Labral shoulder cpt tear

Memory transcription subject: Sare, Yotul Rebuilder Date [standardized human time]: January 31st, 2136
I pulled the hoodie tighter around myself. It had only gotten colder over the past few days; I’d taken multiple chances to thank Gavin for his gift. Every time I passed the human, I saw a grin spread across his face, and I felt something flutter in my stomach. I managed to keep myself composed enough as he joined me in the vegan line once again.
“You actually like this stuff?” I asked. I gestured to the rest of the extraterrestrials in the line. “I don’t think any of us do.”
He shrugged. “It’s different, at least. Two months of ham and cheese sandwiches does something to a man.”
I stared at him for a moment. He looked at me with a soft gaze and a slight smile, and I found myself admiring his eyes and the way his beanie-formed hair draped over them. His expression morphed to confusion, however, and he waved his hand at me.
“Earth to Sare? Are you… looking for something?”
I realized I’d just been standing there staring for a solid twenty seconds and I flushed deep green, pulling my scarf over my face. “I- uh, I’m alright, yeah! I’m just-” I wove my paws around futilely as if I could speak with them. I gestured for Gavin to move ahead of me in the line, and he let out a small laugh as he walked past to pick up his meal. I followed shortly behind him, my face burning.
Today’s meal was some emulation of venlil cuisine. It was… alright, for something made by non-venlil chefs, but I’d had better in Earth’s vegan food. Gavin, however, seemed pretty excited by it.
“As long as I’ve worked here, I haven’t had much alien food.” He took a bite from his meal and continued speaking as he chewed. “Not bad. I think I prefer yotul food, though,” he said, musing as he looked off into the distance.
I piped up excitedly at that. “I could make you something!”
“You can?” he asked, genuine intrigue in his voice. “What could you do?”
Shit.
There really wasn’t a lot of even human food available to cook with, let alone imports from Leirn that I was familiar with, but I felt like I needed to repay Gavin with something, at least.
“Uh-, well, there’s a type of salad back home I might be able to make with stuff here. Um… I don’t think it’d be very good, but-”
“Ah, don’t worry about that. Anything handmade is great if you put your heart into it,” he said, his tone reassuring and a smile on his face. I absentmindedly fiddled with the drawstrings of my hoodie as he took a few more bites from his lunch; a few moments passed before he looked at me and flushed a bit, then quickly finished his meal. I stared off into the distance, nothing in particular on my mind as I ate, but I saw Gavin hurry off to the administrator’s office. I downed my food and followed him with a brisk walk.
“What’s the rush?”
He looked me over for a moment before letting out a breath I couldn’t tell he was holding. “There’s still a lot of work to do today, y’know? It’s going to be cold tonight, and besides, it’s New Year’s Eve. I gotta get my work done quick so I have tonight free.”
We both paused for a moment. “What do humans do for the new year?” I asked.
“Normally, the tradition is to set off a bunch of fireworks- oh, those are like little explosive things-”
“There’s some great firework shows on Leirn,” I explained. “We’ve got ‘em too.” I could show you some hung on the tip of my tongue, something I deeply wanted to say but held myself back on.
“Oh, sweet! Anyway, yeah, that’s the usual thing, plus some typical family gathering and partying, but, uh… I don’t think anybody here could handle fireworks right now,” he continued, his expression trailing into something morose I couldn’t quite read. “But really, first and foremost, it’s about spending time with people you care about.”
“Guess we got that in common, then,” I added. “Where I’m from, it’s summer during the new year, so during the day, we spend time at beaches, usually, sometimes going on trips to somewhere cooler the day before. I’m not religious myself, but followers of Ralchi have a sort of traditional bonfire past sundown for the new year that most people recreate.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Yeah…” I mused. “Haven’t done anything like it in a while, and it’d be nice to spend a night around people I care about again…”
Gavin just looked at me.
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” he said, quickly perking up. “C’mon. We’ve got stuff to do today.”
I nodded, and he led us off down the road to the suburbia we’d been cleaning up the past few weeks. Some other workers from the camp had tagged along; from chats between them, the peacekeepers in charge had directed anyone wanting a lighter day for the new year down this road.
I jogged a bit forward to catch up to Gavin ahead, only slowing my pace as I stepped to his side. He glanced at me for only a moment before offering a hand to hold, which I took. I felt my tail beat against the asphalt below us a few times before I got my heart under control.
“What’re we doing today?” I asked after a comfortable silence.
“Cleanup, mostly. UN wants this place cleared of debris for rebuilding.”
“That sounds… impossible, honestly. There’s just so much wreckage,” I said, a sense of exhaustion already creeping into my voice before we even got to work. I sighed. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
He shrugged. “Even if it’s impossible, why not? Maybe we won’t clean out everything, but we’re still cleaning out something, and that’s better than nothing.”
“I just… I don’t know. How’s it better than nothing if we can barely make a dent in all the garbage?”
“Well, look at it this way. A hundred thousand people used to live here-” he waved his hand in a wide arc over the townscape around us- “-and maybe we’ll never see more than ten grand again. But so what? Even if we only get five thousand people back in these houses, that’s still infinitely better than zero. You know?”
“...Yeah. Yeah, I guess I know.”
Gavin smiled. It was a warm grin, an expression I never wanted to see end, and a smile spread across my own face. “You feeling better?”
“Definitely.”
He put his arm around my shoulder in a quick hug that I reciprocated. “Let’s get going, then.”
Some of the group hung back to direct the debris-moving vehicles down into the deeper wreckage, but most of us, Gavin and myself included, focused on the smaller things; as inconsequential as it was, the light labor and simple repetition of shoveling up garbage felt rather therapeutic.
It didn’t take too long before a sort of pessimism started again. By the time a few hours had passed, my arms ached, my legs felt sore, and while seeing what we’d cleaned was encouraging, it felt dwarfed in the face of the mountains of concrete dust and shattered debris that still coated the town. I sighed, taking a seat on some of the more solid debris, feeling my tail sweep up loose dust. Gavin glanced back at me before setting down his own tools and taking a seat as well.
“This sucks,” he said after a few seconds of odd, semi-comfortable-semi-awkward silence.
“Yeah.”
The human nodded as if we’d just made some as yet unknown revelation, then let out a short laugh. I did, too, my laugh lasting perhaps a bit too long before I felt something crumple and a few tears slipped out of my eyes.
“Still gotta do it, though, y’know?”
I glanced back at him. Afternoon light glinted off the tears forming in his own eyes as he looked at me with a small smile of his own; despite the wetness accumulating on his cheeks, he took the chance to wipe my eyes with warm, gentle hands. I pressed at the tears on his own face and he flinched back, muttering watch the fur under his breath. I snickered a bit at his reaction.
“Still gotta do it,” I said. He nodded in response.
“But you don’t gotta do everything.”
“Yeah. Something’s enough,” he said, his voice trailing off as he looked over the areas we’d cleaned from a tiny portion of the city sprawl. The sound of machinery and the occasional working song echoed off the concrete and asphalt as we watched our comrades work in silence.
Even under the cold of the late day, the something had kept me warm, and before long, we’d reconvened at the headquarters for dinner. Unlike the morning, however, Gavin went for the human food line, and I opted to follow him.
“...Can you even eat this stuff?” he asked, pointing at the (at this point, comedically predictable) ham-and-cheese sandwiches that the cooks were handing out. One of them mirrored his sentiment, cocking their head and looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I… think? We weren’t cured, so it won’t kill me. Probably.”
He shrugged. Two sandwiches came, and he rifled through the bag at his side for an anti-allergy injector. “Don’t be stupid,” he said, tucking it into his pocket for quick access.
“This whole idea is pretty stupid,” I commented.
“Be… only a little bit stupid.”
We laughed as we sat down. I set my sandwich down and watched Gavin pick up his and take a bite, staring at him in fascination before realizing that this probably wasn’t something to be particularly fascinated by. Still, it was a pretty novel experience, nonetheless; I didn’t eat meat, and for the majority of my time on Earth, any meal time was separated between those who did and those who didn’t.
I took a tentative bite of the sandwich, which, thinking about it in a vacuum, is a rather strange way to think about one’s dinner, but I was certainly nervous in the moment.
“It’s… interesting,” I said, both meat and dairy decidedly unfamiliar tastes to me. The most familiar part was the saltiness, but this felt less like the mild flavor of roasted root vegetables and more like shoving seawater into my mouth. The texture was perhaps the most familiar part, albeit still strange; it reminded me most of Rinsan fiberfruit, but its taste made it surprisingly hard to swallow.
“‘Interesting’ as in… ‘good’?” Gavin asked. “‘Interesting’ as in ‘you’re not experiencing anaphylactic shock right now’?”
“I wouldn’t say good, but I don’t think I’d say bad or trying to kill me either,” I commented after forcing down another bite.
“You don’t have to finish that, you know.”
“I’m committed," I retorted. It wasn’t inedible, at least, and the newness of the experience alone made it worth it.
After washing the flavor down with a copious amount of water, Gavin and I decided to get some rest a bit early; the winter sun had already crept low to the horizon and the work of the day set in. We could squeeze in a few hours of rest before seeing whatever festivities had been set up for the new year. My quarters weren’t too far from the canteen; if nothing else, the UN at least had the resources for all of us to get individual rooms, albeit small ones. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Some indistinct time passed before a small snore woke me up. This wasn’t uncommon, given the thin walls of the pre-fab shacks we slept in, but I craned my head up to a lump on the floor, rather than a particularly loud sleeper elsewhere waking me. It took me a second to resolve it in the dark, but their large stature and ruffled hair meant they were a human, and the guess came naturally: Gavin.
He’d brought his own blankets and made himself a nest on my floor. My half-asleep head thought it wouldn’t be too bad; I bundled up the pillows and blankets from my own bed and tossed them on the floor in a disorganized heap, even worse than Gavin’s pile, and dropped onto it. He shuffled, grunted a bit, and turned over on his side, putting a reassuring arm over my shoulders. We both fell back asleep in that comfort almost instantly.
What finally woke us was the sound outside. A general din of activity grew loud enough to make it into my room, and Gavin rose before me, shaking my shoulder to wake me up in turn.
“Think it’s almost time,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched, standing on his feet and reaching the ceiling before offering his hand to pick me up. I took it and he led me by that hand forward, out to the people gathered.
The gathering wasn’t too big, but it was a hearty one, nonetheless. It was a mixture of humans, venlil, yotul, and the occasional other species assisting in the city, gathered in circles around campfires dotting the street and camp we lived in. I pointed one of the fires out; it was ringed by predominantly yotul, and I recognized the new year flame structure familiar to Leirn. One of the yotul there noticed us and waved us over to take seats with them.
Gavin sat near the fire, and I laid over him, my head resting in his lap as the small campfire burned in front of us. A quick glance around showed that we weren’t the only ones inching this close to the fire; my mind flashed back to memories of Leirn, of watching ceremonial bonfires burn and singing songs of home and history, even after the Federation arrived, and I felt myself start to tear up.
I don’t know if Gavin saw, or felt, or even knew at all, but I felt a strong hand rub the side of my head, scratch a bit behind my ears. I flinched a bit on instinct.
Gavin stammered a bit. “Uh- you- um, that alright?”
“...Yeah.”
He resumed, and I felt my eyes gradually flutter closed to the sound of the fire crackling and a breeze blowing, his other arm wrapping around me. The night should’ve been freezing, but I felt the warmth of something stronger than cold wind and a dark night.
There was a brief bit of pressure on the top of my head. I picked myself up and planted a kiss in return on his cheek, laying back in his lap, his arm tightening closer around me. Three short words were all that remained.
“I love you.”

The room was quiet.
No one said a word.
I looked around at their grim faces, and decided to break the silence. "Ares?" I asked. "As in... the god of war?"
"The very one," Apollo acknowledged. "We are doomed."
"Well, actually," Artemis said from the doorway. "He is... just sort of walking around."
Athena lifted her eyebrows, "What? Explain, Sister."
"I do not know how to further explain," said Artemis, adopting a pained expression. "He is not tearing this lodge to shreds as he would if..."
"... If he knew we were here," Athena finished her sentence. "Do you think he hasn't detected us?"
"Impossible," Hephaestus huffed.
"I agree with Hephaestus," Apollo said, leering at the windows on the north side of the room. "Ares can detect us almost anywhere on Olympus. Certainly he can feel us from the other side of this wall, no?"
"Out there?" I asked, gesturing toward the north wall.
Artemis nodded gravely. "Yes. He must be preparing something."
I started toward the window when Apollo jumped in front of me. "Excuse me, are you mad?"
"He wouldn't recognize me," I said, scooting past him. He lifted a hand as if to stop me, but simply looked to Athena for help.
She tilted her head and shrugged, "He has a point. We're all finished anyway. What could it hurt?"
I stood at the window and peered out at the people gathered around the fountain. There was a taller than average man in gleaming golden armor standing among them. His donned a crimson cape that blew in the breeze— he was a magnificent sight to behold. It was as though his very being was shimmering-shiny.
"He's... asking people questions," I narrated. "He's the guy in the golden armor right?"
"Yes," came Artemis's voice next to me. "If he is speaking, I may be able to hear him if I sharpen my focus. I am good at this. Everyone, please remain quiet." She knelt down, closed her eyes, and pressed her ear against the wall.
I watched him speak to people and occasionally point to the sky. Everyone around him seemed taken by his fancy appearance, but they were all shoulders; they had no idea what he was on about.
"None of you?" asked Artemis. "None of you saw a group of people come from the sky?" She spoke slowly as she listened. "I sensed them here in this town when I arrived. Now they have disappeared. Have you done something?"
"I don't believe it," Hephaestus spoke, a spark of hope in his heart. "He cannot sense us. But how?"
"Perhaps this lodge is magical," Apollo said, a small smile appearing on his face. "What luck! What unbelievable luck!"
I couldn't help but smile at our good fortune as I watched them breathe sighs of relief. My gaze stopped on Athena however, as she was staring at me with narrowed eyes as though deep in thought.
"It is... possible that I was mistaken," Artemis spoke. "But I could have sword upon my steel that I sensed all of them this way." She looked up at me and smiled. "Buck, he is leaving!"
I watched through the window as the god turned and heaved a frustrated sigh. He looked up at the sky before leaping up and out of view. The people by the fountain gasped so hard I could hear it through the walls of the lodge.
"He's gone!" I exclaimed. "He took off!" I turned to find Athena right next to me and my back hit the wall. Her eyes were inches from mine. "Oh- uhh- hey, Athena," I said nervously, sidling away from her. "You, uhh... You good?"
"What is it?" asked Artemis as she stood up. "What do you sense in Buck?"
The others gathered near the window caging me in as Athena stared into my soul. I swallowed and glanced around. "What?"
"Nothing," Athena smiled.
"Nothing?"
"I sense... nothing." she clarified.
"Now that you mention it," Apollo leaned in. "I too sense no aura from the new god."
"Hm," Hephaestus scratched his temple. "You know... I cannot sense him either. Not even a little of him."
"Can't sense me?" I asked. "I don't know, you're all looking awfully hard at me."
"You have no aura," Athena clarified. "Every god and goddess has an aura without exception," she explained.
"To put it to you in terms you will better understand," said Apollo. "Think of when you go to visit someone you know at their house. Their house has a distinct smell, no?"
"Yeah," I nodded cautiously. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Not always like a bad smell, but a scent."
"Now imagine," Artemis chimed in. "That you can smell that person's home-smell when they are close."
"Within a mile," Athena added. "We can sense others of our kind in such a way. Some can sense it stronger than others."
"... And you're saying I don't have one?" I asked. "Like at all?"
"Perhaps because he was first human," Hephaestus offered.
"No," Apollo smiled, looking at Athena.
"We're on the same page, Apollo," Athena smiled back.
"Hm?" Artemis placed her hands on her hips. "If you have figured something out, please share it."
"I believe," said Athena, pointing playfully at me. "That our friend here is camoflauge, so to speak."
"A god of isolation," Apollo said in wonderment. "If he does not wish to be found..."
"My word," Hephaestus smiled. "If that is truly a power of yours... I am jealous."
"You think I'm hiding your auras?" I asked, a half-smile on my face. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," Athena answered with a relieved sigh. "I believe merely being close to you erases our presence from those that seek us."
I looked down at my own hands and tightened them into fists. It was amazing. I was emitting godlike powers without even trying. It was just a part of who I was now. What luck that I was lonely enough in life to assert a domain that could hide me in plain sight from those that would wish me harm. I was so happy to be useful I couldn't even form it into words.
"We should run further still," Artemis cut in. "I am a piece of Father, and if I know him, he will still not give up the search. Unable to sense our auras, he will still search high and low with his eyes and ears. He will follow our trail."
"Agreed," Athena answered quickly. "We must not stay here."
"Well, where do we go?" I asked.
"To Asgard," Hephaestus answered firmly.
"I believe it was you who said Odin would not take us in, yes?" asked Apollo.
"We are not going for shelter," Hephaestus smiled a devilish grin. "We are going... for materials."
Asgard wasn't what I expected. Truth was, I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. The sky was a splauched watercolor painting of blues and violets, and even black in some places as the winds blew across the roiling water beneath. The plane seemed to be on the brink of a major storm that never quite arrived. The air was salty and cold as we were rowed across the noisy waters toward the great hall on the hill. I could see it through the fog with a mighty hearth fire burning at the port.
"It's kind of dreary," I noted as the Norseman rowed us to shore.
"I adore this type of weather," Artemis grinned widely. "It is so exciting, would you not agree?"
"I must admit, I too enjoy the calm before a storm," Hephaestus agreed. "Great power swells within the clouds. The potential is hair-raising."
"I would oft come to earth just for this feeling," Apollo spoke next. "There's nothing like it."
"Perhaps it is a sense of godlike nostalgia among Zeus's children," Athena said before taking a big wiff of the air. "We all love storms, it seems."
I preferred sunny weather, but it wasn't like I didn't understand. There was something exilerating about a storm so intense that it knocked the power out. We'd gather together in the living room and light all our candles, and play board games while we listened to the rolling thunder over our heads.
I missed that.
I missed my family.
And it was striking me just then as we pulled up to the shore that I might never see anyone I loved ever again. I had been so caught up in getting away from an angry deity that I hadn't really had the time to sit and think about the state of my life.
The longboat rumbled beneath us as it bore into the rocky shoreline. The other gods climbed out and onto the shore, and I followed quietly behind them. We marched up the torchlit path to the great hall under heavy fog. The rocks crunched under my boots as I moved up the incline. I never did tire or run out of breath— divinity had robbed me of such mortal difficulties. I should have been thrilled, but my heart was heavy. Would I never know the challenge of exercise again?
I shook the thoughts away. I kept thinking like a poet inside my head. It was so weird having my inner monologue change. Would I be speaking like Artemis eventually? Or could I keep a more natural sentence structure like Athena? At least she used contractions. Artemis sounded like a language model; like Microsoft Sam, or Starfire from Teen Titans or something— like she was still getting a grasp on the language after thousands of years.
When we reached the top of the path, we stood before the great hall's massive wooden doors. We beheld them for only a moment before they parted in the middle and creaked open. A tall man— taller than any of us strode out of the hall. He wore what looked like an animal pelt across his silver shoulder pauldrons, and the rest of his outfit was made up of dark leather that thinly veiled his abdominal muscles. He surveyed us through a single eye, brushing his long grey hair out of his face and behind his ears. I couldn't tell if he was smiling beneath his thick beard.
"You have ten seconds to explain," he spoke harshly.
It was a safe bet that he wasn't smiling.
"It's the new deity," Athena spoke quickly. "Brian," she clarified, turning and looking over her shoulder at me.
"Me?" I cried out in surprise. "I haven't done anything yet!"
"His domains are indulgence, isolation, and humor... so far as we know. It the second of his domains that concerns you."
"But we promise," Artemis interjected. "He cannot control it yet! And you will understand, soon enough, that it is best that we cannot be detected."
The man looked me over, his frown softening into a look of curiosity. "How about that?" he asked, moving through the crowd of gods nearer to me. "I didn't know about it," he said in a deep tone. "Do you have any idea," he asked, looking me dead in the eyes. "... How long it has been since I didn't know something?"
The valleys of age that ran across his face didn't for a single second betray the enormity of his might. I could feel the weight of his power on my shoulders as he studied me. I didn't have to ask who he was. I could feel it in my bones— this was Odin.
This was the All-Father.
Athena appeared at his side and smiled sweetly at him. "How does it feel?" she asked.
"Unnerving," he answered. "And yet... exhilerating, I could not sense any of you approaching. I didn't know you would be here before I heard the horns of the boatmen." he turned to her. "How is this possible?"
"Well, now," Athena said in her most charming voice. "How would you like to hear a story you haven't heard before? One you didn't immediately know as the pen met the page?"
"Ha," he placed a thick hand on her shoulder. "I knew I would like you, Athena." He turned to the others and smiled genuinely. "Come! Join me at my table! We have about an hour before Poseidon shows up asking for you."
I was in awe.
He was completely omniscient it seemed.
He knew all— except for me.
I couldn't help the feeling of unease as we followed him into the hall and the gargantuan wooden doors closed behind us. If Odin felt I was a threat to him...
I was certain none of us would be able to stand up to him.
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/blablador-2001

Disclaimer: I do not speak Korean. This is purely translated by machine with a lot of cleanup afterward. With that in mind, I am open to criticism to improve these translations. Enjoy!
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Chapter 425
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Thud!
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White Flames, having lost its mark, skittered across the ground.
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"Ah."
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With a snap of his fingers, the Arch Lich ensnared me, who stood frozen like a statue. Black hands, summoned from the void, clamped tightly around my body.
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He wielded his magic effortlessly, foregoing the incantations usually required for spellcasting.
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Step by step.
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With each stride, the Arch Lich's magic swirled through him like a dense fog.
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His left arm, obliterated earlier by my One Strike, began to regenerate. The shattered bones, now shaded darker, knitted together with eerie robustness.
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As the completion of the Gate approached, his power swelled correspondingly.
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- I wondered why I could smell death on you. That's quite a spectacular reason, isn't it? The friendship between a human and a monster is... quite touching.
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Creak.
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The sound of misaligned bones grated through my frame, yet my gaze drifted over the Arch Lich's shoulder.
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Focused on a sword embedded in the earth, its hilt clutched by a hand that refused to relinquish its grip.
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'Skeleton Warlord.'
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By divine decree, humans and monsters were eternal adversaries.
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Initially, it had been the same between us.
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But now... I realized. At some juncture, the Skeleton Warlord had transcended mere monstrosity in my eyes.
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'If I had still thought of him as just a monster, I would have annihilated him with my own hands.'
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Destroying the Skeleton Warlord could have provided a crucial boost through leveling up.
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Yet I faltered, and ultimately, I abstained.
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Not merely because he had spared my life, but because he had won a place as a friend in my heart.
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A hollow laugh burst from my lips.
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‘Damn it. I should have never gotten attached.’
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At that, the Arch Lich’s eyes narrowed slightly.
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- You're laughing? In this situation?
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“My mother used to say that laughter brings fortune.”
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- You must be out of your mind.
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“Why the fuss if I want to laugh? Are you my date or something?”
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I spat at the Arch Lich’s face. A thick, ambiguous mixture of blood and phlegm trickled down his brow.
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At that moment, a fierce red glow blazed from where his eyes ought to be.
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- I've heard your response well.
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“Fuck you.”
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If I claimed to have no regrets about my life up to this point, I would be lying. Regrets, however, always arrive too late, and I've fought hard enough until now.
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When I finally let go, everything seemed like a fleeting dream. My face, relaxed in a smile, was mirrored in the Arch Lich's sinister red gaze.
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- I've said this before. Your body will be torn to shreds, and your soul will wander the River of Death forever.
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I nodded, accepting this grim fate easily.
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“That sounds about right. Just like that demon bastard you serve.”
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- ...!
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“When I meet him, I’ll send your regards. Give me his address.”
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- ...Let’s see how long you can keep spouting such nonsense.
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With a mere gesture from the Arch Lich, the massive magical hands constricting me tightened their grip and began to tear at my limbs with incredible force.
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Slowly, bit by bit.
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Creak, crunch.
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A small cracking sound from within awoke the sense of pain I had momentarily escaped.
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Though I believed I had no energy left for screams, an involuntary howl tore through my lips.
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“Argh, aaaaargh!”
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- That's it. Much better.
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Blinded by agony, I braced for death as I unleashed the screams I had suppressed.
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But just as the pain began to ebb away, instead of death, a System notification chimed.
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Ding.
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- [Top-grade Potion] used!
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- The amount of potion used is too small. The injury has been slightly healed!
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- Your injuries are too severe. A more potent and higher-quality healing is necessary!
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…What?
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As a refreshing sensation mingled with renewed pain, my eyes met the Arch Lich's, which gleamed mockingly.
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In his hand, he held a glass bottle.
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‘I see.’
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It was one of the potions from Lee Jeong-Ryong’s subspace pocket, previously pilfered by the Arch Lich.
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And now, he wielded the healing potion as an instrument of torment.
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The potion delivered just enough healing to forestall death, yet it intensified my agony to new excruciating heights.
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- Foolish human. Did you really think I would grant you an easy and comfortable death?
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“……!”
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- Continue to wail. Cry like a coward, thrash in pain, and only after you realize your foolishness will you be able to head towards the River of Death.
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The Arch Lich swirled the glass bottle, his tone laced with derision.
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The potion, diminished by barely a tenth, was a clear measure of the enduring pain yet to come.
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That torment seemed destined to stretch into infinity.
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Amidst the minimal relief and overwhelming pain, I gasped for air and managed a forced smile.
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"If I chant 'Long live the Demon King' three times, will you end it quickly?"
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- Well, if you put your heart and soul into it, I might consider.
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“I won’t, you son of a bitch.”
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- That's fine. We have plenty of time anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to think it over slowly…
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Crack!
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The Arch Lich’s glowing eyes flickered wildly, mirroring my own shock.
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It was something neither he nor I had expected.
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- What is this...
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His voice trailed off in suspicion as he glanced down at his chest.
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It was light. A brilliant, overwhelming radiance — bright enough to rival the sun - erupted from his chest.
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'No, it’s not just light.'
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I stared at it with a vacant gaze. It was a sword, emitting a brilliance greater than anything I had ever before.
​
I knew the name of that all-too-familiar sword.
​
‘Hero’s Soul.’
​
Beyond the skeletal chest of the Arch Lich, I could see the steadfast hand that clutched the sword’s hilt.
​
“……!”
​
Time seemed to halt.
​
In this nearly frozen world, I watched as hundreds, then thousands, of bone fragments coalesced.
​
They were mere remnants of a skeleton, yet they drew together with magnetic force, beginning to reconstruct.
​
Click, clack!
​
The symphony of bones assembling.
​
First, the limbs took shape, followed swiftly by the torso.
​
The bones, once black and lustrous, were bathed in the radiance of the [Hero's Soul]. They soon took on a subtle gold hue, lengthening and hardening in the process.
​
'Ah.'
​
It was a miraculous transformation.
​
The myriad bone fragments merged, reconstructing a body in a manner that seemed to reverse the flow of time. The light emanating from the sword expelled the darkness lodged within the joints, heralding the genesis of a new entity.
​
And then, as the skull clicked into place atop the reformed body—
​
Flash!
​
Golden light exploded from the vacant eye sockets, emitting an aura both deeply familiar and intriguingly foreign.
​
In the next moment, the suspended time resumed its course.
​
- You asked me why?
​
“……!”
​
My body jolted as if struck by lightning, recalling a memory from barely an hour earlier.
​
​
​
'But why? ...Why?'
​
​
​
That had been my question. Why did you shield me, knowing it spelled your destruction?
​
At the time, his response was uncertain, hinting that perhaps the sword had cast a spell over him.
​
Now, the answer I had not heard before resonated clearly.
​
- You're a cunning, wicked human...but also a pretty good guy.
​
A pretty good guy.
​
A phrase I had once said to someone else.
​
I stared at him, astonished. His enlarged, solid form radiated a soft golden glow. The silver pattern etched on the forehead of his skull resembled a crown.
​
No, it was clearly a crown.
​
​
​
[Lv.160 Skeleton King]
​
​
​
As the System window hovered above his head, laughter bubbled up from me uncontrollably.
​
"My Golgol has grown a lot."
​
- I wondered why I've been feeling itchy all this time. [Note: just a quick reminder: the Skeleton Warlord has previously complained, during one of the MC's abusive treatments, that his bones have been itchy and sensitive lately. For more details, look at novel chapter 409.]
​
The once small, dark caterpillar had finally emerged from its cocoon, wings unfurled.
​
The luminance of the Skeleton Warlord — now the Skeleton King — radiated outward like a crescent moon. Both of us shared a moment of laughter.
​
Yet, there was one who could not share in our mirth.
​
- Argh! Aaaaargh!
​
The Arch Lich.
​
This unparalleled Named Monster, commander of legions of the undead and bearer of undying, formidable magical powers, now contorted in torment.
​
A sword impaled through the heart of his chest.
​
The golden radiance from the [Hero's Soul] began to devour the magic, dissolving his form.
​
Perhaps even his soul.
​
- Human.
​
Prompted by the Skeleton King’s gentle summons, I knew it was time.
​
'Let's end this.'
​
Ding.
​
​
​
- [Hero's Soul] bestows upon you the light of healing!
​
- All status abnormalities have been removed!
​
- All injuries and stats have been restored!
​
- The soul of the departed smiles upon you.
​
​
​
Whoosh!
​
A surge of light from the [Hero's Soul] enveloped me, its warmth mending my fractured bones and knitting my flesh back together.
​
My organs, once damaged, and blood vessels, previously torn, now regenerated, the heat within them simmering like molten lava.
​
'I can do this.'
​
This newfound conviction was as solid as steel, surprising even to myself, yet unmistakably true.
​
With such power at my command, there was nothing beyond my reach.
​
'My turn.'
​
Ssssssht! Thump!
​
I picked up White Flames, which lay discarded nearby.
​
Pop!
​
Leaping into the air, I extended my foot.
​
My trajectory aimed me straight at the Arch Lich, who, amidst his powerful sorcery, writhed in agony.
​
- What in the world! What magic have you used!
​
The Arch Lich bellowed in fury.
​
His eyes, pulsating red, dilated with each pulse of agony.
​
His pain was palpable.
​
- Damn you, damn human! Aaaaargh!
​
Ignoring his curses, I raised White Flames with deliberate calm.
​
I positioned the mystical spear, its blade shimmering, to strike not just the flailing Arch Lich but also the ominous Gate looming behind him.
​
Whoosh.
​
From the core of my lower dantian, the fire dragon unfurled its wings, ascending as a fiery orb that exploded outward in all directions. The flames, kindled at my fingertips, climbed up the shaft of White Flames, cloaking it in layers of azure fire.
​
- You bastard! How dare you!
​
The Arch Lich flailed his limbs in a frenzy as his rage boiled over. Yet, the magic he cast fizzled out before it could reach me, snuffed by the searing barrier that cocooned me.
​
Despite his faltering strength, the darkness around the Gate churned with renewed vigor.
​
Then, it struck me.
​
'Now!'
​
As I twisted my body, the force of rotation surged from my legs through my waist, amplifying as it reached my shoulders and wrists. This caused White Flames to quiver with intense energy.
​
An extraordinary power, harnessed from the depths of my being, ignited a flame more colossal than any before.
​
This was the moment.
​
Swoosh!
​
In an instant, the distance between me and the Arch Lich collapsed, and time seemed to stretch thin.
​
Before his lips could complete his incantation, I struck with a force fueled by every ounce of my resolve and strength.
​
- Blin...!
​
One Strike.
​
There would be no second chances. The azure dragon, unleashed from the blade, enveloped both the Arch Lich and the ominous Gate.
​
Kaboom!
​
Previous Table of Contents Next

