Left arm numb tight chest nauseous

Can I get some feedback for my first chapter?

2024.06.01 15:00 WhyIsAdaitTaken Can I get some feedback for my first chapter?

The world was dark, there was no sense of touch, and there was nothing to see. A sense of touch manifested, a cold and wet floor could be felt. A sense of hearing developed, a deep ringing could be heard. A sense of thought sprung from a mind. "Where am I?" A sense of sight had been acquired, he was in a room, white as far as the eye could see Movement was now possible as the man stood up, he realized that he was standing on water, so pristine and clear and yet there was no reflection.
He could hear his heart beating loudly almost like it was going to leap out of his chest for a reason that he did not know.
After a few minutes, when his body calmed down, the ringing brought by the silence was broken by a voice that said: ”Greetings” The voice sounded distorted, like it was from a broken radio. He turned around and then looked in all directions, it was only a white room that seemed to stretch for hundreds or maybe thousands of miles, not a source of the sound was seen. "Hello? ” The man asked. ”Hello, you aren't supposed to be awake right now, but since you are let's have chat” The man observes his surroundings and said "Am I in heaven?" "No" It said The man felt like the voice was in his head, like telepathy.
Before he could ask anything more, darkness rapidly engulfed him, he felt weightless like he was on a rapidly descending plane which made him fall to the ground and pass out.
A conversation could be heard, yet the world was in darkness ”Do you know what to do Su?” a man said ”Yes” a voice replied. ”Then do it.” the man said while a woman was screaming in the distance, another voice could be heard, but it was unintelligible and suddenly, a loud thud echoed as if someone had jumped off a building.
The man woke up and felt a rough and prickly sensation. ”Is this grass?” He said as he opened his eyes he saw that he was in an field with hills as far as he could see the sky was incredibly blue, too blue to look real in fact, it was peaceful, too peaceful.
There was a strange pale yellow, reddish object in the far distance, as the man took a closer look, it was a house with yellow walls and a red roof.
After wandering for a few minutes, he decided to begin to approach the house, but it seemed like the more he walked towards it, the further away the house seemed. After a few hours of walking, the house was entirely gone and suddenly, as if somebody covered the sun, it was pitch black and It felt cold, there was a mysterious singular speck of light seen in the distance, the grass also changed and was just a cold and hard surface. ”Could it be freedom?” He thought as he looked at the speck of light in the distance. After a while in there the man was restless the darkness was sickening, the silence was unsettling the light also flickered until it was gone. ”Any sound or anything would be better than this.” He thought. That thought was wrong, because the darkness would be much better than the things that would happen. The thing that happened was a presence and it was behind him and he froze from just it's presence, it's unimaginable what it would look like.
He suddenly unfroze and ran from it with it's footsteps following, it felt like he would die if he turned around, his legs felt numb but his mind kept pushing through like an instinct of self preservation.
He continued running and running and running for what seem an eternity even when the entity's presence was gone, he continued running even when his energy was utterly depleted. Eventually he reaches the speck of light and it was a window, he stopped and turned around but the being was already gone long ago. He walked closer to the window, but his legs gave way and he slowly fell to the ground panting in exhaustion and darkness consumed him again.
When he was conscious again he was in an extremely dark place and he had a bad headache, it was like his head was going to split A few minutes later his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he looked around and he only realized that it reeked of a rotten smell, most likely rotten meat, he also realizes that he was hanging upside down and tied up he only noticed now because he couldn't think of anything else from so much pain his body was in, he inspected that he was in some sort of shed his light source being an incredibly dim moon through a small window that even disappeared when it was covered by clouds, suddenly he fell to the ground and fortunately he didn't land headfirst.
When he got himself in a sitting position he tried to struggle out of the ties but he didn't feel his arms almost as if he was injected with anesthesia. He concluded that the anesthesia wasn't that strong because he could still feel the rest of his body.
The smell was still there but the clouds had covered the moon so he couldn't see where the smell came, but he was certain it was close to him because of its strength. The moon reappeared and he thought that the smell came from behind him, then he saw- "Ah!" He shouted in horror, it was a pair of dismembered arms, the bones were visible and blood was gushing out. There was a warm feeling on his side, like warm water, the moon passed by and shined brighter and it fully revealed that the warm fluid on his side was... Blood, he was not numb in his arms... because they were no longer there. Because of the overwhelming shock and all the other things that happened, he fainted.
