jones was gossiping about just before you walked in.”
“Oh…and there’s Carlton Pennyworth. He’s a nice enough guy; smart as a whip, but I don’t know if Hillsborough is ready for him just yet,” Billy added. “There’s some real history with his family in this town though.”
Miranda feigned interest.
“Legend has it that Harold’s great great grandfather changed their last name in the city’s ledger to Penny, telling him that’s exactly how much he was worth. And it just stuck”
Miranda winced at the story feeling a sense of disgust at Henly’s ancestors actions; putting a whole new context to their interaction in the atrium.
“I’m going to take a walk around and see what I can find out,” Miranda told Billy.
“Sure, if you have any more questions that I or one of the other guards can answer, just let us know.”
Miranda took a walk around to talk to some of the characters and explore the building.
Click here to explore the building and speak to the characters

I’ve (25F) been speaking to this coworker (28M) of mine more on than off since January. Towards the start, he revealed a previous drug addiction and I didn’t expect for him to open up about that kind of topic so soon into our talking, so I was a little hesitant on what to say so I tried to make a joke (My humor is more witty/sardonic/dark) and I said with a giggle and what not “Well hey, you’re not a crackhead anymore….” He didn’t even do crack, so it was stupid to say. I was in the middle of a 12 hr night shift as well so my brain gets foggy and it seems like my favorite thing to do is put my foot in my mouth smh. He laughed about it though, but after the shift, he said he took it personal and if it were anyone else, they might take it a direct attack on their character. I apologized profusely and I told him in no way was I trying to attack his character or trying to be insensitive to his addiction. He is three years sober as well, so that’s a huge feat!
The next occurrence was the second week of us talking, the previous one was the first. So this occurrence was thru the phone. There had already been a couple women he had been interested/had sex with a few months before we started talking. The other girl was 21 and pretty toxic. The other one just decided that she didn’t want to be around if the 21 yo was going to bring toxicity to the workplace. They both ended up quitting either way and he switched to overnights, whereas he had been working early afternoon to evenings. Anyway, with the two previous women in mind, he had to go the bathroom AT WORK and when he was gone, he was still texting me. I teased him about texting on his phone while he was peeing and he had replied back with “Maybee… 👀” So he is being playful as well and idk what else he said, but I said something along the lines of “Well I wouldn’t know if you actually are or not… I can’t ask for a picture 😂” Damn I can’t remember what he said but it was something along the lines of “maybe I could”or something like that. I clammed up in true ME fashion and got a little anxiety. I told him that I wasn’t that type of girl and it was giving off “player vibes.” I was disgruntled he would be willing to send a pic that fast when I was just joking about it. It just felt too soon for me? We hadn’t spoken about sex and I was trying to keep it that way until I got to know him more on personal level. Anyway, flash forward to now, we’ve still been talking. There are a couple of other instances where he was in the wrong or I was in the wrong and we compromised or we didn’t even talk about it after it happened. It sometimes feels like I’m walking on eggshells and anything I say sometimes might be taken the wrong way.
Theres another instance where he took my actual teasing in a way I didn’t expect. Backstory is a few weeks ago, he planned a float trip with me and 8/9 other coworkers after I invited him too late to a gathering involving some people I don’t know if he would even be cool with. I wanted to ask him all day, but he’s usually really busy and I had already brought up going out with friends to him during a phone call in the morning and he didn’t sound interested. Here’s another kicker. We are only FWB and not even exclusive at that, so I felt like it might be pushing a boundary to invite him and to seem like a couple, since he’s the one who has said he just wants a friendship right now. There’s been no exclusivity set, I have just hoped it is, because I haven’t had any issues and he has said he only has sex with 1 person at a time. ANYWAY, he was upset with me because I didn’t ask him, but meanwhile he was actually at a baseball game when I invited him. The plans were at 11 pm and I texted him at 8 pm just to see if he would like to come out. He didn’t answer until 1030, said he had plans and the last minute invite was hurtful. I apologized and tried to make it up to him. Told him to leave his next Friday open for me and tried to make sure he knew I had wanted to, I just didn’t want to cross boundaries. He just read it and never responded. We talked about it later on and tbh the situation paired with some jealousy over another coworker speaking/flirting with me led to him ending our FWB. He said it was becoming too much for him and he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to be my man, because his actions have seemed to not be going along with his own words on what he wants. So we ended and were amicable. For the float trip that would happen in a couple months, I was really sad about it, bc I kind of did want to go, but I overthink a lot and started thinking about how if I did go, him and I would probably rekindle and since he doesn’t know what he wants, it’s probably not a good idea, but then at the same time, I did still want to go just to have fun since I’d never been on a float trip before. My best friend agreed that I should just decline the invitation, so I went into the group chat and said “I actually have a camping trip that weekend, so I can’t go! Have fun yall! 🤍” and then just left the chat. I felt a huge weight off my shoulders. He says after I said that though, people declined… and what irritates me is that they are all their own person and a couple of them had already said they would be able to make it that weekend, but after I said it, barely anyone responded anymore and then someone who had agreed to come changed their mind. He felt that I canceled plans out of spite when I was just trying to protect my peace, knowing it probably would not go well. NOTE: The coworker he was jealous of was invited to the trip as well. I just felt like it was the smartest decision.
Anyway we rekindled the same week he ended it and have been talking since then. I know :/
Yesterday at his place, I was wearing something yesterday where he couldn’t keep his eyes off me, so I made the teasing comment “See? Now imagine if I had gone on that float trip… in a bikini… you’re drunk, I’m drunk…all of our coworkers would know by then 😅” and he just smiled and “You’re right… maybe we should plan a float trip with just you and me” and he got closer to me. Flash forward a couple hours later, he does the same thing where he just couldn’t quit touching me or kissing on me and so my dumbass brought it up again. I just said “Whoo, I really am glad I canceled on that, you CANNOT keeps your hands off me 😂” It was me teasing. He looked at me with a serious expression and said “You just had to say that, you just had to rub it in.” He took a deep breath and just walked away and went into the bathroom for a couple minutes. I felt super uncomfortable. When he came back out and we talked about it, but in completely honesty, I explained why I did what I did and apologized for saying what I said. He thinks I cancelled out of spite. It just felt like no matter what I said, he couldn’t come to a compromise or him understanding my perspective. Afterwards, I asked for total vulnerability from him with the promise to return it. The vulnerability didn’t feel too vulnerable, because he wouldn’t look at me and still seemed a little on the offensive. Towards the end, I asked him if he would like to go on a trip with me and he just said point blank “No.” I just… I had no words. I told him it was just a thought and he claimed he just has too much going on now to even go on a float trip, but… he’ll think about it. (He’s having expensive car issues)
Anyway, we just sat there watching a movie for a bit and I felt disconnected from him. I just felt like I didn’t know what to do and I don’t usually feel that way in relationships. I came out of a 4 month relationship awhile before him and we didn’t have any problems really, as well as it ending amicably. Before that, I was in a 9 year relationship starting from high school. The night went by fine after that, actually great tbh. It wasn’t until I was about to leave that he was sharing a story from his past about a police officer being too rough with him after he and a couple others when he was 18 would throws rocks at moving cars and what not. He told me he was running as fast as he could to get away, but the cop who caught him was too rough and he wanted to speak with the supervisor about pressing charges. The cop supervisor gave him tough love advice and told him things along the lines of that he should have thought of that before throwing rocks and vandalizing cars. The cop supe continued to tell him that basically the cop would get away with it anyway bc cop was white and the guy I’m with is a dark Hispanic. I’m still reeling from the blatant arrogance from the cop supervisor using race and I said “Is he wrong though?” because deep down, that is most likely what would have happened. Lo and behold though, HE THOUGHT I was talking about him deserving what he got for vandalizing cars when I was more focused on how the cops treated him and how they responded to his complaint. He immediately got up and said that “I was something else.” I actually teared up and just felt like leaving. Within a couple of minutes, he came back and told me that from his POV, he wished I had been more sympathetic and said that I was sorry it happened first rather than “Is he wrong though?” He said it was all good now, but for the record, he was not done with the story and I was most certainly going to say that I was sorry it happened and give him a hug afterwards. When I left, he gave me a hug and kiss goodbye, but deep down, I’m starting to wonder if I really am insensitive af, he’s highly sensitive, or he would rather misunderstand me than actually want to understand my thought process.