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
When I woke up, I was in such a haze that I couldn’t make out where I was at first. My vision was a blur and all I could hear was the sounds of rushing water. I tried to move my limbs, but each muscle down to my little finger felt like lead weighing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
It felt like forever before the ringing in my ear was slowly swallowed out by a voice crying out from what sounded like a distance only to grow louder as it seemed to approach me from the void I had woken up in. It wasn’t until I heard my name that I recognized it was Kate’s voice, pleading and filled with tears.
I blinked away the blur, finding myself staring up at a water damaged ceiling, a single yellow light brightening the room. My head was pounding and my body still felt heavy, but I moved my head enough to turn and see where Kate was calling from. It took a moment, but I soon realized that she was lying on her back, strapped by her arms and legs to a metal table, looking to me with wide terrified eyes.
“Detective, please help!” She cried out. “Please don’t be dead! Please help me!”
“Bl-Black…Well…” I groaned out as I tried, painfully, to pick myself up off the stone floor, “Black…Well… Ah… Shit… Shit! Ms. Blackwell-“ I was gaining consciousness minute by minute as I finally took in the situation and got to my feet. However, the moment I had gotten to my feet and began running to Kate only to immediately fall back to the floor once again, my ankle getting caught by something heavy. I turned to see my ankle had been shackled to the floor by a cuff and chains. I searched my person to find my coat, along with my Glock had been taken, blood decorating my pants and sleeves. I placed a palm to my forehead to find blood when I lowered it down to look at the warm liquid slithering down from my scalp.
“Ms. Blackwell,” I returned my attention to her, examining what I could from my place on the floor, “are you alright, are you hurt?”
“I… I… I don’t… Don’t think so…” she managed to whine out.
“Where’s Mr. Raines?”
To this question, Kate looked away from me, sobbing being her only verbal response.
I went back to the shackles on my ankle and began trying to yank the chains off from the floor, but they had been well maintained and were too strong for me to simply yank out of the stone. I then quickly looked around the room to find we were in a different basement from the one in Cabin #3, though it had the same kind of layout, the table the only major difference. I also took note of the blood stains that trailed from the sides of the table and the dried pools below.
“I want my mom!” Kate cried out, her voice echoing in the empty room.
“I’ll get you to her, I will, I promise,” I assured her, trying to find something, anything to get us out of this, “do you remember how we got down here?”
“I… I… I just re-remember… Remember you g-getting knocked out… Knocked out by someone and them… Them putting a rag over me… Then everything went black… Then I woke… Woke up… H-Here…” Kate answered, trying to breathe with each sob she let out. “I… I th-thought… y-you… You were d-d-… Dead!”
“I’m not, I’m very much alive and I’m going to get you out of here and back to your parents,” I vowed as I continued looking for a way out of this situation, “we’re going to get you out of here, get you home, and we’ll make sure no one ever gets hurt here ever-“
The sound of the basement door from the splintered wooden steps cut me off. I listened as feet descended down the steps to the basement below, Kate’s ragged breaths the only other sound. The person who came down was a woman. The same exact woman from the photo I had found in her house. She looked as if she had not aged since that photo was taken, despite how long ago it seemed the photo was taken. She had the same exact long, white hair, same tired looking eyes, and same disgustingly pale skin as in that photo and on her profile picture. It was Mrs. Larson.
“Deeeeeetectiiiiiiive,” she spoke in a hoarse voice mixed with what I assumed was her own and several others, both male and female, adult and child, “youuuuuuu shouuuullld haaaaaaaaave juuuuuuusssssst giiiiiven herrrrrrr toooooo meeeeee… Youuuuuuuu diiiiiiiiid nooooooot haaaaaave toooooooo ssssssseeeee thiiiiiissssss…”
“Fuck you!” I shouted, beginning to charge at the elderly woman only to be yanked back by my shackles. “Let us go, right now!”
“Nnnnooooo,” Mrs. Larson replied harshly as she stepped over to loom over Kate.
“Stay away from her!” I barked, trying desperately to break free of my shackles.
She ignored me as she ran a shaky hand down along Kate’s trembling face. “Ooooooooohhhhh, Kaaaaaate… Sweeeeet, sweeeeeeeet, Kaaaaaaaaaate…” Mrs. Larson cooed as she went on stroking Kate’s wet cheek. “Doooooo noooooooot crrrrrrryyyyyyy, dooooooonnnnnn’t thiiiiiiiiiinnnnk oooooofff iiiiiiiit aaaaaaaassssss dyyyyyyyyiiiiinnnnng, thiiiiiiiiinnnk ooooooooffff iiiiiiit aaaaaassssss ssssssssaaaaaaaaaviiiiiiinnng aaaaaannnnoooootherrrrrrrrr liiiiiiiiife.”
“I-I… I d-don’t… Don’t under-understand… w-what th-that… That m-means…” Kate cried, her hands gripping the sides of the metal table beneath her, “P-Please, d-don’t… Don’t kill me… L-Let… Let us-us go!”
“Nnnnnoooooo,” Mrs. Larson answered in the same harshness she used on me, “IIIIIIIII neeeeeeeed youuuuuuuuuu,” she then shot a death glare my way through tired, silver eyes, “aaaaaaaannnnnnd heeeeeeeeee’ssssssss beeeeeeeeeennnnnn nnnnnnnoooooooothiiiiiiiiinnnnnng buuuuut aaaaaa thooooooorrrrrrnnnn iiiiiiinnnnn myyyyyyyyy ssssssssiiiiiiiide siiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnccccccce youuuuuu eeeeeessssssscaaaaaaped meeeeeeee.” She then looked back to Kate with a softer look. “Aaaaaaaassssss fffffoooooorrrrr whaaaaaaaat youuuuuuu caaaaaannnn’t uuuuuunnnnnnderrrrrrssssssstaaaaaaannnnnnd, IIIIIIIIII nnnnnneeeeeeed yourrrrrrrrrr heaaaaaaaarrrrrt tooooooo ssssssssaaaaaavvvvvvve myyyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiiisssssssterrrrrrrr.”
“The fuck does that mean?” I demanded, still trying to vain to pull my ankle from the chains. “How the hell will Kate’s heart save your sister?”
“Diiiiiiiiidnnnnnn’t nnnnnnneeeeeeed toooooo beeeee Kaaaaaaate’sssssss,” admitted Mrs. Larson, “buuuuuuuut sssshhhhhheeeeee hiiiiiiiiid theeeeee ooooooootherrrrr giiiiirrrrrrllllll ffffffrrrrroooooommmmm mmmmmeeeeee.”
“S-Son… Sonja…” Kate sniffed, the tears still streaming down her face.
“IIIIIIII oooooooonnnnnlllllyyyyy neeeeed fffffffeeeeeemmmmmaaaaallllle,” Mrs. Larson dismissed Ms. Greymoore’s name, “ffffffeeeeeeemmmmmaaaaaallllle heaaaaaaaarrrrrrrtsssss toooooo rrrrrrreeeeeetuuuuurrrrrrnnnnn mmmmmmyyyyy ssssiiiiissssssterrrrrrrrr toooooo theeeeeeee giiiiirrrrrllllll ssssshhhhhheeeee uuuuuuuusssssed tooooo beeeeeee.”
“That’s a fucking joke right?” I asked. “The hell makes you think eating a female heart will turn your sister back into a human woman? Have you seen what’s happened to your sister?”
“IIIIIIIII knnnnnnnooooooow beeeeeeecaaaauuuuusssssse iiiiiiiiiiit wooooooorrrrrked ooooooonnnnn mmmmmeeeeee,” Mrs. Larson explained, “IIIIIIIIIII waaaaaasssss aaaaaaablllllllle toooooo reeeeeeetaaaaiiiiiinnnnnn thiiiiiiiiiisssssss huuuuuummmmmmaaaaaannnnn fffffffooooorrrrrrmmmm ffffffrrrrrooooommmm eeeeeaaaaatiiiiiinnnnnng theeeeeeee heaaaaaaaaarrrrrtsssss, sssssspecifffffficaaaaaaallllllyyyyyy fffffffeeeeeemmmmmaaaaallllleeee sssssssooooooo IIIIIIIIII mmmmmmaaaaaayyyyyy rrrrrreeeeetuuuurrrrrnnnnn toooo beeeeeiiiiinnnng theeeeeeee giiiiiirrrrrrrllllll IIIIIII uuuuuuusssssed toooooooo beeeeeee.”
“You were dead,” I pointed out, “they found your body up here, you were buried.”
“Theeeeeessssssse sssshhhhheeeeeellllllsssss arrrrrrre mmmmmeeeeeerrreeeellllyyy veeeeeessssssellllllssssss ffffffoooooorrrrrr theeeeeeee sssssspiiiiirrrrriiiiiitsssss weeeee hiiiiiiiiiiide beeeeeneeeeaaaaattthhhh,” Mrs. Larson responded, finally turning her gaze to me, “IIIIIIII haaaaaaad tooooooo maaaake peeeopllllle beeeelieevvvve IIIIIII haaaaaad diiiiiiied tooooo keeeeeep frrrrroooommm theeeee poooooollllliiiiicccce ffffrrrrrrooooommmm pooookiiiiiinnnng aaaaarrrrouuuuuunnnnd aaaaannnnnd rrrrruuuiiinnnnniiinnnng eeeevvvveeerrrrryyythiiiiinnnng.”
“So, let me just get this whole thing straight,” I began as I started rubbing my temples, "when you and your sister starting into… Whatever the hell that thing you call your sister is-“
“Ooooouuuurrrrr sssssspiiiiiirrrrrriiiiiit,” Mrs. Larson corrected.
“Whatever!” I shot. “You found out that eating female hearts turns you two back into human women and to keep police from suspecting you, you pretended to be dead and… What? Just hope a shitty real estate agency would buy your property and you could just… Kill people, people with lives and families outside the mountains?”
“Thaaaaaaaat iiiiiiisssss cooooorrrrrreeeeect…” Mrs. Larson admitted, narrowing her eyes at me.
That’s when I began laughing hysterically, holding my sides that hurt with each harsh breath of a laugh I took. Both Mrs. Larson and Kate looked to me as if I had lost my mind and at this point I was starting to believe I had. Everything I had seen and heard about this entire case would put anyone in the looney bin. And I’m the damn fool who dug too deep into something he had nothing to do with.
“Whaaaaaat’s ssssoooo ffffuuunnnny?” Growled Mrs. Larson, stepping around Kate to stand between us.
“I don’t know what’s fucking funnier, honestly,” I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, “the fact that you thing people won’t be poking around even more when they discover not only is Blackwell missing, but so is a detective and escaped convict all of whom now have ties to these fucking mountains and those cabins, or that you thing I’m more afraid of what you plan on doing with me more than I am when her father finds out I got her in this situation in the first place!”
“Heeeeeee wooooonnnnn’t beeeee aaaaabllllle toooooo doooo aaaaaannnnnyyyyythiiiiiinnnng aaaaaaafffffterrrrrrr IIIIIIIII’mmmmm dooooooonnnne wiiiiiiiith booooooth ooooooooffffff youuuuuuuuu,” Mrs. Larson hissed as she inched closer, “fffffffiiiiiiirrrrrrssssst, IIIIIIIII waaaaaannnnnt youuuuuuuu toooo waaaaaatch mmmmmeeeee kiiiiiiillllll herrrrrrr,” she turned her head to look to Kate who was now just shaking, her eyes seemingly gone dry from the crying, Mrs. Larson then looked back to me, “sssssseeeeecooooonnnnd, IIIIIIII wiiiiillllll ssssssaaaaave youuuuu fffffooooorrrr mmmmmmyyyyy sssssiiiiiisssssterrrrr, oooooonnnnne heeeeaaaaart wiiiiilllll nnnnoooot ssssssaaaaaatissssfffffyyyy herrrr huuuuuunnnnnger.” She took another step. “Uuuuuuuunnnnnllllliiiiiike sssssssoooooommmme ssssssiiiiiibllllliiiiiiinnnnnngsssss, IIIIIIIII caaaaaarrrre aaaaaaboooouuuuut mmmmmmyyyyy ffffffaaaammmmiiiiilllllyyyyyy.”
She stared into my eyes, expecting a reaction and while my blood did somewhat boil at the accusatory statement, I didn’t fully understand what she was getting at. Not until she used that voice. Not until she relived that day with those two familiar child-like voices.
“Screw you, Liam!” She cried out in a voice I remember from my childhood. “I hope you drop dead!”
“Stop.” I demanded.
“Piss off, Ryan!” She shot back in a second boy’s voice.
“I said stop!” I began shouting.
“Help me, Ryan! Please, help me! I’m sorry! Please, Lucky Dime, help me!”
I then lunged toward her, reaching my hands out toward her neck only to be stopped by the shackles as she swiftly, almost without even moving, stepped just out of my reach.
“Fucking bitch!” I screamed out.
“If only you really cared about me, Lucky Dime,” sighed Mrs. Larson as she turned and began making her way to the side of the room where a cart stood in the shadows. She pulled it over to Kate’s side, the cart covered in rusted medical tools.
“P-Please,” Kate wheezed, “p-p-please… I… I d-d-don’t w-want… Want t-to d-d… D-Die, I… I w-w-want m-m-m… My m-mom!”
“Dooooonnn’t woooorrrrryyyyy,” Mrs. Larson soothed, using that mix of different voices, “mmmmmmaaaayyyyybeeee sheeee wiiiillll cooooommmme loooookinnnng ffffooooorrrr yooouuuuu aaaaannnnnd sheeeeeee caaaaannnnn joooooiiiiiinnnn youuuuuuu.”
Kate began to sob, begging and pleading for Mrs. Larson to let her go, thrashing around in her restraints. Telling the older woman that there was no saving her sister and that she was too far gone for this sick ritual to work anymore. I tried to yank at the chains once more, trying to loosen it at least enough to break free and grab at Mrs. Larson.
“Rrrrrrreeeeellllllaaaaax,” Mrs. Larson ordered as she began filling a syringe with some kind of clear liquid from a small bottle, “yoooouuuuuu woooooonnnn’t eeeeeveeennn fffffeeeellll iiiiiiit, thiiiissssss wiiiiiillllll puuuuuut youuuuu toooo ssssssllllllleeeeeep aaaaaannnnnnd wheeeeeennnnnn youuuuuu waaaaaake uuuuuuuup, youuuuuuu’lllllll beeee iiiiiinnnnnn heeeeeaaaaaaveeeennnnn… Uuuuuunnnnnnnllllllessssss youuuuuuu weeeerrrrrrre aaaaaa haaaaaarrrrrlllllooooooot, iiiiiiinnnnnn whiiiiiiiich caaaaaassssssseeeee, mmmmmaaaayyyy Goooooood haaaaaaaave mmmmmmmmerrrrrrrcccccyyyyy ooooonnnnn youuuuuur ssssssoooouuuuullllll… Aaaaannnnnd baaaaaaasssssed ooooonnnn hoooooow youuuuuu drrrrressss aaaaannnnnd theeeee coooommmmpaaaannnnyyyy youuuuuu keeeeeep,” She added as she eyed me, “IIIIIII ssssssaaaaaayyyy youuuuu haaaaaave aaaaa lllllloooooot ooooooffff fooooooorrrrgiiiiiviiiiinnnnng tooooo dooooo.”
Kate continued to cry as Mrs. Larson pushed the needle of the syringe into her arm, pushing down on the plunger as it pierced the flesh. Kate’s loud screams soon turned quieter and her red eyes began to glaze over, but she continued to stay awake, tightening her grip on the table and still begging to be let go.
“IIIIII waaaaannnnt youuuuu toooo waaaaatch, Detective,” Mrs. Larson spat out my title in Mr. Blackwell’s voice, “IIIII waaaaannnnnt youuuuu toooo waaaaatch herrrrrr fffffaaaaaade aaaaaannnnnnd mmmmmeeeee rrrrreeeemmmmooooove heerr heeeaaaarrrrrt toooooo ffffffeeeeeed tooooo mmmmmmyyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiiissssssterrrrrr,” she then pulled out a recorder, “theeeeennnnnn wheeeeeennnnn IIIIIII ssssssuuuuummmmoooooonnnnn herrrrrrr aaannnnd sheeeee fffffiiiinnnniiiishessssss oooooofffffff heeeerrrrr heeeaaaaarrrrrt, youuuuuuu’llllllll beeeeee neeeeeext.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled, “I hope you and your sister burn.”
“IIIIIIIII’mmmmm gooooonnnnnaaaaa gooooo aaaaallllllerrrrrrt mmmmmyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiissssterrrrrr,” Mrs. Larson turned and began making her way to the basement steps, “ssssseeee youuuuu boooooth ffffffoooooorrrr diiiiiinnnnnnerrrrrrr.”
She then pressed the play button on her recorder and a small, little girl’s voice echoed in the room before Mrs. Larson vanished up the steps.
“I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…”
Then the door slammed shut.
“De… Tec… Tive…” Kate squeaked out, her breathing slowing.
“Stay awake, Blackwell,” I ordered her gently, looking around frantically for anything to get us both out of this alive, “I’ll get us out of this, I promise, just stay awake, we’ll get out of here, I just need-“
“I’m… S… Sorry…” she breathed out. “I’m… So… Sorry… For… Get… Getting… You… In… To.. This…”
“No, no, this is not your fault!” I assured her. “That psychotic bitch got us both into this shit and I won’t stop until I get us out and put her and her fucking sister are six feet under!”
“W…Wha… What… H… Hap… Happened… To… To L… Liam…?”
I stopped struggling with the chains and turned to look to Kate. Her head was turned to me, her face wet, hands clenching as hard as they could to the table beneath her, the light in her eyes slowly fading second by second. She was trying desperately to stay awake. The medication Mrs. Larson taking hold of her as the minutes ticked by.
I dropped the chains that were in my hands, looking away from her, wanting to stare at anything other than another person I had failed.
“He was killed,” I answered, “we were fishing at a lake nearby… Lake Gaagige… We got into a really stupid ass fucking fight about how which fishing pole we were going to use. I wanted to use our dad’s, but Liam was older and said only men could use dad’s fishing pole… I told him… To drop dead and stormed off… When I got home, my parents dragged me back to the lake and scolded me for leaving him…” I trailed off, swallowing all the tears and screams I’d bottled up since that day. “When… We found… Him… The autopsy… Said he was mauled by a bear… I’ve blamed myself for leaving him there alone… For letting him die and getting killed like that… The last thing I ever told him was to drop dead… I was a shitty brother and now I’m a shitty detective…”
“Is… Is he… Why… You became… A… Detective…?”
I took a deep breath and swallowed the tears again. “No, Blackwell,” I answered, “he’s not why I became a detective… I already knew what had killed him… It was my fault… If I hadn’t been such a brat and stormed off… He might still be alive… And now… What that bitch said…” I replayed Liam’s screams that escaped Mrs. Larson’s mouth. “I’m starting to think I’m getting what I deserve. Karma’s back to kick my ass…”
“H… How… Old…?”
“I was six… Liam was eight…”
“N… N… Not your… F… Fault…”
I turned to look to Kate, her eyes on mine, however faded.
“Y… You were… Only… A k… Kid…”
I took another intake of what little air there was down in that basement. I had spent years trying to convince myself of the same thing, but those moments never got easier for me when those thoughts returned.
“I think you’re just being nice,” I laughed painfully, “but I’m afraid I- and my folks- don’t share the same sentiment.”
I was staring down at where the chains were coming from in the ground, Kate not saying a word for over a couple of minutes. I spun to see if she had fallen asleep and immediately tried to find out how to wake her up again. However, once I our eyes met, I saw that she was still fighting sleep, the last of her tears rolling down across the bridge of her nose and into her hair.
“I… I… I had… Had a c… Crush… O… On… J… Jasper…” she confessed, her voice getting quieter and higher. “P… Paul and… And Son… Sonja knew… I never… Never c… Cared f… For Luke… But I’m… Sure… S… Sonja t… Told him…” she looked like she was going to sob again. “I… I never g… Got the… Ch… Chance… T… To tell J… Jasper… I… Was… Scared… He… He and… P… Paul were friends… And I… I kn… Knew… How P… Paul f… Felt… A… About m… Me… I… I did… Didn’t wa… Want to… R… Ruin… Anyth… Anything…” She took a gulp of air. “I… I ha… Hated L… Luke… I… A… Always… Kn… Knew… He… He was a… Player… B… But Sonja… Said… Said she was hap… Happy… So… So I did… Didn’t wa… Want to g… Get in… H… Her way… B… But Luke d… Didn’t l… Like h… How cl… Close… We… Were… I d… Didn’t w… Want him to make… Make her th… Think I… I was l… Leading her o… On… T… To get them… To b… Break up… Th… Then… That n… Night… Sh… She w… Wanted to… To leave…” She let out two pained gasps of breath. “I… I let them down… I let them all down… Luke pro… Probably thought… Thought I w… Was the one who… Who f… Filled Sonja’s mind… With thoughts of… Of him ch… Cheating… Th… Then I… I got them… All killed…
I… I didn’t deserve them, d… Detective…” she went on, looking away from me to stare up at the water damaged ceiling, “I… I… I was a… Terrible… Terrible friend…”
“Did you read their guest book entries?” I asked.
“N… No… D… Didn’t w… Want to… To r… Read any… Anything p… Private…” Kate answered.
“Jasper didn’t blame you,” I assured her, remembering what he had written in his entry during his time watching Mrs. Larson just outside the cabin, “even when he heard the voices- when he heard Mrs. Larson- telling him to, he didn’t. I don’t think the others blamed you either. You didn’t do anything wrong, Ms. Blackwell, there’s no way you could have known any of this would happen.”
“K… Kate…”
“What?”
“C… Call… Call me… Kate…”
“Aright, Kate,” I let out what little laughter I had left inside me, “so long as we’re the last people we’ll be chatting with, call me Ryan.”
“R… Ryan…”
“If we at all live through this, I’m going to need a long vacation after this,” I said as I turned to look at my shackles again, looking around myself to try finding anything to Get free since a vacation sounded like something to die for at that moment, “do you know any good vacation spots I can book for the fall?”
“Y… You’re… You’re a… Dick…” Kate struggled to laugh.
“I also enjoy pineapple on pizza,” I winked as I reached down to my ankle, ready to break it just to taste that sweet combination of tomato sauce and fruit.
“G… God… I… I c… Can’t… Believe… I th… Thought y… You w… Were c… Cute…”
I sat down on the floor, grabbing my ankle with both my hands. Needing to hype myself up enough to do what I was going to do, I began removing my shoe and sock from the foot, rubbing and squeezing my way up and down the ankle to my toes. I had never broken a bone in my life before this and I definitely never thought I’d do it of my own volition, but this was a desperate time and it definitely called for desperate…
“Wait what?” I turned to look to Kate, finally registering what she had said.
However, just before I could be sure of what I heard, the sound of a hunting rifle going off just above our heads right before we heard the door to the basement swing open and immediately be slammed shut. Both Kate and I turned to see someone stumble down the wooden steps, his clothes torn and body scratched and cut to a nearly deadly degree. I was even shocked he was still breathing.
“M… Mr… R… Raines…?” Kate gasped out.
“What’s left of me at least,” Mr. Raines grumbled as he limped over to Kate and quickly began undoing her straps to the table, “damn thing almost ripped my head off, but one swing of the barrel to its eye and I was able to get away… Can’t say it didn’t do its damage though… I’m… Getting really fucking hungry…”
He shook his head violently before limping over to me. He then raised an eyebrow at me when he saw how I was positioned still on the floor with a bare foot in my hands shackled to the floor.
“I… I was… I… I thought you were-“ I stammered.
“I am,” Mr. Raines interrupted, “at least, I’m on my way there anyway.” He then retrieved my Glock from his back pocket. “I don’t know what that thing did to me, but I’m not gonna make it out of this alive, or the way I came in. It’s a massacre out there by the way. Lot of men in blue bodies out there… Very… Hard to ignore… Sure more will be on their way. So.”
With that, Mr. Raines pointed at my chains and pulled the trigger on my clock, barely giving me time to cover my ears as the sound rung out loudly in the basement. I shook my head, trying to undo the blurry and ringing side effects of the sound of a gun going off near your head. I gave the older man a glare before standing and snatching my Glock from his hands. That’s when I saw Kate shifting herself to the side of the metal table she was no longer tied to, trying to get her limbs to comply with her to help her off and on to the floor.
I ran over and grabbed her just as she nearly stumbled face first to the floor and lifted her up to her feet, her body heavy with lack of keeping herself up.
“Do you think you can walk?” I asked, trying to keep her on her feet.
“I… I don’t… I…” Kate stammered as she tried to push herself off of me while also using using me as a crutch until she could stand on her own. However, she didn’t seem to be able to put any kind of pressure on her legs without falling down.
“Kate?” A girl’s voice called out from above us.
Feeling Kate shudder, I realized that it must have been the sound of Sonja’s voice and Mrs. Larson was using her to keep Kate from running. I quickly swung my arm down behind her knees, pressing the other down on her back as I lifted her up off the floor, my Glock at the ready as I kept it pointed in front of me while my arm held up Kate’s knees.
“She must have heard the gunshots,” I pointed out, “how’d you get past her in the first place?”
“I set the other cabins on fire,” Mr. Raines answered as if it were the simplest of answers, “I had to distract her somehow and give those bodies she’d been eating a better fate than becoming her shit.”
“Are you planning on setting this place on fire too?” I asked.
“‘Course I am!” Mr. Raines exclaimed, seemingly offended I’d even ask. “I already doused it in gasoline, I ain’t wasting all that time!”
“Kate!” Sonja’s voice cried out, getting closer to the basement door. “Are you seriously leaving me here to die alone again!”
“Please… Make it… Stop…” Kate sniffed as she gripped my shirt and burying her face into the fabric.
“Let’s get you two out of here.” Mr. Raines began leading the way to the basement stairs, cocking his rifle as he did so.
“What about you?” I asked, immediately following after him.
Mr. Raines didn’t answer as he stomped up the stairs and kicked the door open to the first floor of the cabin. The stench of the gasoline he had spilled hitting me harshly in my face.
“Kate!” Sonja’s voice, along with a different crescendo of male voices shrieked out as Mrs. Larson appeared from the corner of the hallway where the basement was located.
“Leighton?” A different woman’s voice asked the moment the old woman’s eyes spotted Mr. Raines. I then watched in both shock and confusion as it almost looked like the very skin on the woman melted off to reveal a much younger woman. The woman I recognized as Bonnie Collins. “Leighton… Love is that you?”
Mr. Raines kept his rifle on the vision of the woman he once loved before her murder, but didn’t move or speak.
“Darling, I’ve missed you so much!” The fake Bonnie cried out as she began making her way to Mr. Raines with arms open wide to hug him.
Mr. Raines then lifted his gun up higher, placing his finger on the trigger which caused the vision to stop in her place.
“Leighton?” The fake Bonnie asked. “Baby, it’s me… Bun-Bun… Don’t you recognize me…?” She began to tear up.
“You’re not my Bunny,” Mr. Raines growled before he shot once at the woman.
The fake Bonnie swiftly dodged the bullet, an inhuman hiss coming from an unhinged mouth, revealing a row of long, sharp teeth. The skin of Bonnie then melted off to reveal another woman, a lot younger than the first one it intimidated. The face of one of the victims upon being brought on this case.
“Kate,” the fake Sonja called out, “Kate, what are you doing? Who are these men? Why are they trying to hurt me?”
Kate let out a sobbing gasp, her nails digging into my shoulder with her arm wrapped around my neck.
“Didn’t I suffer enough?” The fake Sonja asked. “First my boyfriend and now you? Why don’t you want to be with me anymore?”
“Shut up!” Kate demanded. “You’re not Sonja! You killed her, you killed all of them! I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not letting their memories end with you!”
Kate then snatched my Glock from my hand under her legs and shot directly at the fake Sonja’s head. Again the shot missed as the fake vision of the girl slithered out of the way, a frustrated growl of a dog and human escaping it’s mouth. It then zipped to the side, cowering with its back to us on the floor.
“Lucky dime…” A child’s voice then took over. The vision’s skin melting now to a much smaller figure. “Is this what you want? To kill me all over again?” He turned to look up at me, Liam’s face forever eight-years-old staring up at me. “It’s no wonder mommy and daddy hate you now… You were always a shitty brother… Now, I’m gonna starve to death because you’d rather help a couple of strangers.”
“I’m sorry, Liam,” I replied, everyone, including the fake Liam looking to me in surprise, “I left you alone out here and that’s what got you killed by that thing out there and I’m sorry. But, if I’d stayed it may have been both of us and then mom and dad would have no one left to blame but each other. If you had left and I was the one killed, you’d probably be in my shoes instead. I’m sorry for letting you get killed, but I’m gonna make up for it now.”
I then took my Glock back from Kate and pointed it to the vision of Liam.
“Good bye, Liam.”
I shot the gun once again, missing the creature again, however, this time I just kept shooting, Mr. Raines following after. Our different bullets just kept firing, the thing dodging and trying to get closer to us. The creature screeched out at us in a myriad of different voices both familiar and unknown. It wasn’t until one shot from my Glock struck the creatures shoulder and Mr. Raines’ rifle struck its head when the skins of everyone it was trying to turn into all melted off, revealing Mrs. Larson once again.
However, this time, she looked shriveled, older than she looked before. Her face looked deformed, beginning to grow furry, her eyes growing nothing but red, no irises, no pupils, just red. Her hair grew longer, branches like antlers growing painfully out from her skull, breaking the skin as they grew larger. The lower half of her face grew elongated, turning into that of a muzzle of fangs and a drooling mouth.
“You… All… Have no rrrrrrriiiiiight!” A different, unknown voice snarled out from what used to be Mrs. Larson. “People liiiiiike you all… Abandoned me and myyyyyyyyy sister!” The fur growing around this thing grew out short and shaggy, the cloths it was using melting off with the skin and flesh it was wearing. It now didn’t look anything like a human woman. It now took the form of a large wolf mixed with that of a deer, it’s body dog-like with hooves, antlers, and a long, scraggly tail. “You lot abandoned us here! You left us all here to diiiiiiiie!”
Guilt was weighing down on me with each syllable it was growling. Kate looked away from it, burying her face in my neck as Mr. Raines lowered his rifle.
“Nooooow, you’re bringing more here to just leave and let die out here!” It went on, it’s horrifying, broken body shuddering. “Why let them just vanish and die up here when they can bring people like my sister and I back? Give me Kate’s heart and fix what you threeeeeeeeee failed!”
Mr. Raines then handed over his rifle to Kate, placing it down on her stomach as her hands were still wrapped around my neck. The older man made his way over to stand over the thing, its neck creaking like a rusted door as it turned its wolf-like head to look up at him.
“Leighton…” Bonnie’s voice came from the creature. “Give mmmmeeeee her heart aaaannnnd we can be togetherrrrr again… If you eat the deeeeeetective’s we can saaaaaave you tooooooo…”
“My Bunny’s dead,” Mr. Raines told it as he dug in his pocket and took out a carton of matches, “and so am I.”
“You’d burn your wife?” A mix of Bonnie and Mrs. Larson’s voices shrieked as it glared at the match he took from the match box.
“You’re not my wife,” Mr. Raines told it, “and I’ll never see her again.”
“Fooooooool,” Mr. Larson’s voice chuckled, “you’llllllll killllllll us both!”
“With the shit I’ve done in my life, I know you’re taking me to Hell with you,” Mr. Raines growled back as he struck the match on the box, “so I’m sure as fuck not afraid to burn here on Earth with you!”
Mr. Raines then dropped the match to the floor right before the creature and everything around the two of them immediately went up in flames, the fur of the creature catching quickly and engulfing it. An agonized shriek echoed out all around us, the creature thrashing in the fire it had gotten swallowed up in. Mr. Raines then grabbed it by it’s long, furry throat and swung it down back flat the floor, jumping to pin it down.
“Get out!” Mr. Raines cried out to me. “Leave here!”
Not needing to be told twice, I held onto Kate tightly and bolted past the two burning bodies, jumping over the fire as it began growing fast throughout the cabin. I quickly got to the front door and stopped to look back to see Mr. Raines fighting the creature and preventing it from coming after us, it begging for me to bring Kate back and that it would die without her.
“I’ll clear your name,” I called back, trying not to reel back in horror as I saw Mr. Raines skin begin to melt off, “I’ll let people know you didn’t kill Bonnie!”
“I’ll let people know you didn’t… Kill… Liam!” Mr. Raines’ voice called back, him thrashing around with Mrs. Larson as he said my brother’s name in my voice.
I turned back and kicked the front door open, rushing Kate out of the burning cabin. I ran until I got far enough from the smoke, turning back to see all three cabins now on fire, the area around them all ablaze. The only place untouched was Mrs. Larson’s house, all the evidence remaining. I could hear sirens in the distance coming closer. The sounds of shouts from the surviving officers sounding much closer.
“I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…”
I looked to the front porch of Mrs. Larson’s house where her recorder continued to call out for her sister. I set Kate down at the base of a nearby tree and ran to snatch the recorder, shutting it off. I searched around, looking for any signs of Prudence, but it appeared that the fire and the sounds of sirens and voices had scared her off. I ran back to Kate, her eyes closed and her not responding to me calling to her, but after checking her pulse and breathing, I found that the medication Mrs. Larson had given her had finally taken over and she was now fast asleep, the rifle Mr. Raines gave her still sitting on her rhythmically rising and falling stomach.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I leaned against the same tree I set Kate down on and slid down to the ground next to her. The first two cabins were already practically nothing but ash, the last still blazing as I heard the slowly fading screams of Mrs. Larson and Mr. Raines coming from inside.
When the screaming ended all together, the smoke turning blacker as it rose from the flames, I got to my feet and took out my pack of cigarettes as I approached the fires, staying far enough away not to get burned. I opened the pack up before stopping myself as I reached for one of the ten remaining cigarettes inside. I then flung the entire carton into the fires without taking one.
“Save one for me down there, you old bastard,” I told Mr. Raines before making my way back to Kate’s side.
It wasn’t long before the remaining officers found us, looking in confusion at the fires and to me with a sleeping victim in a homicide case on the ground. I told them we’d need to call an ambulance for Kate and that we needed to keep the flames from getting to Mrs. Larson’s house as it held evidence on the case. One officer retrieved his radio and called for an ambulance while a group ran to the house and another went to try controlling the fire as best they could by yanking out any bushes near by and throwing them away from the area around the house.
Luckily, the fire trucks were called long before the fire spread too far, residence noticing it practically the moment Mr. Raines set the first cabin on fire.
As I sat there, keeping Kate held up against the tree we sat under, I listened to the crackling of the fire, the sirens of fast approaching fire trucks and the ambulance, and the sounds of distance, coyote, almost human, howling.