The man woke up again in the white room that he first woke up in, it still felt warm the only thing that changed was that there was a barrier surrounding him and it was quite blurry and behind that was a humanlike figure, that figure was a woman. Because of the barrier the woman was quite hard to see, the way he knew it was a woman was because of her voice.
”You're an interesting fellow.” she said ”Ask away while I process your data, don't make it too long though.” The man thought for a few seconds, thinking what to say and asked ”anything?” ”Not really, but I can still answer most things.” She said ”Then what place is this?” He asked ”An interliminal space known as the testing area” The man thought of another question to ask but before he did the woman said ”The data is done, you may proceed” ”To wher-”
Before he could finish his sentence the seemingly endless white room materialized to what looks like a school ground, it seemed empty and the sky felt oddly artificial.
He went to the gate, it was made of slightly rusty iron and the wall was made of brick. Outside looked like a desolate wasteland but he was quite unsure since it was quite blurry, like there was a barrier. He tried to open the gate but it did not budge and the wall was too high to climb. Then he noticed that the entire place was utterly quiet, almost as if abandoned but the whole place was too clean to be, but not even a chirp of a bird was heard. The man goes to what seems like the dorms, not a soul was there too.
A weight was felt in his pockets, he reached into it and discovered that it was a key that had a tag saying.
”Room 13”
The dorm looked normal, with the exception of looking a bit old but well maintained. He eventually found the room of the correct key and unlocked it.
The room that he thought that was his was actually theirs as he noticed that there was a girl on top of the bed bunk, probably asleep. "That's the first person I've seen in this place." He thought ”The first normal one I guess.”
He approached the bed and sat on the bottom bunk, he felt an intense fatigue and laid on the bed and slept.
A woman and a man could be seen talking, the woman was wearing a sky blue dress that flowed magnificently and the man was covered in a dark miasma ”I have told you, I am not a” -bleep- ”So I am unaffected.” a man said ”Then why do you need a se” -bleep- ”stal?” a woman's voice said There were constant high pitched sounds that bleeped certain words in the conversation. ”Either way I will not give you one.” The woman said. The man withdrew a sword which shattered into hundreds of pieces. ”If you will not give me the crystal, then you are of no use to me.” he said as he pointed the hilt of the sword to her, suddenly the shards vibrated and shot straight towards the woman.
As soon as that happened the world went dark and silent.
submitted by WhyIsAdaitTaken to FictionWriting [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:57 WhyIsAdaitTaken Started a fiction, need a little feedback. (This is chapter 1 btw)

The world was dark, there was no sense of touch, and there was nothing to see. A sense of touch manifested, a cold and wet floor could be felt. A sense of hearing developed, a deep ringing could be heard. A sense of thought sprung from a mind. "Where am I?" A sense of sight had been acquired, he was in a room, white as far as the eye could see Movement was now possible as the man stood up, he realized that he was standing on water, so pristine and clear and yet there was no reflection.
He could hear his heart beating loudly almost like it was going to leap out of his chest for a reason that he did not know.
After a few minutes, when his body calmed down, the ringing brought by the silence was broken by a voice that said: ”Greetings” The voice sounded distorted, like it was from a broken radio. He turned around and then looked in all directions, it was only a white room that seemed to stretch for hundreds or maybe thousands of miles, not a source of the sound was seen. "Hello? ” The man asked. ”Hello, you aren't supposed to be awake right now, but since you are let's have chat” The man observes his surroundings and said "Am I in heaven?" "No" It said The man felt like the voice was in his head, like telepathy.
Before he could ask anything more, darkness rapidly engulfed him, he felt weightless like he was on a rapidly descending plane which made him fall to the ground and pass out.
A conversation could be heard, yet the world was in darkness ”Do you know what to do Su?” a man said ”Yes” a voice replied. ”Then do it.” the man said while a woman was screaming in the distance, another voice could be heard, but it was unintelligible and suddenly, a loud thud echoed as if someone had jumped off a building.