Boys: Justin, Ripper, Topher
Girls: Anne Maria, Jasmine, MK
Episode 19: The Princess Pride
"Last time, on Total Drama Action! Just when the cast thought they were safe, I swung in to surprise – I mean, antagonize them."
"The cast were forced to use their creative sides while showing off their back sides. As they made superhero costumes out of spandex. And...some other junk. Nice tights!"
"Of course, they were foiled by the diabolical Pythonicus, evil alter-ego of the villainous Chef!"
"In a fight against evil, the cast proved they could be heroes. And also, loooseerrss!"
"In the end, the most diabolical of them all was MK, who twisted things in order to get Chase eliminated."
The recap footage ended, and the scene flashed to the control tent where Chris was waiting with a smile. "Will the Gaffer alliance recover from Chase being gone? Will Anne Maria and Topher keep going out?" he pressed a button on the keyboard to his side, causing a picture of the couple to appear on one of the screens behind him.
"Maybe you'll find out right now?" he shrugged impishly as the scene changed again and he walked towards the cast trailers. "Maybe you won't? On another, totally dramatic episode of," he stopped in his tracks and the camera zoomed out with each further word, "Total! Drama! Action!"
(Theme Song)
The episode began with, of all things, a close-up of some brown and beany mush plopping onto a plate. The camera panned up to reveal its source as burrito beans in the hands of Jasmine being put together. Shots of Ripper, MK, and Justin also showed them making burritos as well.
The camera zoomed out to show the four constructing burritos on the table next to the tent's entrance while Topher and Anne Maria were at the other table, the former overseeing the quartet as he stood on the table and the latter simply applying lipstick to her lips.
“Ten more seconds, guys! The biggest burrito wins!” Topher declared and looked at Anne Maria. “Do you think I'd make a good reality show host?”
Anne Maria put her lipstick away. “Can you excuse me? I'm working on my facial features,” she said.
“But you already worked on yourself in the morning,” Topher said.
“You'd do the same if your hair was lookin’ messy,” Anne Maria retorted.
“Touché,” Topher pulled back.
“And time is up, folks!” MK informed everybody with her watch.
"Ripper, what do you got?” Topher asked the burly boy.
“Allow me to demonstrate my beefcake burrito!” Ripper held up his plate - his burrito has no wrapping and simply consisted of beef shaped into a cake. “I actually managed to make a cake out of beef.”
“How interesting,” Topher observed after getting off the table. “Jasmine, how about you?”
“These are my twin burritos!” Jasmine said with a plate that had two burritos tied together with an elastic rubber band.
“You actually wrapped your burritos?” Topher inspected heavily.
“Of course I did,” Jasmine nodded. “Twins are sometimes inseparable, and it's a good thing that these burritos aren't Siamese, otherwise they would have tried to eat one another.”
Topher laughed at her quip. “Points for that quip,” he said and made his way over to MK. “MK, how did you manage to make your burrito?”
“I am proud to present the MK Whopper!” MK took her burrito out from under the table and presented it - the burrito was shaped to look like MK with the beans as the body, wrap pieces as the hat and clothes, a sliced piece of tomato as the mouth, and pieces of beef as the eyes.
“The burrito is self-serving, but quality effort regardless,” Jasmine commented.
“Quality? Check out the guns on these beans,” Justin objected as his leitmotif played and he whipped out his burrito shaped to look like a flexing bicep. He even flexed his own bicep and moved his eyebrow in order to impress the contestants, but they were unfazed. “Nothing. You feel nothing?”
“Nope,” Jasmine shook her head.
“I was never once into you, Justin,” MK added as well.
“Man, this scratched schnoz has destroyed my looks and my life!” Justin moped. “Why?”
“MK, your self-art and ego is unsurprising, but you did make the biggest and best burrito, so you win,” Topher told her.
“This isn't right,” Justin protested and was now out of his seat. “I demand a second neutral opinion.”
“I'm no doctor or anything, but we all have reality-show-itis, and it's making us turn things into a challenge,” Anne Maria spoke up.
“I'm not sure if that's a thing, but I can't help myself when this day is bland and boring,” Topher said.
Confessional: Justin
“When my good looks went, so did my winning edge,” Justin told the viewers. “But some people are still managing to kick butt, and they're not nearly as good looking as I am!” He paused to think about what he said. “Okay, as I was.”
Confessional Ends
Justin was now sitting next to Anne Maria. “You know, you're the only one taking the game seriously. I just wish I knew how you did it all. It's so inspirational.”
“I'm just playing the game the best I know how,” Anne Maria said. “And it's not by sabotage like Scott did to me.”
“Scott also sabotaged my chances in the game as well,” Justin continued. “Hey, we have something in common.”
“Yeah we do, now go away,” Anne Maria ordered. “I don't know if they'll be a challenge, and I'd like to relax in peace.”
A few off-camera footsteps gave everyone pause, and they looked towards the room's entrance as the shot moved to a side-view of the room. Chef Hatchet had entered wearing a faded purple Medieval-styled costume, complete with a simple horn bearing a flag marked with a simple black-and-purple shield.
He blew a few awkward notes, then the camera moved in for a close-up as he made an announcement. "Hear ye, and rise! For Sir Chris!"
"Sir?!" Jasmine repeated with disbelief. "This Bruce's ego is fussing me to heaps!"
The shot moved back out to show Chris McLean riding atop the same decrepit-looking horse that had been used for a much earlier episode. He was wearing a knight's helmet and holding what looked to be a boot made of glass, and dismounted once Chef laid out a small rug for him to stand on.
"Hold on," Topher said slowly. "Glass slipper. Medieval stuff. This must be a Fairy Tale theme!"
"Topher," Chris said with stern annoyance, "if you ever steal my intro again, I'll have to personally boot you off the show."
"Hey, you can't do that!" Topher protested. "You brought me onto this show!"
"This boot," Chris said happily, "will determine the Princess for today's Fairy Tale movie challenge! The rest of you," he added as the camera panned across the tent from right to left, "compete for the honor of rescuing the fair Princess."
Anne Maria immediately raised her hand eagerly. "I wanna be the Princess!"
"I said the fair Princess," Chris repeated. "And what we think is fair is that the candidates be the ladies who haven't had a win since the merge: MK," he looked at the unamused techno, "and Jasmine." The focus moved to the Outback girl, who merely raised an eyebrow.
Confessional: Jasmine
"Okay, I am not Princess material," Jasmine said in the make-up confessional. "Not only am I too tall to fit the role, but I'm not really interested in fairy tales."
Confessional Ends
A short drumroll preceded an even shorter chanted note as MK and Jasmine approached the end of the table closest to the tent entrance.
"Yeah, there's no way that I'm gonna be some Princess, McLean!" MK barked at the host who was standing nearby with the glass boot still in his hand. "And don't even try to jam that boot on my foot."
"Okay," Chris said slowly, "that's a no for MK. Jasmine, you're up."
"Well, I'm not fond of fairy tales," Jasmine said, "but I might as well."
"Hold on there, Thunder from Down Under," Chris told her. "You have to put the boot on first. Make sure you're actually Princess material."
Jasmine frowned. "Okay then." She sat on the end of the table, slipped off one of her shoes, and tried to force it on.
The host and other castmates watched as she grunted and began to sweat, trying to get the boot onto her foot. Eventually, she let out a disappointed breath and held the boot back up. "It's no use," Jasmine told the host. "I can't get it on, and even then, it would shatter to pieces."
"Well," Chris said blankly, "guess that's both candidates out, unless MK changes her mind."
MK just glared at him. "Not a chance."
Anne Maria immediately grinned. "Yo Chris!"
"Looks like we have to do another selection method," Chris grabbed the glass boot and began to turn, only for Anne Maria to dart forward and snatch the footwear away from him.
Anne Maria swiftly tossed aside one of her heels and replaced it with the glass boot. "There," she said with a smile, raising her leg to show the boot glimmering on the end of it, "I always knew that I was meant to be royalty!"
"Fine, Anne Maria can be the Princess," Chris said heavily. "Let's just get this over with. Chef?" he looked back over his shoulder, and the shot pulled back to show the hulking man arriving back on the scene. He had changed into a pale blue ballerina's outfit, and had strapped a pair of fake wings to his back that, along with the glittering 'wand' in his hand, gave him the appearance of a fairy godmother.
"I dub thee, Princess Anne Maria," Chef said shortly as a touching song played, waving the wand above the grinning girl's head and releasing a cloud of sparkling dust that nearly choked Topher, Ripper, and Justin.
Confessional: MK
"Anne Maria as the Princess?" MK told the confessional camera with a snort and a laugh. "I wouldn't want to be in that Fairy Tale. Along with any others out there."
Confessional Ends
A harp played in the background as an image of Chris' head and a large hardcover book appeared on screen in front of a yellowish stock background. "It's story time, with uncle Chris," the host's disembodied head said before the scene flashed to him seated in a large purple armchair with the same book in hand. His left hand was on a joystick built into the arm of the chair, and he seemed to be slowly rolling through the set.
"Once upon a time," he began slowly, the camera pulling back to show the host rolling up to the contestants minus Anne Maria on a wheeled platform, his chair joined by a matching footstool, pedestal side table, and even a fireplace. "Five brave knights went on a quest to rescue a Princess from her ivory tower." He pulled back on the joystick, and the platform came to a stop. "But, it wasn't gonna be easy! First," he looked at the staircase behind him, "the knights had to get past my very good friend," the shot quick-panned up and left to Chef, now dressed in a tattered vest and trousers with a long moss-green wig and beard, "the Terrible Toothless Troll!" The shot zoomed in on Chef as he quickly blackened a few of his front teeth with a sharpie. "And, his Bad Breaks Bridge!"
The camera zoomed out even further as a few ominous chants played in the background, showing a large mountainous set featuring a rickety rope bridge over a treacherous and craggy fake waterfall. The contestants gulped.
"To get past the Terrible Toothless Troll," Chris read on, "the knights had to wear disguises! There was the Frog Prince," he grabbed a vaguely frog-like great helm from behind his chair and tossed it to Justin, "and the Ugly Stepsister," he tossed a large wig of wavy red hair in a tall bun to MK. "Snow White," he tossed a pink sleep mask to Jasmine, "and one of her Seven Dwarves," he followed that up by throwing a tall wizard's hat patterned with stars, moons, and lightning bolts to Topher. "Aaand," the host finished by pulling out a bright red hooded cape, "Little Red Riding Hood."
He tossed it to Ripper, who raised an eyebrow as he caught it. "Seriously? Can't I just be Riding Red?"
"No dice dude. That's what it says in the script," Chris told him as an unseen intern delivered a plate of milk and cookies to the host's side table. He turned and grabbed one, saying "Good work, kid," before continuing his monologue. "And so, the Ugly approached the Terrible Troll."
"I can't see in this thing!" MK said.
"Oh yeah," Chris said to a dramatic rise in the background music, "for this challenge, each knight is blind." The five teens immediately began to protest, causing the host to snap at them. "Nowhere in this story does it say 'the cowardly knights complained'!" he told the cast with a brief glance at his book. "So get it together, steppy, and get crossing!"
The footage skipped ahead to show MK slowly inching her way across the bridge while holding on to one of the rope rails. "This ain't too bad," she said to herself. She was hit by several red apples in rapid succession, causing her to yelp in pain.
"Oh, also," Chris said as the shot cut back to him, "those are Wicked Witch's apples, so, they're poisonous and rotten. You might wanna watch..."
He stopped talking as the shot cut back to MK slipping on one of the apples and fell off the bridge to the rocky set below. The camera followed as she fell and bounced off of several outcroppings before landing onto the hard ground. The shot cut briefly to the other contestants as they winced in pain before cutting back to the techno girl lying awkwardly on the ground with an apple in her mouth.
"Well, looks like MK isn't fairy tale hero material," Chris commented, dunking one of his cookies into his glass of milk. The short girl writhed in pain.
Confessional: MK
MK had on a neck brace and bandages around her head and torso, "I'm having trouble remembering what happened after the fall. Does that mean I have a concussion?"
Confessional Ends
A harp was played as the footage cut back to the other contestants standing at the start of the bridge. "Next, the eighth dwarf," Chris said as he moved his platform around towards the far staircase. "He grabbed a fistful of courage and headed across the bridge."
Topher glanced over at Chef. The man had hunched over, and was slapping a cat o' nine tails against his hand with a wild grin. He took a deep breath, put on the wizard’s hat over his eyes, and charged forward with a battle cry. Chef raised his eyebrows and rushed out to stop him, but he jumped onto a rope rail and ran through it until he was past Chef.
"Did I make it?" Topher asked, having reached the other side.
Confessional: Topher
"Poise classes have taught me to always be aware of my surroundings, whether I’m blindfolded or not," Topher grinned. "And with Anne Maria as the Princess, I’m not botching this one."
Confessional Ends
The footage skipped ahead to Jasmine's attempt, the sleeping mask already over her eyes and her hands firmly on the ropes of the bridge as she walked forward at a steady pace. Chef squeezed a mother goose, launching a golden egg out of its rear like a bullet. It shot past the girl's shoulder. "What was that?" Jasmine asked as she moved her head to track it. A second egg hit her square in the chest, knocking her back a step and putting a grin on Chef's face.
Jasmine frowned for a moment, then took a cautious step that was apparently at the bridge's weak point. The camera zoomed in on the bridge as it rippled, knocking loose every plank all the way to Chef. With a gasp and a scream, the troll and his goose fell, and the scene cut to him as he grabbed something behind his back. "They don't pay me enough for this!" Chef yelled, pulling the cord of a hidden parachute and floating down safely.
Jasmine was unaware of the danger and took one more step, expectedly screaming and falling. The camera cut to Chris as he followed the Amazon girl's fall and winced at the sound of an impact. "Awesome!" he cheered. "You’re up, froggy." The scene cut to the start of the bridge where Justin stood. "Then Captain Hood after that."
Justin put on his helmet. "At least my face will be protected from further indignity," he said as he slowly moved towards the bridge. He walked right shoulder into one of the posts holding up the bridge.
Ripper laughed. "Tough break, pretty boy," he jeered. "Go a little to the right." The eye candy followed the advice and walked into the other pole, causing Ripper to laugh. "Sorry man!" the bully called before laughing again.
Chef was shown running past the center of the bridge with an ax raised and ready to strike, while Justin stayed at the bridge completely oblivious. Ripper laughed once more and pushed the model into the cook. "Let me give you a hand," he said as he did so. Chef brought his ax down and hit the hot boy's helmet, causing the eyes to spin comically and Ripper to laugh once more.
Confessional: Justin
“There I was, down dirty, and deafened,” Justin recapped his failure. “And I thought "W.W.A.M.D.": What would Anne Maria do? And then it came to me! She'd use her head.”
Confessional Ends
With a battle cry, Justin rushed the cook with his helmet and ran him over, safely making it to the other side. "Justin's still got it!" Chris said as the camera cut to him. "All right, the final knight attempting to enter Fairy Tale Land is," the shot cut to Ripper as he tied a blindfold over his eyes and faced away from the camera, "Riding Red! We're over this way!"
"My seeing is good," Ripper said as he turned around. The camera cut to his perspective to show that he could actually see Chef putting on a blonde pigtailed wig. "I'm able to see Chef as a female troll! Hilarious!"
"Rapunzel dude, let down your hair!" Chris called, and Chef lengthened one of the pigtails and began swinging it around. He cracked it like a whip at the bully, who dodged it.
The camera cut to Justin watching Ripper avoid every attack. "Hey! He can see!" he cried.
"How?" Chris asked sarcastically. "With his X-ray vision? That'd be cool."
Chef attacked one last time, but Ripper grabbed onto the pigtail and swung across to safety with a whoop.
The footage skipped ahead to a close-up of Chris's book as he began to narrate once again. "And so, the Terrible Toothless Troll knocked off two losers," the shot pulled back to show Jasmine, wearing a leg cast and her right arm in a sling, and MK sitting on the ground nearby. "But," the camera panned over to Justin, Ripper, and Topher on the right, "three semi-brave knights made it to the other side and continued on their noble quest. Whereupon I, in my wisdom, inspired them with a vision of Princess Anne Maria."