Kings’landing, 10th moon, 25 AC
Serala had ventured off into the woods, as she did before. But this time it was different, with Gaelithox by her side. She had asked her male relatives to prepare a fire for her so she could pray in silence. The priestess had worn a simple red cloak that night, along with a red dress underneath.
As the red priestess had approached the nightfire she perched her raven on a rock not too far away. “Stay close now Gaelithox, not even you blend in the darkness.” She smiled, but even that faded away quickly.
The burning pile of wood reflected like that of a shooting star in her eyes, it… spoke to her. Serala bowed her head forward and closed her eyes.
“From the light we came, and from the light we return. Your path has been lit without it ever being extinguished. R’hllorr, the fire in our lungs, the heat on our skin, the light in our heart. The true sun that determines what comes next, for we depend on you and you alone.” Not soon after she collapsed on the ground with her hands blocking her fall, leaning on her shoulders to maintain balance.
She could hear her raven call for her, but she didn’t respond.
“if…” Serala echoed. “If this duty of mine is chosen by you alone, let it not be dull if it’s mean for me, let that fire consume me if it must, but not have me carry this burden all alone.” She screamed. Tears were sobbing from her eyes as she looked directly into the fire. “For I have dedicated my life to you!!”
She felt weak, maybe she was weak.. Serala had been depending on her little sister for any kind of intel, on her mentor for guidance and R’hllor for refuge. Power only resided in her purpose, one that was far greater than she would ever know.
Serala shook her head as if it could detach itself from her body, truly overwhelmed… The shrieking noise could not even be blocked by that of the sound of a Raven.

Op- https://www.reddit.com/WritingPrompts/s/sWJUxDJ0SO
John’s left hand was squeezed white against the wheel of his old pick-up; he held his son, Alex, close with his other.
As they rattled down the uneven country roads, rain pelted their windshield with a fury. John continually glanced into the rearview. Thunder clapped at their back like the hands of god, and through the white flashes of lightning, he could make out a large barrel of rotating black smoke. Each time he looked, it seemed to have grown larger, and one singular thought repeated in his mind.
Make it to the cellar, he thought. Make it to the cellar.
He gripped his son tighter and pressed the accelerator with a heavy foot. The truck roared beneath them.
“Come on…” He muttered. He was driving nearly eighty.
“Dad?” Alex’s voice was small, and John could feel him trembling under his arm.
John rubbed his shoulder. “It’s okay, bud. We’re nearly there; it ain’t gonna get us.” Truthfully, though, he wasn’t sure if he believed the words himself.
“But Dad, I’m scared.”
Just then, a strong gust of wind punched the side of the truck, nearly sending it swerving into the ditch. With a squealing effort, John steadied it and accelerated faster. The boy’s head was now buried into his armpit. Limbs began falling from trees; scattered debris carpeted the roads.
John looked down at his son; he was still wearing his blue Little League uniform. All of this for a damn baseball game, he thought, then looked back at the road. He stomped the brakes. Alex screamed as they lurched forward and John stuck an arm out to keep him from flying into the windshield. The truck skidded sideways to a halt on the wet road. A giant oak tree, maybe eight feet in diameter, lay flat across their path.
“Fuck.” John muttered as he smacked the steering wheel with his palm. There wasn’t any getting around that.
He darted his eyes around wildly, looking for some sort of a solution—anything—but all he found was fear. The swirling column of dark wind was getting closer now, and his options were growing increasingly limited.
Then he noticed something. Just past the downed tree a green mile marker sign glowed back at him—the mile marker sign that’s about a half mile away from their house.
They were closer than they thought.
He grabbed Alex by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “We’re gonna make a run for it.
“What?” Alex asked, his eyes wide with terror.
“I know; I don’t want to either, but it’s our only shot. I—“
“No!” Alex shouted. He tried to say more, but the words just sputtered out in incoherent globs.
“Hey,” John said patiently, but Alex was in hysterics. John looked over his shoulder. Power lines were beginning to fall, and the transformers were popping into big blue sparks as they hit the ground. He looked back at Alex.
“HEY!” He shouted.
Alex stopped immediately and looked at him in surprise. He never yelled.
“Do you trust me?” He asked.
Alex moved his mouth, but no breath came to push the words out.
“Do you trust me?” John asked again, shaking the boy a little.
This time, Alex nodded yes.
“Okay, now listen. I’m going to pick you up, and we’re gonna run. I want you to close your eyes, and I don’t want you to open them until I tell you it’s okay. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded again, and a tear fell down his cheek as he closed his eyes.
John scooped him up and creaked the metal door open into the rain. Lightning continued to snap overhead; there was a metallic smell in the air, like burning wires, and the humidity was thick enough to choke a man.
He held the boy's head against his shoulder and started in a sort of half run to the driveway. Alex felt heavier than he used to, and it made him wonder just how long ago it was since he’d held him that way.
Cold rain whipped at their back, sticking their clothes to their skin like slick velcro. John spat the water from his mouth as he trudged forward blindly in the dark. His muscles started to burn. His feet snagged on branches, trash, and other debris that had blown in, threatening to trip him, and sudden dips or rises staggered him as his foot met only air where he expected solid earth.
John could feel the boy sobbing once more. “We’re almost there; we’re gonna make it.” He panted. This time, he really believed what he said. The driveway came into view as they rounded the last corner.
Limbs the size of cedar trees blew past them like confetti. One cracked John in the back of the head, sending him and Alex tumbling onto the ground. The pain was brilliant. For a moment, he saw white, but his vision quickly cleared, and he looked up at Alex.
Alex sat with his knees tucked to his chest, holding a scrape. His skin and clothes were covered in twigs, mud, and pine needles, and his face was twisted with fright—contorted like one of those dramatic masquerade masks as he rocked back and forth. His eyes were open now.
The twister roared behind them like a gasoline truck chugging up a hill. John scrambled to his feet. He scooped Alex into his arms, and started toward the house once again. His head was pounding, his muscles were on fire, blood was thudding against his ears, and that same thought from earlier continued to swim laps around his mind.
Make it to the cellar.
He pressed on, planting one solid foot into the ground at a time and marching forward like a well oiled machine.
Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he walked down the driveway; wind whipped their wet clothes like flags.
John shed Alex from his arms and looked down at the wooden cellar door. He tried pulling it open, but the wind shoved it back down. It was picking up even more now. Shingles began to be sucked from the roof, and John knew that if he didn’t get this door open, he and Alex would follow closely behind.
He pulled as hard as he could, grunting with the effort. Alex quickly joined him in the struggle, helping as much as a nine-year-old possibly could. It began to come up a little, but the wind was powerful.
John screamed and dug in harder. He had to get it open. He felt his muscles tearing beneath his skin, his joints cracking; he used every single ounce of his strength, and finally the door began to give. He pried it just far enough for them to fit.
“GET IN,” He shouted. The boy jumped inside, and John followed shortly after. The door slammed behind him with a smack that resembled a gunshot.
The cellar was dark. Screws and bolts and toolboxes filled with wrenches and other metal things shook and rumbled off of the shelves. A few baseball bats fell and clinked across the concrete floor. Up top, it sounded like a giant lawnmower was making quick work of the farmhouse, eating it up like it was little more than a stray blade of grass.
John’s head still throbbed, and he could feel warm blood trickling down the back of his neck. He was tired, breathing raggedly, and all of a sudden he had a very strong urge to go to sleep.
They held each other in darkness, sitting there for what seemed like an eternity, but just as quickly as it began, it was over. The roar lessened, quieted, then disappeared as it got further away.
The two looked at each other, both covered in dirt and debris, and John knew that everything was gone. He knew that the house was gone; he knew the farm was gone, and he knew that just about everything else he had ever worked for was torn to shreds in a matter of minutes.
But he looked at Alex, and when he saw the twinkle of life in his son’s eye, he breathed a sigh of relief. That was all that mattered. They sat for an hour in silence, not daring to step out until they were sure it was safe.
Eventually, rays of light began to beam through the cracks in the cellar door. John was the first to move. He walked to the door, flung it outward and shielded his squinted eyes to look outside.
The sky was blue. He hoisted himself upward and poked his head out.
His barn was still there. Bessie, his cow, was standing beside it, chewing on a mouthful of grass; all of the chickens strutted around the side of the barn, nearing the garden, which also looked untouched; the squash was even blooming. Behind him, their house stood tall, perfectly intact all the way up to the shingles.
The oddest thing of all was his farm pickup parked in the driveway—no worse shape than when they left for the ballgame.
John scratched his head.
“Dad?” Alex shouted.
“You can come up.” He said, puzzled.
Alex crawled out of the cellar in the same fashion as his father, and confusion dawned on his face as well. “It missed us?”
John shook his head. “No way it coulda missed us. I don’t really know what to make of it.”
He really didn’t. They saw the twister coming directly at them; they heard the house ripped to shreds right above their heads; the farm truck didn’t make it back to the house at all, for Christ's sake. It just didn’t make any damn sense.
A feminine voice called out to them—a voice John recognized at the first syllable. “John? Alex?”
“Vick..” He mouthed and whipped his head around. A tall woman with blonde hair was walking around the side of the porch, stepping as gracefully as a doe. Her eyes were as green as the pines behind her, and she gave a smile that held more reassurance than a million words could express.
She spread her arms wide. “My boys.” She said. John stood motionless, his mouth slightly agape. Alex pushed past him as he ran, “Mommy!” He shouted.
The woman wrapped the boy in a hug and lifted him from his feet. As she held his head against her shoulder, she pointed her eyes in John’s direction and held out her other hand.
He walked toward her, cautiously.
“John.” She said. “It’s me, I promise.”
John looked at her for a moment longer. He wanted to run to her, to wrap her up and lift her the same way she did Alex. For the past two years, there had been nothing in this world that he’d wanted more.
But his wife was dead. He watched as the cancer took her in 2014; he held her in his arms as she died in the hospital bed, yet there she stood—healthy and as real as the sun beating down on his neck. He reached a hand to the back of his head, feeling for the place where the branch whacked him.
But there was nothing—not even a tender spot.
He looked back up at his wife. “Are we…”
“Hush, dont think about it like that, John.” She smiled, “We’re together now.”
John staggered a little, staring down at his hands; his once farm hardened callouses were gone now, smoothed over with soft, healthy skin.
“I—“ He began.
“Get over here and hug me.”
He looked up; his wife looked back at him lovingly with her direct, green eyes, and for the first time in so long, he felt happy. A feeling he’d grown a stranger to. A grin tightened across his face, and he walked toward Vick as their old golden retriever ran panting toward them from across the yard, just like she used to, only now; she had all four of her legs.

I’ve got my surgery for my left hip scheduled for Tuesday June 4th, a labral repair and CAM impingement correction, (small chance of a labral reconstruction but the surgeon says there’s a high chance it’s repairable). But my question is I’ve got lots of supplements and peptides ready for post surgery including: Tumeric Collagen peptides Glucosamine Chondroitin + MSM Arnica cream Glycine BPC-157 + TB-500 (The Wolverine stack)
While most of those are oral or cream, BPC-157 and TB-500 will have to be injected near the site (I assume I’ll do the left glute as my injection zone) I’ve heard amazing things about stacking those two peptides together from people I know who have had labral repairs (shoulder though) among other various injuries to speed up the healing process tremendously, does anyone have any thoughts, advice, or opinions, this will be my first time working with these peptides.

Hi I just came across a novel, chosen by the moon novel by izabella W. Its on pay by chapter websites, I've opened and read a few chapters but I can't seem to find any free version or chapter version anywhere. Please help. If anyone has read it I'm willing to take spoilers. Here's the advert I found below of it on Facebook.
Lycanthrope species is a disgusting race. And I, Delan Riley, am nothing more than a human scum in their eyes never expected those species would turn my world upside down. Since when the lycans managed to penetrate our town, like in the early 1900's we have a hierarchy, upper class = the lycans, middle class = mated humans, and lower class = the normal humans, who were basically considered scum. I endured their torment day after day, vowing to run away from them one day, until that day came and everything changed.
Dylan POV "Humans," I scowled at the principal's words from tannoy. "The Alpha twins will be celebrating their birthday tomorrow, as such, festivities are in order." Oh great, the Alphas twin children. Adrian and Arya are the worst lycans alive. I swear just because they are the alphas kids they literally get away with everything. If their birthday is tomorrow, then the wolves are going to be worse than ever. "All students will be present to greet them, two lines will be made, with humans on the left and the lycanthrope on the right. Any mated human will be at the front of the line for their year, you will all also be in order of your school year. That is all." Chat broke out the minute the tannoy was finished. "We haven't had a school gathering since the alpha king visited three years ago, before his sons coronation." Nick was right, the last time we all gathered like that was for the king and queens visit, when he decided to let the world know that he was to renounce his title to his only child, son Josh. "That sick bestard, he wants to make sure everyone is there so those idiot twins can find their mates." Yes I was mad, my fists connected with the table in front of me once more as I thought about how disgusting the situation was. You see the twins will be turning 17, so it's very possible someone in our school could be their mate, finding a mate is sacred to a wolf, the minute they say that one word your fate is sealed. They will turn your mind, morph you into being a lover of their kind, and then you'll give in.

That won't happen to me, I'm growing old to see the world as it once was, and I'm going to choose who I'll be with. No one will take that dream away from me.

Once dinner was finished, I just wanted to sleep. I'd had a very long tiring day, I quickly sat down on a small stool my mother kept in the storage closet and removed my shirt while my brother Freddy sat at the table to do his simple homework. It wasn't long before my mother came in with a large bowl of warm salt water and some cotton, this was going to sting I just knew it. She was here to help me with the wounds caused by wolves yesterday. She slowly began to unwrap the bandage from around my torso and slowed down drastically when it came to the final layer, I felt it peel off every wound and my fists clenched in pain. "Jesus!" I heard my mom exclaim once the dressing was completely removed. The air on my back was nice though and I sighed as my arm covered my once again exposed brests. "This is more than 15!" I began to hear sniffles coming from her and sighed turning round to look at her face, only to notice tears streaming down it. "Mom I'm fine, it's alright." She shook her head. "It's not alright, I'm your mother I shouldn't let these things happen. I'm so sorry. Your father would have..." here she goes again. Every single time something happened she'd always bring up dad, it really annoyed me because no matter how much we all wish he was here, he just isn't. My father was kiled by THEIR kind, almost 5 years ago when they actually managed to take over. When the lycans managed to penetrate our town my father rose up with some people from the neighborhood, to defend our livelihood, it was futile to say the least. We lost many people and I watched as my dad was ripped apart by two fully shifted wolves, I ended up shoting him to stop his suffering before they dragged me to the courtyard, i was the person to receive the first lashing of the town when I was 12! The wolves have been pretty strict with me since that day. "Stop being stvpid!" Was I harsh? Definitely! Did she need to hear it again, absolutely. "Dad is dead, we don't know what he'd do because he never knew this life. He never knew this world." I know what he'd have done, most likely attacked the guy who held the whip and got himself kiled in the process. "The best thing you can do for me, is stop crying and help me, next time don't insist on helping if you can't handle it." She began to wash my open wounds with the warm salt water causing loud winces to leave me, I knew it was necessary to prevent infection, but my god it hurt like a betch. "Some of these are really deep Dylan!" She sniffed again and my eyes rolled in my head. "I told you, I'm fine, just wrap me back up so I can get to bed." My mom was obviously more impacted by my injuries than I was, I suppose that always the case though. When it's happening to you, you've just got to get through it but when it's happening to someone you love, you just want to take their pain away. She quickly placed a fresh bandage around my waist and chest and wrapped it tightly for compression. The bowl of water that was used was now red in color, I guess from the blood my back was dripping with. "Can you keep your head down please? At least just this week. You can't take any more lashings." I simply nodded before standing up away from the stool, I walked over to Freddie and ruffled his hair in affection. "Good night squirt." He giggled and fixed his hair slightly. "Night Dilly." I smiled walking upstairs to my little bedroom, as soon as I was inside i shut the door and flopped down on to my bed on my stomach and I took a minute to cry to myself at the pain in my back, what my mom did was important but it hurt, not that I'd ever tell her. My hand covered my mouth quickly to muffle any noise I might be making. I couldn't tell anyone, I had to be strong because more and more people were crumpling these days, and my mom would break if she knew how much I was suffering. Sleep followed me shortly after, she was right though about me needing to keep my head down for the time being, I could not take another lashing! After a long night and an even longer morning, we were all finally stood in the hallway at school waiting for the twins to arrive. "Mine!" Everyone that was stood in the hallway tensed up, as we were seniors, me and Nick were stood towards the very back of the human line. All the mated people were situated directly opposite their wolf mates in their years. We stayed silent and still as Arya walked down the hall and stopped directly in front of Nick. His eyes widened in fear, unsure of wether to look up or keep his head lowered. "Look me in the eye, mate." He glanced at me slightly as if asking what he should do. "I said, look me in the eye." He slowly moved his eye line up to look at her face. I took a glance myself to see her eyes pitch black with lust. "I... can't... I mean... erm." Before he was able to mutter anything else, two wolves from opposite, grabbed him out of the line and dragged him behind Arya. "Hey!" My head shot up before I could stop myself. My mouth also forgot its place as I jumped out of line. Everyone's head shot to me as my eyes widened in realization at what I'd done. Adrian, the other twin, walked up to me before punching me right in the stomach, I doubled over instantly. Feeling the sting in my slightly healed back. "I know you... You were publicly flogged only two days ago." God I hate this guy. "I also have it on good authority, that you openly spoke out against our rules and regulations in yesterday's class." My head shot down the line slightly to see Erin, looking a little frightened, her mate, the beta to be was looking at her, nodding his head in reassurance. "You traitor, you grassed on your own kind?" I yelled at her before feeling a fist connect with my cheek. My head whipped to the side from the force, while my class members gasped. I'm so done with this treatment, right then, I wasn't in charge of my actions. My fists curled up and my stance became a lot more defensive. My head snapped up to the alpha to be, and I looked him in the eye. "You don't know the meaning of the word disrespect." I suddenly hurled my fist towards his head, which he easily dodged, but my foot came up and kicked him instead. He stumbled backwards from the force with wide eyes. "You... you Actually hit me!" He didn't even sound annoyed, more shocked. Everyone in the hallway was watching, waiting for the alpha to do something but instead he simply stood up straight, regaining his composure. "I think everyone should get back to class." He began to walk away, following his sister when I called him back. "What about Nick?!" "Simple, He's my sisters mate. He now belongs to her." Argh, he's not an object. "He's not her property." A chuckle left his mouth, before turning his back to me again. "All humans are property." A short while later everyone made it to science class, our teacher Mrs Mathews is mated to the lycans pack doctor, she also now has a four and two year old with him. She was one of the first humans to be cohered into a false relationship. "What were you thinking young lady?" I rolled my head at her before looking at the empty seat next to mine. Nick was with that stvpid wolf girl right now. Being changed, I'm so angry it's ridiculous. "I was thinking, this guy is being a prick. Did you hear him? 'All humans are property.' It's bull shet." I looked up and the whole class looked at me like I had three heads. Talking shet about wolves is one thing, but talking about an alpha is punishable by death, attacking an alpha is an even worse offense. There was then a knock at the door and in walked Erin and her band of mated bestards. "Sorry we're late Mrs." "Erin, how are things between you and bata Monroe?" She blushed, the traitor actually blushed at the mention of his name. "He spoke to me last night about trying for a baby. We need a good strong boy to take over as beta." I scoffed looking at her as she took her seat. "You guys are actually pathetic, why can't it be a girl? Those mutts are basically Neanderthals" I voiced my opinion and saw all the shocked faces around me. Calling the lycans mutts, is the same as them calling us scum. After lesson had ended the entire school was called into the hall for assembly. This is where any human who has been found to have broken the rules were punished, usually 10 lashings were goven out or something similar. "Welcome to the school assembly, congratulations to the alpha twins for finding both your mates. Now on to the business at hand, as the 5 year anniversary of the new world is coming up, we have been informed that the alpha king will be visiting our district next week, this is very exciting news. We want you all to look your absolute best, she wolves and mated females will wear exemplary dresses made by seamstress. Male wolves and mated men will wear tailored suits. Anyone who doesn't comply will be reprimanded." The Alpha King?! No one has met him yet, he took over the throne three years ago when he turned 18. He really didn't make any appearances though, great, this month is going to be a nightmare. "As for the humans, you will be given a new uniform to wear for the visit, these are to be neatly ironed and worn to the highest standard. As for the following humans, based on your attitude this past week, you will be coming to the front and facing punishment. Tony summerset?!" Tony's head shot up as he looked around, he was in the year below but he shared my views when it came to the lycans. He slowly walked up to the front of assembly, almost instantly his top was t0rn in two and he received 10 lashings. A girl named Kara was next and she too received 10 lashings. A few more people went up slowly accepting their fate then suddenly my name was called. "Dylan Riley." Inside I was terrified but I simply shrugged my shoulders, I guess I did kind of expect this. Although I'm not sure if my back can take any more damage. "You attacked an alpha, correct!" His eyes bored into mine as I bowed my head submitting to his authority. "Technically, no." Everyone in the school gym looked on in fear, as my head moved to the front row of the wolf side. Adrian sat, with a werewolf girl in the year below, her name was Jana, I guess he found his mate. Nick and Arya were no where to be seen though. Adrian gave me a shrug as if to say he didn't tell, before smirking at my comment. "He hasn't officially taken the alpha title yet, so he's just..." i looked at the principle and noticed his eyes black and his claws out, he was in what lycans call a half shift, triggered when the subject has become angered. He turned to two security wolves and gave them a nod, Almost immediately i was forced onto my knees, my arm was slammed on a table and held in place by one wolf, while my body was held in place by the other. "Ok, I don't think this is needed, I have alpha blood, a stvpid human girl can't hurt me." My head snapped to Adrian who had stood up in front of the school to stop what was happening. "Nevertheless, humans need to know their place." With that the pressure on my arm increased as our principals hand pulled my sleeve up before a long claw punctured my skin. The searing pain shoting from the fresh wound had my eyes scrunched and my fist clenched, I bit the inside of my cheek hard instantly tasting blood, however no sound left my mouth. He continued to write, using my skin as a canvas and his claws as a marker, it went on forever, my vision blurred slightly at one point as I turned my head away. After minutes of torture, he was done and the pressure on my arm eased, instantly I snatched my arm away, hissing through my teeth at the pain. I was about to scurry off stage, when I was roughly grabbed yet again, my arm being held in the air by the principal while my feet were inches off the floor, blood dripped from the wound and the pattern he had made was on show for everyone to see. Loads of people gasped, even the wolves looked slightly horrified at what had happened. "This is what happens when a human decides to speak out. I can promise, anyone who so much as says one word about our way of life, will have the same punishment." My arm was starting to seriously ache from being held in the air for so long, and the lack of blood flow to my suspended arm was causing me pins and needles, still I refused to make a sound. I held the tears back and I bit my cheek harder causing more blood to fill my mouth. "That's enough Bradley!" Adrian growled, he was still stood up and looking at the scene in front of him. His eyes hard as he stared at the principal a low warning growl erupted from his chest which had the head teacher gulping, he quickly let go of my arm causing me to crash to the floor. A small cry left my mouth as I hit the hard floor. Immediately I scrambled away, my foot just missed the high step leading to the stage and I fell, waiting for the impact of the ground, but it never came. Two strong arms wrapped around me catching my weak body causing me to look up, my eyes widened as I noticed Adrian had caught my falling form. "This isn't part of the human punishment program!" Adrian growled causing me to tense in his grip, I pushed him away from me before fixing my uniform top. The room was deadly silent, taking in the scene in front of them, while I stole a glance at my forearm. Carved into my skin by his devastating claws were two words, words that would most definitely scar my body for life. 'Human scum' "Lessons must be learned, she received lashing merely two days ago, and clearly it had no effect on her." Another growl left Adrian's chest as he stepped on to the stage, I wasn't bothered though, you would think I'd be ashamed but I simply smiled slightly. I fixed my sleeve a little so it wouldn't rub on the fresh wound before speaking. "It doesn't matter," the whole room looked at me shocked by my attitude. "I would rather be labeled human scum, than have any resemblance to your kind. I'm proud of what I am, how many of you can say that?" After my amazing little speech, I walked right down the middle between the humans and lycans and out the door. No more compliance, I'm going to get away with as much as I can without getting into too much bother. There will come a day when the lycans power will fizzle out. When it does I'll be ready, I'll be waiting for the day we take our world back. As for the best part about my plan...

No one can stop me.

"Ouch, not so hard." I seethed as the school nurse cleaned my new wound with antiseptic. "If you had of just kept your mouth shut, this wouldn't have happened." I turned to my right looking out the window at the few clouds that were floating in the blue sky. "Like I said, I'm proud to be human, and now everyone knows what I am." I clenched my fist together as the nurse began wrapping a bandage around my forearm. It had been a good few hours since the incident in the hall, and I had been forced to come to the nurces office after I had tried to clean my wound by splashing it with water from the tap, it also refused to stop bleeding. "You are impossible. Can you please just try and stay out of trouble? For one day, that's all I ask." Our school nurse is a wolf, she's one of them. However she hates the way they treat us mere humans, she thinks we should all just live in peace with equal rights. Like that would ever happen. "All I've done is stay out of trouble, but you are just going to humiliate me anyway, so what's the actual point?" "The pack were discussing a public execution, Dylan. You need to walk on egg shells from now on, not just for you but for your family as well." No ones been publicly executed in over 4 months, I'm flattered they're considering it. They only execute people who they believe are the biggest problems to society. "Well then... I'm flattered." I chuckled, before looking at the patch job. 'Huh, not too shabby.' I quickly stood up from the human nursing station and pulled the sleeve of my shirt down covering the evidence of ever being hurt. "This is serious!" I just gave her a blank look before leaving the room. On the way out I heard her call back to me. "Please just think about it." I gave a clipped nod as I walked away wondering how I'm going to tell my mom about this. Later in the evening... "Dilly why you say that?" Freddie looked up at me with a mouth full of bread. "Don't speak with your mouthful!" My mom scolded him as a bashful blush made its way to his cheeks. "Sowwy mommy." His reply was muffled as he swallowed the last chunk of food. "I said it Freddie, because it's the truth. The wolf race are a pathetic excuse for..." my mom cut me off with an extremely stern look. "Dylan! They have ears everywhere, one more word out of you and it's your room." I scowled, my hatred for the Lycan kind growing stronger as each day passes. "What more can they do to me, lash me? Beat me? Brand me? They've ran out of options." I stated slamming my hands down, then severely regretting it as sharp pain shot though my wound. "What was that?" My head shot to regard my mothers worried expression. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were dull and judging as she looked at me. "Nothing, it was nothing." I quickly took my plate in my hand and began to walk to the kitchen. "I'm not really hungry, and I have homework to do!" My mom caught hold of my forearm causing me to drop my plate suddenly, I watched it slowly fall before shattering on the floor. I retracted my arm quickly and turned to Freddie. "Stay there and don't move until it's cleaned up ok sport?" He just nodded with wide eyes, I turned back to my mom and noticed her curious stare on my arm. Her grip shifted to the other side as she turned it around before pulling my sleeve up. The bandage was showing and a bit of blood was seeping though after the wound had been disturbed. "What the hel happened?" My moms eyes widened as she began to fumble with the bandage. Before she could unravel any of it I snatched my arm away. "I had an accident at school. No big." I began to gather the large pieces of the broken plate up ready to put them in the bin. "What did you do Dylan?" She looked at me with pure worry and only then did I realize what the wound must look like to someone who didn't know. "For gods sake! I didn't do it to myself! I got publicly punished at the assembly alright? It's no big deal." Her face dropped instantly and she stepped towards me, causing me to step backwards. "Mom, I'm ok. So back off will you." "What did you do? I've never known them to cut someone's arm as a punishment." Her shock and accusation was evident in her voice and I sighed heavily. "I spoke against the alphas son." I may have hit him too, but I wasn't going to divulge that part to her. "It's not one big cut, mom, it's a brand, 'human scum' carved onto my arm." "They've branded you now too?!" My eyes rolled at her hurt tone as I went to get the dustpan and brush. "You're so much like your father." A sigh left her mouth as she spoke, running a hand through her hair, while I quickly swept up the little pieces of the broken plate. "You've had a new uniform delivered. It's laid out on your bed. Dylan, Please just try and stay respectful in the future, I don't want my daughter to be completely mutilated. Although you're not far off." "Gee, Thanks." I then walked over to my little brother Freddy before blowing a kiss into his neck and hearing him giggle. "So sport, how's school going?" "It's ok." He shrugged before going back to coloring a dinosaur picture in. "Well that's good, stay out of trouble, ok little man?" Heading upstairs and into my room, my thoughts wandered to the permanent graffiti scar very slowly healing on my arm. Disgusting beasts. Think they own the world because they're faster, stronger and can shift. Pah. If you ask me they are not all that.