The man woke up and felt a rough and prickly sensation. ”Is this grass?” He said as he opened his eyes he saw that he was in an field with hills as far as he could see the sky was incredibly blue, too blue to look real in fact, it was peaceful, too peaceful.
There was a strange pale yellow, reddish object in the far distance, as the man took a closer look, it was a house with yellow walls and a red roof.
After wandering for a few minutes, he decided to begin to approach the house, but it seemed like the more he walked towards it, the further away the house seemed. After a few hours of walking, the house was entirely gone and suddenly, as if somebody covered the sun, it was pitch black and It felt cold, there was a mysterious singular speck of light seen in the distance, the grass also changed and was just a cold and hard surface. ”Could it be freedom?” He thought as he looked at the speck of light in the distance. After a while in there the man was restless the darkness was sickening, the silence was unsettling the light also flickered until it was gone. ”Any sound or anything would be better than this.” He thought. That thought was wrong, because the darkness would be much better than the things that would happen. The thing that happened was a presence and it was behind him and he froze from just it's presence, it's unimaginable what it would look like.
He suddenly unfroze and ran from it with it's footsteps following, it felt like he would die if he turned around, his legs felt numb but his mind kept pushing through like an instinct of self preservation.
He continued running and running and running for what seem an eternity even when the entity's presence was gone, he continued running even when his energy was utterly depleted. Eventually he reaches the speck of light and it was a window, he stopped and turned around but the being was already gone long ago. He walked closer to the window, but his legs gave way and he slowly fell to the ground panting in exhaustion and darkness consumed him again.
When he was conscious again he was in an extremely dark place and he had a bad headache, it was like his head was going to split A few minutes later his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he looked around and he only realized that it reeked of a rotten smell, most likely rotten meat, he also realizes that he was hanging upside down and tied up he only noticed now because he couldn't think of anything else from so much pain his body was in, he inspected that he was in some sort of shed his light source being an incredibly dim moon through a small window that even disappeared when it was covered by clouds, suddenly he fell to the ground and fortunately he didn't land headfirst.
When he got himself in a sitting position he tried to struggle out of the ties but he didn't feel his arms almost as if he was injected with anesthesia. He concluded that the anesthesia wasn't that strong because he could still feel the rest of his body.
The smell was still there but the clouds had covered the moon so he couldn't see where the smell came, but he was certain it was close to him because of its strength. The moon reappeared and he thought that the smell came from behind him, then he saw- "Ah!" He shouted in horror, it was a pair of dismembered arms, the bones were visible and blood was gushing out. There was a warm feeling on his side, like warm water, the moon passed by and shined brighter and it fully revealed that the warm fluid on his side was... Blood, he was not numb in his arms... because they were no longer there. Because of the overwhelming shock and all the other things that happened, he fainted.
The man woke up again in the white room that he first woke up in, it still felt warm the only thing that changed was that there was a barrier surrounding him and it was quite blurry and behind that was a humanlike figure, that figure was a woman. Because of the barrier the woman was quite hard to see, the way he knew it was a woman was because of her voice.
”You're an interesting fellow.” she said ”Ask away while I process your data, don't make it too long though.” The man thought for a few seconds, thinking what to say and asked ”anything?” ”Not really, but I can still answer most things.” She said ”Then what place is this?” He asked ”An interliminal space known as the testing area” The man thought of another question to ask but before he did the woman said ”The data is done, you may proceed” ”To wher-”
Before he could finish his sentence the seemingly endless white room materialized to what looks like a school ground, it seemed empty and the sky felt oddly artificial.
He went to the gate, it was made of slightly rusty iron and the wall was made of brick. Outside looked like a desolate wasteland but he was quite unsure since it was quite blurry, like there was a barrier. He tried to open the gate but it did not budge and the wall was too high to climb. Then he noticed that the entire place was utterly quiet, almost as if abandoned but the whole place was too clean to be, but not even a chirp of a bird was heard. The man goes to what seems like the dorms, not a soul was there too.
A weight was felt in his pockets, he reached into it and discovered that it was a key that had a tag saying.
”Room 13”
The dorm looked normal, with the exception of looking a bit old but well maintained. He eventually found the room of the correct key and unlocked it.
The room that he thought that was his was actually theirs as he noticed that there was a girl on top of the bed bunk, probably asleep. "That's the first person I've seen in this place." He thought ”The first normal one I guess.”