The shot pulled back even further, revealing that the group had assembled in front of a small stage with a pink-tinted backdrop depicting a large white castle off in distant hillsides. A slow piano melody began to play as Anne Maria, now dressed in a regal-looking pink gown and tiara, was lowered onto the stage by a few wires.
"When I was a little girl, I'd dream of my first kiss," Anne Maria began to sing in a rather mediocre voice the moment she hit the stage and the wired harness was reeled back up. "It would come from my perfect prince!" A number of tiny birds and chipmunks gathered around her, the birds even landing on her hands. "And in my dream, it went like this!"
The scene immediately cut to the three remaining knights as they watched the performance. Justin and Topher were both stunned by her display, while Ripper couldn't care less.
“She's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Justin said.
Definitely,” Topher chimed in.
“I must've been so busy seeing her as a potential alliance member and extra vote that I didn't see her outer beauty. Wow,” Justin continued in amazement. “We'll be the best looking couple in the kingdom!”
The music came to a halt as Topher and Ripper were surprised by what just came out of Justin's mouth.
“Excuse me, but I am still dating her!” Topher objected heavily.
“And there's no way she'll ever be into you,” Ripper told Justin.
“I saw you cheat, Ripper,” Justin let him know. “You don't deserve to be anybody's prince.”
“And who died and made you the rule master?” Ripper faced the handsome boy threateningly.
"Guys, guys!" Chris said, stepping forward and getting between the boys. "No need to fight! At least not until after this break," he declared happily. "Will Ripper inflict any deformities on Justin? Or will Justin's ripped physique bring two tons of hurt down on Topher's head? Find out when we come back!"
(Commercial Break)
The footage came back to a distance shot of the stage Anne Maria was still singing on, her music resuming as the shot cut closer.
"My prince will be tall and handsome," she sang, the camera panning down to catch Justin standing straight and proud. "My prince will be tough as nails," Ripper flexed his biceps and then lifted a startled Topher over his head.
"My prince will have lots of money," Anne Maria continued, the camera moving back on her as she showered the stage with a wad of cash. "My prince will tame wild whales!" She flexed her own arms, Chris nodded to the beat, and the shot cut to Topher looking at a small and rather disoriented baleen whale on the floor in confusion.
The shot panned down to Jasmine and MK who were watching the performance with boredom on their faces.
"How are you feeling about the whole Fairy Tale thing?" Jasmine asked MK.
"Couldn't care less," MK answered bluntly. "I just don't know why we have to keep watching though."
A close-up was shown of Anne Maria reaching for a wary-eyed frog in a small crown, the Jersey girl pulling it closer to her as she finished her song. "When we kiss~, my prince will be you~!" As the music ended, she held up the frog and kissed it on the lips, but broke almost immediately in a fit of revulsion.
Anne Maria threw the frog away from her, and it landed on Justin's face. "Warts! Get it off!" he cried out as he ran around trying to get the frog out.
"Wasn't that song brilliant?" Chris asked as the focus moved back to him, Jasmine, and MK. "It was so brilliant, I know everyone wishes they could hear it over, and over, and over again! And now they can." He snapped his fingers, and a CD case bearing Princess Anne Maria's picture on the cover was placed in his waiting hand.
"Relive the magic of Anne Maria for only $12.99," he told the camera as a deep and theatrical tune began to play. "Call 555-SELLOUT to get your authentic Princess Anne Maria CD," he added as the camera zoomed in on the case, "before everyone else downloads it illegally!"
"I'll take one!" Topher quickly begged, earning him a CD. "This will be worth spending thirteen dollars of my money."
Confessional: Topher
"My prince will buy me lots of hot dogs! My prince will love ponies too!" Topher was listening to the CD through headphones as his confessional began. "Her singing isn't the best, but I do want to support her," he told the camera.
Confessional Ends
"After risking my life for you, I have come to realize this!" Justin said as he approached the stage. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And the smartest. What are the odds?"
He offered his hand to Anne Maria, but she didn't take it. "Thanks for telling me what I already know!"
"Uhh, aren't you going to compliment me on my bravery?" Justin asked.
"Nah! Princesses are supposed to be complimented in my world,” Anne Maria said, to Justin's disappointment. “It's not their job to give them out to anyone, but for me, I'll make an exception for Topher, the handsomest knight around!”
The camera moved to Ripper rolling her eyes and Topher smiling. “And you are the most beautiful princess around!” Topher complimented back before a sound caught the attention of both. They turned their heads at once and the scene followed their gaze over to Chef, still in his troll costume but now riding the same fly-ridden horse from earlier in the episode.
"How has that horse not died yet?" MK commented. "It can't be in good condition after all their time being used on this show."
"Just because it's a little old, doesn't mean it's not fighting for their life," Jasmine told her.
Anne Maria hopped onto the horse's back while Ripper and Topher came over. “Are we supposed to catch him?" Topher asked.
"No, it's a classic princess abduction," Chris explained calmly. "As the villain makes a whirlwind getaway on a swift steed."
Chef kicked the horse with his feet, but it didn't react. "Guess ol' Betsy here didn't read the script," he said gruffly.
"Kick harder," Chris commanded, and Chef promptly complied. A stronger kick caused the horse to kick backwards, hitting Justin – who had been standing closest - right in the face.
"That did it," Chef said as Justin was shown to have a few teeth knocked out and a bruised right eye.
"So, that's how the three knight dudes lost the Princess," Chris narrated, "But fate, aka me, wasn't finished with them." Chef and Anne Maria rode off behind him. "They followed the troll all the way to a fight to the death, because that's how I like my princesses saved."
"Sir Topher!" Anne Maria called out playfully as she was slowly abducted. "You better be the one who rescues me!"
"These two haven't even got a chance!" Topher replied arrogantly.
"As good luck, I'll give you my favor to carry into the battle!" Anne Maria tossed the glass boot, but it unintentionally hit Justin in the face.
Confessional: Justin
Justin was having his bruises covered up by make-up brushes from two unknown people while the glass boot was on the table.
“Falling for Anne Maria has been hard on the face. I think we'll have a no glass shoes policy if we start dating soon,” Justin informed and put the boot away. “I have no idea what Chase and Millie's policies are, but they're probably less dignified.”
Confessional Ends
The footage cut forward to a close-up of the old horse chewing on some hay before the camera panned over to a small castle archway propped up against a tower of some sort. "Sir Justin, Sir Topher, and Sir Ripper reached the ivory tower in which the troll had stuck the super tanned princess," Chris read as the three remaining competitors walked into the scene and he followed on his rolling platform. The shot panned up the towers, where several other pieces of crenelated wall had been attached here and there, and at the very top there was a pinkish spire and balcony where Princess Anne Maria waited.
"But there was only one way to rescue her," the host continued with a grin on his face and tense music building in the background. "One of the brave knights had to slay the dragon!"
"Dragon?!" Jasmine asked in alarm. "Tell me you didn't get a real dragon for this!"
"Seeing as dragons don't exist," MK told her, "I find that highly unlikely."
"She's right," Chris said as the music switched to something more ominously lurking. "We're reusing the alien monster guy."
Seconds later, a few tremendous mechanical footsteps were heard. MK and Jasmine looked to stage right and the camera pulled back, showing off the animatronic monster in all its glory. Chef was wearing the motion capture suit that controlled it, and it had been given a hood with horns, a scraggly 'beard', and two tiny wings in order to make it look more draconic. Chef raised his arms menacingly, and the monster echoed the pose and growled.
"Let the dragon slaying begin!" Chris announced, pulling out a trio of wooden swords and throwing them to the knights. Ripper caught the shortest, Topher the most slender, and Justin the broadest, and the three turned to face the tower and dragon.
"I'm counting on you, Sir Topher!" Anne Maria called from above, smiling at the fanboy and blowing him a kiss. He accepted it with a grin, and Anne Maria turned her attention to the other two knights and frowned. "As for you two, you'll need all the luck you can get."
"Yeah, cause I'll be the one who's going to slay today!" Topher boasted before turning and charging at the dragon.
"Not so fast," Justin charged at Topher and the two clashed their swords into each other's, only breaking when they noticed a foot-shaped shadow fall upon them. They rolled out of the way before the monster stomped them, and the camera panned over to Justin landing next to Ripper.
“You want Topher to win?” Justin faced Ripper.
“Like I care which one of you wins,” Ripper scoffed.
“Then help me take him down and I'll let you win,” Justin offered.
Ripper thought about it, and the viewpoint moved over to Chef guiding the monster in stomping and snapping at Topher. He was able to strike the dragon's head with his sword. “You are not going to stop me from rescuing Anne Maria!” the fanboy told the dragon.
“Just get them both chasing you,” Ripper suggested.
“And why?” Justin asked.
“Do you want to stop that monster or not?” Ripper glared. “Just do it!”
Justin sighed but complied, and both Topher and the Chef-controlled monster made moves to chase after him while Ripper watched from the sidelines.
“Are you going to fight me or run away from me?!” Topher asked with a taunt.
“Justin, you're going to stop running in 3…2…1!” Ripper ordered, and Justin paused his dash.
Topher also stopped chasing him as well, and the dragon, who was still trying to chase the others, caught its foot on Topher and somehow tripped. It flailed its arms humorously before crashing to the ground.
"A job well done," Ripper said as he ran over to the large red button on the side of the beast's neck. “Now to claim my second immunity win in a row!” he said as he readied his sword to finish it off, but Justin came up to push him off the dragon and onto the floor.
"Sorry Ripper," Justin told him. "If Izzy was the prize, I'm sure you'd do the same thing." He plunged his sword into the dragon's neck, causing it to fizzle and short out. "Anne Maria," he dramatically called out, "your prince is coming."
"Some prince," Ripper mocked.
The camera panned to the right to show Chris' moving platform as he arrived with Jasmine and MK in tow.
"Wanna rescue Princess Anne Maria too?" he asked the camera. "Now you can, for only $79.95!" he pulled out a pink-and-yellow striped box and held it up for the camera, a vaguely Anne Maria-shaped doll barely visible inside. "Order your very own Princess Anne Maria Limited Edition Glass Boot Doll! Playing with the Anne Maria doll is more fun and less dangerous than playing with the real Anne Maria. Guaranteed!" He finished with a cheesy grin.
The scene cut to the top of the ivory tower as Justin climbed up to the balcony where Anne Maria waited. "I have arrived!" Justin announced.
"Not the guy I was expecting, but a reward is a reward," Anne Maria grumbled and the two moved in for a kiss.
"Wait, wait, there's no kissing!" Chris interrupted the two from his chair.
“What?” Justin felt confused.
“Oh yeah!” Topher cheered from under the dragon.
"It says here that Prince Justin and Princess Anne Maria must sword fight to determine the true winner!" Chris explained while reading off his book.
"Which means I still have a chance at winning immunity?" Anne Maria asked quickly.
"You're much smarter than most princesses," Chris replied.
"Usually, most fairy tales end with a kiss," Jasmine said.
"Well, this is a modern tale," Chris explained. "Gals have to fight for themselves."
“You can say that again,” MK agreed.
“If that's how it has to be-” Anne Maria said.
“No,” Justin cut her off, now kneeling on one leg. “I am a noble gentleman. A brave knight. A handsome prince. I would never hurt a lady.”
“But you would hurt a guy working with you,” Ripper interjected after getting up on his feet.
“I said I was sorry, Ripper,” Justin told him with annoyance and focused back on Anne Maria. “I refuse to raise a sword to Anne Maria.” Anne Maria took the sword from him. “I give up any chance at immunity to spare her. And now…”
Justin puckered his lips and moved close, only for his eyes to widen. The camera pulled back to show the hilt of the sword buried in his crotch.
“Not sorry! I'm already taken!" Anne Maria declared before pushing Justin off.
Justin fell with a scream until he hit one of the 'towers' on his cheek. He kept on hitting one tower after another until he hit the ground on his back in severe pain. “I'm okay!”
The camera panned over to Chris and the other losers. "Anne Maria wins immunity! Again!" the host announced.
"Yes!" Anne Maria cheered.
The opening sequence of the Gilded Chris Ceremony came and went, leaving the scene focused on the tux-wearing host at his podium. "So," Chris began with an award already in his hand, "with immunity, Anne Maria is the first to win a Gilded Chris." He tossed the statuette to the girl, sitting on the left side of the bleachers, and she caught it with a smug grin.
"Immunity and my own dolls? How much better can this day get?" Anne Maria said.
"Well, it's not like you're getting the profits from the Princess Anne Maria line," Chris said plainly.
Anne Maria's eyes popped open in shock. "Uh, what?!" she said in outrage. “It's my line!”
“I’m saying that you're not going to get the profits because they’ll be sent over to your family for safekeeping, along with a Princess Anne Maria doll,” Chris explained. “I don't want any of my interns or producers to take what's rightfully yours. Lawsuits and all.”
“Oh!” Anne Maria said in relief. “I'm relieved, but I'm also upset that you made me act like an idiot!”
"Then you should have let me finish! Also still in the competish," Chris announced with another two awards in his hand, "MK and Jasmine." The former caught her prize in her lap with a confident grin, and the latter with a happy smile.
"And also Ripper," the host continued, the camera panning to the bully who smiled as he caught his award.
Spotlights were put on Justin and Topher, the former in a body cast. "Who will live happily ever after, and who will die penniless," Chris said as the music built dramatically. "And the last Gilded Chris goes to… Justin!"
"What?!" Anne Maria stood up. "You have to be joking! Justin should be going home!"
"Yeah, you're right. I was just kidding," Chris said. "Justin's actually the one who's been eliminated."
Topher caught his award. “I knew I would be safe.”
Confessional: Topher
“I told everybody to vote off Justin,” Topher confirmed. “He tried to move in on my girlfriend, and him getting booted would serve him right. The best part is, everybody was on board with it and I didn’t even have to try and convince them.”
Confessional Ends
Justin got up and started to head to the red carpet, but stopped to look at the contestants. “So is no one even going to miss me?”
“I never liked you,” MK shrugged.
“See ya,” Ripper said apathetically. “Get better soon, or sometime.”
“Okay, stop already! I'm going! But you'll regret it,” Justin told them and walked to the red carpet. Before getting into the limousine, he gave one last look to the remaining players. “With me gone, this competition just got eighty percent less handsome.” The eye candy turned around, only to hit his head on the roof. “All right, seventy-nine!” he groaned.
The footage paused there, and the camera pulled back to show it on one of the monitors in the control tent. Chris was sitting in his chair playing with a couple of Princess Anne Maria dolls, a few more scattered on the nearby desk.
"I know what I told Anne Maria, but marketing says that our target audience is too old for dolls," Chris told the camera as the footage on the monitor cut to static. "They're just not selling!" He looked to the side, and the camera panned to follow and show Chef playing with a group of Princess Anne Maria dolls dressed up as soldiers.
"Princesses, attack!" he said with a dark grin, lighting a miniature cannon with a match as the deeper and more dramatic ending theme began to play. The cannon fired with a puff, blowing the heads off two of the dolls.
Chris gave him an odd look, then turned back to the camera. "Hey target audience! Make sure you don't miss the next kiss-filled episode of Total! Drama! Action!" As soon as he finished saying the title, he mashed the mouths of the two dolls he was holding together and made kissing sounds. "Now you see, Chef," he told his companion, "that's how you play with dolls."
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
The scene opened to Justin sitting on the back seat of the limousine with the glass boot in hand. “What I've learned? Well, maybe that good looks won't take you everywhere you want to go,” he said wisely. “I mean, what have I ended up with? A wounded face, a bruised ego, and a shoe that I can't even wear. Maybe if I stopped modeling and threw all my energy into getting smarter, more girls could fall in love with me,” he thought. “But modeling pays. And Jesús, my booker, says that even with my severe facial wounds, he can get me a bunch of leg modeling and some celebrity kid's birthday party. So, love schmove.” He threw the glass boot out the window, and a shattering sound indicated that the boot was destroyed.
Eva - 15th
Geoff - 15th
Izzy - RETURNED
Trent - 13th
Sky - 12th
Brick - 11th
Scott - 10th
Izzy - 9th
Millie - 8th
MERGE
Chase - 7th
Justin - 6th
Boys: Ripper, Topher
Girls: Anne Maria, Jasmine, MK