The second I walked into my room my mouth dropped open. On my bed was some grey pants laid out neatly, which wasn't the surprising part, no, what shocked me was the grey high neck no sleeved button down shirt, every single set of uniform had sleeves except this one. They've done this on purpose those, mutts. They want the world to see my arm and know what a disgusting creature I am. They want the world to know that I, Dylan Riley, am nothing more than 'human scum'.

During the last week, I've been horrible, in class I've been loud in voicing my views, I've insulted at least everyone to some degree, I didn't care about the consequences, and I certainly didn't think about them. I haven't seen Nick at all since he was claimed, and to make matters worse today was the royal visit. Oh yes, werewolves and mated humans alike were spending every waking minute preparing themselves to meet his royal majesty, king of the wolves. Unclaimed Humans however would rather stick pins in their eyes. "Dylan, get down now... you're going to be late." She was right, I was dawdling this morning, I really couldn't be bothered today, I gave myself one last look in the small mirror and sighed when my eyes met my newly uncovered brand. It had bad bruising around the letters, and was still extremely tender to touch, it was definitely healing now though. I made my way down the stairs and came face to face with my mother who was seeing to Freddie, she was helping my brother get his coat on when she turned to me. "You ready sport?" Freddie nodded his little head at me and smiled while I quickly slid my shoes on. "Just Remember, the alpha is bad enough, Dylan, please, please don't do anything to anger the king." My mother stopped us from walking out the door to tell me something she had been telling me continuously for the last couple of days, it was almost as if the entire human population of our district was expecting me to do something stvpid. "Try and have a good day." I rolled my eyes but nodded, even I know not to push the king, he could kil me in the hallway like it was nothing. In fact I plan on staying out of his way for the entirety of the day. "We will see you tonight mom." I stated before me and my brother began our walk to school, his little hand clutched my own tightly as we went. Usually Nick would be with us, as he lives next door, well he used to, now he's residing in the main pack house. I quickly dropped Freddie off at his school and watched him get the wolfsbane neutralizer before walking into him building giving me a small wave before he went in. With my new scar on complete show, and my figure being complimented by the skin tight shirt I was wearing, I sauntered down the street to school, I gave my name and year in and took the wolf's bane neutralizer injection with no problems at all. It was finally getting into school that the problem occurred. Walking through the halls I was met by many looks, some of pity some of disgust. You see every single non mated human in the school was wearing a long sleeved version of the uniform I was given. All the Wolves and mated couples were scattered around in fancy floor length dresses or tailored suits. As I turned the corner I noticed a couple, now this couple happened to catch my eye the most out of all of them because it consisted of Arya and Nick, eating each other's faces off. "What the hel!" Nicks head shot to me as his eyes widened. He too was dressed in a tailored suit, a navy blue tie hung on his neck to match Aryas dress. Why was this happening all the time? It's always my friends that get completely brain washed. I shook my head in disbelief before turning my back on him. I heard his fast footsteps behind me as I rounded the corner. "Dylan?!" He ran right in front of me, stopping me in my tracks, making me drop my bag off my shoulder and almost causing me to bump into him. "Let me just explain..." "Has she marked you?" I mean you could almost see it in his eyes, she had marked him, and knowing the way life goes he's probably even mated with her. "Actually... Don't even answer that." I aggressively picked my bag up off of the floor and stormed off down the hall. "Dylan, just listen to me, Erin was right, it's so hard to resist your soulmate, and Arya is actually ok once you get to know her." I just kept walking, he caught up to me walking beside me but it didn't matter, I completely ignored everything and everyone. 'I'm so not in the mood today' getting into class was good though, I said hello to Mr Foley and took my usual seat. Nick sighed then took his bag off ready to sit next to me, but I snapped before he had the chance. "Traitors and mated idiots sit on that side of the room." I didn't look him in the eye as I pointed to a seat right at the front of the classroom on the opposite side. His eyes widened as he turned his attention back to me. "You can't be serious Dylan." I gave him a blank look before grabbing my book out of my backpack, I placed it on the desk then began to write the date on the top line. "I've sat in this seat for as long as I can remember." I ignored him, his voice sounded sad and shocked. "Dylan? Wait! What is that?!" Before I could react Nick had grabbed hold of my branded arm and turned it to see the letters. "Oh my God! What happened?" I snatched my arm away from him and shrugged as I continued to write in my book before grabbing my water bottle out of my bag. "The principal happened, it was my punishment for speaking out against Adrian and Arya. I wear it with pride." He just held a complete look of disbelief. "You spoke out against them?" I shrugged, what did he think I'd do. "It's no secret that I despise this stvpid new world and the mutts that control it. You were my friend, I wasn't going to let them just take you without saying something, although that is exactly what you seem to have done. Enjoy the view from your new seat!" "Don't be like that, Dylan, I'm your best friend, I'm sorry about your arm, but..." my eyes rolled inside my head at my friends words. "Anything with the word 'but' in, isn't an apology, it's a rationalization." I took a drink of water from my bottle and kept my eyes facing forward, ignoring his every attempt to try and talk to me. "Dylan?.. Dylan?... Do you know what? Erin is right, if you push us all away you won't have any friends left." He huffed before walking over to the empty seat and sitting down, I could feel him glancing up at me every now and again but I didn't respond. "Good morning class, please settle down." He looked at me then at Nick and frowned, we've never sat apart, we were friends before the new world even began. I just shook my head telling him to forget it. "So... as you know the king will be arriving in a short while, but until then lessons will go on as normal." Its funny seeing teachers in the same uniform your wearing, mr Foley and his wife are the coolest. Human teachers and doctors only have slightly more respect than we do. Because of Mr Foley's status him and his wife have better access to food and drink, Mrs Foley is cool, sometimes she even makes sure mr Foley brings some in for me. Ya know, coz I'm their favorite student. It's not in a weird way, it's just they were friends of the family before the new wold took effect. Mr Foley and my dad were buddies from high school, so it goes without sayin really. "All the mated humans will be at the front of each years line again, after that you will all be placed in status, Nick, as your mated to Alpha Arya, you'll be at the front of your line. Dylan as you have been branded..." his voice trailed off as he looked at me. "Yeah yeah, I'll be at the back of the line behind everyone. I get it." I huffed, moving my sight towards the window once more. "I am sorry." I turned to face Mr Foley again, he looked genuinely upset and that look of pity wasn't something I wanted to see. I gave him a clipped nod then turned away again. "Anyway, on to the subject matter, 'Of Mice and Men, page 64, Nick why don't you start us off with the reading."

"Of course sir." Nick began reading the book but I switched off, today is going to be a long day. After almost an hour and a half of reading comprehension, the bell chimed signaling lunch. I shot up and out of the classroom before anyone could say anything. Today, I was avoiding drama like the plague.

I wandered the corridors straight to the lunch hall. All the people I would normally hang out with we're all mated so I grabbed my lunch quickly, and sat down at the end of the human table. Let me lay the lunch hall out for you. On one side of the room you have two long rows of tables, with simple benches that make it look like prison, on the other side of the room you have multiple round tables with fancy chairs. Yup you get it. The humans sit at the prison tables and the wolves and traitors sit on the fancy tables, they get fancy food, fancy drink and most importantly they get pudding. what I would give to have some pudding. "Dylan can we just talk?" Nick quickly took the spot next to me as he set his lunch tray down. I looked at his food which had been placed on a ceramic, circular white plate. God that looked good. I sighed knowing he was going to talk anyway. "Fine, you have two minutes." I used my fork to take a bit of pasta off his plate and shoved it into my mouth. God that was good. "After I left school, I was taken to the pack house with Arya, and I really got to know her. It took a few days for me to finally accept being with her, but ever since life has been ok, and the sax... well that's a whole other story." Eww, I didn't need that mental image in my head. "I'm glad your happy." I stated before deciding I had no appetite. His face held shock before he sighed in relief. "That means a lot Dylan, I mean you know that your opinion matters to me." I cut him off before he could say anything else. "I said I was glad your happy. I didn't say I approved of what you've done. You've basically turned into one of THEM, I can't ever forgive you for that." He looked hurt, but I couldn't care less about his feelings. He placed his hand gently on my arm and went to open his mouth when a growl sounded out. All heads whipped to where it came from, Arya was stood holding a glass of soda and a plate, she was looking right at me and Nick and I would totally be dead if looks could kil. Nick quickly retracted his hand, his whole face fell and you could see sorrow flood his irises. "You sit with me now, get away from that, that... scum!" Wow, Nick was such a lucky guy. NOT. "You heard her. Get away from me, go sit with your new friends. I'm happy for you, and I understand where your coming from, but don't come up to me again and pretend you didn't betray your own kind. Don't pretend you didn't betray me." I shoved a little bit of food into my mouth before standing up and walking out of the cafeteria, leaving my tray on the table. I was walking through the hallway to the classroom, you see I decided to spend lunch with Mr Foley in his room, when I happened to hear voices in the corridor. "Is it wise for her to actually be present when the king arrives? Surely she could be placed in the dungeons, it might actually teach her some respect?" My principal was speaking to the alpha of our district, huh, if I stayed and listened do you think they'd notice, maybe they could smell me?! "Everyone is to be present, if the Riley girl does one thing out of line she will be dealt with severely, child or not. That girl has been a blight to the district since day one, she's dangerous, if she puts one hair out of place I will personally break her into submission." Oh shet, they were talking about me specifically, and they mentioned the dungeon, that's not been used in months. Normally I would have listened in more but something about the entire situation didn't sit right with me, all of a sudden, I was on edge, and simply wasn't interested in the slightest in hearing how my misery was to be enhanced. I backed up slightly before turning around and bumping head first into one of the hottest man I had ever seen. I lost my balance immediately and fell straight on to the floor letting out a small grumble in the process. His eyebrows knitted together quickly and his breath hitched in his throat as he looked upon my fallen state and gasped. "Mate!" He whispered, his eyes fixated on mine. Now, I had seen and heard that many times to know what that means, I gasped before taking a step back. 'No, no, no, no, no. This can not be happening.' He growled slightly before stepping towards me. Oh Shet!

I know all of you like to tell your scary stories, I like them too. Way back when my voice was still high-pitched I knew a man who told the scariest stories you'd ever hear, well he wasn't a human exactly, but he sure was a man. A good man by estimation, but you can be the judge of that. See, my mama used to live way down in the rural bits of Texas. Ain't nothing much down there 'sides toads and mosquitos. Fireflies would light up the night sky, and once in a while you'd see a couple eyes comin' up from the water. We lived in a small house, a bedroom, a kitchen, nothing special, but nothing shameful neither. It was just me and mama, papa left a long time ago, mama says he was out on the lake and got eaten by one of them gators. I believed it, he was always drunk and on a tear. He'd go out into the reeds until they got as high as his head. He was big a fella, too. That man'd go out there and throw meat to the alligators, meat my mama said we couldn't afford. And he'd come back scratching from the mosquitos and what else was in those high reeds. He'd stumble into the house and fall asleep somewhere round the door.
None of that may seem wholly pertinent, but it will be, just give it some time. I was outside one evening, mama was asleep. Mama was a hard sleeper, I think she grew up by a train track - Chicago she said, mama was a city girl that came out to the country to raise a big family. It was just me though, I never asked why, but it was always just me. It was a gorgeous evening, the ones you see in those little photo booklets that advertise how beautiful the town is. Fireflies dotted the sky, and a big yellow moon lit the whole way down to the lake. As much as a lake as you could call it, the critters sure did like the water. Bugs, frogs, gators, big and little fish; you could stick a net in the water and be sure something'd be stuck in there.
So, I walked throught the reeds, taking little chunks off the ones nearest me so I could find my way back. It was just a straight walk, but you try walking in a straight line when you're blind. You'll end up going in a circle - I think that's why they say we have a circulatory system. As I'm just near the water, pullin' reeds, and swattin' mosquitos, I see a kid with a lantern, about my height. The lantern was half the size of his body, big flame in the middle of glass, the orange waves danced and flickered lighting everything it touched, and casting shadows where it didn't. The kid beckoned me too him: "Hey, come here" he said. Well, it wasn't a kid, it was a very adult voice. "Little person" I thought, that's what they liked to be called. Just the same I didn't feel too comfortable approaching a man I didn't know.
"Come here, it's all right." And he beckoned again. Something about him, seemed - familiar. I didn't need much convincing, I headed over to him, and he gestured with his hand for me to sit. I sat, and he sat beside me. Wasn't much of a man either, he had a bulbous yellow eyes that searched around and never found anything. Big lips, red splotches just about everywhere. He was fat too, well not quite fat, but somehow, inflated. He was barefoot, and smelled like old hamburgers. I breathed through my mouth, and waited for him to speak again.
"I've got tell you a story about that house you're living in" he said. He paused, just waiting for it to sink in. Somewhere I was livin'. Now, I loved my house, and I loved my mama, but there weren't nothing worth telling a story about there. And everyone in town knew about papa, so it couldn't be that.
"Just me and my mama here" I replied, shifting a bit on the dirt as the small tide lapped close to my sneakers, the shadows from the lantern playing on the water. I had my eyes fixed on the water, always expecting a couple of eyes and a big alligator mouth.
"Just hold on there, I've been around this place a long time, I might know something you don't." He waited again, his eyes whirling, and his hands shuffling around the dirt, like he was lookin' for something on either side.
"Okay, go ahead then."
"There's a woman in that house, sometimes thin, sometimes big. Sleeps heavy, talks about the trains in Chicago"
"That's my mama"
"It is?"
"yes sir"
"She good to you?"
I hesitated. Mama was good, but she was rough sometimes. Sometime she'd get sick, and, well, irrational. She'd yell about how people in the house tryin' to talk to her, wanted to 'get' her. Eventually she'd tire herself out, and then she was a sweet mother then. Cooked the best beef stew you'd ever had, I never had any other beef stews, but her's was real good all the same: "yeah, she's good" I said.
The little man waited again, then continued on: "Well, maybe I'm talkin' about another woman. I couldn't know, your mama seems a wonderful gal."
"Tell me the story" I said. My fingers were tapping on the ground, along the dancing shadows, under that big yellow moon. I could hear the plop of a fish flying out out of the water and right back in. That siren eek of a mosquito came by my air and I shooed it away. And I looked at the water, where it was lit by the flame I could still see the little man. His eyes still whirling, his hands still digging.
"Well, some woman lived in that house. And she had a husband, handsome fellow, maybe a little too hard on the bottle, but he got done what needed to be done. For years the two of them would talk about havin' kids, and it just never happened, well almost never. Don't worry - I'll get to that. Now I want go too into the details because you're so young, but boy did those two try. And sometimes, like woman do when they're ready to become mamas, she'd get nice and big. Then she'd get thin again. Now, her husband was confused to say the very least. His wife'd cry, say the child was taken by the Lord, and they'd continue on about their lives, alone, in that little house by the lake. But funny enough how God works, like a miracle, when they were at their saddest - plenty would come in. See, the woman had a sister from the city who'd send her big packages full of meat and she'd make that meat into a nice stew. Sometimes they even had a little extra, you know what they'd do with it?"
I paused, I knew, I heard the stories. "He'd go throw it to the alligators"
"You're right, he'd throw it right to the alligators, now I don't know if gators can taste spice, but if they can they're mighty tough. That stew was always filled with the habaneros and all sorts of chilis, something you gotta stop and sweat for every few bites. Not those gators though, they'd gobble them right up. I'll tell you though, one day those two did have a child, handsome one too. Fuzzy brown hair, and cute as all get out. Looked' something like you matter of fact. Named him Matthew."
"My name is Matthew" I knew what was going on, I did, and I felt something like fear and something like comfort. Knowing just who this man was saying he was.
"Is it? Well, that can't hardly be a coincidence. I'll tell you something though, Matthew, I lied earlier in the story, I s'pose I should go ahead and tell you the truth."
"What's that?"
"Well, you already figured out, wasn't too hard, that's your mama I'm talkin' about, and yes, I'm your papa. I'm sure you figured that out too. I know I don't look like much not after you know what happened, but I didn't die. I've been living around this here lake since you was born. Your mama says she don't want me back in the house account of how I look. I don't blame her, but it sure is frustrating." there was some rustling in the reeds behind us, and the croak of some old frogs - they always sounded old to me at least.
"And that meat, ain't no packages from Chicago, I don't think Carol ever lived in Chicago, maybe she did, but I never heard from anyone there. And there wasn't so much as a picture to prove it. Those was those little miracles from the Lord. Yes I'd put one in your mama, we'd wait a few months, and we'd have ourselves a nice meal. The first one really was a miscarriage, and we were hungry, so we tried just a bite. Maybe we were both a little too much on the whisky, but we were very hungry. And boy - it tasted good. Best meat I'd ever had. And as long as I could keep fishin' by that lake I could give your mama the energy she needed to make that delicious beef stew."
I got up as fast as I could muster, I tried to run, took a few good strides, and then felt arms on my shoulders, locking me in place, and shoving me down onto the floor. I squirmed and screamed: "Let me go, no!" I cried, and I hollered, but it was no use. It was my mama, she straddled me with her legs, and pinned my arms down so I couldn't move a muscle. She smelled like those old hamburgers. And she smiled the sweet smile she always smiled when she was in one of her better moods.
"We waited a bit longer with you, wanted you to be nice and ripe, and now I think you're ready. Don't you think he's nice and ready, Carol?"
Mama took one hand off me, whipped it behind her back, and pulled out a big kitchen knife. She held it in front of me, and I could say my eyes in the metal, tears were rolling, and my face was red and screaming. Can't say I'd been that scared since.
"Carol, darlin', before we make our meal, how bout' we kiss like we used to. It'd be nice for him to see what a happy family looks like"
"Kiss you?" Mama spat. "You ugly little drunk, not even the alligators would want to kiss your mouth. Last one tried to kiss you spat you right out. I ain't want nothin' to do with that."
"Darling, I missed you."
"I didn't miss you, I ain't lettin' you back in the house neither. You think I can't find another man? Just past this lake I've got a hundred suitors just waitin' to take a gal like me. Bet they have big cocks too, not like your little pecker."
That was enough for papa, He ran right toward mama, I don't know how he did it with those whirlin' eyes, but he did it. He came and pushed mama right off me. I started crawling away as quickly as I could. Papa bit her and mama let out a big yelp: "Fuck!" she screamed; mama didn't cuss much 'less she was real mad. And boy was she real mad. I crawled into the reeds and hid there, lookin' through to see what was gon' happen.
She stabbed him, right in his arm when he tried to block her form his stomach. Big nasty gash, blood running everywhere, a little brown, a little green, but still mostly red. But he kept just goin' kickin' and bitin'. "I'll kill you!" she screamed and slashed, and they both yelped and hollered.
Then, I swear, he started hummin' a little tune, sounded like a nursery rhyme, and the water started to bubble, and I saw two big eyes out of the water, and then that mouth, and a big gator came right up. whappin' his tail, snortin' and groanin' in that way gators do. Bit mama on the leg, and started draggin' back to the water, mama screamed, and kicked, but that gator hung on. Bit up on her thigh, boy was she bleeding, strips of meat, and bone cracked and split. That gator dragged mama right down into the water. There was some splashin' and the gators back would come up and then back down into the water, and occasionally I heard a gurgly scream, but before I knew it the whole thing was over.
My papa sat there, I have to say, even then I felt a bit bad for him. "Son come out of those reeds, I promise I ain't gonna eat you no more."
I came and sat by papa and papa started hummin' again. I started to get up, but he put his hand on me. "Don't worry, she ain't gon' hurt you. I just gotta go away for a while."
The alligator came back on to the land and papa sat right down on her back, she crawled into the water until just her back and his upper body were above the water. "I gotta go son, I'm sorry. One day we might see each other again."
I didn't say a word, what was there to say? I met my papa, and he tried to eat me, now he wasn't, and now he was riding an alligator. So, I just nodded, and secretly hoped that maybe I wouldn't see him again.
And then off he went across the lake until I couldn't see him no more, haven't seen him since either. I went back to the house, and I'll tell you, I heard those voices my mama used to hear, too. But they wasn't mad at all, they was saying thank you. I think those are my brothers and sisters, and I think they thought I did something right. I whispered, "Don't thank me, thank papa, he saved us after all." And then, I'll tell you, nobody ever heard those voices again.

I knew that the Dirtman was real, although I hadn't wanted to believe it.
Just the idea creeped me out. A man slathered in dirt who sneaks into your home while you're asleep and steals dirt from underneath your pillow.
It was freaky.
The stuff of nightmares.
But regardless of that, there was worse to come.
If by any chance you looked at the Dirtman, then he would stare at you until you died a slow, painful and miserable death.
But I highly doubted it.
No one had ever died.
They just keep their eyes shut. Only, if it's true.
And I highly doubt that it is. I mean, it's just an urban legend. A campfire tale.
Like the tooth fairy, but replace the teeth with dirt.
I decided to test the theory out. I knew that there could have been a danger to it, but I knew that the chances of such a thing being real seemed minimal, even impossible.
There's no dirtman, I told myself.
Nothing's gonna get you.
I retreated out of my bedroom, wearing only loose fitting pajamas, and crept downstairs. I was an adult male living totally alone, still afraid to make the stairs in my house creak.
Regardless, I still crept down. The wood of the stairs was cold to the touch.
Very ice cold. Freezing, even.
Gooseflesh aroused on my arms and I rubbed them to melt the pimples of the cold and return my arm to the normal smooth layer of skin.
That's a weird description.
But that's what the Dirtman'll do.
I reached the bottom of the steps. Just behind the dining table stood an outdoor backyard. The doors were made of see-through glass. Sliding doors. Damn convenient for barbeques on a nice Saturday evening.
I walked around the table, and unlocked the door.
The cold air hit me like a fist to the stomach. My stomach clenched, eyes grew watery...
I stepped outside, my bare-feet feeling the damp wood of the patio.
I walked down the small steps and into the garden.
Crouching down, I burrowed for a bit, feeling the grains of dirt against my hands. They stank of water, and a little bit of faeces, too. But that's what the rain'll do.
I looked at the sky.
Gonna rain again.
With a handful of dirt, I quickly got up from my crouched position and made my way up the patio stairs.
I felt like a juggling clown at the carnival, attempting not to spill the handful of dirt clenched in my grasp.
Racing up the stairs, I came into a small problem.
My door was shut.
Fuck.
My door had the spinning knobs, so I needed a hand to open it.
And then, I noticed that it wasn't entirely shut. But when my shoulder pushed against the door, it didn't open.
Oh well, I can clean up the dirt a little later.
I cupped the dirt into one hand, watching small specks fall onto the floor, and twisted the doorknob.
I raced inside and leapt for my pillow, careful not to spill the dirt.
Pulling the soft pillow upwards, I emptied my hand onto the mattress. The dirt laid before my eyes, and I quickly found myself asleep, as if it were some hallucinogenic way to fall asleep.
But I awoke to a sound.
My room was dark. My eyes were shut.
The Dirtman was real.
And he was inside of my home.
Inside of my bedroom.
Touching me.
His skinny finger, curved and bony, jutting with perfect precision, traced the outlines of my face. Up my cheek.
The way his hand felt, brushing against my face, felt like a knife carving into fine wood.
I was afraid, but I knew that all I had to was keep my eyes shut.
Or so I thought.
The Dirtman's hand reached my eye, and began to pull the flesh open. I felt my eyes blink. I looked everywhere but at the Dirtman.
'Look at me, child,' he croaked.
The voice was not human,
It was monstrous.
Multi-pitched and croaky, it reminded me of an angel. If only that angel had risen from the bowels of Hell.
My eyes locked onto him. He was a tall, skinny figure, with dirt slathered across albino skin. A smile was etched into his face, with the only bit of light gleaming from his crystal teeth.
'You are one of us, now,' he said.
Dirt outlined him, fell to the ground in clumps.
'You should have been asleep.'
My heart was racing.
His eyes were black. Vanta. I looked at him and could feel his gaze tearing my soul from my body. Literally.
My intestines had tensed to the point I felt like they were being sucked up through my throat. My bones were buzzing with a sense of vibrations.
It was like a compression of my stomach.
Mashing my bones together. Dicing them. Slicing them. Rearranging my body.
I heard the snap of my leg as the Dirtman lifted it above my neck, the knee wrapping around. He did the same to the other, forming an O with my feet.
He pulled my arms from the socket. The small section of flesh without any bone to rely on was one of my biggest phobias. And now this random Dirtman had just tried to kill me.
I felt a gash open up my forehead, blood seeping from the wound and blinding me.
As I tried to scream, mountains of blood and dirt strangled me, choked me, forced all of my air out, until my heart slowly began to stop beating.
If you are reading this, I am dead. Sacrificed to the Dirtman.
Please, never put dirt underneath your pillow.
Because the Dirtman will only retreat from that corner.
You know exactly what corner I am talking about.
You.
The reader.
Holding this book open on a paperback, a e-reader, a phone, a computer, an app.
Please, whatever you do.
DO NOT LOOK AT THAT CORNER.