He approached the bed and sat on the bottom bunk, he felt an intense fatigue and laid on the bed and slept.
A woman and a man could be seen talking, the woman was wearing a sky blue dress that flowed magnificently and the man was covered in a dark miasma ”I have told you, I am not a” -bleep- ”So I am unaffected.” a man said ”Then why do you need a se” -bleep- ”stal?” a woman's voice said There were constant high pitched sounds that bleeped certain words in the conversation. ”Either way I will not give you one.” The woman said. The man withdrew a sword which shattered into hundreds of pieces. ”If you will not give me the crystal, then you are of no use to me.” he said as he pointed the hilt of the sword to her, suddenly the shards vibrated and shot straight towards the woman.
As soon as that happened the world went dark and silent.
submitted by WhyIsAdaitTaken to fiction [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:46 Chai_Ky The Case of Kate Blackwell: The Unknown Part 3 (Finale)

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.
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2024.06.01 14:33 MountainSkald [A Valkyrie's Saga] - Part 112

Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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When Kayla awoke, she found herself curled up on a couch in the Banshee’s infirmary. In the nearest bed, Thandi appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Across from her, Yak was hooked up to several scary looking tubes, but her vitals looked stable. Most of the rest of the beds were also filled. Another successful Valkyrie operation, Kayla thought, bitterly.
She didn’t remember the trip back from the planet. She did remember being told that nobody had found any sign of Rayker, and that memory kindled a little of the rage that never burned out. They had been through a nightmare for nothing.
“I wondered how long you would be asleep,” a voice said.
Kayla turned to see Christie sat on the end of her couch. Her friend seemed to be weighed down by sadness as she put aside the tablet she was typing on and smiled back at her.
“Wha— uh…” Kayla managed, as her stiff tongue flapped helplessly. She yawned and stretched.
“Twenty-three wounded in total,” Christie said. “Thandi will walk again in a week. Yak’s going to be in a coma for the next month. Fortunately, nothing struck her vital organs. And, by the way, one of the Raider squads was also involved in a friendly fire incident.”
Kayla focused on her, then looked away. “Jesus,” she said to herself. “God dammit.”
“Thandi wouldn’t like that,” Christie scolded. “Heathen.”
Kayla stood up and began to pace slowly as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t believe I—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Christie said, “because you’ve been asleep for about ten hours. In the interim, I was able to speak with several Rangers about what happened. It was not your fault. Not entirely.”
Kayla shook her head. “Yes, it was. Oh, God, yes it was. I should have seen them, I should have had a stronger optic, I should have—”
“Corporal Rudaski misread her map. So did the leader of second squad. You were both actually in hall hotel-four. The base was constructed in a circular pattern of radially linked zones, orbiting a central facility. It’s a highly abstract layout that we have never seen before. Most Ranger battalions have spent the last several centuries clearing logical, grid-like layouts in ships and bunkers. Under fire, it is easy to see how confusion caused units to lose track of their positions as they advanced. Most of the platoons did, actually, at one point or another. And, in my opinion, we did not have anything like the troop numbers needed to comfortably secure that site. A consequence, no doubt, of Valkyrie’s failure to prepare and train for large scale deployments, for which there has been no requirement in at least a millennia, so they tell me.”
Kayla turned to her with a puzzled expression. “You figured all that out already?”
“I’m drafting a report on the matter. I can’t sleep, you see, because the flaws of this operation stem entirely from the task force’s desire to follow Rayker until she discovered the tracker. We found it in the central command chamber. It was sealed in a wrapping of fat and muscle tissue, which she obviously cut out of herself hours before the tamper alarm sensed the toxins of cell decay. She left it there for us to find. To taunt us, no doubt.”
Christie yawned deeply, stood up and brushed her sweater off. “Do you see, Kayla, that the intelligence team were making decisions based off of my actions on Ambrosia, when I planted that device?” She smiled bitterly. “And I had the arrogance to think I was outwitting the woman. So, in a way, it’s my fault.”
Kayla swallowed and slowly shook her head. Then she grabbed her friend and held her in a tight hug. “War sucks,” she said. “Everything about it is awful.”
“I agree. Nevertheless, we are drawn to it, like moths to a flame perhaps?”