So today I had the Alliance auditions here in Houston where you audition for all the theatre companies in Houston. I did two monologues, a comedic monologue and a dramatic monologue, all under two minutes. I thought I did fine, I didn’t rush anything, I didn’t stumble lines or blanked, and I especially didn’t go over two minutes and had to hear “okay thank you!” in mid sentence. But as I finished and was going to leave, I said thank you and got a quiet response. I don’t want to stress at all because it’s only the first day of auditions (it’s a two day audition) but I just feel like I messed up when I really want to get a callback. I felt natural and did everything I planned to do going into this audition but whenever I finish an audition, I always get these feelings like I didn’t do enough or they didn’t like me enough to just give me one callback. Am I overthinking and should just move on? Is it normal for directors to not say that much in these types of auditions? What are some methods to just let go and know I did good?

TLDR:
* It wasn't WG that caused the flood of Void Century
* JoyBoy became the first pirate because of the flood
I think Oda deliberately trying to make us think it was WG who caused the flood, but there are hints that point at a different likely scenario.

Why did JoyBoy become the first pirate?

Let's ask this question differently: Why there were no pirates before JoyBoy?
I believe we know the answer already - before the flood the world was one big continent, so sea travel was mostly unnecessary. No sea travel, no pirates.
After the flood the world became divided. And JoyBoy was the first one that took to the seas.

Who caused the flood?

According to Vegapunk the flood was man made, so who caused it?
It seems Oda wants us to think it was the World Government. However something does not line up.
We know the great war occurred between 20 kingdoms and JoyBoy's faction. So 20 kingdoms only teamed up after JoyBoy became prominent during Void Century.
And since we just established that he started his pirate journey after the flood, there is no way the 20 kingdoms caused it.
Then who was it? I tend to think it was the Ancient Kingdom itself (though may be not deliberately). And it was probably due to an accident or a plot (by Imu?).
As we know, Ancient Kingdom was very advanced and had technologies that even Vegapunk couldn't reproduce. So there are plenty of possibilities of what could've gone wrong. Scientific inventions do blow up occasionally, as we've seen many times with Vegapunk's own stuff. Or piece of the Ancient Power Source (nuclear fusion) was stolen, similarly to what York did with Mother Flame.

Void Century Timeline

So how would timeline of Void Century look like? There are still many blank spots but here is my best guess so far:

1. Ancient Kingdom established (likely by, or in coalition with, one of the Moon races that possessed advanced technologies)
2. Soon after establishment an incident occurs (likely involving the power source) that causes the flood. Many countries across the world are affected, many die. The remaining few are able to relocate to higher ground. Ancient Kingdom survives as well, or what remains of it.
3. JoyBoy is born into Ancient Kingdom, soon after the flood.
4. He learns that the world is divided today by the seas, but it wasn't always like that and not so long ago it was one big continent.
5. He takes to seas, becomes a pirate and gradually learns the truth of the world through his adventures, as well as the truth of what caused the incident. At some point he comes up with a plan for One Piece.
6. The plan becomes known to the world leaders and some of them are against it. They propose their own plan. They would become the 20 kingdoms that started the war of two ideologies against JoyBoy.
7. We know the result of this war - JoyBoy is defeated, World Government is established, all traces of Ancient Kingdom are erased.

Bonus thought: Laugh Tale

If Void Century flood was the result of the war between JoyBoy and WG - it's hard to think of it as part of the Laugh Tale that Roger and his crew read on the last island. Any story that ends with a calamity killing entire populations (likely) would not be something to laugh at.
But if story of JoyBoy starts after the flood and mostly consists of his journey as the first pirate, then this would be much more believable.

Was hoping for a clean 100 souls but have 75 instead. Maybe the last 25 can be filled with other DM's/Party's ideas/adventures. I like something unfinished, honestly.
There's some obvious influence/thievery from OSR heavy hitters in here but I've attempted to keep it at a minimum just to inch my way to a clean 75 since 100 is proving troublesome. And honestly I've forgotten where some of these stolen/restructured ideas have come from. Feel free to credit link any so others can know their great works.
(e.g. P. Stuart, D. Selle, Coins and Scrolls, Goblin Punch, Vivien Feasson, S. Princess, Z. Cox/B. Brown, B. Milton, L. Rejec, P. Nilsson)
I doubt all the aforementioned are present in this list but I just wanna cover bases and/or call out incredible minds and effort in the hobby who I've really enjoyed. Call out any unlisted if you please. Credit where credit is due.
Edit: Whoof, formatting again
Edit 2: Cant change some numeration here it seems. Sub-traits are counted as independent entries. Italicized and emboldened sub-traits to help differentiate.
The Stilletto of The Imperator Scum (Trident)
On an (un)natural 20, consume a soul randomly from the table activating its effect, removing it from the table permanently
On a (un)natural 1, the target dies immediately and is resurrected as an undead. Pores on its body explode with rapid growth fungus and it’s health, and spell slots if applicable, are restored to their maximums. Their soul then becomes one with The Stiletto and is added to the table.
Soul of the…:

1. Ardent Giant - +2d6 dmg. to your attacks towards the target. Change the weather to which you desire
2. Befouler - target fucking stinks, if within 15ft Con. Sav 12 every round to keep from vomiting.
3. Gnarled Oak - that target lives the life of a tree in an instant. Witnessing love of child and pet. They see the first kiss of young love with the tip of the blade within their trunk declaring theirs eternal. They bear the burden of parenthood, choked with a child’s swing. The same swing their groom or bride will swing on, in remembrance, decades later. A generation of someones else’s life wears on them in the span of seconds. T
   1. Take 1d4 dmg. from the blade
   2. -2 Wis. as the dog pisses on them (1min duration)
   3. 3d8 dmg. as their branches are cut for a treehouse
   4. They will fall asleep in winter temperatures unable to wake up
   5. As long as their corpse touches soil they will resurrect in unspecified time
   6. If the target is killed within a city (soil or not) they will die sobbing with such penetrating sobbing. Within a mile radius, it lowers all CHA and WIS scores within range by 2 for 24hrs.
4. Devil - the target’s eyes wash with color and your reflection is upside down. They provide you a contract/offer that is too good to pass up. You literally can’t resist it but it’s also a really great deal. Other than the fact that your soul is lost at failure of completion. Unless the killing blow dealt to the Devil is holy damage, they arrive at The Nine Hells to bide their time before they continue their cursed bargains upon the mortal realm.
5. Claviger - The target is compelled to open the nearest door. If not the door, then box/barrel, chest, bag, pocket. Consume their next action. If the object doesn't open, spend each preceding action until it does.
6. Scion of the Slithering Soil - the target embodies the nameless soul of a god-fearing priest of Mi-Shao-Shur. Dedicated fully to Serpentine Ascension by committing acts of gratuitous depravity. They become a beacon for the resurrection of Mi-Shao-Shur by consuming their own flesh, restoring their health to its maximum. Revealing underneath their now-true serpentine forms. Their intelligence increases by 4 and from their mouths can cast the Poison Spray cantrip. The target can now communicate with nearby creatures and convince them to do their bidding.
7. Exploding Toad - target explodes. Dex Sav 13 or take 5d6 fire dmg.
8. Dwarf - target becomes one. Genderless. Immune to all compulsions that play on a desire for sex. No sexual organs. Instead of urinating you excrete waste through sweating, explaining the odor.
9. Tahlia - the target’s soul becomes trapped on the most worthless item on their person that isn’t a weapon or armor. Their body begins to thrash and scream mindlessly. Bodies are full of life and feelings but suffer the penultimate separation anxiety from the soul. The terrified shell will attempt to consume the item worth most to someone nearby with supernatural capacity. If they do so, your item is lost forever and the target becomes whole once more, restoring full health.
10. PorteBasin Filler - Nothing satiates the target’s desire to serve, will seek out more and more challenging tasks for such a talented valet
11. Abhorrer - target is unable to be targeted with any malice. The hate within you boils still but physically you are unable to be anything but be cordial and polite to the target. The creature knows every law and obeys them. It will use the law (if there is any) to destroy you.
12. Cannibal Critic - target is no longer able to communicate in normal language. Of their cursed race the target can only howl bestial war cries of generic criticism. And hastily consume flesh. Successfully answering a question can cause the target to pause and grunt in reflection before screaming another random question.
    1. WHAT’S THE MESSAGE
    2. WHAT DOES IT MEAN
    3. IS IT IRONIC
    4. IS IT KITSCH
    5. DON’T YOU FIND IT PROBLEMATIC
13. Dragonborn - If the dmg. dealt is to a non-dragonborn creature then the creature takes dmg. from their innate breath weapon, held within glands of which no non-dragonborn is prepared. 6d6 acid and poison dmg as their insides boil with draconic bile.
14. Gargoyle - FUCK BIIIIIRRRRRRRRDSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
15. Duergar - roll a d2 to Enlarge/Reduce target. Acquire sensitivity to sunlight regardless.
16. Untermensch - the target’s muscles atrophy and their mind begins to falter as all of their ability scores reduce to 8. If one of their scores is less than 8 it does not rise to 8. Apply a -2 mod. to every dice rolled. The only thing of which they can be relied upon is to either fail or clumsily execute every task.
17. Drow - target adheres to a woman’s word almost unwillingly and acquires sensitivity to sunlight. Incessantly mutters consequence for someone under their breath for whom they despise.
18. Githzerai - target casts Plane Shift unwittingly on self.
19. Bedlam Bird - The target knows when it is being looked at. The target loses all alliances and registers as “Evil” to spells and senses that detect such. It is compelled to commit pranks that are utterly fucked.
20. Wizard - Your weapon moves through the air at your exact command. Gains Antimagic Susceptibility. Lasts 2 min.
21. Azer - The target’s head ignites, it’s skull a torchlight shining bright light in a 15ft radius and dim light for an additional 10ft. It cannot be put out with water. The target takes 1d8 per round for 3 rounds.
22. Banshee - the target casts Wail. All within 30 ft. (including target) Con sav 13 or drop to 0 HP. On a success 3d6 psychic dmg. After the Wail, the target goes mute as their vocal cords are stretched to leather and can only emit a poor whine if exhaustion.
23. Androsphinx - The target’s body explodes and from within erupts a Heroes’ Feast. The depleted carcass turning into a gorgeous royal table spread.
24. Basilisk - Bestowed upon the target is a basilisk’s Petrifying Gaze.
25. Revenant - The target will rise as a Revenant 48 hrs after it’s death for the one who killed it.
26. Cat - The target has to be killed 8 more times.
27. Eigengrau - The target loses all memories from the last 24 hours
28. Zoanthrop - Target strips naked. Immune to all mind altering effects.
29. Wizard Hunter - Do you cast spells? You’re FUCKED.
30. Wild Magic Sorcerer - Roll 3 times on the Wild Magic table. All within 60ft radius are affected by the wild magic emanating from the target
31. Unseen Servant - Target turns invisible. Acts upon every command you give to it flawlessly. Limited only by its ability scores (they don’t change). Loses ability to speak or think for itself. Will not be around whenever you wake up from your next period of sleep.
32. Nabassu - target acquires a soul stealing gaze, anyone to look at the target must make a DC 16 Cha saving throw or reduce its maximum hit points by 13 permanently
33. Giant Squid - the target, upon this successful attack and when panicked or fleeing, squirts copious amounts of ink from their eyes, nose and mouth. Mixed with blood because that’s not supposed to happen, 1d8 dmg. with each use
34. Werewolf - the target shreds their outer layer of skin revealing blood soaked fur underneath, taking the form of a werewolf and using a werewolf’s stats, with their skin they also shed any physical and mental conditions
35. Gazer - the target gains the Gazer’s ability to mimic any simple sounds of speech in any language, with the target’s weak eyes it casts Dazing Ray and Fear Ray on itself and collapses into a depressive slump on the floor, screaming in fear in the last voice it heard, unable to flee
36. Virgin - the target becomes the crucial object in the ritual of the nearest carnal, gluttonous, murderous or heretical cult for their petty god, monster or demon of chosen worship. What will their death summon?
37. Nupperibo - the target acquires an insatiable hunger consuming any organic material within reach and easy enough to chew if no living opponent is within 30 ft. If the target attacks or is attacked by a living mortal then it can track that opponent flawlessly as it hungers for its flesh. Greater meals or death will cause it to leave you alone
38. Phoenix - the target explodes and each creature within 60ft must make a DC20 dex save, taking 4d10 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much on a successful one. The explosion destroys the target's body and leaves behind an egg shaped cinder that weighs 5 pounds. The cinder is lukewarm seeing as the target isn’t an actual phoenix. It is not immune to anything seeing as the target isn’t an actual phoenix. After 1d6 days, it hatches into an infant of whatever race the target was.
39. Oblex - target becomes amorphous if it isn’t already. Unfamiliar with it’s new form the target slumps into a pile of ooze unable to move, eat or breathe.
40. Gauth - the target begins to float into the air uncontrollably. With fewer eyes than the Gauth the target is blessed with only Pushing Ray and Sleep Ray, both of which it casts on itself, as it floats snoring into the clouds
41. Bullywug - the target becomes so repulsive that nature itself will reward you for its demise. If or when the target is killed you are healed to your maximum and your Con. increases by 1. It will be difficult though, because the target can talk to frogs and loves lording their power over you and has absolutely no shame. They immediately give themselves a shitty title that means nothing and will love talking about how every swamp ever is theirs to rule. Oh and they fucking reek, if you get within 10ft you’ll vomit automatically and uncontrollably
42. Hivemind - the target’s spinal cord vibrates and emits pheromones to call any swarming creatures (rats, insects, birds, etc.) nearby into a frenzy causing them to fall into chaotic bloodlust and whomever the target chooses
43. Modron - the target loses all mercy and remorse and will fight for their current objective even putting their own lives at risk. The target becomes immune to mind-affecting, emotion-affecting, and magic that draws upon the Positive Energy or the Negative Energy plane. You could quell its pursuit if something with 4 sides or more was able to give orders for it to stop.
44. Obliviax - you must make a con. save (DC 12) or else the target eats your memory of the last 24hrs and heals for d20+4 health. If you fail, you also lose 1 spell slot if you have one to lose and forget 1 spell randomly, if you know any, each for 24 hours. If you save they still heal as all they have to eat are things that you know but forgot you knew, like that play you really liked that one time
45. Strandvaskaren - the target is infected with the soul of one who drowned at sea but the waters preserved him in the inch worm gap between life and death and they float neither alive nor dead. The target feels heavy, cold, lungs weak, aware but able to move. The pressure of uncharted waters sits heavy on their chest and their strength is reduced by half rounded down.
46. Impartial Anima - the target solely relies on a pair of wolf bone dice (or another pair of dice if those go missing) to tell them how to make decisions. 1-10 is a no or negative response. 11-20 is a yes or positive response.
47. Adventuring Party - the target grows a magnificent mustache as steel armor sprouts from their skin and their hands glow with arcane magicks. Their pockets grow fat with religious symbols as a toddler’s diaper would when it’s stomach is upset. Or when it’s angry. Or even flirty. You sense a celestial presence hover over them as they grip their newly found sword and bow they are obviously skilled at using. You thought you had a fair amount of gold to possibly bribe them with but you realize you walk with a lighter step and at their feet your valuable currency lies in a burlap sack
48. Seraphim - the target knows nothing but their own feelings and nothing worth nothing ever came out of a book. The only true things, now, are feelings. Anyone who attempts to attack it must save or hesitate in it’s presence. The environment around the target begins to convert into things beautiful and pure. Roll d4
49. All metal within 50ft turns to gold
50. The target bleeds from sacred stigmata and the blood turns to rose petals as it falls
51. Grows wings and if already winged they are instead, actually, held aloft by a flock of doves
52. They lose their clothing and double in size as their skin turns alabaster white and they wear only a ribbon
53. Animated Barrel - the target attempts to grapple the nearest opponent and once successful begins to throw itself against walls, down stairs and out windows; enjoying the process. The target takes half damage while the opponent grappled takes double.
54. Panther - the target speaks all languages and becomes evil (if not already), honorable and utterly merciless. Will chat up it’s victims or give them a head start before murdering them.
55. Djinn - the target is imprisoned in the nearest vessel and must do their best to fulfill 3 requests for the one who frees them. They are given no additional power to accomplish this.
56. Barnyard Chimera - the target's head bends backwards horrifically making room for it to grow the heads of a cow, pig and goat. It grows the tails of a goose that spews blinding shit. When killed it splits open, spilling out 3d6 featherless, bloody chickens with red eyes and sharp talons. It runs on malformed horse legs speaking but only repetitious mindless phrases. "How about that weather, huh?" "Well, let's finish up and then have supper." "Aw hell, she's coming out breech."
57. Psychopomp - the target will become a guide/beacon for one of the hostile souls devoured by The Imperator Scum resurrecting it and freeing it from the trident.
58. Bell Dragger - the target is imbued with the soul of a wronged martyr. Their eyes go sickly white and they walk on their hands and knees dragging them to bloody stumps. Solely focused on the path to the afterlife, they will forever crawl until they find it. But Bell Draggers are both the summoners and chariot horses for death’s arrival. She will arrive soon.
59. Watch Lark - the target blooms a random amount of additional eyes all across their face above the nose. They can see through thick foliage and thin walls and all attacks have disadvantage on them as they always see you coming. Disadvantage against being blinded.
60. Remorhaz - the target’s stomach bubbles a heated secretion that spills from their mouth. The heat from both their mouth and body is strong enough to melt any nonmagical metals. 2d20 dmg. for every turn spent within 5ft of them. The bile is useful to alchemists in making heat related magical items. The target also becomes highly resistant to magic.
61. Arolohnso, Petty God of Labyrinths - the target using 3 fingers on each hand encircles themself drawing angular, snaking lines in the soil around them. Creating an elaborate maze of which they are the end. The borders drawn become invisible, impenetrable walls that protect them from all things but protect the target of their wrath from nothing. To reach the target, and make them vulnerable, you must draw a line through their maze solving it.
62. White Lion - the target becomes a Queen/King of a fallen kingdom. No serfs nor servants to pretend to care for them. They’re safer now than they’ve ever been (at least from the dangers of someone else’s hands). Their name and legend and royal blood is all lost to a land that has no gods nor masters any longer. Roll for effect:
63. They take their life as all of their worth was found in their property. Either by claw, royal dagger or casting themselves off a cliff or into the ocean, etc.
64. Their crimes as Queen/King are unforgivable and heirs to the wronged will appear behind the target and murder them in cold blood
65. The conquering challenger to their name/bloodline appears and disembowels them splashing you with their old, freshly-poor blood. They are an unpersuadable antagonist and the target is a pathetic remnants of a now dead kingdom
66. You are the new Queen/King. To a country side, people and riches unknown. When you find your kingdom your blood will lead you to wine and fresh fruit. The throne will be warm for your arrival. The target feels their royal blood leave them and they become desperate to drink it fresh from your veins to maintain their deific right. Their hostility is doubled.
67. The Whisperer - Trees whisper. The noise is low, tectonic, incomprehensible. Dial tone static bleeding through the vines of the deepest holts and groves. Spirits dance and gather around antler crowned gods who rule the brazen forest. Soft sounds bloom to life. Elves who hear this music sing to it wringing melodies from the resonances of the treesong. The target collapses into a sobbing heap. They are being wrung dry (poetically) from the beauty of the woodsong. When you’ve obtained comprehension of such extravagant, egoless harmonies what petty life squabble is worth donating your energy towards? The target cares not for your childish conflict any longer. They are possessed by the inability to remember the words to such an old song. One they recognize but do not remember. You can’t help them. They are no ally but no enemy. Pain cures all curses of the mind, though. Do not fetter them with continuing aggression lest you help them lose their place. If so, their hostility will quadruple.
68. Brave Explorer - the target has a distaste for the beaten path. So much so that it is unable to repeat any action, starting from this effect, becoming more and more unpredictable over time.
69. Leper - the target’s flesh becomes warped and scaly becoming an offense to your gaze. You can barely look upon them without vomiting on yourself. Unwilling to project your bile in any direction less it crosses your gaze once more. The Target gains expertise on stealth checks both active and passive. DC 14 Con save to resist puking at the sight of them. Once you succeed a check, remain immune to their image for 24 hrs.
70. Antithetical Spirit - the target’s emotional attachment for the world and its inhabitants become reversed to their present disposition. Do they hate you? Now they love you. Do they want to kill you? Now they want to fuck you. Do they want to eliminate everything you love and make you watch? Now they will kill everything you love in tribute to your limitless beauty and knowledge. Careful how you treat people.
71. Chadwick - the target is just...un-fucking-bearable to listen to. When they say your name it feels dirty afterwards and you just want to wash your parent’s mouths after the fact. They go on about bird calls as if they don’t have to take a breath to keep going. The target becomes an energy vampire and drains you of any optimism you have for the day and all you want is for this goon to go back to their home to watch the paint dry and not inform you of the oxygen reacting to the resin causing polymerisation of the paint leading to it’s lack of sheen once it’s settled. The rage in you is that equal to a Berserker and you gain the Frenzy trait. But you also suffer the effects of the Slow spell until you save on a Wis DC 15 at the start of your turn or kill the target.
72. Johann Smiff - the target immediately becomes a stranger to you and anyone who can see them. Their face and identity are so familiar and on the tip of your tongue but sooner to become dismissed as deja vu then remembered. They know who they are. But they are a face in the crowd before anything else to you. The one you knew them to be still exists in your mind but it is certainly not the target. The effect will wear off after the next long rest.
73. Bay Dolphin - saltwater, freshwater, the target can breathe in either and requires one or the other to do so at all. The target remains highly intelligent, as dolphins are, and retains it’s motor skills and muscle memory. The target will rush to find itself a suitable environment to be able to breathe once more, as a blowhole begins to peer open upon their scalp, but will be able to do so without panic for several minutes. Once they get into the water their constitution and dexterity both become 20 and they are immune to fear.
74. Atticus Aurelius - the target is imbued with the soul of a famed gladiator from several eras passed. Skilled with any weapon as Atticus was, the target becomes proficient with all physical weapons (improvised or not). Able to command the applause of an audience at the drop of his helmet. If a crowd surrounds you (of any humanoid, undead/constructs or not) the target can command them to boo you and your allies causing you to suffer from the effects of Bane. Or they may cheer the target applying the effects of Bless. No saves. If the audience is unsatisfied at a poor showing or cheating habits their boos and riot will suppress you further applying the effects of Slow. Put on an absolute banger of a show with flourish and skill and their cheers will apply the effects of Haste. No saves.
75. Jäegerjog - the target’s soul becomes the one born to die at your hand. Sewn into the never ending tapestry of time it is their fate to perish by your influence alone. They know it though you may not. They also know everything about you and they have advantage against you in every aspect as you suffer disadvantage in every reflective aspect. They also can’t be killed by anyone but you.
76. Dracolich - the target becomes an unwilling phylactery of an ancient Dracolich. Watch the skies…
77. Rook - the target and all who can see them become one within The Parliament. Each individual is now on trial and must provide a story to be judged by their peers. As the anecdotes unfold more and more blackbirds will arrive and encircle the lot of you to listen in. At the DM’s discretion the one who told the least captivating tale will be pecked to death by the encircling birds, and attacked by any affected N/PC, for 15d10 dmg before they flutter off. No save can be made less you reveal yourself as an outsider and ally yourself with the guilty. (WIS DC 14 for the most rebellious of you). Any shiny trinkets you can throw within the circle will decrease the DC by 1.
78. Nymph - the target becomes a beacon of inequitable beauty. Their form becomes statuesque to each individual who gaze upon them. Their desire to fight dissipates and they become concerned only with judging others for their beauty. Weak in the knees to the target’s newly bestowed sex appeal, you unwillingly confess to them which part of yourself you hate the most. Confused by their Nymph aura, though they are none. Whoever they take pity on most reduces their CHA score by 1. The target then runs away, believing the mere presence of such filthy, struggling adventurers despoils their presence just by being near. The air of death and rot on you is more present than it’s ever been. You cannot help but stay on your knees as you watch them flee. You are free from their hold once they leave your sight.
79. Übermensch - the target can perform any action perfectly with mathematical efficiency. Consider every one of their ability scores and rolls a 20 without the proficiency modifier. The target lacks heart and chaos in their soul from this point forward. They can execute all required of them perfectly. There is no surprise in their execution. They will always perform at maximum potential except in the dealings of art. They can be taught, certainly, but without thorough guidance all of their CHA rolls equate to zero regardless of modifiers.
80. Star-Crossed Lover - a soul torn asunder, the target becomes one half of a harmonious pairing that will bring light and love into this world. A larger piece of the puzzle than you are at this moment. The union of the target and their mysterious lover are victims, but vital players, in a blood feud. Their death(s) will shift the tide in a grand conflict unseen...
81. Woodland Eidolon - the target's eyes become ovaled and protrude subtly from their head as a nervous fawn’s would. Their skin molts and grows fine ivory hairs as they shiver and freeze. Unblinking. Shallow sharp breaths. A spirit of the woods stands before you and you have the span of a blink to claim your kill or else they are lost to legends told around the campfire once more. Their DEX Skill becomes 20 and all DEX checks and saves are criticals made with advantage. They can outrun your magical influence and know when you’re going to act before you do. But….if the stars are aligned and you land the killing blow (any successful attack is a killing blow)...their trophy will bring you gifts of which you only dreamed
82. Antlers - netted in a spider’s web wet with morning dew, the glistening beads and weave act as a dream catcher for the most malicious nightmares protecting you from magical influence as you sleep
83. Pelt - it warms you as a campfire would and as long as you are blanketed by it you are immune to cold and your health regenerates for 4 for every round of combat it’s equipped
84. Horn - left lying in the dirt it is a sign of something terrible and conquering walking the grounds, an obelisk of bone that prevents predators and ambushes alike within a mile radius. But if you are caught carrying it you are seen as a dishonorable scavenger and your name will be besmirched within the wilds. The pheromones from it act as a subtle aphrodisiac amongst humanoids (not including undead/constructs) and you have prof. in CHA checks
85. Scrimshaw - an ivory tusk from a Mother Walvis decorated with a sailor’s tale of his time on the seas. The carvings are half finished leaving most of the tusk bare. All stories have an ending and this sailor’s is now yours to tell. This tusk will bring you a boat when you have none. All you must do is find shore. It will also allow you to hold your breath for up to an hour.
86. Broken Night - the target becomes bored by all they know well. Any extraordinary item they have on their person that they are well acquainted with will equal the value of trash immediately. If they know you well, then their pursuit of you, or risk thereof diminishes entirely. They will respond to threats accordingly but otherwise would prefer something strange and rare to busy themselves. Especially if it is of a teasing nature. If they hold something of interest to you then they are always willing to trade for a more interesting object. Or even a story perhaps.
87. Neogi - A Neogi can smother a weak mind with some ease. The target’s mind becomes weak. Prey for any who have the ambition to use it for their own bidding until the body collapses. The target becomes cowardice prey. If so inclined, you’re welcome to impose your will upon them. Though so can everyone else. The blank-canvas-welcome of their mindscape has too much potential to pass up. Greedy minds can sniff out the glove-fit of their embryonic potential like a shark for blood. Who says no to a soft body that asks for it?