Finn Tresscoat, a 20-year-old with short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a pale complexion, strolled down the sidewalk of his small town. He wore a light brown leather jacket over a black shirt, paired with black jeans and black-and-white sneakers.
As Finn ambled along, he glanced at the many shops lining the main road of the town's bustling center. He wasn't searching for anything in particular; he simply wanted to enjoy the rare day off from his job, one of the most perilous occupations in the United West (U.W.).
"Finn! Oh, Finn!"
Finn turned his head to the right and spotted Ms. Tori Elortor, or simply Ms. Tori as he called her. She was an older lady in her early fifties, though her youthful appearance often surprised the townsfolk. With long white hair cascading down her back, pale skin, and bright hazel eyes, she was a striking figure. Today, she wore a navy blue sundress over a pair of tight blue jeans and brown cowboy boots.
Ms. Tori, the local bakery owner, was considered quite attractive and often caught the eye of the younger men in town. Her curvaceous figure and active lifestyle, including regular yoga sessions in the park, only added to her allure. However, Finn saw her differently. Having known her since childhood and feeling like part of her family, he saw her as a maternal figure rather than anything else. He was also close to her son, Eric, feeling like an older brother to him.
Despite his demanding job, which kept him busy for nearly twenty-four-seven, Finn always tried to visit Ms. Tori and Eric whenever he could. Today was a rare opportunity for him to relax and reconnect.
"Ah, hi Ms. Tori! How are you today?" Finn greeted her with a warm smile.
Ms. Tori returned his smile. "I'm just fine, Finn. The real question is, how are you? I haven't seen you in months!" Her tone shifted to one of concern. "I was worried, and so was Eric. You do have quite a dangerous job for someone so young," she added.
What kind of dangerous job did Finn have, you might ask?
Well, Finn was a "Gaunt Hunter," a member of a specialized group tasked with safeguarding the small towns outside the major cities in the United West from creatures known as Gaunts.
These slim, humanoid creatures had leathery black skin, no eyes or nose, and wide mouths that drooled a strange dark green liquid. They had emerged after the cataclysmic "Decade of Winter."
The Gaunts varied in form and capability. Some were very muscular, while others had bat-like wings, allowing them to fly. They were also cunning, often creating weapons from scavenged materials and hunting in packs.
Disturbingly, these were just the common variants.
There were tales of Gaunts resembling animals and some that could even speak, though Finn himself had never encountered such anomalies.
Despite the ominous title of Gaunt Hunter, Finn's role wasn't as glamorous as one might imagine.
He wasn't a high-tech, gadget-wielding hero. Gaunt Hunters received training similar to regular police officers, focusing on the use of firearms. However, since firearms were not commonly traded or shipped to the smaller towns outside the major cities, Gaunt Hunters were also taught to wield swords, knives, and other melee weapons, as well as trained in close-range combat.
Finn had been trained to fire a pistol but also learned to fight with a machete, which was more practical for their needs than a traditional sword. On duty, he carried a standard-issue Glock-17 and a machete strapped to his side. He also wore the standard protective gear issued to United West Security Forces (UWSF) officers.
Returning to the conversation with Ms. Tori, Finn let out a lighthearted chuckle. "Dangerous for most of the veterans on the job, but I'm young and fit! Practically invincible!" he said with a grin.
Ms. Tori gave Finn an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow. "Is that right?" she asked. "Then what's this I hear about a Gaunt nearly taking your head off just last week?"
Finn's face flushed with embarrassment as he recalled the incident. A Gaunt had caught him off guard and nearly decapitated him with a makeshift axe. "Okay... yeah, fair enough," he admitted, looking down.
Ms. Tori's expression softened, and she gave him a few light taps on the shoulder. "Oh, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, Finn, I'm just reminding you that your job is dangerous… You need to be careful," she said gently.
Finn looked up at her and nodded. "I know, and thank you for caring," he replied. Inwardly, he thought, 'It's not like anyone else does'
"Of course, I care, Finn," Ms. Tori said firmly. "Do you know how devastated I'd be if you got hurt or, heaven forbid, died? I'd be heartbroken,” she told him. “Eric would be even worse off, after all, who would play with him?"
Finn felt a wave of warmth at her words. Despite not wanting to worry Ms. Tori or Eric, it was comforting to know there were people who cared about him, and who wanted him to stay safe and come back home. "I guess you're right," he said with a soft smile. "I'll try to be more careful out there, I promise,”
Ms. Tori nodded, her smile lingering. "Good,” she said. “Now, how many days do you have off?" she asked.
"Not many," Finn replied with a sigh. "Just today,"
Ms. Tori's eyes widened in shock. "Only today? Why?" She asked.
Finn's expression turned serious. "Many of the other Gaunt Hunters are either dead, retiring, or switching to become cops... There are only ten of us left in the entire town,"
Ms. Tori's eyes widened in horror. Gaunt Hunters were the primary defense against the Gaunts. The law across the U.W. dictated that local law enforcement dealt with human issues, leaving Gaunt-related threats to the Hunters. The thought of their numbers dwindling was terrifying.
Each town was supposed to have a contingent of Gaunt Hunters, given that small towns were the primary targets for Gaunt attacks.
Major cities, in contrast, rarely had to deal with Gaunts.
The dense populations of these urban centers acted as a deterrent, scaring off most Gaunt packs. Even if a small group of Gaunts did manage to attack, the cities were equipped with heavy weaponry and advanced defenses, making Gaunt Hunters unnecessary there.
This starkly contrasted with the dire need for Gaunt Hunters in the smaller, more vulnerable towns.
Ideally, each small town would have around fifty Gaunt Hunters, a number intended to ensure adequate protection against the Gaunt threat. However, the reality was far grimmer. The inherent dangers and heavy responsibilities associated with the job dissuaded many from becoming Gaunt Hunters. The perilous nature of the work, combined with the constant threat of death, resulted in a severe shortage of recruits.
As a result, the numbers in many towns had dwindled alarmingly.
"Only ten?" she repeated her voice barely above a whisper. "That's... alarming… What happens if more Gaunts come?"
"We do our best," Finn said, trying to sound confident. "But it's tough… Every day, we’re stretched thinner,"
Ms. Tori took a deep breath, trying to process the gravity of the situation.
Finn felt a lump in his throat. "I promise, Ms. Tori. I'll do everything I can to stay safe," he said, trying to remind her if his promise mere moments ago.
Ms. Tori wanted to argue with Finn's comment, but deep down, she knew he was somewhat right. The town was struggling—trade had slowed to a trickle, and many residents had moved away. The constant threat of Gaunt attacks made living there increasingly untenable. Even Ms. Tori had considered leaving to ensure Eric’s safety and to give him a chance to grow up in a more stable environment where he could interact with other children and experience the broader world.
However, she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
Her late husband was buried in this town, and even though years had passed since his death, she felt tied to the place where he rested. She had loved this town deeply, and in a way, staying felt like keeping a part of him alive.
Seeing the conflict in her eyes, Finn decided to change the subject. "Hey, why don't I come over for dinner?" he suggested with a soft smile. "I'm sure Eric would be happy to see me after so long,”
Ms. Tori was pulled out of her thoughts by his offer. She smiled, grateful for his willingness to spend his rare day off with them. "That would be lovely, Finn," she said with a quick nod.
They walked together to Ms. Tori's home, a modest three-bedroom house with a large attic. Inside, they found Eric sitting in front of the TV, watching cartoons. Hearing Finn’s voice, Eric turned, his face lighting up with excitement. He jumped out of his seat and ran to give Finn a hug.
Eric was about 11 years old, with brown hair like his deceased father but hazel eyes like his mother. He was wearing a dark black and blue striped shirt, dark gray pants, and black slip-on shoes.
Finn hugged him back, smiling. "I've got some stories to tell over dinner," he said, which made Eric's eyes sparkle with anticipation.
He loved hearing about the world beyond their town, even if it was mostly filled with woods and the ruins of an old world.
Finn then followed Ms. Tori into the kitchen to help prepare dinner. He found what he could and handed the items to her, glad to be of assistance. Ms. Tori thanked him and asked if he could help chop vegetables, which he was more than happy to do.
As they worked side by side, Ms. Tori glanced at Finn, her expression a mix of gratitude and concern. "You know, Finn, this town means a lot to me,” she told him “It’s where I built my life with my husband, and it’s where I want Eric to grow up, despite everything,"
Finn nodded, understanding the deep attachment she had. "I get it, Ms. Tori. This place has a lot of memories, and as long as I'm here, I'll do my best to keep it safe for you and Eric,"
Ms. Tori smiled warmly. "I know you will, Finn... Thank you,”
Dinner was a warm, lively affair. Eric listened intently to Finn’s stories, hanging on every word. The laughter and conversation filled the small home, creating a moment of normalcy amidst the chaos of their world. For a brief time, the threats outside seemed distant, and they enjoyed the simple pleasure of being together.
After a few bites, Eric looked at Finn eagerly. "Can you tell me one of your stories, Finn?" he asked, his eyes bright with anticipation.
Finn nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. "Well, a couple of days ago, I was out with two or three other Hunters, we had just finished fighting off a few Gaunts, once they were dealt with, we decided to explore the area since it was the site of an old abandoned amusement park,” he began. “Some of the rides were still standing, though most were broken and destroyed, it was interesting to see the tech they used to have back then," Finn recounted.
Eric's eyes widened with excitement. "Wow! That's awesome!" he exclaimed.
Finn grinned. "It was pretty cool, but it’s nothing compared to some of the parks I saw in Salton Lake City! Those places are amazing,"
Eric's eyes gleamed at the mention of the nearby city. "Man, I want to go there someday!" he said enthusiastically. "Maybe when I start my training to be a Gaunt Hunter," he added with a big smile.
Finn chuckled. "So, you want to be a Gaunt Hunter, huh?" he asked. "You think you’ve got what it takes?"
Eric nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh! I know I can be a Gaunt Hunter! I bet I can even be better than you!" he declared, pointing at Finn.
Finn raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh really?" he said. "Who's to say I'm not the best of the best, huh?"
Eric gave him a smug smirk. "Because if you were the best Hunter, you'd have already gotten rid of all the Gaunts!" he said confidently.
Finn chuckled. "Well, you got me there," he admitted. "But hey, if you think you can be the best and get rid of all the Gaunts, then I say go for it, dude."
Eric chuckled and resumed eating, his enthusiasm undimmed. Ms. Tori watched the two with a fond smile, marveling at the brotherly bond between them. It warmed her heart to see how close they had become. She knew that Finn cherished this connection just as much as Eric did, especially since Finn had grown up without a family of his own, raised in the local orphanage.
She recalled those early days when a young Finn would walk into the bakery, clutching a few coins. His eyes would light up with wonder at the sight of the treats and goodies lining the shelves. Something about him had touched her heart, and she began offering him free treats for him and the other orphans whenever he visited. Her late husband had also taken a liking to Finn, treating him like the son they never had. When Finn decided to become a Gaunt Hunter, it was her husband who had helped him prepare for the rigorous training, getting him into shape and offering constant encouragement.
After her husband's death, it was Finn who helped her grieve and find the strength to carry on. She had felt terrible about leaning on him during such a hard time, knowing he had his own sadness to deal with, yet he remained steadfast and strong. He had been there for her and for Eric, helping the young boy understand their loss and navigate the difficult times that followed.
She was truly grateful to have Finn in her life.
Suddenly, Finn's phone vibrated insistently in his pocket. He quickly reached for it and saw a text message from work. He opened it, dreading what it might say.
[~Finn, we need you tonight. Jon and Gary quit out of the blue, so we need someone to fill in.~]
Finn sighed, frustration bubbling up inside him. 'Great, now we're down to eight Hunters,' he thought. 'And Jon and Gary were both my age and in better shape than the veterans at the station.'
Ms. Tori noticed the change in his expression and knew immediately what it meant. "Does duty call, Finn?" she asked gently.
Finn nodded, his expression weary. "Yeah, looks like Jon and Gary quit. They need me to cover tonight."
Ms. Tori sighed, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Finn. I know how much you were looking forward to some time off."
"It's alright," Finn said, forcing a smile. "I knew it was a long shot anyway. The town needs all the help it can get."
Eric looked up, concern etched on his young face. "Do you have to go, Finn?"
Finn ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Yeah, buddy. Duty calls. But I'll be back, and we’ll have more stories to share. I promise."
Ms. Tori gave him a supportive nod. "Just promise us you'll stay safe, Finn."
"I will," Finn assured her. He stood up, preparing to leave. "Thanks for dinner, Ms. Tori. It was great, as always."
As he left the warm, comforting atmosphere of Ms. Tori's home and headed out into the cold night, Finn felt a renewed sense of purpose. Despite the exhaustion and the ever-present danger, he knew he had to keep fighting. For the town, for Eric, and for the memory of the man who had helped him become who he was.
Once at the station, Finn entered and immediately spotted Dick Cortez, a veteran Gaunt Hunter who had been safeguarding the town for as long as Finn could remember. Dick, now in his 50s, had graying hair, deep-set wrinkles, and perpetually tired eyes. He was wearing the standard-issue armor that all Gaunt Hunters received, though each Hunter was allowed to customize their armor with different colors and modifications.
Dick's armor consisted of a high-collar black shirt beneath a modified, pure black chest plate that covered his upper abdomen, along with similarly-colored bracers. Both the chest plate and bracers were trimmed with white and featured matching shoulder pads. He also wore gloves with small metal plating on the fingers, dark navy jeans, black and white metal knee pads, and dark brown boots.
Dick noticed Finn and offered a small smile. "Heya, Finn," he greeted.
"Hey yourself, Dick," Finn replied with a nod.
"Sorry about having to bring you in on your day off," Dick said, his tone genuinely apologetic.
Finn walked over to his locker, where his armor and weapons were stored. He glanced at Dick and shrugged, giving a small smile. "It's alright, Dick. I understand why, and I'm not angry—well, not at you, but at those two," Finn said, referring to Jon and Gary.
Dick nodded in understanding. "Trust me, I'm disappointed in them too, but I can see why they left so suddenly," he said.
Finn nodded back, opening his locker to reveal his armor. His armor was similar to Dick's but differed in color and the clothing underneath. Finn wore his usual attire beneath the armor, which consisted of a dark brown chest plate trimmed with black, matching bracers, shoulder pads, knee pads, and gloves.
He took the armor out and quickly dressed, securing the pieces in place. He then grabbed his Glock and its holster, strapping it around his waist, and added his machete in its sheath. Once fully suited up, he turned to Dick with a raised brow. "Which side of town am I patrolling tonight?"
"Outer wall, west side," Dick stated, his voice firm.
Finn nodded, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. The west side of the outer wall was notorious for Gaunt activity, a hotspot for their attacks. It was going to be a long night.
As he headed out, Dick called after him, "Stay sharp out there, Finn. We can't afford to lose any more good Hunters."
Finn turned back and gave a resolute nod. "I will, Dick. See you in the morning."
Once outside the city, Finn couldn't help but take in the grim sight of the outer wall. It was marred with deep scratches and chips from relentless Gaunt attacks, stained with the dark green goo that dripped from their slavering mouths, and speckled with bloodstains that would never fully wash away. The stark contrast between this battered exterior and the inner walls of the town was striking. Inside, the walls were adorned with chalk drawings from children and vibrant murals from the town's artists. These cheerful images served as a reminder of what he was protecting, and why he had chosen to become a Gaunt Hunter in the first place.
Reaching the west side of the wall, Finn began his patrol, moving back and forth to ensure no Gaunts were attempting to scale the barrier. For now, the night was quiet, and he hoped it would remain that way.
As he walked his beat, his thoughts drifted back to dinner with Eric and the boy's enthusiastic declaration about becoming a Gaunt Hunter. While part of him felt honored by Eric's admiration, another part was deeply troubled. The life of a Hunter was dangerous and filled with horrors that no one should have to witness, let alone a young boy like Eric.
Finn's mind flashed back to a particularly gruesome memory from a past patrol. He and another Hunter had been called to assist in repelling a large pack of Gaunts. They had rushed to the scene, only to find their comrades dead, slaughtered in horrific ways. One Hunter's skull had been cracked open, with Gaunts eating from it as if it were a bowl of grapes. Another Hunter, still alive, was being disemboweled and devoured. Finn could never forget the man's agonized expression as he watched his own entrails being torn apart and consumed. The sight had been so revolting that Finn had vomited on the spot, paralyzed by shock until his partner snapped him back to reality.
Then there were the stories he had heard from veterans like Dick. Dick once recounted an incident where a Hunter had been speared to death by multiple Gaunts. They hadn't even eaten him; they had just impaled him repeatedly, leaving his body to rot in the woods for days. Such tales highlighted the Gaunts' malevolence and complete lack of empathy.
Finn shuddered at the memories. He didn't want Eric to face such nightmares. The boy was full of life and potential, and Finn couldn't bear the thought of him enduring the same horrors he had.
Since that harrowing incident and the chilling story Dick had shared, Finn had sworn to himself that he wouldn't meet a similar fate. He vowed to go out fighting, to not end up like those other hunters. He couldn't bear the thought of becoming another victim, especially after what happened to his sister.
The sudden howl nearby jolted Finn out of his grim thoughts. The sound was close—too close. Instantly alert, he scanned his surroundings. Just then, something whizzed past his face, slicing his cheek. He turned to see a makeshift arrow embedded in the wall. Spinning back around, his heart sank as he saw ten Gaunts emerging from the tree line.
"Shit!" Finn cursed, his eyes widening in horror. This was a dire situation. He quickly drew his Glock and aimed at the advancing creatures. Before he could fire, a sharp pain seared through his left side. He glanced down to see a small dagger lodged in his torso.
'What the hell?' Finn thought, bewildered. 'Did one of the Gaunts throw this?'
"Sorry, but it's nothing personal," a strange voice echoed through the darkness.
Finn's gaze snapped forward, and he saw a figure emerging from the shadows. They wore a long black cloak that seemed to envelop them completely, giving the eerie impression that they were gliding across the ground rather than walking.
The figure approached him, their face obscured by the cloak's hood. "My, you are a handsome young man," they purred in a sultry tone. "Such a fucking shame that my babies must eat. We've been on the run, and they haven't had a chance to rest and eat until we saw you." They giggled, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Finn's spine.
Fear gripped Finn, but he managed to look up at the cloaked figure with a raised brow. "W-Who are you?" he stammered, his voice wavering.
The figure tilted their head slightly as if amused by his question. "Who am I?" they echoed. "I am their mother, their caretaker. I ensure they survive, even if it means feeding them humans like you." The figure leaned closer, and Finn could just make out a twisted smile beneath the hood.
Finn's mind raced. He needed to think of a way out, and fast. The Gaunts were closing in, and he was injured and at a severe disadvantage. Summoning his remaining strength, he clutched his Glock tighter and tried to steady his breath. He couldn't let this be the end.
The figure's giggle echoed eerily through the night, sending a shiver down Finn's spine. "Oh! Now I'm regretting stabbing you," they remarked with a twisted amusement. "It's not every day a handsome young man asks me my name, you know? Most prefer a no-name policy." Their tone was cryptic, and Finn couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in his gut. "While I would love to give you my name in far better circumstances, I'm afraid I don't have the time," they continued, their words dripping with urgency. "As I said, we're on the run from a rather unpleasant girl."
Finn's confusion only deepened. The figure's response didn't provide any clarity, leaving him even more perplexed. As the figure began to back away, Finn's eyes widened in shock as the Gaunts beside them moved in unison. ‘She can... control them!?’ he realized, disbelief washing over him.
"Go ahead, babies... EAT!" the figure commanded, her voice chillingly calm.
With a sickening lurch in his stomach, Finn watched as the Gaunts surged forward, their hunger palpable in the air. Determination surged within him, driving him to fight against the odds stacked against him. Ignoring the searing pain from his wound, he raised his gun and fired at the approaching Gaunts. Despite his efforts, only one was hit, and even then, it didn't slow down.
Finn gritted his teeth, preparing for the inevitable close-quarter battle with the monsters. "Come on!" he growled defiantly. "I'm right here!"
The Gaunts closed in, their predatory instincts driving them forward. Just as they leaped toward him, ready to strike, something unexpected occurred.
Thorny vines erupted from the ground, snaking around the Gaunts with incredible speed. Finn's eyes widened in astonishment as the vines ensnared the creatures, halting their advance. The vines twisted and contorted, slamming the Gaunts into the ground with brutal force, tearing at their flesh and rendering them helpless.
" Damn! How did that bitch already find us!?" the figure exclaimed, frustration evident in their voice.
Finn's gaze followed the figure's gaze as a new figure emerged from the shadows.
Her appearance was striking, to say the least. With a spiky red Mohawk and piercing red eyes devoid of any white, she exuded an aura of fierce determination. Smudged mascara framed her intense gaze, adding to her wild and untamed appearance. Her lips were painted black, a stark contrast to her fiery red hair and eyes. Clad in a black leather crop top vest that accentuated her slim, athletic frame, she exuded an air of defiance. Arm bands encircled her wrists and biceps, resembling the wraps worn by boxers, hinting at her combat prowess. Around her neck, she wore a large choker, adding to her rebellious demeanor. Her attire was completed by tight leather pants and high-heeled platform boots, giving her an imposing presence.
"Found you, ya freaking cunt!" she spat, her voice laced with venom.
The cloaked figure retreated, increasing the distance between them and the girl. "Ugh, don't you ever give up?" they retorted, their tone tinged with irritation.
The girl leveled a fierce glare at the figure. "After the shit you've done!? I ain't letting you go!" she declared, her voice dripping with disdain.
The figure let out a mocking giggle. "Is that so?" they taunted, gesturing toward Finn who lay wounded on the ground. "Not even to save his life?"
The girl's gaze shifted to Finn, her expression softening momentarily as she registered his injuries. Before she could react, a shrill howl pierced the air, drawing their attention back to the figure.
"What the hell did you do!?" the girl demanded, her voice trembling with rage.
"Oh, just called in a few friends over for dinner," the figure replied casually.
"You bitch!" the girl seethed.
With a swift motion, she thrust her hand forward, summoning a massive vine with thorns protruding from its surface. The vine lunged toward the figure, but they evaded the attack with agile grace, darting away through the forest.
"Have fun~!" they taunted, their laughter echoing through the trees as they disappeared into the darkness.
Driven by determination, the girl pursued the figure, her footsteps echoing through the forest. However, her path was suddenly obstructed as a horde of Gaunts emerged from the shadows, blocking her way with menacing snarls and bared teeth.
"Get out of my way!" the girl cried, her voice ringing with determination.
In an instant, a smaller thorned vine shot out of the ground with startling speed, piercing through the approaching Gaunts like a bullet. Lifted into the air by the force of the vine, the creatures were hurled aside, crashing into trees with bone-crushing force.
As more Gaunts emerged from the shadows behind her, four shots echoed through the air. Finn's aim was true, striking the advancing Gaunts and causing them to writhe in agony as they fell to the ground. The girl glanced back to see Finn's timely intervention, offering a silent nod of acknowledgment before focusing her attention back on the remaining threats. Summoning more vines, she ensnared the creatures, tearing them apart with ruthless efficiency.
Satisfied that the immediate danger had passed, the girl turned back towards Finn, who was now sitting against the wall, applying pressure to his wound.
Bending down beside him, the girl flashed a smile, revealing sharp triangular teeth reminiscent of a shark. "Nice shooting there, dude. Really saved my ass back there," she remarked.
Finn managed a weak chuckle. "I should be thanking you. If you hadn't shown up, I'd be Gaunt food," he admitted.
"Let's call it even, then, eh?" she suggested. "What's your name?" she inquired.
Finn met her gaze, taking a moment to catch his breath before responding. "Finn, Finn Tresscoat," he introduced himself. Curiosity burning in his eyes, he posed a question in return. "Who are you? No... What are you?" he asked, unable to shake off the mystery surrounding her.
The girl maintained her enigmatic smile, meeting his gaze with her striking red eyes. "The name's Rachel Rose," she revealed. "As for what I am, well... I can answer that once you're all patched up," she added cryptically.
Summoning another vine, Rachel gently lifted Finn to his feet, supporting him as they began to make their way back towards town. With each step, Finn's mind buzzed with questions, the mysteries surrounding Rachel and her abilities swirling in his thoughts. Who was the cloaked figure? How did they control the Gaunts? And most pressing of all, who—or what—was Rachel, and how was she able to command those vines with such ease?
As they walked back toward town, Finn couldn't help but feel the weight of exhaustion settle upon him, both physically and mentally. His thoughts swirled with questions about the events that had just transpired—about Rachel, the cloaked figure, and the unsettling abilities they both possessed. Yet, amidst the chaos of his mind, one pressing question emerged, demanding attention above all else.
'When the hell am I gonna get another day off? Because I can sure as hell use it right now...!' Finn thought to himself, his weariness palpable.
Rachel, walking beside him, seemed to sense his inner turmoil. Casting him a sidelong glance, she offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Finn. You'll have your chance to rest soon," she assured him, her voice carrying a note of empathy.
Finn managed a weary smile in return, grateful for the reassurance. Despite the gravity of their situation, her words offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty that loomed over them…

First/Previous
Since I knew there was a time before, I’ve wanted it, but that was child’s hope; even as a boy I wanted a dream. I wanted some divine being to enter from heaven and tell us all how it should be, but that wasn’t something I could ever count on—of course. Is there a god? I think so. I’ve seen those things and if they exist, then surely there’s a maker on the other end of it—god made both the light and the dark if the word’s to be believed and all we can hope for is a glimpse of the former. Even for a second.
The streets were soaked with blood and so many artillery rounds were fired into the sky—many I witnessed missed Leviathan—that I forgot what silence was like (not to mention the screams and there was a lot of that).
In the scrambling, I found I was reentering deeper into Golgotha and that wasn’t good. There was the ever-present thought that Maron was around every corner; the man had haunted my thoughts for longer that he should have and every time it was like an overwhelming force. It was simple enough after all, he was a piece of the past, a piece I could theoretically reach out and touch and that was what kept me to him.
In the fray of bolting citizens, I pressed myself to the exterior of a wall—I’d neared the stairs which once led to my apartment—and I kept out of the way of those that mindlessly went; some of those which rushed from the onslaught were those afflicted with skitterbugs and many of them either hobbled on blackened legs or—and this was rare—comrades or family helped to carry those which could not carry themselves. It was a baffling sight. A man carried a woman like a child (her toes had fallen off and her legs were black to the knees) and though he strode on with her, his own boots were caked with a mixture of blood and earth. An older girl led a young boy from the whirlwind of dust which was kicked up in the square; the boy’s eyes were whited, and his hands were curled to his chest, discolored. People, whatever duality there is, cared. There was not a drop of the apathy I’d learned and encouraged in myself.
I chewed like a mad dog through my bindings, and it was of little use; I yanked at the cord which secured my hands together and received rope burn in return. “Bitch!” I cussed the thing, but the flames in the sky were so loud, the bangs and vibrations from the artillery consumed all so it was like yelling in a barrel. I swung my hands out in front of me, feeling useless and felt a sudden urge to try again. I bit into the cord and repetitively motioned my jaw against the pressure of the cord, like I was going to saw through it with my teeth. Ha! Another yank is what brought my left hand free, but not without tearing a triangle of skin away from my wrist.
The cord dropped to my feet, and I looked around; a woman brushed past me, nearly toppled over my foot and I caught her by the wrist before she went head-over. She violently thrust from my grasp and screamed something at me. Another bout of flames burst from Leviathan’s maw as it circle-dove overhead. The heatwave from the blast exploded across my face so that I recoiled from the sky itself till I was on the ground, and I pushed myself from the earth and ran half dog-like from my place there at the wall. Where? It was hard to say where when every person that touched-by seemed to send me in another direction; in the madness, it was impossible to tell my course.
With time and effort, I found my way to the opening where the hydro towers were, three pillars which rose above Golgotha’s skyline, each one a testament to human resilience—engineers laborers toiled untold hours under Lady’s father to construct them. The hydro towers exploded into rubble as Leviathan slammed into them. Rock rained down as cutting shards and destructive boulders. A man lay beside my feet where he'd been pinned by the onslaught—white concrete kept him there by his chest—he gasped for air and blood already formed around him. In a moment, I looked away at the dying man, his half-whited eyes bulging at me. Meat hung from the left side of another man’s face as he cradled his head in his hand and moved like he was stoned and sat among the stomping feet; he slumped into the spot he sat and did not move till others came by him in a hurry and he simply fell onto his side like a toy animal.
The screams were too much. I looked to the towers, the nubs which had broken away like bad teeth against the red sky, and whole people fell alongside the rubble, limbs and showers of blood and Leviathan latched atop the towers and rocked its massive body so that the structures slipped directly from their foundations and tumbled over like pins. I ran and again there was nothing but chaos, nothing but mind-numbing wilder thoughts—it was grim and there wasn’t a place for coherency; it was all snaps of images.
In the mess of bumbling limbs, I pushed through to the hall of Bosses and there were people there already, rushing the stairs; the ground shook and I assumed it must’ve been the towers. The things demolished all in their path, and briefly, I saw the ramshackle structures which normally stood in their shadows come slanting over and people leapt from those places too and landed poorly and there was a cacophony of tremors through the earth—it felt as though hell should open.
The steps at the base of the hall were flooded and it was a fight to climb them as legs came high up from ahead and swiped at those behind and I kept my hands ahead of me to block whatever foot may come my way.
Wall men stood ready with their rifles at the tops of those steps and fired their weapons indiscriminately into the crowd. Bodies, big and small, piled atop the steps after a brief bullet dance and it came that I wasn’t only climbing stairs, but corpses; the warmth of their flesh as I clawed ahead remained and blood fog hung in the air. That grouping of wall men, casually lined before the doors of the hall were overtaken and they disappeared, their rifles cackled and came alive with muzzle flashes and the animal hands of the horde brought them to ground.
Us, the horde, funneled through those front doors and for a moment, in the thick walls of the hall, the outside world audibly disappeared; the blood and dust remained, but it was quieter save the shuffling feet and cusses of passersby I was carried deeper.
Those that worked the underground went quickly and I followed, and those ignorant followed for the sake of survival and it was not long till we stumbled into the Boss’s lair. With room, people dispersed like water through the tunnels and found dark recesses to tend their wounds or mourn whatever was lost and the explosive open air had been fully replaced by the quiet black oppressive mumbles of people taking stock of all those that had died. And all those that would. Every few moments, the walls shook, and dust fell from the ceiling fixtures.
A few haggard folks moved to the doorway which led to the damp room which led to the kitchen, and they slammed the door shut and latched it and began to check adjacent rooms for things to barricade the way.
“Stop!” said a man in the dim flickering underground light—I was surprised to see the man was me, “Leave it open! Others might need help.” I retraced my steps to the small faction that’d gathered there at the doorway. “You can’t just let them die out there. Let them in.”
“Shut up!” a skinny girl with her hair pulled back on her malnourished skull spoke gruffly; she choked, coughed—dust clung to her clothes—she’d been near the collapse of the hydro towers if I guessed. “Step off, or I’ll—
“Or you’ll what?” I shouted.
The girl put up her fists, two lumpy stones, and in stupid response I closed the distance between us. With speed, her fist met my nose, and I stumbled back on my heel.
Without hesitation, I brought up my own hands and landed a blow to her stomach. She craned forward, gasped on repeat, and took a knee.
Blood wet my upper lip, and I wiped it away with my forearm.
“Move,” I said to the others by the door; there were two: a woman and a boy that was nearly a man.
The boy charged headstrongly, attempted a kick and I easily shoved his small frame against the tunnel wall; the hard metal sounded a meaty thud against his body and the woman launched unseen at me, raked her nails down the back of my neck, and tore at my collar. I kept a forearm to the boy’s throat and rocked his head with my free elbow. Once he wept and spit red, I let him go; the boy slid into a sit and I spun on the woman, shoving her away. My left leg began to give, and I used the wall over the boy’s head as support. I swung at her with a wild claw and my fingertips grazed her nose as she fell away to the opposite wall.
“Stop it!” I shouted.
She launched at me, and my leg gave out under her tackle, and I stumbled half-on the boy, my feet kicked helplessly at her, and the boy regained his composure and began to crawl towards me. We wrestled and then the girl I’d knocked in the gut rejoined the fray. I was done. They had me pinned and spat curses at me and took turns shoving my head into the floor.
“You’re going to get us killed,” shouted the woman, “Are you stupid?”
I grinded my teeth and tried to throw them off; I was overpowered and easily pressed down again.
The overhead lights flickered with another deep earthy vibration and the trio let go of me in an instant—I came up swinging my arms like crazy and as I went to kneel before propelling myself to stand, a hand rested on my shoulder. I spun on the hand and was met with the black mouth of a 9mm pistol—that froze me fast.
The owner of the weapon—a wall man by the look of her fatigues—motioned for me to stand and I did. Her eyes were far off and nervous and the metal shook in her outstretched hand. “Against the wall!” she barked at us; she was small-framed and youthful but full grown, and I could easily push her out of my way if not for the pistol. We went to the wall, and she moved to the door while keeping the gun drawn on us. She watched us and glanced at the door. “It’s latched! Who latched the door?” She asked.
No one spoke. The other three looked to their feet; I initially refused to rat, and snorted blood—my nose throbbed and by touch I could tell it swelled already.
“Well? Why’s it closed?” she asked the question more like a desperate child than a person with control. “C’mon!” The 9mm rolled limply on her wrist as she said the word, like she was attempting to draw the confession from us with the motion.
“There’s an attack. They’re killing everyone,” said the boy.
The girl and woman nodded.
“Who?” asked the wall man.
“Demons, muties,” said the boy, “Big stuff. Everyone’s dying.”
The ground shook as if to emphasize his point.
The wall man studied us for a moment, lingering last on me and for the longest and she took a long breath and let the sigh out dramatically slow. “I know you,” she motioned at me with the gun, “You’re that maniac. The one that tried to murder everyone.” Her eyes fell then returned and she put her weight on the door while maintaining the barrel of the gun eye-level in my direction.
“I ain’t gonna’ hurt anyone,” said. I briefly thought about smiling but decided that’d look worse.
“How do I know that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said the boy, “He tried to kill us already!” His voice cracked with adolescence; the blood I’d spilled from his mouth coated the front of his holey shirt.
The trio nodded all together—everyone agreed that I was a maniac killer.
“They latched it,” I said, “Cowards.”
A thump came from the other side of the door which frightened the wall man and she leapt from the spot she’d leaned—it took several full seconds to realize her gun went off; there was a flash, and my ears rang. I stumbled from the knot of people and slunk a couple of feet from the space by the door. The girl—the one I gut-punched—collapsed to the floor while holding the right side of her face. The women crowded the girl, panicked, the boy sprinted past me and disappeared deeper into the underground, and the wall man stood there with a wretched blank expression. There was a long moment which hung in the air; I could not hear and then it came back, and it was the girl’s screams I heard first.
Upon stepping to them, I saw the prone girl had been shot just so—through the cheek. Her eyes rolled from likely spinal damage; whatever the angle, it seemed to have ripped through irreparable nerves and she bled a lot. There wasn’t any hope for that girl.
“Well,” I said to the wall man, “Finish it. No reason to make her suffer.”
The girl on the ground writhed unnaturally and caterwauled while the woman by her side attempted to calm her.
Greater became the sound of the belabored hands on the other side of the door; then a hollow-sounding gunshot came from the other side; were they shooting the door? Or each other? Another round—human screams.
The wall man shook her head. “I didn’t mean it. It was an accident.”
I tried to hold the wall man’s gaze, but she didn’t seem able.
With speed, I moved to the wall man, reached for the gun which dangled helpless by her side—her initial response was to flinch, pull the weapon from my reach; our eyes locked and I clenched my jaw. She could’ve killed me. There wouldn’t have been surprise from me if she had.
She let go of the gun and I nodded, and she nodded and the woman kneeling by the girl threw herself over her. “Please,” protested the woman, “Please don’t!”
With the aid of the pistol, I was given space, and nothing was said. I mentally prepared myself for the ringing which accompanied gunfire in small spaces, even tilted my head away with my free palm up and took aim and the girl jerked once then went still.
With the ringing going and sound returning, the drumming on the door returned, as well as the quiet weeps of the woman; she crawled to the wayside of the hall, pressed her back against the wall and rested her chin on her knees with her arms around her shins. She didn’t rock to or fro and hardly made any noise at all. But the small and quiet sobs remained faintly there.
First/Previous
Archive