Kayla released her and collapsed into the couch. “When I slept, I had a dream. I was in Plato’s cave, but I got free. Outside there was a dragon, burning everything in sight. The world was covered in ash, and the puppets casting shadows were dead bodies,” She wiped moisture out of her eye. “He said, ‘come out and play, little girl’.”
Christie nodded. “We were lucky nobody was killed today. Rayker will certainly cost us more blood before we manage to catch her. She could have set up a much stronger defense than a battalion of light combat drones, but she didn’t.”
Kayla reached into her pocket and found her necklace. She placed it over her head and ran a thumb over the engraved name.
She looked back at Christie. “Why not?”
“The freighter the Sirène caught was carrying several large combat walkers, produced by that plant. A deep space survey revealed that a second freighter had jumped away earlier. No doubt Rayker’s escape—she seems to have plotted a course opposite the star from where we stopped at the minefield. There seems to be no question that she had the main force of those machines with her.”
“Any idea where they went?”
Christie turned away to retrieve her tablet. “Not yet, unfortunately.”
“May the saints have mercy,” said a voice, “if a shot up woman cannot get a wink of sleep with all the talking in here.”
Kayla whirled around to see Thandi, sitting up in her bed. She darted over and grabbed her into a bearhug.
“I’m really sorry I got you shot,” she said.
“Yeah,” Thandi said looking pleased with herself. “And to apologize, you’ll be fetching me chocolate cake from the mess until I get out of here.” She lowered her voice. “Seriously though, Kayla, I need you. The food is terrible.”
Kayla chuckled. “You can count on me.”
“How are you feeling, wonder woman?”
“Oh, uh… not that wonderful to be honest.”
“Leaping tall structures in a single bound?” Thandi grinned admiringly at her. “You had a bit of a superhero moment.”
Kayla raised her eyebrows. “I tore half the muscles in my body. It was definitely not awesome.”
“Sure looked like it. I don’t even know how you do stuff like that. The Lord moved you.”
Christie cleared her throat and gave Thandi a significant look.
Thandi rolled her eyes. “It’s a compliment—I’m not diminishing what you did.”
Kayla returned her cheerful gaze with a flat expression. She had felt like everyone she cared about was about to die. Like her soul had been lit on fire, and the only way to put it out had been to move like a lightning bolt. It was not something she ever wanted to experience again.
“I was on probation for the incident on Ambrosia,” she reminded Thandi. “I will definitely be dropped back to private from now on.”
“Oh,” Thandi’s sparkling eyes darkened. “Well, that sucks. I hope they don’t. You straight up saved us all from an ambush at the start of that firefight. And the illume drone—you made lots of good calls down there.”
Kayla shook her head. “I shouldn’t be a team leader. I keep losing control. I can’t let… I don’t respond well when any of you are in danger.”
Thandi grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. “What happens to us is not up to you, my dear. It’s in God’s hands alone.”
Kayla didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if she could accept that.
“How’s the pain?” Christie asked.
“Oh,” Thandi said and waved her hand. “Nothing too severe. I think of how Rose would be responding, and I know I can handle anything.”
Christie nodded silently.
“She speaks to me, in my dreams. She tells me how proud she is of us.” Thandi glanced at Kayla. “She says you are a true leader.”
Kayla turned away, unable to keep her eyes from tearing up.
“Will you be up in time for the merger?” Christie asked.
“On crutches maybe,” Thandi said. “But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I can’t imagine anything more glorious.”
“What’s that?” Kayla asked before slowly turning back.
“The Banshee is returning to Tyr,” Christie explained. “On the way back, we have been tasked with collecting a probe that was observing a binary star merger. We will have the opportunity to observe the event live.”
“Whatever,” Kayla said with an eye roll. She was a little offended that their task force had been assigned a science project after what had happened. “Nerd stuff, right?”
Christie laughed, and met Thandi’s eyes with a smirk. “If you say so.”
Thandi shifted against her pillows. “How is the mood of the ship?” she said to Christie. “Are people still angry?”
“What do you mean?” Kayla cut in.
Thandi glanced back and forth between them. “You didn’t tell her?”
Christie waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, but with all that’s happening I didn’t think it pertinent. Why add to our already substantial burdens?”