Hello! I am trying to find out if anyone else experiences this and what it might be. As a child I have always struggled with learning. Everyone has always said I was a slow learner and I was often held back in classes. I was also held back in 1st grade.
All my life I always tell people I struggle with learning and is a constant battle even as an adult. I feel like I definitely have a learning disability. What makes my situation more confusing is I also have trauma and I have been tested with Quiet Borderline. However my learning struggles happened before most of my childhood trauma. It makes doing new things always a struggle for me and I often avoid it. Trying to explain to people who usually don’t understand is even harder.
I have struggled since I was little with learning and it has affected my grades in education, jobs, and anything where there is “instructions”. I am not sure if it is just slow processing. I have bounced many jobs and have been mistreated because of it. This has greatly affected my self esteem. I feel like I could do anything anyone else does but it’s like there’s a block that keeps me from getting to the same place as others at the same rate. Now I officially want to get diagnosed with something.
I struggle with learning mainly new environment or new environments. I struggle to understand new directions. I am a slow reader and struggle to learn out of order. I struggle with spatial organizing. I really struggle with short term memory for verbal instructions or even visual but I’m more likely to remember visual things. I struggle with getting to the same place at the same time as others.
I have trouble seeing anything in many lines, rows, or things in random unorganized places. However once I learn something I don’t forget it. Once I learn something I can perform it almost normal but sometimes feel like mainly instructions is a slow processing speed. Sometimes I know what is being said to me but I struggle to put that into action way less faster than others particularly if I don’t know what’s expected or asked. So I have often lost opportunities because of how I learn.
A lot of people have called me stupid, slow, lazy, incompetent, not listening, day dreaming, don’t take initiative; and with drawn. I have been mistreated on jobs for it. I have a lot to fear applying for even jobs I know I am capable of because I know that the training is really hard and stressful. It is always a mix of my learning plus how people respond to my learning. I have bounced from jobs. I know I can do what everyone else does but I just learn differently; however jobs don’t have the time to accommodate for me.
I tend to struggle in classes or jobs where the instruction is either not clear, not in order, especially jobs that where there’s a difference trainer and they all train a different way. I’ve had people call me autistic however I don’t relate at all to anyone I’ve talked to who has it. It’s partly because I can read everyone’s facial expressions and I’m super in-tuned to emotions however as if my eyes are a sponge of information but my brain is in a cloud and not processing the instructions given. I can read , see subtle emotions as well as social cues. My body just respond to what I know or see at the same rate. I am bad at grammar, can’t do word problems for my life and would intentionally skip them, and struggled reading unorganized phrases or abstract sentences such as many science books had.
I did get tested once in college . I didn’t test with anything but I did test for having Add and my wrist strength was very unusual low as well as one side of my body on this finger / hand test, is much slower then the other. I never got properly tested as a child. I know some if it could be due to add as my attention and lack of organizating are effected some but a lot of the times I dissociate because I can’t understand what someone’s showing me anyways. During college I had my brain tested for damage which they didn’t find however the scans only tested for like three things for medical diagnosis. I find dissociating or day dreaming is how I cope with boredom and anxiety.
I think what makes learning worst is feeling like I either have a learning disability plus quiet bpd , so often all my life and it’s gotten worse is when I’m learning new information my head just goes into fight and flight mode. I just mentally don’t retain anything. It’s as if my brain blacked out as if your in a movie where you see everything moving and you know exactly what’s happening but your frozen. Have you ever seen those movies where everything is still but you’re moving or you’re frozen but everything is moving. Dissociation is the first thing I do when I’m stressed. Due to both my unknown learning disability and quiet bpd , they almost co mingle that sometimes I can’t distinguish which is trauma or lack of education or my learning disability that is unknown. However I am sure I have one.
I have had trouble learning before my trauma or educational gap really existed. Fractions are harder for me and geometry was impossible. However once I learn most things in a consistent order, I’m completely fine. Most people think I’m normal just shy until interacting or teaching me something.
If anyone read this far, thank you. I know it's a lot. But i'm just feeling defeated and hopeless.

Hello! I am trying to find out if anyone else experiences this and what it might be. As a child I have always struggled with learning. Everyone has always said I was a slow learner and I was often held back in classes. I was also held back in 1st grade.
All my life I always tell people I struggle with learning and is a constant battle even as an adult. I feel like I definitely have a learning disability. What makes my situation more confusing is I also have trauma and I have been tested with Quiet Borderline. However my learning struggles happened before most of my childhood trauma. It makes doing new things always a struggle for me and I often avoid it. Trying to explain to people who usually don’t understand is even harder.
I have struggled since I was little with learning and it has affected my grades in education, jobs, and anything where there is “instructions”. I am not sure if it is just slow processing. I have bounced many jobs and have been mistreated because of it. This has greatly affected my self esteem. I feel like I could do anything anyone else does but it’s like there’s a block that keeps me from getting to the same place as others at the same rate. Now I officially want to get diagnosed with something.
I struggle with learning mainly new environment or new environments. I struggle to understand new directions. I am a slow reader and struggle to learn out of order. I struggle with spatial organizing. I really struggle with short term memory for verbal instructions or even visual but I’m more likely to remember visual things. I struggle with getting to the same place at the same time as others.
I have trouble seeing anything in many lines, rows, or things in random unorganized places. However once I learn something I don’t forget it. Once I learn something I can perform it almost normal but sometimes feel like mainly instructions is a slow processing speed. Sometimes I know what is being said to me but I struggle to put that into action way less faster than others particularly if I don’t know what’s expected or asked. So I have often lost opportunities because of how I learn.
A lot of people have called me stupid, slow, lazy, incompetent, not listening, day dreaming, don’t take initiative; and with drawn. I have been mistreated on jobs for it. I have a lot to fear applying for even jobs I know I am capable of because I know that the training is really hard and stressful. It is always a mix of my learning plus how people respond to my learning. I have bounced from jobs. I know I can do what everyone else does but I just learn differently; however jobs don’t have the time to accommodate for me.
I tend to struggle in classes or jobs where the instruction is either not clear, not in order, especially jobs that where there’s a difference trainer and they all train a different way. I’ve had people call me autistic however I don’t relate at all to anyone I’ve talked to who has it. It’s partly because I can read everyone’s facial expressions and I’m super in-tuned to emotions however as if my eyes are a sponge of information but my brain is in a cloud and not processing the instructions given. I can read , see subtle emotions as well as social cues. My body just respond to what I know or see at the same rate. I am bad at grammar, can’t do word problems for my life and would intentionally skip them, and struggled reading unorganized phrases or abstract sentences such as many science books had.
I did get tested once in college . I didn’t test with anything but I did test for having Add and my wrist strength was very unusual low as well as one side of my body on this finger / hand test, is much slower then the other. I never got properly tested as a child. I know some if it could be due to add as my attention and lack of organizating are effected some but a lot of the times I dissociate because I can’t understand what someone’s showing me anyways. During college I had my brain tested for damage which they didn’t find however the scans only tested for like three things for medical diagnosis. I find dissociating or day dreaming is how I cope with boredom and anxiety.
I think what makes learning worst is feeling like I either have a learning disability plus quiet bpd , so often all my life and it’s gotten worse is when I’m learning new information my head just goes into fight and flight mode. I just mentally don’t retain anything. It’s as if my brain blacked out as if your in a movie where you see everything moving and you know exactly what’s happening but your frozen. Have you ever seen those movies where everything is still but you’re moving or you’re frozen but everything is moving. Dissociation is the first thing I do when I’m stressed. Due to both my unknown learning disability and quiet bpd , they almost co mingle that sometimes I can’t distinguish which is trauma or lack of education or my learning disability that is unknown. However I am sure I have one.
I have had trouble learning before my trauma or educational gap really existed. Fractions are harder for me and geometry was impossible. However once I learn most things in a consistent order, I’m completely fine. Most people think I’m normal just shy until interacting or teaching me something.
If anyone read this far, thank you. I know it's a lot. But i'm just feeling defeated and hopeless.