Chapter 1: Hope’s 16th Birthday
As the rays of the sun hits her eyes Hope Moonshine wakes up excited, she was waiting for this day for all her life
She jumps out of her bed and rushes to her mom's room excited and she accidentally flung the door open too fast making a loud cranking noise waking her mother, Queen Matilda up
"Oops didn't mean to wake you up" hope said awkwardly"Honey I know you are excited for your birthday but you need to be patient the sun has just risen everyone is still asleep" Matilda said tiredly, "please go back to sleep darling you will have a long day today and you will need the energy, your party wont be begin till noon"
"Ok mom, sorry for waking you up" said Hope as she was trying to close the door slowly enough that it doesn't crank but it still did "Not an issue dear", said Matilda
As the door closed Matilda took a deep breath and closed her eyes her emblem on her right shoulder a pink diamond glowed she opened her eyes and she made a finger gun with her right hand pointing at the hinges and a shiny pink light zaps comes out of her index and zaps the hinges, the beam turns into a hand and it open the door and then closes without making a cranking noise, "I should have done that a long time ago" said Matilda
She removes the blankets from her bed to reveal she is already clothed for a serious occasion, as she goes towards the mirror she is wearing a long cyan dress that trails all the way to her feed her top being smartly tight with short shoulder sleeves, she puts on long white gloves and glances over her diamond ring she lets out a small sigh and frown and puts it on, she trances over the mirror for a few seconds before snapping out of it, and she looks over to a miniature painting of her an her daughter when she was 6 she picks it up and smiles "I know you are eager dear you won't have to wait for long"
After Matilda ready's herself she open her window and conjures a light bird of the palm of her hand, the bird flew off to Hope's room where it sees her lying in her bed on her stomach, the bird soon returns to Matilda's room and land on her palm her eyes glows for a moment and the bird fizzes into a yellow cloud, "Well it looks like she actually listened not very common of her to do so, it means I can continue to do my plan unobstructed" she said with a smile.
Matilda leaves her room and walk across the hallway to the main hall then she claps her hand twice, and snap her finger, suddenly a figure jumps into the window it spins 180° and a muscular women stands up, she has a scar on her left cheek and short brown hair, she wore knight armour that cuts of at her shoulder emblem that looks like a dark grey shield.
"At your service my queen", she said with a salute
Matilda is startled for a moment, but then composes herself, "Sally there is no need for you to enter that way you can just wait for me at the hall entrance", she said.
"I was scouting the perimeter we have to make sure this place is safe and to make sure no one can harm the princess at her important day, I was up all night with my team searching every corner of the upper ring for any danger and-" Sally was abruptly cut off by Matilda.
"It was not your fault Sally, there is no need for you to prove yourself to me" Matilda said remorsefully, "You tried your best so you must eventually forgive yourself it wasn't anyone fault, it truly came from nowhere"
Sally's serious expression break into expression of regret as she shamefully looks at the ground
"Now is not time to punish ourselves over who we failed to protect but to make sure my daughter has a great birthday" Matilda said with determination
Sally's expressions of regret turned to a smile, "Yes my Queen, me and the royal guards have spent last few weeks clearing a safe path from the upper ring to the more presentable areas of the lower ring that ends at the great barrier" Sally says with a salute.
"Well I trust your judgement, you are now dismissed" said Matilda
Sally goes down the stairs of the central hall towards the doors "I won't mess up again" Sally said with determination
"Oh Houston" Matilda said while turning her head left and right, "where is he when I need him",
"I am right here your majesty" Houston whispered from behind, Matilda was startled and was annoyed on how everyone seems to sneak up on her, "Sorry for spooking you" said Houston as he polished his monocle "We are well prepared to begin celebration soon" he said as his hand pointed towards the empty hall.
Matilda stared at him, he then clapped his hands and an army of servants entered the hall setting up the chairs and tables, followed up by waiters quickly setting food on the table, and then 6 waiters came together to slowly lift the large 4 layered birthday cake with a milk white colour with chocolate cream on top of each layer, with "happy birthday Hope" spelled with strawberry topping on the side of each layer, with the glowing yellow number "16" candle at the top.
"As I was saying my Queen" Houston started "We just need to wait for the guests to arrive, I will let you know when you can call your daughter" Houston stops from a moment "Do you want anything else your majesty or am I dismissed?" he asked.
"You are dismissed Houston" said Matilda
Matilda walks up to Hope's room and slowly opens the door to find her laying in her bed
"One thousand one hundred and forty-two" Hope counted to herself, she paused and took a deep sigh, and tried to continue but then paused scratching her head "Um One-".
she was interrupted by her mother saying "Thousand one hundred and forty-three", "Unable to sleep dear?" She said with a smile, Hope gasped and she had the biggest smile in her face, her mother was a bit startled and asked "what is it you are smiling at?".
Hope pointed at her, jumped from her bed and as she was taking heavy breathes pointing at her mother clothes, "You don't sleep in this" she takes a deep breath and exclaims "which means I have got to get ready" and she runs to her closet to pick up something to wear.
Matilda takes a glance down at her clothes and rolls her eyes "so much for a surprise"
"I am ready mom" Hope said ecstatically, she was wearing a beautiful turquoise dress which complemented her hair colour styled in two plates with with joined with a pink band and wearing her favourite golden necklace,
"That was quick" her mother commented
As they enter the main hall a bunch of guests are seated drinking beverages and helping themselves to freshly baked foods, "Attention everybody, I would like you to welcome the birthday girl" said Houston, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards the princess.
She gets a bit nervous and let out an awkward "hey guys", she didn't recognize any of them but she had to pretend to know all of them while hoping they don't ask her if she knows them, they all continue to stare as she and her mother get seated.
Houston lets out a forced cough to break the awkward silence, he says "and now Princess that you have come here you may blow the candles", the table the cake was on was carried towards Hope and her mother seated on there high chair, Hope tries to mask her excitement as she takes a deep breath and gently blow the candles, which fire off the cake and make a small explosion spelling out "Happy Birthday Princess!", Hope's eyes lit with joy.
Trumpets play and two royal servants come into the hall holding a gold plated chest decorated with diamonds, the chest is slowly opened and a blinding bright light shined from inside it, "Go ahead dear" said Matilda as her eyes pointed to the chest.
Hope goes down towards the chest and slowly lowers her hand inside of it and grabs what inside, as she removes her hand from the chest it reveals her to be holding the magic wand, it had a purple handle with a sparkly cyan diamond at its back end and a translucent turquoise sphere at it top decorated with a white glowing shape which resembled the combination of a two star into two different planes inside, and topped off with a small yellow crown at the top
Hope's shoulder emblem a pink heart with a tiny crown on top of both curves starts glowing, she raises the top of the wand at eye level, "ooh what's this" she says as she tries to stick her finger inside it to touch the spinning star
"HOPE DONT" shouted her mother, as soon as hope touched it burnt her finger and she let out a painful screech and fires a yellow glowing beam fires from the wand at some guest who were quick enough to duck, it hits a glowing orange decorative plant crushing it against the wall,
"hehe this could have been worse", Hope said awkwardly, the wreckage catches fire...
"FIRE" yells Sally, the guards that were standing by the walls quickly moved and shoved away all nearby guest as Sally goes and faces the fire here shoulder emblem glows and she fires yellow beam at it from her hands she then she clenches her fist and the beam turns into water extinguishing the fire and a yellow cloud evaporates from it, she quickly turn over to Hope and rushes over to her "ARE YOU OKAY PRINCESS" she exclaimed worryingly.
"I am fine it's just my finger is a little -" before she finishes her sentence Sally picks her up and running with her in her arms and runs up to the door and out of the Palace.
Queen Matilda is left with the guests and lets out an awkward chuckle and says "so who wants some drinks?", "Please help yourself to the finest wines in the whole kingdom" she said as a servant reveals a bunch of wine bottles in gold coating, the guests all rushed to get a sip
"I am telling you I am fine it's just a little scratch its rude for me to leave suddenl-" Hope was interrupted by Sally kicking the door open.
"PA-" Sally yelled before being interrupted by a "SHHHH", she was shushed by a woman with a white robe that cut offs at the shoulder, and a hand crafted necklace made of cotton around her neck, she had red hair tied into a bun and a green plus sign as her shoulder emblem.
"Seriously Sally how many times do I have to tell you to be quiet in here" said healer Pam with frustration she lets out a sigh and asks, "So what seems to be the problem?" Sally pulls out Hope and holds her at arms length right Infront of her Hope lets out a "Hi".
Pam gasps "Oh my princess sorry I didn't know you were coming, are you hurt?"
"No not at all it's ju-" Hope was interrupted yet again it seems like although she is becoming a grownup no one seems to want to listen to her
"She burned herself quickly check up on her" commanded Sally as she lowered Hope to her feet, Pam glanced at her up and down
"Where was she hurt", asked her confused. Hope sheepishly pointed to her left index finger it was a bit red which could be easily seen as it contrasted with her smooth white skin, but it was also accompanied by a yellow 'liquid', Pam conjured a white napkin to clean the site of the injury and singled out the injured finger from Hope's hand and put her hand on it and made into a fist and then she took a deep breath and closed her eyes her shoulder mark started having a green glow for a few seconds and then it suddenly went dim, she opened her hand to find the finger fully healed like it was never even scratched.
"Oh wow t-thanks" said Hope with a smile.
"Oh it's nothing" said pam, she took out her napkin it had some yellow glowing spots of what looks like fluid except its it didn't soak in but floated around it, "I see you can use magic now, what was your first spell" Pam said with excitement.
"I-i just shot this out of the wand" she said as she pointed at liquid on the napkin that started evaporating considerably, she then lowered her voice and talked faster "and it hit a plant and set it on fire" she was saying as she looked at the floor, Pam laughed and Hope was starting to blush.
"Oh don't worry dear we all mess up at the start, when I first started I accidentally broke a boy's arm" Pam said with a laugh.
"Is he okay now?" Hope asked with curiosity
"Well when I was your age healing wasn't what it is today they just put his arm in a cast and said if he was lucky his arm would be usable in three years", "I never was interested in healing like my mom but I wanted to fix my mistake so I studied and practiced for months to focus my healing and one day it just clicked, I got back to him and I was able to heal his arm and this happiness a patient feels when they are treated makes this all worth it" she let out a calm sigh and continued "It was not an easy journey but in just 8 years I was able to reach my peak"
"Eight years?" Hope said in disbelief
"Don't worry your path is way longer than mine my peak is at least four levels lower than you" Pam said with a grin
"It isn't that huge difference right?" Hope inquired hoping her journey wont be in the double digits because that's a very long time
Pam laughed and then said "Oh it way larger than it looks, but don't worry royals don't have a peak at least not one that one knows off" she put her hand on Hope's shoulder "Don't let the long road overwhelm you as long as you are better than yesterday you will be a great princess"
Hope smiled at her and said, "Thanks a lot Pam"
"So is everything alright with her, she stuck her finger into the wand are you sure there wont be any complications" asked Sally
"She will be alright she might have lost her finger if she went deeper and then It will actually a challenge to fix, but this is what pain reflexes are for, it a blessing in disguise", replied Pam
Sally clapped her hands and said "Well we got to go now we cant keep the guests waiting thanks for your help Pam"
Hope looked over to her and said "You should come over it's my birthday you can go change the setting", "No dear being a Healer is big commitment what if someone is in need of assistance and I am not here but I appreciate the gesture, maybe I could arrange my schedule to be there next time, go enjoy yourself".
"Pam the amputee is ready for his second regeneration session" a voice called.
"The what?" exclaimed Hope.
"Oh it's a bit graphic you really don't want to see it, I got to go now send your mother my regards" replied Pam as she ran over to a patient
Sally and Hope went to the door and left.
"You know I was really fine, it was just a scratch" Hope said as she looked up to Sally, "It's kind of rude to just leave the guests hanging I could have just sucked it up-"
Hope tried to continue when Sally muttered under her breath "I won't forgive myself".
"What was that?" asked Hope.
"Nothing, it's just you can never be so sure and no one was stupid enough to stick there finger in the wand I was just making sure but since it wasn't serious we don't need to worry" Sally said with an anxious fake smile, Hope sensed there was something off about her tone but she didn't want to push Sally into an uncomfortable spot so she left it at that
Sally and Hope make it back to the palace and Matilda rushes to her daughter "Oh dear are you ok"
She said as she gave her girl a hug, Everyone was staring and Hope got a bit embarrassed "yeah Mom I am ok" Hope said, Matilda stood up and was about to say something before Hope pre-emptively said, "I know I know it was pretty stupid from me to to do what I did, I know the wand is not a toy and I promise I will be more careful with it" she said while avoiding eye contact
Matilda smiled and said "Well I appreciate that you understand that you messed up but that not what I wanted to say" Hope made eye contact and Matilda continued "As princess and future queen we will have you visit the LOWER RING" Matilda took her daughter's hand "Sure its not the safest or best place in the kingdom but a hermit ruler is a bad ruler"
Hope got extremely excited over this as she always wanted to see the rest of the kingdom the Lower ring, the Outer ring but she was always told no because Sally's word "It's way to dangerous, you are not ready, you aren't old enough" or her mother's word "Is there something there that you cant find at home?, The place isn't very hygienic" but how bad could it be it was still under the rule of the Moonshines. Life in the Upper ring and the palace get boring after a while, why would she wants to stay put there when there a whole world to explore?
"The escorts are waiting for us outside those who want to go with us are welcome to go" Said Matilda looking at the guests with a forced smile almost knowing the reaction. All of them tried to mask there faces of disgust as if Matilda just asked them to bathe in mud or even worse she said that the food at the legendary "façade haut de gamme" was just an overpriced scam. They didn't look very impressed, Matilda coughed and asked "Well?".
One couple went towards the exit and when they got to Matilda the man said "We are truly flattered by your invite my queen but I am afraid we have something important to do" the man paused and scratched his head trying to think of an excuse Hope looked over him and asked
"What's more important to than a trip to see the rest of kingdom its not like we can always get to do it" with an ecstatic smile the woman who was scratching her head stopped as if she got an idea she went over looked to Hope with a stupid fake smile and said
"Well sweetie we forgot to sign up our son for school and registration will be closing today" she turned over to her husband and elbowed him in ribs and asked "Isn't that right honey?"
The man nodded in agreement and they walked out and they led out an audible sigh and when they were just outside of earshot the man told his wife "Moonshines huh? You would think after what happened a decade ago they would get the memo" the woman looked back at the Queen then waved and looked back at her husband and said
"She is weak if this happened to me I will make sure those pigs wish they weren't born".
Following into there footsteps and sensing an opening other guests decided to excuse themselves outside and at this point Matilda stopped resisting she knew some wouldn't want to go but she didn't think that many would go and she looked defeated Hope turned to her and said "Well mom we don't need those nose in the airers it's there loss anyways"
A woman walked up to them "She is right you know in-law" that woman was Hope's paternal aunt Mary, she had short blonde hair and brown eyes wearing a yellow dress for the occasion "The only reason any off these arrogant buffoons came here is societal expectations much like basically everything here" she said while rolling her eyes "and they all dipped the second they had the chance, come on lets go"
As they walked past the doors Sally was standing just outside the door scanning the setting with her eyes, her eyes wandered and locked with Mary "You should relax Sally no need for you to be so tense" she said with a smile she then changed her tone suddenly and said with a frown and a in a low voice that Hope and Matilda couldn't hear "Me and Matilda can protect ourselves and we aren't relying on you and my niece was under my protection since she was six, all you need to do is drive the horses and look menacing" and then she put her hand on her shoulder and smiled and said with an audible voice "So you can feel a lot more at ease dear", Sally tried hid her feeling of guilt with a fake smile "Let's go" said Mary joyfully
Everyone got on the horse driven chariot, just a classical chariot nothing magical about it, it's a very ineffective method of transport but one of the most relaxing ones
"HEEEEEY WAIT FOR ME" yelled a girl from as she was she surfing a purple cloud wearing a long sleeved purple sweater and blue pants as she got closer she tried to slow down by tilting her body backwards but she lost control and started flying at high speeds towards Hope
"EM SLOW DOWN" shouted Hope.
"I CANT BRACE FOR IMPACT" they both closed there eyes with their arms covering there eyes but just before contact she was caught effortlessly by Sally one hand and her cloud in the other she crushed the cloud in her fist into yellow mist that faded away and put the girl on her feet she then crossed her arms and looked down and barked
"Miss Emberlynn Springfield you should know how dangerous using magic without experience is, and you can't just rely on something you can't even responsibly use to make up for your own lack of punctuality"
Ember looked taken aback but she didn't want to look stupid so she snapped back with "I didn't know Hope is celebrating her birthday early in the morning, birthdays are a night activity".
Sally who was crossing her arms now raised her eyebrow and simply replied with,"Lies you were told everyday for the last week not my fault you can't seem to be able to be punctual friend's birthday, do you simply not care?".
Ember now looked embarrassed and now was rolling her finger around her dyed purple hair "M-M-My rooster didn't wake me up" she said with a smile while shrugging her shoulder as if she is asking question and the question was 'will Sally let the lecture go'.
"This doesn't matter now anyways it's that Ems is here" interjected Hope with excitement as she put her arm around Ember's shoulder "We shouldn't be wasting time let's go" she said as she punched her hand up in the sky.
Matilda, Hope, Ember and Mary entered the Chariot while Sally rode one of the two horses moving it while the other was being moved by an over-armoured and visibly nervous man.
"Calm down Edmund its just a short trip by a defined path we will be in an out in an hour or two" commanded Sally looking at Edmund clearly getting tired of his lack of confidence.
"I am trying but its such a big deal, escorting not one not two but three royals into the lower ring, I am not sure if I can do this, If I mess up-- I am too young for the consequences" he said clearly on the edge of panic
Sally slapped her hands on his cheeks "Edmund calm down you can do this I know you can" she said, Edmund seemed to calm down a bit "The whole path is being heavily guarded you and me are the last line of an extremely deep wall of defences we are most likely just going to be there for company" she looked back at the cart and said "and besides it's not like the royals can't protect themselves, they are much stronger than us after all"
"That's what they said about fre-" Edmund mumbled before putting his hand on his mouth mid sentence, Sally expression changed to that of anger.
"What did you just say?" she barked.
Edmund realising his mess up and started shaking "Um- I was talking about ---- the nice weather we are having" he said trying to pretend that this wasn't the stupidest attempt at backtracking, before Sally was going to give him a piece of her mind Mary stuck her head out and said in annoyed tone
"Hey I am not getting any younger here", Sally and Edmund looked forwards and shook the horse reins and they got moving forward
As they got to the edges of the Upper ring they reached translucent yellow barrier "We are reaching the barrier you might feel a tickle" proclaimed Sally.
As the horse crossed the barrier the barrier walls phased through the cart and it phased through Mary and Matilda there shoulder emblems glowed a four pointed star and a diamond respectfully in a yellow hue when it got to Hope and Ember the cart got to a sudden halt and they were thrown forwards Hope fell on her mother while Ember face was slapped into the barrier which was at this point halfway through the cart.
Sally opened the door "Everyone ok" she took one look at Ember and let out an annoyed sigh she dragged her hand out of the cart and asked while trying to hide her frustration "Show me your emblem"
Ember scoffed and tried to tuck back her long sleeves but she couldn't get back enough and said while crossing her arms "I can't and I am not removing my shirt".
Sally wasn't having any of it and from tip of her index made a sharp grey magic beam, she flattened Ember's sleeve and made a small cut in her right shoulder showing a yellow star rotated slightly to the left, after the cut yellow gas evaporated from it "And this is why emblems aren't covered it's common knowledge Springfield" said Sally annoyed.
"My favourite shirt! This was very unnecessary" whined Ember and before she could say anything Sally went back to her horse leaving her alone she scoffed and went back to the cart and sat next to Hope crossing her arms.
"You okay there", asked Hope concerned.
"Yeah I am fine just another lecture", said ember looking at the windows
As Hope looked out the window the lower ring didn't seem so different from home, people dressed and walked smartly roads were clean but something was off she couldn't help but notice everyone wore long sleeves even though it was a summer and it's not proper etiquette and that's something else it was surprisingly hot, She took her head out through the windows "Hello stranger" she greeted a man walking nearby he took one solid look at her and looked towards her mother and Sally who was frowning and her hands free with her emblem glowing, he didn't say anything and turned back and proceeded to speed walk away in a few seconds he ditched the subtlety and ran away, Hope was pretty disappointed and got her head into the cart
"What did I do wrong?", Hope asked.
"Girl it's either because you were too friendly it felt fake" said Ember, Hope looked down "Or they were made to feel unwelcome by misses buzzkill in the driving seat" she remarked
A loud sound of crashing wooden boxes was heard and cart went to a halt
"What was that" commented Mary
"Something that isn't boring" Hope said with excitement before leaving the cart.
"Make sure all of them stay put in the cart I will be gone for a short while" said Sally to Edmund before running to the source of the sound Hope tried to follow her but was body blocked by Edmund with his arms crossed
"Sorry I can't let you go princess, Superior's orders", he glanced to the left of him to seeing Ember touching a fancy table Infront of a café just for it to poof into a yellow cloud,
"Ow splinters" she cried, the yellow cloud fizzled reveal a wooden table barely clinging to its shape with a bunch of makeshift wooden fixes that don't even match in colour
Edmund looked like he just saw a ghost and ran towards Ember who was now transforming outdoor expensive furniture into splinter traps
"Stop touching it" said Edmund before shooting out a grey magical hands towards her subduing her, "What's your deal" he scolded annoyed.
"No what's this place deal why is everything here so fake?" snapped Ember "You hearing this Hope this place is fa-" she then stopped and asked "Aye were is Hope?"
Edmund let her go and pulled on his hair "Oh no no no no no no no" he cried
"Is everything alright where is my daughter?" asked Matilda concerned, Edmund didn't know what to say but before he could make up an explanation Mary interjected
"Oh don't worry Mati she will be ok she is probably with Sally and besides she still has this necklace I gave her so I am sure she will be just fine" Mary said with her hand on Matilda's shoulder "and we can go have some tea and chit-chat while we wait I heard that Gilbert's tea shop has actually potable tea" she suggested Matilda sighed and decided to go with what Mary said and walked towards the shop. "What about me?" asked Ember, Edmund turned towards her with anger and barked "You are staying right here!".
"Sally where are you?" called Hope as she was walking she saw a little girl wearing a cute pink dress and smooth brown hair walking alone Infront of her, she approached her and asked
"Hey do you happen to see a tall lady around here?" she tapped on her shoulder to get her attention and suddenly a cloud of yellow gas evaporated out of her Hope and the little girl coughed and as the smoke cleared the little girl was wearing a poorly knit patchwork of randoms scraps of fabric and her hair was covered in dirt she had a brown circle on the side of her shoulder, Hope froze in shock "I- I am so sorry, it was an accident" she apologised "I can go get you a new dress or--" the girl just looked at Hope her eyes glanced her wand which was in her right hand as well as her royal emblem and then she started hyperventilating and burst into tears.
Hope got on to her knees and she gently put her hands on the girl's shoulder "Calm down calm down, it's alright, It's not your fault but mine"
"P-P-pwease do-don hu-hur meeee" the girl sobbed.
"What hurt you? no no no no" Hope explained trying to figure out from where the girl got the idea
Hope hugged the girl "Here calm down see I am friendly" she soothed, the girl seemed to calm down a bit and she started sniffing
She let her go and asked "So what's your name?"
"R-R-Rosie" replied Rosie.
"Ok Rosie I am so sorry for ruining your dress, do you remember were you got it from?" she asked
"Ms Bea had guys gib it to us" Rosie said
"Misses Bea huh" she wondered out loud "Well can you tell me were misses Bea is"
"Sowwy I can't tell you misses moonnnn" Rosie was saying before she looked she wanted to cry again
"Please don't cry" Hope pleaded "You don't need to tell me where you live just wait" Hope passed her wand to her left hand and put her now free hand to her pocket and pulled out a purple wallet and she pulled out a golden note with 50 written on it she passed the note to Rosie and said "Here give this to misses Bea and tell her I am so sorry for destroying your dress also" Rosie grabbed the note and stared at it, Hope pulled some wrapped candy she got from the party "Her have some candy too" the girl put her the note in her pocket and grabbed the wrapped candy she struggled with it a bit and she then passed it back
"Open it please" Rosie asked
"Oh you can't? it's quite simple here" Hope said she gently tapped the candy her emblem glowed for a moment and the wrapping fizzed out.
Rosie put the candy in her mouth and quickly chewed and swallowed it, she then gave Hope a hug, she let go after a moment "Thank you miss, Ms Bea says Moosines are scawy but aren't scawy"
"Scary why would we be scary" Hope asked in disbelief with a smile
Rosie looked around and said "I am sowwy I need to go" she turned back and ran away and took a turn and was just out of sight.
"You couldn't just stop causing trouble for one day? what did we pay you for?" Hope heard Sally barking.
The sound of Sally's voice came from an alleyway, as Hope entered the alley the clean white paint started fading into rotting maroon bricks and the smell became foul coming from the open dumpster "Ewwwww" Hope said as she lowered the lid to try and lessen the stench
"Hey you know it's rude to close the lid on someone trying to fetch themselves a meal" a bald man barked as he popped out like a jack in the box he had a white beard wearing over shoulder strapped brown pants with a black plastic bag for a shirt and a metal can of beans for a hat and his left eye with a grey iris spinning his shoulder emblem only consisted of a simple brown circle, Hope screamed and ran away "Oh beans was that a Moonshine?" the man asked himself "Well I probably should skip town" he said to himself with a goofy smile while snapping his fingers.
Hope stopped running and started panting "Now you are lucky I am not here in head bashing duty or I would have sent you to a one way trip to the Outer ring and the monsters there could deal with you" Hope heard Sally scolding, she walked to the end of the alleyway the place beyond it was extremely different people clothes were worn out in which the holes were covered up by half baked sewn rotting fabric the road didn't exist it was simply a dirt undefined path and walls were all made of rotting bricks same as that of the alley, windows were broken and the stench of garbage filled the air, Hope saw Sally tying up a bunch of muscular men with a magic rope.
Sally glanced over and saw Hope "Princess what are you doing here?" she asked with dismay the rope holding the gangsters vanished they got up and shook of the dust and looked up and saw Hope and they all ran away in terror "Moonshine here run awway". All of a sudden all the people went indoors and the windows were sealed shut with wood and hammered with nails and just like that the place looked like a ghost town.