“What’s going on?” Kayla demanded, and felt her hair stand on end.
Christie smiled tightly. “ODT Four seized the freighter and searched it thoroughly. No evidence of Rayker, as I said.”
“Yeah? And?”
“Well, they found a false compartment in one of the holds. And there were a pair of young teenagers inside. A boy and a girl.”
“In rags, and chained up,” Thandi added.
Kayla realized her jaw had clenched. She felt her skin crawl with a new kind of horror. “Oh my God,” she said, then glanced at Thandi. “Sorry.”
“In this case you get a dispensation.”
“Obviously,” Christie continued, “the pour souls will be returned to their families. A terrible situation.”
Kayla’s mind buzzed with questions. “What is—uh… where was it from? The ship?”
“Intaba,” Thandi said sullenly. “A VennZech registered vessel. Justice cannot come swiftly enough for the demon scum who perpetrated this evil on my homeworld…” she frowned as she lost her words, and clenched her fists together.
“Do you think Valkyrie will start interdicting their ships?” Kayla asked.
“No,” Christie said. “Hence the angry mood. It is a problem the organization has faced since humanity took to the stars. The chieftains have resolutely refused to address it. Our mission statement is to protect humanity, not interfere with their conduct. Frankly I have to agree with them, though I appear to be in the minority.”
Kayla stared at her incredulously. “But that’s bullshit,” she said. “How can you be okay with letting something like that go?”
Christie arched an eyebrow. “A secret army of super soldiers, with access to civilization destroying technology, and who answer—as far as we know—to nobody but themselves? The very thought of interfering gives me an existential crisis. However tragic the situation, it seems obvious that we must maintain our distance.”
Kayla shook her head. She already felt hot anger driving her to act. How could such monsters be allowed to walk freely in a just galaxy?
“All that it takes for evil to succeed—” Thandi began.
“Please can we not continue this conversation?” Christie snapped. “I’ve had enough of being insulted by some of my colleagues. I don’t want it from my friends too.”
Kayla exchanged looks with Thandi, but she owed her best friend the space she wanted.
“I promise, I won’t bring it up again, Chris,” she said.
***
Kayla ate in the ship’s mess then returned to her bunk, where the rest of the squad were waiting. They were talking in somber tones, but fell silent when she approached.
Kes stood up and beckoned to her. “Platoon ready room, this way.”
Once shut away in privacy, Kes sat her down and they retraced every event that had occurred inside the base. Every decision was picked apart minutely, with no judgement or grievance allowed.
“I needed us to go through this as soon as possible,” she explained. “This will sit with you for the rest of your life. We all made mistakes, but nobody should feel incriminated. I have been through five blue on blue incidents. This shit just happens, and I guarantee it will happen to you again in the future.”
Kayla felt a little relief as she spoke with her squad leader and found that she was neither alone, nor justified in hating herself. They had been moving quickly through a confusing environment, making a deadly situation much more likely.
“One last thing, though,” Kes added somberly. “Private Voigt from second squad fired the burst that hit Yak and Thandi. She is being removed from the battalion. By her own account, she returned Yak’s fire without any kind of communication with her team leader, or any attempt to check the position of friendlies. That was a major SOP violation when she knew they were expecting to move in our direction.”
Kayla absorbed this with shock. She couldn’t argue with it; after all, what good was a Ranger who couldn’t do her job? And didn’t that mean that the same punishment should apply to her?
She cleared her throat. Terror gnawed at her insides as Kes stared at her expectantly.
“I lost control again,” Kayla said.
“Yup,” Kes said, and rubbed her eyes with obvious frustration. “And this time, your actions swiftly ended a dangerous firefight following a terrible accident. Yak got immediate medical attention because of that. On the other hand, you put yourself in a position to be killed or wounded where no-one could help you.”
There was a long pause while the corporal appeared to search a distant horizon. “You don’t need a lecture, and Akane can’t make a decision on you. Yak was my next choice for Lance Corporal, but she’s out of action, along with a bunch of others. Together with this Rayker shitshow, it is not the time to be shuffling people around.”
Kayla’s brow furrowed “What about Ray?”