• Timestamp is HERE / Tagged Photos Below!
  
• Paypal F&F since Vouched & Bundle Deals get Priority!
  
• All Items Include FREE Shipping! Tracking by Tues!
  
• Click HERE to see Vouches (Sort by New)! 1650+ Items Sold!
  
• Measurements in Imgur! Jewelry is lead-tested!
  

 

Clothes:

 
$9 - Retail LOVE Uniq1o x MoMA Art Tee - Small - Retailed for $30. Amazing design and lightly worn.
 
$36 - He11star Biker Tour Vintage Tee - Fits Medium - Sells for a crazy $140 at retail, rep is pretty much on point to retail. Worn once.
 
$65 - Retail K1th Cream Logo Tee - Fits Boxy Medium - Retailed for 89 with taxes and fees IIRC and was the last in stock at the K1th store in Hawaii. Take for an absolute steal.
 
$32 - Suprem3 Box Logo Black on Black - Medium (Fits Small-Fitted Medium) - Used quite a few times but still in amazing condition. Blank has slight fading to it which it on point with retail as it was released a few years back, print in pristine condition.
 
$67 - St0ne Isl@nd Olive Ghost Crewneck - Bu$ystone - Fits Large - Exactly on par with retail down to tags. Best batch out from BS as TS dosen’t offer this model. Inside is extremely plush and it such a comfy crewneck. Has tonal badge and tags on point as well.
 
$35 - N1ke Vintage Cream Crewneck - Fits Medium- Lightly worn and high-quality rep. Almost certain from Ambition, take for a steal.
 
$35 - F3ar of G0d Essentia1s Longsleeve Polo Gray - Fits Small-Medium - Bought used and fits amazing. Exactly on point with my retail and I can’t tell any difference between both.
 
$29 - Retail N1ke Dri-Fit Black Spellout Sweater - XL (Fits Large) Length 26 / Width 24. - Paid 60 for this at outlets. Has Dri-Fit material and was only washed/ tried on once. In like new condition and take for a steal.
 
$52 - Vuj@ De Carpenter Olive Pants - Fits Small (Waist Size 28-32) - Only tried on. Quality is amazing and fit is similar to straight fitting pants.
 
$29 - EE Blue Floral Stripe Shorts - Fits XS-S - Has correct perforations on logo and nice/light blank for summer weather. Would be keeping but too small on me, perfect for Size 28-30 waists.
 
$42 - Essentia1s Tan Joggers - Small (Waist Size 30) - High quality batch but too small on me. Print and embroidered logo on front are pristine and blank is on point with retail.
 
$82 - B0ttega Ven3tta Black Zip-Up Jacket - Fits Boxy Medium - Got professionally tailored as sleeves were way to long (pause) for formal wear. Such a beautiful jacket but I got a similar one from Uniql0 that I wear more often. Take for a steal.
 
$58 - Y33zy “Ye Must be Born again” Brown Hoodie - Fits Boxy Medium - Sizing similar to retai land puff print is in amazing condition with slight fading from couple of wears. Always gets lots of eyes and extremely comfy hoodie. Stitched out hoodie sizing cause it said XL when this fits more like a medium.
 
$49 - Y33zy Calabasa$ Agoura Black/Grey Sweatpants - Fits Small (Waist Size 30) - Blank similar to retail and embroidery is high quality. Honestly can’t tell a difference between this and retail.
 
$66 - Pa1ace Arms Blue/White Jacket - Fits Small-Medium - Best batch out and was released a few years back. Has been in closet for a while but time to let go, unsure if it’s from Pa1ace37 or not. Insane quality and great for everyday wear.
 
$75 - 424 Denim Fairfax Distressed Jacket - Medium - Best batch out and only tried on. Rare rep from a haul I did a few years back and link is now dead. No red sleeve.
 
$19 - Balenc1aga Rainbow Tee from Cl0yad - Fits Small - From Cloyad who’s a top-tier reseller. Never been worn personally but seems lightly used.
 
$9 - Retail D0ckers Straight Fit Pants Grey - 32x29 - Paid $40 and quality is amazing. Have nice straight fit to drape slightly over your shoes and I would’ve 100% kept if I didn’t outgrow them.
 
$19 - Retail Vintage Chevy Walts Kings Men 1993 Tee - Fits Large - Thrifted and few imperfections (pictured) which might come out in wash. Take for a steal, can’t find comps on eBay.
 
$15 - Retai1 Vintage Buzzie Nascar Racing Tee - Fits Medium - Thrifted and used only a few times.
 
$25 - Retail Pepsi Cola Timeless Tee 1993 Tee - Large - Bought from Consignment Shop and in great condition, just had tags removed and some slight aging as it’s an older shirt. Take for a steal.
 
$79 (FINAL SALE) - Y33ZY Season 5 Lost Hills Sports Jacket - Fits Medium - In like new condition and extremely rare rep from 2019, haven't seen one posted since. I have rarely used and I’m not in a rush to sell it cause this is most likely the first and last one that’s going to be posted on here, hence the price.
 
$67 - St0ne Isl@nd Cream Ghost Crewneck - Bu$ystone - Fits Medium-Large - Best batch out from BS as TS dosen’t offer this model. Inside is extremely plush and it such a comfy crewneck. Has tonal badge and tags on point as well.
 
$52 - Br0ken Plan3t “Into the Abyss” Blue Hoodie - Medium - From Hotd0g and one of the nicer designs from this brand IMO. Lightly worn and in amazing condition.
 

Shoes:

 
$75 - Retail Zar@ Black/White Loafers - EU 39 (Fits Size 7.5-8 Mens) - Brand new and never used. The latest product line and retailed for 80 + 20 in taxes and fees. Take for an absolute steal.
 
$85 - N3w Ba1ance 2002R Protection Pack Rain Cloud - TZE - 8.5 Mens - Bought best batch out at the time from TZE. Lightly used and still in amazing condition. Comfort and materials are really nice.
 
$119 OBO - Retail Y-3 x Ad1das 4D Exo Runners - Size 7.5 (Fits 7.5-8.5 Snug Mens) - Listings on eBay around $240 brand new/used. Take for an absolute steal. Lightly used and in amazing condition.
 
$129 OBO - Retail Y-3 x Ad1das Terrex Swift R3 Goretex - 8.5 Mens - Multiple listings on eBay around $230 brand new. Take for an absolute steal. Lightly used and in amazing condition. Has continental bottoms and perfect shoe for outdoors.
 
$79 OBO - Retail Y-3 Ajatu Court Low Black - 8 Mens - Selling for around $166 on StockX. Take for an absolute steal. Lightly used and in amazing condition. Has continental bottoms and perfect shoe for outdoors.
 
$29 - Black/White Penny Lug Loafers - Fits Mens Size 7.5-8 - Used once and in amazing condition. Saw Jeff Goldblum wear similar model and he pulls them off great but too small on me.
 
$23 - Ultraboost$ Oreo 3.0 - 10 Mens (Fits 9-9.5 Mens) - Best batch out from Lin. Used but flash really accentuates flaws, they still have a lot of life.
 
$86 OBO - Retail N1ke Air Max 1 Premium Hangul SE - 8.5 Mens - Brand new and only tried on. Paid 140 for them, take for a steal.
 

Accessories (Wallets/Belt/Bags/Cologne):

 
$13 - Retail T0M Ford “Oud Wood” Cologne Sample - 2ML - Beautiful smell and sprayed a little once just to try. A great way of sampling this beautiful fragrance.
 
$12 - Cart1er Tank Strap from G33ktime - Strap for smallest size of Cartier Tank (I think it’s small?). Nice but I replaced mine, take for a steal.
 
$19 (2 Left!) - Stu$$y Camo Waist Bag - One Size - Brand new with tags. Perfect for fitting phone, wallet, keys, portable charger, and more. Amazing quality and IMO 1:1 with Retail.
 
$34 (2 Left!) - Loui$ Vuitt0n Checkered Brown/Gold Belt - (Adjutable / Waist: 28-34, Includes Belt Hole Puncher for Waist Sizes under 28) - Brand New. 110cm long. Using personal for around 6 months, leather is supple & belt is very durable.
 
$18 - Aap3 Black Wallet - One Size - Brand New with papers and bag.
 

Jewelry (Rings, Pendants, Necklaces, Keychains):

 
$23 - Chr0me Heart$ Pendants - OOS - Brand New & lead tested, have sold many with good reviews. I’ve personally used most models for 6+ months daily along with an Amazon-bought chain. Pendants have nice weight/quality and always get compliments. 925 sterling silver plated and has been used in the gym without issues. Available Models:

• Heart Cross (1 LEFT)
• David Star
• Square Horseshoe

 
$22 - Chr0me Heart$ Silichrome 20th Anniversary Cross Necklace - One Size Fits All (26 Inches) - Great alternative to paying CH’s wild retail price of $160, this rep is extremely accurate IMO (.95:1). Available Colors:

• Black
• Green
• Blue
• Orange
• White

 
$19 - LV Keychain Black Checkered - OOS - Brand new and in plastic wrapping.
 
$19 - LV Keychain Brown Checkered - OOS - Brand new and in plastic wrapping.
 
$19 - Retail Gue$$ Blue/Black Watch - Fits Up to 6.25 Inch Wrists (Has additional clasp to expand to ~6.5 Inches) - Paid 120 shipped for this, take for an absolute steal. Movement is stuck so might need new battery, selling as is.
 
$19 (Add-On) - Culture K1ngs Cap CarrieStorage NFS - OOS - Exclusive item not being sold; need to buy 3 hats to receive. Take at a great price.
 

Beanies/Hats:

 
$38 (1 Left!) - Ga11ery Dept Upside Down Logo Trucker Hat - Adjustable - New with tags. Best batch out. Solid batch
 
$32 (1 Left!) - Balenciag@ Brown Logo Beanie - One Size - Best batch out and deadstock, take for a steal.
 
$28 (2 Left!) - Chrom3 Heart$ “Big CH” Beanie - One Size - Brand new in bag. Very stretchy and breathable to fit most sized heads.
 
$32 - Retail LA Dodgers 9F0rty N3w 3ra Purple Haze A-Frame Hat - Adjustable - Retail and sold out at Cultur3 Kings. Link to retail is HERE. Paid $42 with shipping, just trying to make some money back, take them for $34 with free shipping. Insane quality and has nice Jackie Robinson patch on side.
 
$19 - Canad@ Goos3 Beanies Various Colors - One Size - Brand new with tags. Very stretchy and breathable to fit most sized heads. Models:

• Black/Red
• Grey
• Cream

 
$25 - Retail D0dgers A-Frame Trucker Hat N3w Era - Adjustable - Brand new and never used. I think this is a European exclusive as I see no US sellers have this. Take for a steal price.
 
$19 - Vuj@ De “VD” Black Hat - One Size (Adjustable) - Brand new and never used. Clean embroidery and nice quality blank.
 
$19 - Prad@ Badge Black Hat - One Size (Adjustable) - Brand new and never used. Clean embroidery and compared badge to SurvivalSourc3 keychain and looks 1:1.
 
$19 - Acn3 Studio$ Ice Grey Knit Beanie - One Size - Brand New. Embroidery and quality of beanie are spot on with Retail.

I’m thinking of something along the lines of retribution, but I would use it in the context of “I am this person’s walking (blank)” in the sense that my existence is some sort of karmic punishment for them. I feeeeel it in my bones that there’s a word Im looking for but can’t think of. Please help!

The Ancient Weapons. Supposedly weapons of mass destruction that led the front of the Void Century War, so powerful as to erase an island on a single use and raise the world's water levels by meters. We have over the years received small amounts of information on them, and as of 1117 I believe that we can make a pretty solid guess as to what they do (or can do), and as every piece of fiction is an abstraction of the real world and the author's thoughts, I found it interesting to try and relate the ancient weapons with real world weapons that have been planned and researched over the years... Plus a few bonuses because why not. I'm basically just compiling and resuming dozens of wikipedia articles so feel free to go there to know more.