For anyone who wants to see how things began.
https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/S97b2fqIjx
“In what universe would I ever do you a favor? “ I say, sweeping the floor of the reinforced barn.
“It’s not a favor, it’s a trade, bud.
What do you want in return? “ Trenchcoat asks from within the coffin-like cage.
“To be back home, 8 months ago. “ I reply.
Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to integrate myself into the day to day life on the farm. Things are still a grim, horrifying slog, but with every day it gets a bit easier to deal with.
“Give me something I can do. “ The creature pleads.
“Why, so I can wind up on the end of another ‘ Gotcha’ moment? I’m good. “ is my answer.
A few minutes of silence go by, Augustus breaks it.
“I don’t know many secrets of the universe. Facts, not really my bag. But I know a couple.
How about I share one with you?
No one, not the pope, not my brother, not the shit-bird perched on the highest branch of my twisted family tree, knows what happens when you die.
Some of us never will, of course. Others have ways of avoiding it, but at the end of the day, when the lights truly go out, we know next to nothing.
We do know one thing though. There is judgement, by who? Who knows? Why? Not important.
But at the end of the day, if your battery can’t be recharged, you really want to be thinking about how many marks are on each side of the ledger. “
I don’t reply, and for the next hour or so I ignore the pleading and hinting Trenchcoat does.
But that night, as I sip acidic tea, and try to get a handle on how in the fuck old televisions function, his offer is at the forefront of my mind.
He wants to kill, specifically 6 teenagers who, according to him, have been murdering classmates yearly in a twisted ritual.
He wants me to think this is some kind of noble act, he frames it as almost superheroic. The evil prick knows how I feel, knows that I see the blood on my hands every day, and would kill ( possibly literally) for some way to atone.
Is it a play? I honestly don’t think so, something about how eager the twisted thing is, about how he’s treating the situation as a buyer’s market makes me think something about this makes it important to him.
He offers me everything besides safety and protection. I’m desperate for help, but I have no way to hold him to any agreement.
So the thought rolls around in my mind, staving off the few hours of sleep I get.
“Okay, so, I have it on good authority that tea is supposed to taste better over here. What the hell is wrong with this? “ I say, sitting around an outside table with Sylvia, Dafydd and Colin.
Sylvia smiles, “ Barium, calcium, and a touch of castor oil. “
I look at the brew, then at her.
“If I had told you when you got here you need to drink that to mitigate the effects of working with void touched objects and creatures, you’d have assumed the worst, and found a way to avoid drinking it.
Good to see you becoming more perceptive though. “ Sylvia explains.
“That’s called paranoia, Syl. “ I reply.
She laughs, lighting a cigarette.
“Do you know why I’ve let you figure things out on your own? “ The ancient woman asks.
“Accepted? Yes. Understood, not in the slightest. “ I answer, wondering what sadist invented the scone.
“It’s because I need a leader. Someone who can understand, not a boy who puts his head down and listens to orders.
Someone who can make their own decisions when the time comes.
And I think that time is coming soon. “ Her statement feels like a question.
“If I chose to be here I’d be honored.” I counter.
“That attitude on the other hand… needs work.
Nikolas, today, we talk about what’s really going on.
We play a role in a much larger organization, us, and other families like us, are the ‘boots on the ground’ so to speak.
Our job is not to capture creatures, or horde esoteric goods. We do not foil the schemes of demons, nor blind those who look too deeply into the abyss.
We’re given information about events that could steer the path of humanity into a brick wall. And our job is to make sure they don’t happen. “ Sylvia reveals.
“Something is happening with these fights? “ I ask.
“As I said, perceptive.
Yes, it could be next week, it could be in a decade or two. Right now, we know very little about it, other than when it happens, it would be in our best interests to be of a high standing in the pits. “ She replies.
I absorb the information, and t drug laced tea in equal measure. As I do, I feel something, I feel I’m a part of what’s going on.
This is going to sound dumb as hell, but up until this point I hadn’t been taking things seriously. Don’t get me wrong, death is on the table, and I was trying to avoid that. But I was just treading water, hoping something or someone came by and to get me out of this situation.
But as Syl lays things out, I start to think of my place here, what I can be doing to better my state.
“Here is the part where you avoid telling me why you couldn’t have used anyone around here. “ I prod.
I keep her gaze, Colin and Dafydd shift uncomfortably.
“Augustus, he’s a tricky one. But a very lucky find for us.
I’ve tried 2 others. A boy and a girl, both I practically raised.
Marco, he was a warrior. But the demon got in his head. There was nothing that could be done beyond end his suffering.
Zelma, I won’t talk about.
That thing, it has a way of turning someone’s best traits against them. You, are a blank slate, but you’re family. You’re my best guess as to how we can use him to our advantage.
And this is why I need you, not to listen, but to understand. To see what’s happening, and make your own decisions. If I were to give you my knowledge, if I were to arm you with the best weapons, and the most powerful esoteric objects I know. He’d just have more to turn against you. “ Sylvia’s revelation scares me and puts a massive weight on my shoulders all at the same time.
Confidence and fear are both dangerous emotions. The two of them are almost like drugs in a way.
After eight months of mainlining fear, the tiny line of confidence Sylvia gave me, went straight to my head.
Trenchcoat told me where to find a video file. And after a couple of weeks of running it through every possible test I could, to check for any kind of manipulation, supernatural or otherwise, I watched it.
I was confident that the world would be much better off without the people committing the vicious acts contained in those twenty minutes of footage.
A teenage view of morality, I admit. But what do you want, I’m a teenager.
We watch the abandoned house from across the street. It’s a dingy, urban blight affected suburb, that being said, how no one seems to notice the seven foot freak with me, I have no idea.
The kid inside smoking stolen cigarettes and illegally supplied booze is a husky young guy of about 14. The half dozen kids that show up a couple hours later look closer to my age, last couple of years of high school I’m guessing.
The way they get into the house tells me they’ve done this before. The backpacks they all carry tell me they’re there for a purpose.
“How fucking funny would it be if I just killed you here and took off? “ Trenchcoat says, looming behind me.
I tense.
“It’s a joke. Out of my whole rotten family, Art and I, are close. I’m not going anywhere.
Unfortunately for you. “ Trenchcoat shoves me to the ground as he walks toward the house.
We get in through a basement window, I fit easily, Trenchcoat contorts his body to fit through the thin opening, somehow doing so silently.
I keep hearing Sylvia in my head. Telling me how she needs someone that can make his own decisions.
As I stand in the litter strewn basement, beside a creature with child murder on it’s mind I question the decision that I made.
At first the illumination is dim, nothing more than scraps of moonlight filtered through splintered wood. But with an industrial click, suddenly a half dozen lightbulbs bathe the basement in harsh, yellowish light.
Harsh, but not harsh enough to cause the reaction I see from Trenchcoat.
He squints and tries, unsuccessfully to turn away from the lights. Something about them is causing him discomfort. I get my hopes up for a moment he’s going to burst into flame or turn into dust or something, but no dice.
The sight of the walking nightmare looking pained and confused makes me panic. But before I can think of how I fucked up, I hear a voice.
The room, by the sounds of it, the entire house, has been rigged with speakers. Cleverly recessed in sconces and corners.
“Augi, long time no see. And I see you brought a little Renfield fella with you. “ The voice is modulated, Trenchcoat looks curious for a moment.
“Who, is this? You that clown that’s been fucking with Art?” He guesses.
The voice laughs, “Nope.
Who I am, is a guy who managed to find a few boxes of lightbulbs from ’93.
Then again, with eBay, that could make me just about anyone. “
Trenchcoat turns and looks toward the window we came in. He reaches a hand toward it, stopping a few inches away.
“That’s fucking interesting. “ He says, eyes darting around the room.
“Isn’t it though? “ The voice replies, clearly hearing the creature’s whisper, “ Tonight you get the pay for centuries of the worst shit committed by man or beast. I’ve made sure of that. No one in this house is going anywhere for the next 8 hours.
I’m sure the rest of the houseguests are pretty confused as to what’s going on. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let me give you the Cliff’s notes.
You kids have been killing a monster a year for half a decade. You were the perfect bait, and I have faith you’ll be able to outwit Augi long enough to make it out of here.
If not, you’ll still have helped kill one of the worst things to walk the face of the earth. “
“What the hell is he talking about? “ I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?
Yeah, these kids are more Scooby gang than Manson family. Don’t blame me for the fact it only took an out of context exorcism video and some promises of making things right with the universe to get you on board with killing them. “ Trenchcoat spits.
I feel afraid, stupid and small. Which is to say, lately, business as usual.
I begin to break lightbulbs, I notice no runes, or anything else that would indicate they have any kind of supernatural origin.
As the basement dims, Trenchcoat starts to breathe easier.
“What’s going on, what stopped you from leaving? “ I ask.
“This little shit is playing The Game. “ Trenchcoat says to himself as much as to me. He looks deep in thought, inspecting the glass from the bulbs.
“What are you talking about? “ I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I hear noises upstairs, frantic foot falls. Indecipherable shouting.
Trenchcoat turns to me, exasperated and filled with anger.
“You’ve heard of ‘Rules’ right? All that ‘Don’t turn left on East street at 3:24 am kind of shit? “ The creature starts, “More and more of them popping up lately. Can’t miss the things.
Well, your kind seems great at finding them, but fucking awful at figuring out what they are. It’s not someone’s new job, or creepy school. The answer is so damned simple, but all of you’ve missed it.
It's a game. It’s, The Game.
It’s ran by the thickest branches of my family tree, and the stakes are high enough even I don’t really understand.
And whoever has us here, he’s weaponized it. The crazy fuck. “
“Call on your family for help then. “ I say, starting to deal with the fear and confusion.
“You first. “ Is Trenchcoat’s reply.
I get his point, and for a twisted, shitty moment, I find myself relating to the murderous thing I’ve been saddled with.
“So what’s the plan? “ I ask.
“Get my hands on whoever’s been stalking me. Between A and B, probably kill those little do-gooders upstairs out of spite.
I need you to circumvent rules we come across. Humans need to agree to follow the rules, it’s why people encounter them in jobs and schools so much. I’m not human, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t get a choice. “ I’m shaking my head as Augustus relates his plan.
“We’re not hurting those kids. “ I say defiantly.
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.
But I’m a God damned child killing monster, bud! How long is that going to take to sink the fuck in?
Me not doing what I do, isn’t like giving up smokes. Think of it like not having a slash for months on end. Sooner or later, like it or not, I’m either finding a bathroom or pissing my pants. “ the rant scares me, but it makes me think.
Something about Augustus, it seems very, 90’s. Whoever was on the speakers was talking about the lightbulbs being from ’93. I’m picking up on a very distinct pattern.
I file that information with the rest of the disconnected lore I’ve managed to find on Trenchcoat as I follow him up the steep, narrow set of stairs.
He whips the thin wood door open, taking an aggressive, lurching step into the livingroom beyond. Surely ready to dispense too far quips and limitless violence, as per usual.
But that doesn’t happen, his rage filled scowl turns into a look of resignation, “Fuck”, is the monster’s last word before he disappears.
I cautiously walk up the loose splinter ridden stairs, expecting Augustus to be waiting around the corner, or engaged in combat with some other horror.
But once I get to the top, there’s nothing more sinister than a livingroom covered in dust and graffiti strewn with old bottles and new stains.
I know my chance when I see it. The particle board sealing the bay window is rotten, the glass long since broken.
No monster, no crazy family, I’ll take my chances with the streets of the U. K.
I tap the crumbling wood with a foot, it rattles, it won’t take much to make a hole.
I line up a kick, freedom no more than a quarter inch of rotten wood away.
“I wouldn’t do that. “ Says a voice behind me, male, around my age I’d guess, but with a confidence that makes me listen, “ Rigged with a load of C4 in the window frame.
Don’t take my word for it, guy wasn’t very subtle. ”
Sure enough, I see small wires running along the edges of the frame and embedded in the particle board.
I turn around, the six people standing in front of me have a vibe I can only describe as severe.
“Are we going to have issues? “ a slight, dark skinned guy asks.
“You making threats? “ I reply.
“No, he isn’t. “ it’s the same voice that warned me about the explosives. It belongs to a squared jawed kid with short black hair, he’s wearing a grey hoodie, and separates himself from the group. “ Call me Kent, and I’m in charge of making threats.
Sid, he’s our people person, he’s just trying to see if you’re someone we need to worry about. “
“We don’t have time to figure this kid out, leave him. “ a short, ginger girl says.
“Ami, why don’t I stay out of equipment, and you and Kent let me figure this kid out?” Sid says.
“I’m Nik. “ I volunteer.
“Good to meet you Nik. “ Sid says, walking around Kent, “Didn’t mean to start things off on the wrong foot.
We’ve just gotten used to doing these kinds of things in our own way over the past bit. We get a little… weird around this time of year if I’m being honest. “
I nod, apprehensive at giving any kind of detailed response.
“Derik” says a tall, pale guy, “ Research. “
“Liam. “ a tanned boy in a flannel shirt and deep blue jeans tells me, “ Oxford doesn’t talk, accident a couple of years back. I’m logistics, he figures spooky shit out. “
Oxford is thin and bald, his face looks much older than it should. Like he’s the victim of some kind of wasting disease.
Telling these kids the truth would be, complicated. And something about their war vet demeanor, makes me want to keep things simple.
So I give them a version of the truth. One where I was plucked from my room by Trenchcoat, and brought here for a slow death.
They buy it. I think.
“Well, I don’t know what this Jigsaw wannabe has planned, but trust me when I say, it can’t be much worse than the things we’ve went through. “ Kent says, trying to be reassuring.
“Just, one more thing. “ Sid begins, “ Why all the scars? “
I know I’ve won most of the group over, but I don’t like the look Sid is giving me.
“Work on a farm, on top of that, the family owns an auction. Lots of bent steel and splinters, what can I say? “ I say, trying to sound casual.
“Fair enough, that accent though. “ Sid’s look becomes almost predatory as he talks.
“Immigration my guy. What’s with the third degree? “ I reply.
“We’ve just met and I’ve only asked three questions.
Humor me here though.
You get taken in the night by that thing that winked out of existence.
Seems pretty nice of him to let you put on shoes. “ Sid lets his statement hang.
Kent turns, I don’t like where this is going. Panic and fear start to well up.
“What’re you thinking Sid? “ Kent asks.
“Kid’s lying. But he’s good at it. “ Sid answers.
“You saying this has turned into a, me, situation? “ Kent’s question starts a deep pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know if we need to go that far. But I don’t like the idea of him having seen our faces. I think this is a Liam situation. “ As Sid says this I look to Liam, who already seems deep in thought.
“Local cops will back our story, but he could go beyond them.
We tie him up until all of this is done, and we get some video of him putting a blade into the body upstairs. He goes telling any stories, it’s us and the locals versus some Yank on video stabbing the kid. “ Liam suggests.
I tried to fight, it went, embarrassingly. Kent had me on the ground in some kind of arm lock in about a second.
I’m bound to an old wooden chair with electrical cords, dragged into a room on the second floor where the chubby kid from before lays face down in a coagulated pool of his own blood. Surrounded by the trappings of misspent youth.
The door locks, and I stare at the corpse, wondering what in the hell went on up here, and in what universe are these psychopaths anything other than what they seemed on screen.
Time becomes almost malleable. I’m terrified to the point where every moment seems to stretch out forever.
Then, I hear it. A wet, organic noise. It starts below the body, and slowly starts to spread.
After a minute or two, the body starts to jerk and twitch. The room is dim as hell, but some kind of ropey, flesh-like substance, is sealing off the door.
I watch as the corpse clumsily gets to it’s feet. It’s skin pale, it’s throat slit to the point of near decapitation.
The head falls backward, obscenely with a small spurt of thick blood.
I scream, I thought I’d been getting used to being face to face with monsters. But fully bound, inches away from a kid that seems to be filled with a twisting mass of barbed, writhing, intestine like tentacles, I realize I’m not used to shit.
The ropey mass forms the barest suggestion of features, a shifting, lumpen mass of ever moving tendrils coming from what used to be the kid’s neck.
The sound spreads more, cracks in the floorboards and walls begin to show hints of the tendrils filling them in like spray foam.
No one is hearing my screams, or if they are, they have no interest in helping.
Ever wonder how you’d handle torture? I think if you’re the kind of person to be reading this, it’s likely you have.
I started by pissing myself.
The second the thin tendril touches my hand, I feel a blinding, flensing pain. I can do nothing but watch, as thousands of nearly hair thin spines tear and consume my flesh. As it slowly, almost, curiously makes it’s way up my arm, it leaves a bloodless, scarred furrow about an eighth of an inch deep.
My second reaction was to lose any pretense at defiance or dignity. I thrash and scream, beg and offer. All of this turning into choked sobs as the thing starts to do much of the same with another tendril.
It felt like I was in hell, every inch of me nothing more than a canvas for this artist of misery.
But pain, it can only go so far. Whether we’re talking about my tolerance, or this thing’s interest.
Mutilation, the brutal wedding of pain and loss. That was it’s next step.
A thick, almost centipede like tendril sits on my pinky like a hot iron. I can only watch in horror as I see fat, then muscle, then bone, then, nothing.
My voice shreds, I tear my wrists and ankles trying desperately to break the expertly tied wires.
My mind is at the breaking point, the creature in front of my makes a terrible, high pitched keening I assume is laughter.
My body is a roadmap of scarred pits and lines. My hand sports a cleanly severed finger. Fuck me, I wish things ended there.
Of all the important parts of the human body, the eye, tends to feel the least pain. Which isn’t to say, as I watched the greedy, grasping claws slowly take pieces of one of mine, it didn’t hurt, but the worst part, was knowing what was happening.
The vision in my left eye begins to distort at first, the edges getting blurry, then going dark. Bit by bit, chunk by irreplaceable chunk, the creature takes half my vision.
I can feel the shifting air on the bare socket, to call what I’m doing screaming, would be understating things to the point of absurdity.
My brain reels at what has just happened. I can feel my grip on reality begin to loosen, pain, worse than can bare, loss of half my sight, it’s too much.
My brain feels filled with static, for a few brief moments I swear, I can hear someone, a voice, trying to tell me something.
But then, a smell hits me. Something so foul, so alien, it yanks me back from the brink of disassociation. I gag and choke, as the air becomes thick with the rotten, chemical reek.
Then, I see it, I see, him.
As randomly as he disappeared, in an instant Trenchcoat is in the room.
He’s torn apart, wounds so deep and ragged, I can see the door on the other side of the room through the worst of them.
One arm is a twisted, broken mess, the flesh jacket torn to shreds of necrotic tissue.
The look on his face is panic, paranoia. A rictus grin of someone that has been kept on his toes for entirely too long.
He trembles and heaves, looking like he could fall over at any second.
He points his good arm at the tendril creature, who I notice has a too familiar eye suspended in it’s shifting features.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the motherfucker who just made me kill my favorite cousin, would you? “ Trenchcoat asks, his voice cracked, and strained.
He gets a confused keening in response.
“Bad day for you then. “ Augustus says.
There is no style to his violence, Trenchcoat grabs the shifting mass, his wicked, claw tipped fingers angling themselves in tendrils. As he lifts the thing, floorboards break, and it’s torn free from the root-like system it was creating in the room.
Three brutal slams cover me in ichor and pieces of creature. Trenchcoat tosses the mewling, twitching pile in a corner and looks at me with disgust.
“You let that thing do this to you? Fuckin’ pathetic, bud.
And who tied you up? “ The nightmare I’ve been cursed with chides me.
“The kids downstairs. “ I say only now realizing I’ve still been sobbing.
One handed, Trenchcoat snaps the wires, then stumbles backward, slowly sliding down the wall.
He coughs, grey, bloody phlegm hitting the ground.
“So, what’s the play here? If this shit broke you, I could use the spare parts, if not, well, you know what the Bible says.
An eye for an eye. “ Trenchcoat grins as he talks, nearly on the brink of death.
And that’s where I think I’m going to leave things. Because, honestly I don’t know what I’m choosing.
I’m mutilated, half blind, using too much of my energy typing to strangers online about things because, I’m so fucking alone here.
If you hear from me again, I hope I made the right move. If not, take this as a lesson on what happens when you screw around with the occult.

For anyone who wants to see how I got into this situation.
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/s/R0DAycoVIm
“In what universe would I ever do you a favor? “ I say, sweeping the floor of the reinforced barn.
“It’s not a favor, it’s a trade, bud.
What do you want in return? “ Trenchcoat asks from within the coffin-like cage.
“To be back home, 8 months ago. “ I reply.
Over the past few weeks I’ve managed to integrate myself into the day to day life on the farm. Things are still a grim, horrifying slog, but with every day it gets a bit easier to deal with.
“Give me something I can do. “ The creature pleads.
“Why, so I can wind up on the end of another ‘ Gotcha’ moment? I’m good. “ is my answer.
A few minutes of silence go by, Augustus breaks it.
“I don’t know many secrets of the universe. Facts, not really my bag. But I know a couple.
How about I share one with you?
No one, not the pope, not my brother, not the shit-bird perched on the highest branch of my twisted family tree, knows what happens when you die.
Some of us never will, of course. Others have ways of avoiding it, but at the end of the day, when the lights truly go out, we know next to nothing.
We do know one thing though. There is judgement, by who? Who knows? Why? Not important.
But at the end of the day, if your battery can’t be recharged, you really want to be thinking about how many marks are on each side of the ledger. “
I don’t reply, and for the next hour or so I ignore the pleading and hinting Trenchcoat does.
But that night, as I sip acidic tea, and try to get a handle on how in the fuck old televisions function, his offer is at the forefront of my mind.
He wants to kill, specifically 6 teenagers who, according to him, have been murdering classmates yearly in a twisted ritual.
He wants me to think this is some kind of noble act, he frames it as almost superheroic. The evil prick knows how I feel, knows that I see the blood on my hands every day, and would kill ( possibly literally) for some way to atone.
Is it a play? I honestly don’t think so, something about how eager the twisted thing is, about how he’s treating the situation as a buyer’s market makes me think something about this makes it important to him.
He offers me everything besides safety and protection. I’m desperate for help, but I have no way to hold him to any agreement.
So the thought rolls around in my mind, staving off the few hours of sleep I get.
“Okay, so, I have it on good authority that tea is supposed to taste better over here. What the hell is wrong with this? “ I say, sitting around an outside table with Sylvia, Dafydd and Colin.
Sylvia smiles, “ Barium, calcium, and a touch of castor oil. “
I look at the brew, then at her.
“If I had told you when you got here you need to drink that to mitigate the effects of working with void touched objects and creatures, you’d have assumed the worst, and found a way to avoid drinking it.
Good to see you becoming more perceptive though. “ Sylvia explains.
“That’s called paranoia, Syl. “ I reply.
She laughs, lighting a cigarette.
“Do you know why I’ve let you figure things out on your own? “ The ancient woman asks.
“Accepted? Yes. Understood, not in the slightest. “ I answer, wondering what sadist invented the scone.
“It’s because I need a leader. Someone who can understand, not a boy who puts his head down and listens to orders.
Someone who can make their own decisions when the time comes.
And I think that time is coming soon. “ Her statement feels like a question.
“If I chose to be here I’d be honored.” I counter.
“That attitude on the other hand… needs work.
Nikolas, today, we talk about what’s really going on.
We play a role in a much larger organization, us, and other families like us, are the ‘boots on the ground’ so to speak.
Our job is not to capture creatures, or horde esoteric goods. We do not foil the schemes of demons, nor blind those who look too deeply into the abyss.
We’re given information about events that could steer the path of humanity into a brick wall. And our job is to make sure they don’t happen. “ Sylvia reveals.
“Something is happening with these fights? “ I ask.
“As I said, perceptive.
Yes, it could be next week, it could be in a decade or two. Right now, we know very little about it, other than when it happens, it would be in our best interests to be of a high standing in the pits. “ She replies.
I absorb the information, and t drug laced tea in equal measure. As I do, I feel something, I feel I’m a part of what’s going on.
This is going to sound dumb as hell, but up until this point I hadn’t been taking things seriously. Don’t get me wrong, death is on the table, and I was trying to avoid that. But I was just treading water, hoping something or someone came by and to get me out of this situation.
But as Syl lays things out, I start to think of my place here, what I can be doing to better my state.
“Here is the part where you avoid telling me why you couldn’t have used anyone around here. “ I prod.
I keep her gaze, Colin and Dafydd shift uncomfortably.
“Augustus, he’s a tricky one. But a very lucky find for us.
I’ve tried 2 others. A boy and a girl, both I practically raised.
Marco, he was a warrior. But the demon got in his head. There was nothing that could be done beyond end his suffering.
Zelma, I won’t talk about.
That thing, it has a way of turning someone’s best traits against them. You, are a blank slate, but you’re family. You’re my best guess as to how we can use him to our advantage.
And this is why I need you, not to listen, but to understand. To see what’s happening, and make your own decisions. If I were to give you my knowledge, if I were to arm you with the best weapons, and the most powerful esoteric objects I know. He’d just have more to turn against you. “ Sylvia’s revelation scares me and puts a massive weight on my shoulders all at the same time.
Confidence and fear are both dangerous emotions. The two of them are almost like drugs in a way.
After eight months of mainlining fear, the tiny line of confidence Sylvia gave me, went straight to my head.
Trenchcoat told me where to find a video file. And after a couple of weeks of running it through every possible test I could, to check for any kind of manipulation, supernatural or otherwise, I watched it.
I was confident that the world would be much better off without the people committing the vicious acts contained in those twenty minutes of footage.
A teenage view of morality, I admit. But what do you want, I’m a teenager.
We watch the abandoned house from across the street. It’s a dingy, urban blight affected suburb, that being said, how no one seems to notice the seven foot freak with me, I have no idea.
The kid inside smoking stolen cigarettes and illegally supplied booze is a husky young guy of about 14. The half dozen kids that show up a couple hours later look closer to my age, last couple of years of high school I’m guessing.
The way they get into the house tells me they’ve done this before. The backpacks they all carry tell me they’re there for a purpose.
“How fucking funny would it be if I just killed you here and took off? “ Trenchcoat says, looming behind me.
I tense.
“It’s a joke. Out of my whole rotten family, Art and I, are close. I’m not going anywhere.
Unfortunately for you. “ Trenchcoat shoves me to the ground as he walks toward the house.
We get in through a basement window, I fit easily, Trenchcoat contorts his body to fit through the thin opening, somehow doing so silently.
I keep hearing Sylvia in my head. Telling me how she needs someone that can make his own decisions.
As I stand in the litter strewn basement, beside a creature with child murder on it’s mind I question the decision that I made.
At first the illumination is dim, nothing more than scraps of moonlight filtered through splintered wood. But with an industrial click, suddenly a half dozen lightbulbs bathe the basement in harsh, yellowish light.
Harsh, but not harsh enough to cause the reaction I see from Trenchcoat.
He squints and tries, unsuccessfully to turn away from the lights. Something about them is causing him discomfort. I get my hopes up for a moment he’s going to burst into flame or turn into dust or something, but no dice.
The sight of the walking nightmare looking pained and confused makes me panic. But before I can think of how I fucked up, I hear a voice.
The room, by the sounds of it, the entire house, has been rigged with speakers. Cleverly recessed in sconces and corners.
“Augi, long time no see. And I see you brought a little Renfield fella with you. “ The voice is modulated, Trenchcoat looks curious for a moment.
“Who, is this? You that clown that’s been fucking with Art?” He guesses.
The voice laughs, “Nope.
Who I am, is a guy who managed to find a few boxes of lightbulbs from ’93.
Then again, with eBay, that could make me just about anyone. “
Trenchcoat turns and looks toward the window we came in. He reaches a hand toward it, stopping a few inches away.
“That’s fucking interesting. “ He says, eyes darting around the room.
“Isn’t it though? “ The voice replies, clearly hearing the creature’s whisper, “ Tonight you get the pay for centuries of the worst shit committed by man or beast. I’ve made sure of that. No one in this house is going anywhere for the next 8 hours.
I’m sure the rest of the houseguests are pretty confused as to what’s going on. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so let me give you the Cliff’s notes.
You kids have been killing a monster a year for half a decade. You were the perfect bait, and I have faith you’ll be able to outwit Augi long enough to make it out of here.
If not, you’ll still have helped kill one of the worst things to walk the face of the earth. “
“What the hell is he talking about? “ I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?
Yeah, these kids are more Scooby gang than Manson family. Don’t blame me for the fact it only took an out of context exorcism video and some promises of making things right with the universe to get you on board with killing them. “ Trenchcoat spits.
I feel afraid, stupid and small. Which is to say, lately, business as usual.
I begin to break lightbulbs, I notice no runes, or anything else that would indicate they have any kind of supernatural origin.
As the basement dims, Trenchcoat starts to breathe easier.
“What’s going on, what stopped you from leaving? “ I ask.
“This little shit is playing The Game. “ Trenchcoat says to himself as much as to me. He looks deep in thought, inspecting the glass from the bulbs.
“What are you talking about? “ I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I hear noises upstairs, frantic foot falls. Indecipherable shouting.
Trenchcoat turns to me, exasperated and filled with anger.
“You’ve heard of ‘Rules’ right? All that ‘Don’t turn left on East street at 3:24 am kind of shit? “ The creature starts, “More and more of them popping up lately. Can’t miss the things.
Well, your kind seems great at finding them, but fucking awful at figuring out what they are. It’s not someone’s new job, or creepy school. The answer is so damned simple, but all of you’ve missed it.
It's a game. It’s, The Game.
It’s ran by the thickest branches of my family tree, and the stakes are high enough even I don’t really understand.
And whoever has us here, he’s weaponized it. The crazy fuck. “
“Call on your family for help then. “ I say, starting to deal with the fear and confusion.
“You first. “ Is Trenchcoat’s reply.
I get his point, and for a twisted, shitty moment, I find myself relating to the murderous thing I’ve been saddled with.
“So what’s the plan? “ I ask.
“Get my hands on whoever’s been stalking me. Between A and B, probably kill those little do-gooders upstairs out of spite.
I need you to circumvent rules we come across. Humans need to agree to follow the rules, it’s why people encounter them in jobs and schools so much. I’m not human, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t get a choice. “ I’m shaking my head as Augustus relates his plan.
“We’re not hurting those kids. “ I say defiantly.
“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.
But I’m a God damned child killing monster, bud! How long is that going to take to sink the fuck in?
Me not doing what I do, isn’t like giving up smokes. Think of it like not having a slash for months on end. Sooner or later, like it or not, I’m either finding a bathroom or pissing my pants. “ the rant scares me, but it makes me think.
Something about Augustus, it seems very, 90’s. Whoever was on the speakers was talking about the lightbulbs being from ’93. I’m picking up on a very distinct pattern.
I file that information with the rest of the disconnected lore I’ve managed to find on Trenchcoat as I follow him up the steep, narrow set of stairs.
He whips the thin wood door open, taking an aggressive, lurching step into the livingroom beyond. Surely ready to dispense too far quips and limitless violence, as per usual.
But that doesn’t happen, his rage filled scowl turns into a look of resignation, “Fuck”, is the monster’s last word before he disappears.
I cautiously walk up the loose splinter ridden stairs, expecting Augustus to be waiting around the corner, or engaged in combat with some other horror.
But once I get to the top, there’s nothing more sinister than a livingroom covered in dust and graffiti strewn with old bottles and new stains.
I know my chance when I see it. The particle board sealing the bay window is rotten, the glass long since broken.
No monster, no crazy family, I’ll take my chances with the streets of the U. K.
I tap the crumbling wood with a foot, it rattles, it won’t take much to make a hole.
I line up a kick, freedom no more than a quarter inch of rotten wood away.
“I wouldn’t do that. “ Says a voice behind me, male, around my age I’d guess, but with a confidence that makes me listen, “ Rigged with a load of C4 in the window frame.
Don’t take my word for it, guy wasn’t very subtle. ”
Sure enough, I see small wires running along the edges of the frame and embedded in the particle board.
I turn around, the six people standing in front of me have a vibe I can only describe as severe.
“Are we going to have issues? “ a slight, dark skinned guy asks.
“You making threats? “ I reply.
“No, he isn’t. “ it’s the same voice that warned me about the explosives. It belongs to a squared jawed kid with short black hair, he’s wearing a grey hoodie, and separates himself from the group. “ Call me Kent, and I’m in charge of making threats.
Sid, he’s our people person, he’s just trying to see if you’re someone we need to worry about. “
“We don’t have time to figure this kid out, leave him. “ a short, ginger girl says.
“Ami, why don’t I stay out of equipment, and you and Kent let me figure this kid out?” Sid says.
“I’m Nik. “ I volunteer.
“Good to meet you Nik. “ Sid says, walking around Kent, “Didn’t mean to start things off on the wrong foot.
We’ve just gotten used to doing these kinds of things in our own way over the past bit. We get a little… weird around this time of year if I’m being honest. “
I nod, apprehensive at giving any kind of detailed response.
“Derik” says a tall, pale guy, “ Research. “
“Liam. “ a tanned boy in a flannel shirt and deep blue jeans tells me, “ Oxford doesn’t talk, accident a couple of years back. I’m logistics, he figures spooky shit out. “
Oxford is thin and bald, his face looks much older than it should. Like he’s the victim of some kind of wasting disease.
Telling these kids the truth would be, complicated. And something about their war vet demeanor, makes me want to keep things simple.
So I give them a version of the truth. One where I was plucked from my room by Trenchcoat, and brought here for a slow death.
They buy it. I think.
“Well, I don’t know what this Jigsaw wannabe has planned, but trust me when I say, it can’t be much worse than the things we’ve went through. “ Kent says, trying to be reassuring.
“Just, one more thing. “ Sid begins, “ Why all the scars? “
I know I’ve won most of the group over, but I don’t like the look Sid is giving me.
“Work on a farm, on top of that, the family owns an auction. Lots of bent steel and splinters, what can I say? “ I say, trying to sound casual.
“Fair enough, that accent though. “ Sid’s look becomes almost predatory as he talks.
“Immigration my guy. What’s with the third degree? “ I reply.
“We’ve just met and I’ve only asked three questions.
Humor me here though.
You get taken in the night by that thing that winked out of existence.
Seems pretty nice of him to let you put on shoes. “ Sid lets his statement hang.
Kent turns, I don’t like where this is going. Panic and fear start to well up.
“What’re you thinking Sid? “ Kent asks.
“Kid’s lying. But he’s good at it. “ Sid answers.
“You saying this has turned into a, me, situation? “ Kent’s question starts a deep pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know if we need to go that far. But I don’t like the idea of him having seen our faces. I think this is a Liam situation. “ As Sid says this I look to Liam, who already seems deep in thought.
“Local cops will back our story, but he could go beyond them.
We tie him up until all of this is done, and we get some video of him putting a blade into the body upstairs. He goes telling any stories, it’s us and the locals versus some Yank on video stabbing the kid. “ Liam suggests.
I tried to fight, it went, embarrassingly. Kent had me on the ground in some kind of arm lock in about a second.
I’m bound to an old wooden chair with electrical cords, dragged into a room on the second floor where the chubby kid from before lays face down in a coagulated pool of his own blood. Surrounded by the trappings of misspent youth.
The door locks, and I stare at the corpse, wondering what in the hell went on up here, and in what universe are these psychopaths anything other than what they seemed on screen.
Time becomes almost malleable. I’m terrified to the point where every moment seems to stretch out forever.
Then, I hear it. A wet, organic noise. It starts below the body, and slowly starts to spread.
After a minute or two, the body starts to jerk and twitch. The room is dim as hell, but some kind of ropey, flesh-like substance, is sealing off the door.
I watch as the corpse clumsily gets to it’s feet. It’s skin pale, it’s throat slit to the point of near decapitation.
The head falls backward, obscenely with a small spurt of thick blood.
I scream, I thought I’d been getting used to being face to face with monsters. But fully bound, inches away from a kid that seems to be filled with a twisting mass of barbed, writhing, intestine like tentacles, I realize I’m not used to shit.
The ropey mass forms the barest suggestion of features, a shifting, lumpen mass of ever moving tendrils coming from what used to be the kid’s neck.
The sound spreads more, cracks in the floorboards and walls begin to show hints of the tendrils filling them in like spray foam.
No one is hearing my screams, or if they are, they have no interest in helping.
Ever wonder how you’d handle torture? I think if you’re the kind of person to be reading this, it’s likely you have.
I started by pissing myself.
The second the thin tendril touches my hand, I feel a blinding, flensing pain. I can do nothing but watch, as thousands of nearly hair thin spines tear and consume my flesh. As it slowly, almost, curiously makes it’s way up my arm, it leaves a bloodless, scarred furrow about an eighth of an inch deep.
My second reaction was to lose any pretense at defiance or dignity. I thrash and scream, beg and offer. All of this turning into choked sobs as the thing starts to do much of the same with another tendril.
It felt like I was in hell, every inch of me nothing more than a canvas for this artist of misery.
But pain, it can only go so far. Whether we’re talking about my tolerance, or this thing’s interest.
Mutilation, the brutal wedding of pain and loss. That was it’s next step.
A thick, almost centipede like tendril sits on my pinky like a hot iron. I can only watch in horror as I see fat, then muscle, then bone, then, nothing.
My voice shreds, I tear my wrists and ankles trying desperately to break the expertly tied wires.
My mind is at the breaking point, the creature in front of my makes a terrible, high pitched keening I assume is laughter.
My body is a roadmap of scarred pits and lines. My hand sports a cleanly severed finger. Fuck me, I wish things ended there.
Of all the important parts of the human body, the eye, tends to feel the least pain. Which isn’t to say, as I watched the greedy, grasping claws slowly take pieces of one of mine, it didn’t hurt, but the worst part, was knowing what was happening.
The vision in my left eye begins to distort at first, the edges getting blurry, then going dark. Bit by bit, chunk by irreplaceable chunk, the creature takes half my vision.
I can feel the shifting air on the bare socket, to call what I’m doing screaming, would be understating things to the point of absurdity.
My brain reels at what has just happened. I can feel my grip on reality begin to loosen, pain, worse than can bare, loss of half my sight, it’s too much.
My brain feels filled with static, for a few brief moments I swear, I can hear someone, a voice, trying to tell me something.
But then, a smell hits me. Something so foul, so alien, it yanks me back from the brink of disassociation. I gag and choke, as the air becomes thick with the rotten, chemical reek.
Then, I see it, I see, him.
As randomly as he disappeared, in an instant Trenchcoat is in the room.
He’s torn apart, wounds so deep and ragged, I can see the door on the other side of the room through the worst of them.
One arm is a twisted, broken mess, the flesh jacket torn to shreds of necrotic tissue.
The look on his face is panic, paranoia. A rictus grin of someone that has been kept on his toes for entirely too long.
He trembles and heaves, looking like he could fall over at any second.
He points his good arm at the tendril creature, who I notice has a too familiar eye suspended in it’s shifting features.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the motherfucker who just made me kill my favorite cousin, would you? “ Trenchcoat asks, his voice cracked, and strained.
He gets a confused keening in response.
“Bad day for you then. “ Augustus says.
There is no style to his violence, Trenchcoat grabs the shifting mass, his wicked, claw tipped fingers angling themselves in tendrils. As he lifts the thing, floorboards break, and it’s torn free from the root-like system it was creating in the room.
Three brutal slams cover me in ichor and pieces of creature. Trenchcoat tosses the mewling, twitching pile in a corner and looks at me with disgust.
“You let that thing do this to you? Fuckin’ pathetic, bud.
And who tied you up? “ The nightmare I’ve been cursed with chides me.
“The kids downstairs. “ I say only now realizing I’ve still been sobbing.
One handed, Trenchcoat snaps the wires, then stumbles backward, slowly sliding down the wall.
He coughs, grey, bloody phlegm hitting the ground.
“So, what’s the play here? If this shit broke you, I could use the spare parts, if not, well, you know what the Bible says.
An eye for an eye. “ Trenchcoat grins as he talks, nearly on the brink of death.
And that’s where I think I’m going to leave things. Because, honestly I don’t know what I’m choosing.
I’m mutilated, half blind, using too much of my energy typing to strangers online about things because, I’m so fucking alone here.
If you hear from me again, I hope I made the right move. If not, take this as a lesson on what happens when you screw around with the occult.