“Oh,” Kes ran a hand through her hair. “Every time I’ve offered it, she’s refused. Anyway, we’ve already been told by Captain Aguilar to expect a new private out of Ranger school once we return to Tyr.”
“Yes, Corporal,” Kayla said, unsure what to think about the decision.
“I’ve seen you make good decisions in the field. But I will push to replace you when the opportunity comes up again.” Kes narrowed her eyes. “Unless you can show me I’m wrong before that happens.”
Kayla left the room with her head spinning. She was keeping her job, even though she obviously didn’t have what it took to lead Rangers in combat.
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Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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2024.06.01 14:30 MountainSkald A Valkyrie's Saga - Part 112

Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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When Kayla awoke, she found herself curled up on a couch in the Banshee’s infirmary. In the nearest bed, Thandi appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Across from her, Yak was hooked up to several scary looking tubes, but her vitals looked stable. Most of the rest of the beds were also filled. Another successful Valkyrie operation, Kayla thought, bitterly.
She didn’t remember the trip back from the planet. She did remember being told that nobody had found any sign of Rayker, and that memory kindled a little of the rage that never burned out. They had been through a nightmare for nothing.
“I wondered how long you would be asleep,” a voice said.
Kayla turned to see Christie sat on the end of her couch. Her friend seemed to be weighed down by sadness as she put aside the tablet she was typing on and smiled back at her.
“Wha— uh…” Kayla managed, as her stiff tongue flapped helplessly. She yawned and stretched.
“Twenty-three wounded in total,” Christie said. “Thandi will walk again in a week. Yak’s going to be in a coma for the next month. Fortunately, nothing struck her vital organs. And, by the way, one of the Raider squads was also involved in a friendly fire incident.”
Kayla focused on her, then looked away. “Jesus,” she said to herself. “God dammit.”
“Thandi wouldn’t like that,” Christie scolded. “Heathen.”
Kayla stood up and began to pace slowly as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t believe I—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Christie said, “because you’ve been asleep for about ten hours. In the interim, I was able to speak with several Rangers about what happened. It was not your fault. Not entirely.”
Kayla shook her head. “Yes, it was. Oh, God, yes it was. I should have seen them, I should have had a stronger optic, I should have—”
“Corporal Rudaski misread her map. So did the leader of second squad. You were both actually in hall hotel-four. The base was constructed in a circular pattern of radially linked zones, orbiting a central facility. It’s a highly abstract layout that we have never seen before. Most Ranger battalions have spent the last several centuries clearing logical, grid-like layouts in ships and bunkers. Under fire, it is easy to see how confusion caused units to lose track of their positions as they advanced. Most of the platoons did, actually, at one point or another. And, in my opinion, we did not have anything like the troop numbers needed to comfortably secure that site. A consequence, no doubt, of Valkyrie’s failure to prepare and train for large scale deployments, for which there has been no requirement in at least a millennia, so they tell me.”
Kayla turned to her with a puzzled expression. “You figured all that out already?”
“I’m drafting a report on the matter. I can’t sleep, you see, because the flaws of this operation stem entirely from the task force’s desire to follow Rayker until she discovered the tracker. We found it in the central command chamber. It was sealed in a wrapping of fat and muscle tissue, which she obviously cut out of herself hours before the tamper alarm sensed the toxins of cell decay. She left it there for us to find. To taunt us, no doubt.”
Christie yawned deeply, stood up and brushed her sweater off. “Do you see, Kayla, that the intelligence team were making decisions based off of my actions on Ambrosia, when I planted that device?” She smiled bitterly. “And I had the arrogance to think I was outwitting the woman. So, in a way, it’s my fault.”
Kayla swallowed and slowly shook her head. Then she grabbed her friend and held her in a tight hug. “War sucks,” she said. “Everything about it is awful.”
“I agree. Nevertheless, we are drawn to it, like moths to a flame perhaps?”
Kayla released her and collapsed into the couch. “When I slept, I had a dream. I was in Plato’s cave, but I got free. Outside there was a dragon, burning everything in sight. The world was covered in ash, and the puppets casting shadows were dead bodies,” She wiped moisture out of her eye. “He said, ‘come out and play, little girl’.”
Christie nodded. “We were lucky nobody was killed today. Rayker will certainly cost us more blood before we manage to catch her. She could have set up a much stronger defense than a battalion of light combat drones, but she didn’t.”