The Ancient Weapons:

PLUTON

Even though Pluton was revealed first, we know surprisingly little about it compared to the other weapons. That said, we know it is some sort of super ship with considerable power, enough to be thought of as unbeatable by anything other than another Ancient Weapon (which is what led to the preservation of Pluton's blueprints until Franky burned them). This makes it easy to make an educated guess because we do already have something of the sort in the real world, something that Oda "surprisingly" hasn't really used in his story's naval combat. I'm talking about aircraft carriers and their general class of ship. The modern flagship of a modern fleet. Until now, we haven't seen anything beyond battleships in the story.
Fleet with four aircraft carriers.
Now, Aircraft Carriers. They don't translate very well to One Piece, after all they have not discovered planes and that technology -- Pluton could have a fleet of aircraft inside of it but in my opinion that's reaching -- yet. It doesn't need to go that far either.
The biggest publicized aircraft carriers, according to the Wikipedia, are about 320 meters in length or about 1050 something feet on average. The longest one ever being the latest USS Enterprise -- the first ever nuclear powered aircraft carrier inaugurated in 1958 -- which is now decommissioned and the biggest and still active ship being the USS Gerald R. Ford that replaced the Enterprise with its class of ships (the class is named after the lead ship). Through my research, aircraft carriers can be as small as 234,40 meters (769ft) but the aircraft carrier exclusive size, the one where only aircraft carriers have is about 300 meters long (~984 ft) and higher.
USS Gerald R. Ford.
These ships are known for the cream of the crop, and their ability to serve as a hangar for other ships, most commonly aircraft. But that's not all they have in store. general features of an aircraft carrier:

• Arresting GeaLaunch Systems: basically help planes land on and launch from the hangar on the deck of the ship;
• Huge crews are needed to use it, like thousands of people, even with the help of modern automation (like 2017 stuff), the Ford still needs 2600 sailors to operate;
• Missiles: they can launch missiles from it, they're generally there to intercept aircraft and other missiles, generally integrated into the Ship Self-Defense System, which is pretty much what you think it is;
• Advanced radar systems to detect whatever's nearby underwater and above water;
• The cool ones are nuclear powered. Most of the energy goes to Electromagnetic warfare (it isn't railguns, it's taking over the EM waves aka destroying the enemy's communication network and stuff, essential for this type of combat);
• They have stealth technologies in them. In real life it's to make the ship look smaller than it is through detection systems, because there is no making such a huge thing completely invisible;
• The ability to carry a lot of aircraft. Gerry Ford can carry up to 90 airships, and they're not puny aircraft, it's the stuff that can do stuff;
• Versatility: having what is ostensibly a moving island allows for a lot more than just war. Diplomacy (mostly intimidation diplomacy), transport, humanitarian aid are all on the table;
• These ships were built to be fast, as fast as they can be of course. Gerry reaches 30 knots (56km/h or 35 mph) and you really don't want to know how much force that is, considering a carrier displaces 100000 tons of water to be afloat (that's a lot);

Possible considered upgrades to modern aircraft carriers (technology discovered or made efficient after the ships were built) include:

• Electric Armor: it's a new type of reactive armor, before we used explosives to dissipate kinetic impacts but now we could make the hull a huge isolated capacitor that will deflect and vaporize whatever tries to penetrate the ship into doing less damage. Basically, you shoot it and the bullet is shot back and evaporate mid flight instead of completing its trajectory;
• Free-electron laser: Real life laser beams made through fancy science. No they don't do a tenth of what you think it does, it's thought to be used to scramble missile and aircraft systems by sending waves of radiation at them (not X-ray radiation necessarily, the broader definition), basically breaking frying the hardware in them.

Besides that, there are also types of aircraft carriers like escort carriers, amphibious assault ships, anti-submarine warfare carriers and more that are specialized on other things.
USS Iwo Jima, an Amphibious Assault Ship type Aircraft Carrier.
What does this all mean?
This means that if Pluton is indeed inspired on an aircraft carrier, you can expect something with the qualities I described like carrying aircraft could be carrying other regular ships instead; the island of the ship could actually be an island; it could shoot missiles instead of cannonballs or lasers; it could have a robot crew operating it (like those in Enel's cover story) or a super autonomous klabautermann; it could have built-in detection systems for Sea Kings, ships and people; it could make Den Den Mushi useless like the EM wave stuff does to comms; be powered by the mother flame if nuclear power is analogous to it... These are things that you can expect coming from the weapon when it is fully unveiled.

POSEIDON

Poseidon is a living person, and she commands Sea Kings. It is the ancient weapon we probably know the most about. It is also the one that is a bit weird to translate to a real world weapon as Sea Kings and sea creatures, alive and stuff. We don't have a fleet of secret specially trained Dolphins or something irl... probably.
A classic panel, legendary even, showcasing the Sea Kings in their nest in the Calm Belt.
Still! There is a type of vehicle that is pretty much the king of sea warfare, and a type of soldier that works well with it. Poseidon can be a mixture of Nuclear Submarines, Shock Troopers, Frogmen and Commandos.
Nuclear submarine, and people on it!
Sea Kings are known to be very hard to detect underwater, and to be able to cause a lot of damage to a regular or unprepared ship. Sea Kings also grow in both size and intelligence with time, making these older Sea Kings powerful and smart chess pieces.
Nuclear submarines are made to be stealthy and to hold a lot of power with their torpedoes and missiles. They go undetected and strike critical hits on the enemy's fleet multiple times if possible. They can also allow for the infiltration into the enemy line, and advanced espionage. The fact they use nuclear power allows them to stay way more time deployed than a regular one that uses conventional fuel. Thankfully when it comes to features submarines like those are way simpler, not that they're not effective, they're very effective.
Another thing is that Nuclear Submarine CAN be armed with nuclear weapons. I don't know how that would translate to a Sea King.
Shock Troops are special troops made to lead an attack on the enemy. Hit first and hit hard, Commandos are special units that go behind the enemy line to do critical missions and Frogmen are combat swimmers that specialize in doing underwater combat, recon, tactical stuff.
a Frogman underwater.
They may even be able to influence ocean currents in some way, a virtue of their number and size. Poseidon is in a way simpler to interpret and understand than the other two, but it doesn't need it. Such a huge marine force can do a LOT in a world mostly made of islands.

URANUS

The newest one to be teased and the first one we got to see working! From high above it strikes dozens and dozens of strikes, each a beam of apparent red light that razes the target until all that remains is a huge hole in the sea. It is confirmed to lead to a rise in sea levels!
The Lulusia Kingdom never... existed.
The first thing that comes to mind to a visual reader is a Laser Weapon, in real life they aren't all that crazy but fiction is different. DragonFire is a new weapon that is being developed by the British and is said to be used in their Royal Navy by 2027, Laser Defense Systems like the Israeli Iron Beam also come to mind. No doubt military all over the world are researching the possibility of making a super laser pointer to stop anything electronic that comes nearby, sadly, the melting/ vaporizing beam or even Cyclops "Punch Force" beams are not realistic. Laser technology is being developed as we speak and systems that allow for a reasonable charging and firing of a beam is in our futures, only that they'll stop missiles and drones and stuff, probably blind a bird or a pilot maybe. It takes too long for a laser to heat up something for a combat application like the ones in our dreams, it'll remain a thing of the future for a while. Nothing of that spy movie satellite laser stuff (at least not with lasers).
DragonFire being tested.
The first thing that comes to mind to a contextual reader is the Thermonuclear Weapon, a Nuke, I don't need to explain about nukes, everyone knows what it can do and how it gets there and stuff. Nowadays a nation can launch one of those bombs in a missile from strategically placed military bases that have been planned for the best mutual destruction possible. You can always put one in a plane and drop it or in the previously mentioned Nuclear Submarine. They're way more powerful than those infamous nuclear bombs from WW2, they're Hydrogen Bombs now, optimized nuclear fission made to instigate a chain reaction with the most available particle in the surface of Earth. It basically gets the air itself to release energy.
Now comes the fun part to me, finding other weapons besides the most obvious that could've been integrated into the design of Uranus. I'll make a list:

• MARAUDER: The Magnetically Accelerated Ring to Achieve Ultra-high Directed Energy and Radiation was a project for a plasma railgun. Launching a few miligrams of plasma at super high speeds and heat. it is said that these projectiles could reach 3% of the speed of light, and that these small projectiles could hold 5 pounds of TNT worth of energy. It obviously released a lot of kinetic and thermal energy on impact. It had an added bonus of scrambling electronics on contact. This project was a 90s thing, and doesn't exist anymore (the launcher was probably too bulky and costly for what could be substituted by 5 pounds of TNT in a mortar)
  
• Howitzer: A mix between a cannon and a mortar. It launches mostly explosive projectiles super high up, and they hit their targets on their fall, allowing them to be sent super far too. A bit of math makes it a staple of modern bombardment technology with precision;
  

an M777 type Howitzer

• Bombers: a type of plane that instead of shooting a bomb in a huge arc trajectory from the ground, simply decided to drop it right above the enemy's head in a smaller arc trajectory, even a straight trajectory in the right perspective;
• Kinetic Orbital Strikes: it has various names, "Thor", "The Rods from God", "Hypervelocity Rod Bundles"... It all is the same thing pretty much, just go up to space with some very heavy rods, make the rocket/satellite/whatever go to the target, and drop those extremely heavy rods on them from space, bonus if you attach a turbine to the back. It's actually quite effective, as simple as it is. You can also do it by launching it like a missile. A few tungsten rods at high speeds are basically a meteor strike. People don't really do this because precision is bad with all the interference of the atmosphere and the elements and bringing a bunch of very heavy metal rods up to space is costly, more costly than just launching the equivalent amount of TNT through a howitzer. There are advantages though, it's very hard to defend against a metal rod falling down at Mach 10, its 11 tons of TNT on impact (which is cheaper to launch than doing all this);

fictional image of what it could be. It's a proven concept but not practical irl at all.

• Sun Gun: it's theoretical, but I thought to put it here. If you've ever heard of Archimedes' heat ray, this is a turbo version of that. Put a very good and specialized mirror on a satellite, and burn whatever you aim at like those children that found out a focusing lens can burn stuff from space. Can also be made with a ton of not as awesome reflectors scattered around focusing on the same place. It can boil oceans and burn cities theoretically. I believe that the development of this one was stopped by one of the treaties, looks like more environmental damage than necessary;
• FOBS: Fractional Orbital Bombardment System: Imagine what the Kinetic Orbital Strike does, but instead of heavy metal it's conventional or nukes. That's it. They can't do it directly from space like a KOS because of treaties but they have a system to accurately launch a nuke from their sites to pretty much anywhere relevant in the world. It's a huge political thing, gives a lot of intimidation power and these FOBS are like a loophole in the treaties that lets nations have a nuke at standby;

how a FOBS works. it launches and evades the usual north facing radars.
That's pretty much it. From what we know, whatever it was based on, it needs to move to be over the target and needs Mother Flame to work. It looks like a laser and it completely erases an island to an incredible depth.

BONUS:

• SMILEY(H2S and SHINOKUNI): A living chemical weapon. H2S is Hydrogen Sulfide (H2S, a real chemical that well, acts as the regular chemical weapon, has the smell of rotten egg and does pretty much everything it is shown in the anime. Shinokuni has a resemblance to a volcanic eruption, without the heat and intensity, covering everything in a layer of solid stuff. Difference is, it leads to a slow death to poison instead of what the people at Pompeii went through;

Shinokuni in action. You can look up Pompeii's \"statues\" yourself.

• NHC10: A highly addictive drug, used to control the children in Punk Hazard. It is how addiction is in real life, and how weaponizing it would work if it wasn't out of the picture and impractical;
• RAIN POWDER: Classic Weather Manipulation. Such practices have long been banned for malicious purposes, but it is possible to seed clouds for example. Silver Iodide is a known chemical that when powdered onto clouds will cause them to gather and eventually rain down. It is Rain Powder in real life;
• MH5: Another Chemical Weapon, used by illustrious pirate Don Krieg;
• DEATHPIEA/RAIGO: Curiously, Enel razing an island is very possible the way he did it. That's because the islands he razed were made of clouds and those are indeed susceptible to the huge electromagnetic blast he concocted. Of course, real earth wouldn't dissipate from it but his powers are indeed dangerous in a cloud layer like that of Skypiea;
• BUSTER CALL: Classical bombardment, used a long time ago, still used now. Just blow up a place until it is gone;
• JACK OF THE DROUGHT: Jack is known to cause destruction wherever the goes. That destruction has earned him the nickname of The Drought, as he not only wrecks the place he also leaves it infertile. Doing such things is not a thing you do normally in war, as you generally use the resources conquered to conquer more resources. Russia won against Napoleon and the German by doing that, depriving the land of food and water, breaking homes as they ran further into their territory and letting the cold environment and basic necessities suck the opponent dry, making the opponent too feeble to win. If only regular people were taken into consideration when poisoning the water supply and razing wheat fields;
• KAIDO OF THE BEASTS/MARS: They can shoot extremely destructive lasers. That's more than a lot of weapons;
• SATURN: His stun power resembles a concussive grenade or a stun grenade, as he can immobilize people in an area around him.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.