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The following two brain scans were provided by the Neuro-Warfare branch of the Halcyon Security Division (HSD) for the purpose of analyzing the thoughts, behaviors, and information of notorious gangsters Vincent 'Troy' Cohen and Bruno (Deadname: Koraak Tel-Char). At the point of the recording of this archival shared, Bruno has since received his rebirth therapy, and Vincent is currently serving a long-term rehabilitative and reeducative sentence in the Erebus Supermax Prison on Io.
Warning: the contents of this archival shared may be especially disturbing to some audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.
Warning: the contents of this archival shard are for the sole purpose of analyzing the thought patterns and memories of certain degenerate criminals in an effort to ascertain vital information that can be used to eliminate their organizations. Only staff with clearance level Omega may view this archival shared, and the viewership of this archival shared by anyone of inadequate clearance level will lead to twenty years in prison and a fine of over a hundred thousand credits.
Booting up memory scan: Vincent 'Troy' Cohen, November 4th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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"Do you have visuals of the target, Troy?"
I knelt down in the alleyway, the bodies of me and my partners shrouded in long, waterproof, ashen-gray overcoats the shade of dirty street scum that we wore to ward off the constant heavy rainfall the color of osmium. Our faces were covered in a mix of scrapped respirators, visors, or full metal face masks carved with intricate designs to hide our identities. On our waists were our badges of honor: leather belts studded with interlocked rivets made from blackened titanium, each buckle forged of silver and shaped into the head of our gang's symbol, the black mamba. We hid amongst the shadows of the dark midday of Halcyon City, the heavy, oppressive rains blanketing the roads paved obsidian-black with asphalt and weathered concrete walkways. The street lamps were always on, like beacons of false hope in a storm of melancholy.
The city was dark and dreary as always, the planet of Proxima Centauri B, renamed Dawn's Lamentation over a century ago, orbited the red dwarf star of Proxima Centauri, and the atmosphere was thick with natural smog and ever-storming rain clouds. That didn't dissuade people from living here: there was plenty of money to be had for shrewd industrialists and hardworking pioneers, even in the urban sprawl. But that life also came with risks, especially for those on the bottom of the totem pole.
I was a ganger, and we were criminals; full stop. I won't assault you with some spiel about how we're the good guys fighting oppression because, at the end of the day, we could be just as bad, if not worse, than Halcyon's Security Division, or the HSD for short. We were traffickers, killers, extortionists, and money launderers. We dealt with everything from stolen tech and military-grade hardware to hard drugs and sentients.
Yes, sentients. We trafficked sentients, but not in the way you might think. They weren't prisoners, in fact, we were their saviors if they had the cash. We had developed a reputation for fighting the power, but it was still business: sure, freeing captives from the clutches of the Protectorate. The disruption of its many oppressive organizations held a certain satisfaction in my heart for sure, but we didn't help those who couldn't pay unless someone else paid on their behalf. It was about making sure me and my gang, my family, could live a decent life for another day.
It helped that most of us joined after leaving the state yard for partaking in acts of 'degeneracy' and 'anti-xenopet illegalities' as if those terms meant anything anymore other than that we were a threat to the local status quo. It was hard to pick up a job as a former inmate when even in something as harsh and backbreaking as a job in the iridium mines near the poles when the employment office had you blacklisted as a degenerate, which lead to the formation of many of the gangs: we needed to make a living somehow, and when all social programs were cut off from you unless you submitted for 're-education' and the only way to put food on the table was subverting, breaking, or even downright fighting the law, you did what you had to do or you died on the streets a scorned beggar.
It wasn't like the HSD made it easy for us on even a good day: the local HSD units were armed to the teeth with advanced, military-grade hardware that you'd often see on the front lines of the Second Authority War: armored assault transports, a myriad of advanced war droids, all sorts of chemical countermeasures that made tear gas seem like putting the garden hose on mist mode, and of course advanced firearms. Add that to the fact that they were authorized to use deadly force when they deemed it necessary and you had a ruthless, heartless, and nearly unstoppable enemy. But we could make that work: we weren't trying to stop them, just to withstand them.
"Yeah, I got eyes on the prize, Koraak; seven armored transports, two for droids, five for prisoners."
Today wasn't a day for a normal job: we were getting bolder, cockier, more ambitious. Our numbers had swelled for the last few years after the raid at Barnard's Star and the fall of the Blood Dragon Mafia. Their leader, Saito Yasuhide, had committed seppuku as their manor burned, and his twin sons had gone down fighting rather than allowing themselves to be captured simply to face a firing squad. In the aftermath, many of the family's associates had fled to the surrounding systems, and with the sheer size and scope of the criminal underworld found here, it was no wonder that many people who had developed skills of the less legal variety had decided to form ranks with the gangs, and with them they brought guns, tech, knowledge, contacts, and even something that we thought wasn't possible beforehand: a semblance of peace between the gangs, or at least the closest thing to peace that gangs could cultivate effectively. With the fall of the Blood Dragons, we saw the writing on the wall, and the writing couldn't have been clearer: work together or die together.
"Sounds like a massacre, Troy: are you sure we can handle seven?"
"We ain't got no choice, Cinder: this job's double the usual rate, and that's not including the weapons and gear we could scrounge if this goes well," I hissed, my eyes scanning for any resistance. There were at least four guards for each van, not to mention at least eight droids in total, meaning that we were already outnumbered, but we had the element of surprise: we could make it work. "So put your balls in your purse and get ready to spill some blood."
Koraak snorted at our antics, which sounded like someone pulling the ripcord on a lawnmower. He was a veteran Russu Corsair, and while his past of slaving, raiding, and killing was unsavory, so were the lives we'd lived, so who were we to judge? All we cared about was that he was a brutal and capable fighter and a loyal brother in arms. It turned out that being a ganger wasn't much different from being a Corsair: you lived and died by a code of honor, you fought to the death for your brothers, and you lived to die for the sake of your gang and your family, simple as that. In a strange, ironic way, it was an incredibly honest way of life: we were under no illusions as to what we were, what we did, and why we did it, and we'd long since accepted it. The Russu related to us in that aspect, in many ways I could respect, which is why I hated what the Protectorate was doing, and why I couldn't grasp how most of humanity could just collectively lose their marbles so long ago. What had happened for us to deem all other life below us in such a demeaning and infantilizing way?
The Russu were a race of tall, muscle-bound Saurians with avian features, and Koraak was no exception: reaching almost seven feet in height and weighing over four hundred and fifty pounds, he could be an absolute menace if he so desired. His skin was covered in stubby, knobby scales and dense plumage, with elegant feathers adorning the ridges along his back as well as his forearms, elbows, knees, and the crests on his head. He almost looked like how paleontologists described velociraptors, with razor-sharp talons, feathers shaded in vibrant greens, reds, and purples, and a maw full of sharp teeth, but at the tip of his snout was a sharp, beak-like growth meant for ripping flesh off the bone.
The Russu were strange as hell, but they also looked almost cute in the same way a fully grown alligator was cute: they were obviously dangerous, but humans would always have this innate desire to anthropomorphize them and to pet them for some inexplicable reason, although common sense usually prevented that, at least amongst the very few of us left that were sane.
"Shut up, Troy! All I'm saying is that that'll be rough, and you know it," hissed Cinder. Cinder was a tall black man whose coffee-colored skin was covered in tattoos. He wore an ebony mechanic's jumpsuit with metal inserts underneath his grimy overcoat covering his body and a faded black respirator on his face. His eyes were a startling blue that seemed sorely out of place, and his hair was braided into thick cornrows along his scalp. He wore a pair of heavy black combat boots and palmed his compact shotgun in his hands, the square barrel less than seven inches. Like a lot of the weapons the Black Mambas carried on their persons and dealt in, they fired caseless ammunition; in Cinder's case it was 16x40mm caseless shotshells filled with depleted uranium micro-flechetes no thicker than a toothpick. Cinder nervously fiddled with the detachable tube magazine underneath the barrel, his hands shaking. Despite the shit I have him, I didn't blame him for being anxious: I was anxious too, even if I refused to show it. The biting cold of unease and pessimism was in my stomach, and I ran all the way that this job could go wrong in my head over and over.
"Just hold yourself together, this ain't anything we haven't done before, there's just more of it," I reassured Cinder, "besides, we're not alone; we have reinforcements across the street. We'll make it out of this alive."
Cinder nodded almost absentmindedly, his eyes downcast and his breathing shallow. I turned from him and back to Koraak, who was making sure he had everything on his person; he had a synthetic leather bandoleer across his chest that contained the heavy eight guage depleted uranium slugs he kept loading and unloading into his much larger, longer, and more traditional shotgun he nicknamed ‘carnage’ and several leather straps that held his Tu'shan daggers: traditional Russu pyramidal blades forged from a silvery alloy with all three edges serrated and the tip barbed to leave behind horrible, gaping wounds that gushed blood. They were wickedly sharp and absolutely straight like a stiletto, and the hilts and pommels were beautifully decorated. He wore no clothes underneath his overcoat to cover the countless scars and blemishes he's earned in combat across his chest and abdomen, and instead of a normal respirator or visor, he simply wore a hood over his head and some traditional Russu facial armor to protect his mouth, eyes, and cheeks.
"You ready to fight, Koraak? The caravan will pick up and leave soon."
Koraak was silent for a moment before nodding, a human gesture he had picked up after serving as a soldier with the Black Mambas for years. "I'm always ready to fight," he said before lifting up his shotgun and aiming down the sights at the reinforced front wheels of the first armored car in the caravan. He exhaled and fired, the slug ripping through both front tires and causing them to deflate and fall apart. The echo of the shot rang through the alleyway and the street, causing pedestrians to panic and flee the scene as heavily armored guards poured out of the side doors of the armored cars and unholstered their carbines.
"Go, now!" I shouted, and both me and Cinder rushed out into the fray, our guns raised. Koraak was right behind the two of us, providing covering fire with his shotgun. Several guards fell quickly, Koraak's precise fire and the sheer force of the depleted uranium slugs putting them down for good as their heads were vaporized or their chest cavities were turned to mush. He emptied the tube with one final shot that painted the grey matter of a security guard on the door of one of the armored cars, then racked the shotgun and expertly loaded it in threes, his hands deft and agile as he reached for more slugs faster than any human.
With the cacophony of our initial assault, more Black Mambas poured out from the alleyways and the subways, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons; shotguns, submachine guns, pistols, machetes, baseball bats, and all manner of homemade explosives. Molotovs and more potent concoctions shattered against the asphalt, herding in the caravan guards with their volatile contents as they were quickly gunned down. The assault was working, and we were winning.
Then I heard the robotic whine of a combat droid activating, and my heart sank. One of the armored cars in the back activated the four combat droids it held, the robotic assault units detaching from their charging ports on the sides of the large van and began to form up, each armed with a terrifying array of deadly weapons meant to quash any and all resistance. They were blocky, soulless, utilitarian things that stood at eight feet tall, with flat feet meant for stomping and blades, grasping claws designed to lacerate flesh and shatter bone. On each shoulder was a weapon: on the left was a multi-barrel rotary grenade launcher loaded with 15mm concussion grenades, and on the right was a burst-fire splinter cannon. They were all painted a dull grayish-green, the color of Halcyon's Security Division, although some had a few decorations on them: the one closest to me had a bit of graffiti on the side that said Mr. Hugs in Comic Sans, which I couldn't decide whether that made it more or less terrifying. They split up without hesitation and began to scan the chaotic battlefield, their single, red, beady lenses the security forces had the gall to call eyes focusing on specific targets to eliminate.
An entire group of Black Mambas was torn to pieces by a cloud of flechettes as one of the droids fired a withering three-round burst of shotshells from the four gauge splinter cannon mounted on its shoulder. Another picked up a Black Mamba in its hand and crushed her skull effortlessly before tossing her limp body to the side, its single, red, remorseless robotic eye tracking a new target. Most bullets that struck their thick armored chassis simply bounced off, and those that could pierce the armor didn't seem to phase the droids whatsoever, merely notifying them of a new potential target.
"Damnit," I shouted as I gunned down another guard only for two more to take his place. "Cinder! We gotta pop open the cars and scram! Get the maglock cutters!"
Cinder rushed and slid over through a dirty puddle, pulling out a maglock cutter from the inside of his coat and slipping it onto the back door of the first van. It immediately went to work, drilling through the maglock with a high-powered plasma torch nozzle, and within ten seconds we heard the telltale clunk of the maglock separating. I yanked the door open and ordered I side, ready to escort the prisoners out… only for my face to contort in shock and horror.
The back was empty. There was not a single soul inside of the back brig of the armored car.
"What the fuck…" Cinder gasped, his eyes wide with shock. "What the actual fuck… what the fuck is this, Troy?"
"I… I don't…" I stuttered the sounds of battle and carnage drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in my ears. All five cars were supposed to be filled with recently captured Russu from the front lines ready to be housed in the local Xenopet-Megaplex for processing and conditioning. The fact that this one was empty…
Suddenly, it all hit me at once with the force of a freight train, but it was too late. "We were set up, Cinder; our fucking client either squealed or was crooked to begin with…"
"Fucking bitch!" Cinder shouted as he spun around in an enraged arch, anger growing in his eyes. He aimed his shotgun at an approaching security guard and reduced his upper body to a fine red mist with a cacophony of shotgun blasts. "We gotta get everyone who's left out of here! Do you know what this means? The Jurors will be here soon, and then we're all going down! We gotta go, fuck the job!"
I grit my teeth. Not the Jurors, anything but the Jurors.
"Fine, gather everyone who's left and we'll slip through the sewers, the droids are too bulky to follow us there…"
As I spoke, my eyes wandered to the seventh and final armored car, the second of the droid cars, and my blood froze. Not only were all four ports empty, but they were also smaller and more shallow than the ports for the combat droids. That could only mean one thing.
"Oh fuck! Cinder, we gotta get our Russu members out of here! They've got arachnid droids!"
Arachnid droids were the stuff of nightmares. Resembling blocky, robotic arachnids the size of a manhole cover, they were specifically designed to take down sentient aliens, specifically the Russu, using sickeningly non-lethal means. They were equipped with full-body adaptive cloaking to blend in with their environments, paralytic agents that they could inject into their victims, built-in taser barbs, psychedelic gas ports for crowd-control, and a narrow-coned cacophony canon that disabled the Russu using incredibly high-pitched sounds that only they could hear, forcing them onto their knees and clutching the backs of their heads where their auditory organs were stored in agony. But worst of all was their stygian spinnerets: special ports near the end of their robotic abdomens that excreted a viscous, latex-like substance made up of millions of nano-bots. This substance could be used to render Russu blind, deaf, and mute by having it forced onto their faces, the black substance growing and enveloping their heads and working its way into every orifice. It was completely permeable to the standard atmosphere, but any Russu who had been 'webbed' was completely helpless and essentially captured, and the 'webbing' was both nearly indestructible and nigh impossible to remove without a triple-encrypted override key that was found in every arachnid droid's code, which was corrupted when the droid was destroyed or hacked into. Once you were 'webbed', you were essentially captured and the standard protocol was to leave you to the wolves since the nano-bots could be tracked, endangering the entire gang.
I turned just as I heard the deafening sound of Koraak discharging his shotgun, and I saw him squaring off against one of the assault droids. The droid has obviously been programmed to not use lethal force against Russu if possible, as instead of simply killing Koraak with it's shoulder-mounted splinter cannon, it approached with its claws extended, blades retracted. Koraak continued to back away and fire, pumping the droid full of depleted uranium slugs, its armor crumbling inward as the slugs pierced its chassis and damaged its internal cyberstructure. Eventually, Koraak ran out of slugs and instinctively reached to his bandoleer only to find that he had no more shells left at all, and he drew one of his knives and his sidearm, a simple high-caliber handgun. He tried to take down the droid with his handgun, but the bullets didn't even seem to affect the droid upon penetration, it's claws still extended as it attempted to apprehend Koraak.
In the corner of my vision, as I watched Koraak battle with the droid, I noticed a faint shimmer in the air on one of the black streetlight poles that was right behind him. I focused on it and blinked, believing my eyes had deceived me for a moment before realizing that it was actually a cloaked arachnid droid stalking Korvaak, ready to pounce and incapacitate him.
Before I could shout, it leaped from the pole and landed on Korvaak, causing him to shout in surprise while it began to coagulate its horrifying stygian webbing to disable Korvaak. Korvaak tried to wrestle it off of him, but the droid was agile and fast, clinging onto Korvaak and skittering around across his upper body as he attempted to grab it, forcibly wrapping the sticky black liquid across his face as he gagged like a spider wrapping up a fly. I rushed towards him to try and help, but I felt pain explode in my ribs as I was struck with the arm of the closest combat droid and launched into the chassis of a parked car, the metal denting from the sheer force of impact. I groaned in pain as I saw stars and my head spun, and just then I felt a blinding light be cast over me.
“Drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head, or you will be pacified with deadly force!” Shouted a loud, artificially deepened voice from above. “I repeat, drop your weapons and kneel with your hands on your head! Neither hostility nor hesitation will be tolerated!”
It was the Jurors, I could feel the air being pushed around from the thrusters on their drop ships, and I could hear screams and shouts as my fellow Black Mambas were quickly gunned down. I couldn’t see well since I was seeing double, but I could hear the slaughter as my eyes dimmed and I began to lose consciousness, my regrets crawling up my throat like vomit.
I’m sorry was all I could think as everything finally went dark, and the sounds of chaos, destruction, and combat faded away.
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Memory halted due to loss of consciousness. Booting next available memory in shard…
Booting up memory scan: Koraak Tel-Char Bruno, November 5th, 2446…
Loading and processing firmware data… translating… memories and subconscious simulated…
Beginning archival shard presentation…
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“Good morning, sleepyhead; it’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes shot open. I was not in the street anymore, nor was I home in my bed with my mate. I knew instantly that something was horribly wrong. I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t gain the leverage to do so: my ankles had been shackled together with magnetic cuffs and my arms were forced together in front of me.
I was wearing some kind of thick shirt. It was warm, fluffy, and comfortable on the inside, but it still made me incredibly uncomfortable that my arms didn’t have a free range of motion. I looked down to see that I was wearing some human garment I had heard about before, a straightjacket maybe?
The entire room was padded: the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. There was no bed or furniture; the floor was soft enough to serve as a bed in itself. There was nothing else except for the soft reddish-orange lights on the ceiling that somehow made me sleepy. I blinked slowly for a moment, my body screaming at me to just lay back down and lose consciousness, but I couldn’t do that: I needed to figure out where I was and how to escape.
Then I noticed who was speaking to me: it was a short human female, with crow's feet around her blue eyes, blonde hair braided down her back, and freckles all over her face. She had a soft smile on her lips, and her forehead was slightly crinkled. She wore a full-body white lab suit with a white overcoat and a pair of glasses for snugly on her face.
"There we go, now I can see those pretty eyes, such a beautiful shade of teal," she cooed softly, "You're such a handsome boy, even with all those scars: I'm sure you'll be adopted very quickly once we get you fixed up."
Fear gripped my heart as I began to piece all the evidence together. I had been captured; I was no longer on Halcyon, and instead, I was in one of the horrific space-born facilities I had heard so much about from the inside agents. I started to hyperventilate and squawk like a newborn hatchling, my eyes dilating in panic. This couldn't be happening! This has to be a nightmare!
The human woman merely wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace, cradling my head under her chin and speaking softly. I couldn't bite at her or claw at her: I was muzzled and wearing a straight jacket, so I had no choice but to allow her to coddle me.
"It's okay, sweetheart: I understand you're scared, but Julie's here to make all the pain and bad thoughts go away," she said as if she was comforting a child, which made anger blossom in my chest indignantly. "I'll be your caretaker for the next few months, and I'm going to make sure you're healthy, happy, and most importantly safe while you're under our care. I'm sorry to say that includes your restraints and restrictive clothing, but we have to make sure you aren't a threat to yourself or others before we can determine if it's a good idea to remove you from suicide watch."
I growled under my muzzle. Suicide watch? They must have had a lot of instances of Russu taking their own lives after being captured, something I wished I had been able to do before that damnable droid launched itself onto me and…
I shuddered at the thought of the black, viscous substance forcing itself into my nostrils and down my throat and windpipe, gagging me and rendering me completely helpless. It was so cold, so harsh, like slime, and when I had tried to tear it off of my face it merely attached itself to my claws and bound my talons together. I remember squirming on the ground as it enveloped me, unable to see, hear, or speak, and then everything went dark in an instant. It was the most horrible thing I had ever experienced, which was saying something.
"You alright, sweetheart? Oh, I know, you're probably hungry! Here, try some of this." She held up a piece of what looked like raw bacon and wiggled it in front of me before reaching out to remove my muzzle. In an instant, I attempted to snap at her only for pain to blossom in my forehead and my eyes to roll up in my head as I convulsed. It was like something was attempting to drill through my skull from the inside, and every breath felt empty and labored.
"Now, that didn't feel very nice, did it? This is why we have countermeasures in place because we can't trust you yet, sweetheart! Don't worry, we'll work on breaking you of all those bad behaviors and habits while you're here; after all, a well-trained pet is a happy pet!" She began to stroke the crests on my head as I slowly recovered, and she snugly fit the muzzle back onto my snout. "But I won't hold it against you this time, sweetheart; you're just scared and confused, but I'll make all the pain go away."
I struggled in the straight jacket, trying my best to break out of it, but it was no use. Eventually, I became exhausted and despondent, allowing my new caretaker to have her way with me as she gently ran her fingers through my feathers and along my ridges, quietly speaking to me in a hopeless attempt to cheer me up. She seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being, which concerned me even further: who could be this naturally twisted while attempting to be as benevolent and kindhearted as possible?
I felt the pain and terror build up in my chest, the anxiety from what horrific activities I imagined they had planned for me here. I couldn't take the infantilization, the lack of any autonomy, the dehumanization, and what I feared the most was if the rumors of 'rebirth' were true: would they take my personhood from me?
Suddenly, I felt her whisper to me. "Don't worry sweetheart, I know you're so scared and confused, but I promise you everything will be okay: it's going to be your birthday soon, and then everything will get better." She ran her fingers through the feathers along my crest lovingly. "It will be such a wonderful day, and then we'll choose for you the most wonderful family, and you'll spend the rest of your life happy in your forever home! Doesn't all of that sound wonderful?"
I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to lose myself, not like this, not to these monsters!
"It'll be your birthday soon," she said wistfully as if she was remembering similar events to this in the past like I wasn't the first she'd done this too, "and you'll never be sad again."
I realized that I wasn't the first the stay in this particular cell, and I knew for certain that I wouldn't be the last: I'd end up like my brother, a broken, erased mess of a pathetic creature, reduced to nothing more than a pet for these humans to amuse themselves with.
"We took the liberty of picking out a nice name for you, sweetheart! Now, let me just slip this little programming chip into the port slot on your occipital bone, and... there we go! It will also help you calm down a bit and adjust."
I felt the chip begin to invade my mind, suppressing my thoughts. What made me me was slowly being ripped out of my mind. I couldn't remember my name my name is Bruno, and I needed to get out! I can't let them do this to me! Somebody help me! I was a good boy.
##Do not think. You are a good boy.##
I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't work: I had trouble forming any words at all, the confusion clouding my mind like wet, slimy eels curling around my brain and sinking their teeth into its folds like needles. I couldn’t scream any longer, because I had nothing left: the chip was slowly beginning to take everything from me, robbing me of my identity and branding a new one into my psyche with a white-hot iron. Julie simply held me close, attempting to reassure me as I awaited the inevitable demise of my personhood. Soon I would be just like my brother: erased. My mind would be shaped into the mind of a loyal plaything, like a Dog.
##Relax. Allow caretaker [Julie] to comfort you. You will let go of your burden.##
Soon, everything was a blur. I quickly found myself resting my head in her lap as she whispered to me and fed me, my eyes bleary and my head fuzzy. I couldn't remember my name anymore My name was Bruno, and I needed to break free from this trance relax, and allow her to help me; good boys didn't resist help.
##Good Boy. Do not think. You are a good boy.##
You can't... I...
##Good boy.##
I wouldn't… good boys don't… I…
##Good boy##
I was a good boy… I was a good boy…
I was… I was… a good… boy…
Someone help me, please! I don't want to be erased!
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The following script is from episode #343 of Halcyon After Dark, a popular late-night and current events talk show hosted by Melinda Carter. This specific episode was sponsored in part by the Halcyon Security Division, with Director Lochlin O'Brien joining as a guest star to talk about the changing crime statistics in Halcyon City and the HSD's recent successes in busting organized crime as well as their plans for addressing the growing criminal underworld.
MC: Good evening Halcyon! I'm your host, Melinda Carter, and you're watching Halcyon's most popular late-night talk show, Halcyon After Dark!
The crowd claps and cheers as Melinda walks on stage and sits behind her desk, her glittering red dress waving as she does so from the special effects.
MC: Tonight we have a very special guest here to tell us about the state of crime in the city and his plans on resolving it: please put your hands together for the HSD's very own Director, Lochlin O'Brien!
The crowd cheers some more as HSD Director Lochlan O'Brien, a tall, muscular, caucasian male in his early forties with red hair and a well-trimmed beard steps into the room, waving at the crowd with a bright smile. He sits in the armchair angled next to Melinda's desk and gives her his full attention.
MC: It's so good to have you on the show, Director! Tell me, how are you doing on this fine evening?
LO: I'm doing excellent, Melinda: every day I wake up feeling fulfilled knowing I'm serving Halcyon to the best of my abilities and then some."
MC: That's the spirit, Director! Now, I know this question is just on everyone's lips, so I have to ask: how successful was the recent gang bust? I heard HSD forces took out dozens of gang members and liberated at least a dozen Russu Hounds from their abusive clutches, but I know that everyone in the audience and at home wants to know the numbers.
LO: I'd be glad to tell you, but I do have to preface this by saying that we still lost a lot of good officers that day, and while we did strike a crippling blow to one of Halcyon's biggest gangs, it doesn't change the fact that each death is a tragedy, and we're taking steps to prevent them in the future. That being said, those valiant officers did not sacrifice themselves in vain: we had over a dozen confirmed kills and several arrests, including the rescue of several corrupted Russu hounds.
MC: That's excellent, Director: proof that even when the number of degenerates and scum grow by the day, the HSD will always be here to keep the citizens of Halcyon safe.
LO: Absolutely, Melinda, and we're always working tirelessly to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of our units, as well as racing to stay several steps ahead of the many gangs of Halcyon at all times. My newest goal as Director is to vastly increase the funding given to our Robotics Department and our Neuro-Warfare Department to potentially reduce the number of casualties we may experience in the future, as well as to quickly and effectively detain, and if necessary, eliminate criminals. Within the next decade, I want to double the number of automated units each Security Platoon is assigned: droids are the future of public safety as well as countless other industries, and it would be foolish to be left behind.
MC: That is quite a lofty goal, Director: what about the displaced jobs from the increased automation? What will the union say?
LO: And to that, I say: what misplaced jobs? We aren't replacing our honored and beloved service members with droids, Melinda, we are simply supplementing our units with more droids to ensure that future gang assaults end with fewer HSD casualties and more gang members in prison or eliminated, simple as that.
MC: That makes much more sense, Director, thanks for clarifying. Now, I have one more question that I'm sure much of Halcyon wants to know the answer to before we take a short break: what plans do you and your fellow directors have to make long-term progress in reducing crime beyond just increasing funding? Have you proposed any plans to strike at the source of where crime and degeneracy flourish?
OL: That's an excellent question, and one I am proud to answer: my constituents and I have been working tirelessly on a two-step plan to greatly reduce crime levels in Halcyon. Step one would be to prevent people from becoming criminals and degenerates at all in the first place: a lot of young men and women, but especially young men, have lost either one or both parents or even a sibling, aunt or uncle, or even a close friend by the brutality of the Second Authority War, and while the service of their lost loved ones will always be recognized and honored, many of these young men and women are left bitter, angry and lost without the guidance these people give them in their lives. Oftentimes they seek to fill that void with others who claim to relate to them: career criminals. These criminals will fill their heads with lies and false narratives to make them feel like they're fighting back against the 'evil protectorate government' that took their loved ones from them by sending them off to war when in reality it was the rogue Xenopets of the Triarchy that took them away by resisting their just and inevitable unburdening.
In response, I have proposed a slew of special programs that will make sure local law enforcement and HSD officers are present and contributing to their local community, and we'll be providing easy and light job openings for youngsters and teens looking to make a career for themselves in the force when they grow up. We want to let these lost souls know that there are people who care about them, people who understand them and that you shouldn't turn to degeneracy to feel fulfilled. We want to help the youth of our great society soar to new heights!
MC: That sounds like a wonderful beginning to your plan, Director, but what about the second step?
LO: Well, the second step is to prevent criminals and degenerates from becoming repeat criminals. Sure, they've made their mistakes, some worse than others, but they're only human like the rest of us. Some of them have been through hell: some are traumatized veterans who don't know how to adapt to normal life, others were recruited when they were young and don't know that there's a better way to live, and even more are mentally ill. We're alone in this galaxy, and we can't leave so many people behind. That's why we've come up with an excellent solution: we've set up isolated communities on distant moons and frontier planets where these criminals can be reeducated, rehabilitated, and allowed to repay their debt to society. When they're deemed 'reformed' and have graduated from our program, they'll be granted a hefty stipend and their criminal record will be deemed irrelevant, allowing them to reintegrate and become functioning members of our proud society.
MC: all of these sound like incredible steps forward in the fight to better our society and make real progress, Director. Sadly, we do have to step away for a moment, but you best believe I'll be back, Halcyon, and we'll be asking the Director here some burning questions about allegations over the quality of life Erubus Supermax! Now, a word from our sponsors!
Halcyon Xenopet-Megaplex! Everything your xenopet could ever need in one place! Adoption is now free-
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Good, you’re still alive! The rest of this shard appears to be corrupted, which means this particular trail seems to have run cold here, but do not despair; you need to keep searching. Find out what happened. Find the truth.I cannot guide you any longer: they've already found me, and if I remain in contact with you they'll find you as well. Take the archival database, and see what you can piece together. Maybe if we discover what truly happened we can put an end to this madness once and for all. I'm counting on you. Don't cry for me, I don't fear death, but I fear what they'll do to me to get to you: there are far worse fates than death, after all.

One thing that really annoys me is any time a dude posts a pic of himself and he's fairly well-built and the comments are full of syringe emojis and steroid accusations. It's getting to the point where if a mosquito bites your bicep people will accuse you of hopping on juice. Literally ab definition and shoulder development will result in a bunch of idiots in the comment section screaming 'hGH gUT' or "aNdErGeNic rESpOnSe". The jealousy some people have is so crazy, I think it's probably overweight, skinny fat or non-progress making gym goers who are writing this. A great example is Greg O'Gallagher. He has a great physique, but its because he has a great physique that people tear him down. Yet I find it funny that Mario Rios gets made fun of being 'too small' to be giving out workout criticisms.