Kayla reached into her pocket and found her necklace. She placed it over her head and ran a thumb over the engraved name.
She looked back at Christie. “Why not?”
“The freighter the Sirène caught was carrying several large combat walkers, produced by that plant. A deep space survey revealed that a second freighter had jumped away earlier. No doubt Rayker’s escape—she seems to have plotted a course opposite the star from where we stopped at the minefield. There seems to be no question that she had the main force of those machines with her.”
“Any idea where they went?”
Christie turned away to retrieve her tablet. “Not yet, unfortunately.”
“May the saints have mercy,” said a voice, “if a shot up woman cannot get a wink of sleep with all the talking in here.”
Kayla whirled around to see Thandi, sitting up in her bed. She darted over and grabbed her into a bearhug.
“I’m really sorry I got you shot,” she said.
“Yeah,” Thandi said looking pleased with herself. “And to apologize, you’ll be fetching me chocolate cake from the mess until I get out of here.” She lowered her voice. “Seriously though, Kayla, I need you. The food is terrible.”
Kayla chuckled. “You can count on me.”
“How are you feeling, wonder woman?”
“Oh, uh… not that wonderful to be honest.”
“Leaping tall structures in a single bound?” Thandi grinned admiringly at her. “You had a bit of a superhero moment.”
Kayla raised her eyebrows. “I tore half the muscles in my body. It was definitely not awesome.”
“Sure looked like it. I don’t even know how you do stuff like that. The Lord moved you.”
Christie cleared her throat and gave Thandi a significant look.
Thandi rolled her eyes. “It’s a compliment—I’m not diminishing what you did.”
Kayla returned her cheerful gaze with a flat expression. She had felt like everyone she cared about was about to die. Like her soul had been lit on fire, and the only way to put it out had been to move like a lightning bolt. It was not something she ever wanted to experience again.
“I was on probation for the incident on Ambrosia,” she reminded Thandi. “I will definitely be dropped back to private from now on.”
“Oh,” Thandi’s sparkling eyes darkened. “Well, that sucks. I hope they don’t. You straight up saved us all from an ambush at the start of that firefight. And the illume drone—you made lots of good calls down there.”
Kayla shook her head. “I shouldn’t be a team leader. I keep losing control. I can’t let… I don’t respond well when any of you are in danger.”
Thandi grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. “What happens to us is not up to you, my dear. It’s in God’s hands alone.”
Kayla didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if she could accept that.
“How’s the pain?” Christie asked.
“Oh,” Thandi said and waved her hand. “Nothing too severe. I think of how Rose would be responding, and I know I can handle anything.”
Christie nodded silently.
“She speaks to me, in my dreams. She tells me how proud she is of us.” Thandi glanced at Kayla. “She says you are a true leader.”
Kayla turned away, unable to keep her eyes from tearing up.
“Will you be up in time for the merger?” Christie asked.
“On crutches maybe,” Thandi said. “But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I can’t imagine anything more glorious.”
“What’s that?” Kayla asked before slowly turning back.
“The Banshee is returning to Tyr,” Christie explained. “On the way back, we have been tasked with collecting a probe that was observing a binary star merger. We will have the opportunity to observe the event live.”
“Whatever,” Kayla said with an eye roll. She was a little offended that their task force had been assigned a science project after what had happened. “Nerd stuff, right?”
Christie laughed, and met Thandi’s eyes with a smirk. “If you say so.”
Thandi shifted against her pillows. “How is the mood of the ship?” she said to Christie. “Are people still angry?”
“What do you mean?” Kayla cut in.
Thandi glanced back and forth between them. “You didn’t tell her?”
Christie waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, but with all that’s happening I didn’t think it pertinent. Why add to our already substantial burdens?”
“What’s going on?” Kayla demanded, and felt her hair stand on end.
Christie smiled tightly. “ODT Four seized the freighter and searched it thoroughly. No evidence of Rayker, as I said.”
“Yeah? And?”
“Well, they found a false compartment in one of the holds. And there were a pair of young teenagers inside. A boy and a girl.”
“In rags, and chained up,” Thandi added.
Kayla realized her jaw had clenched. She felt her skin crawl with a new kind of horror. “Oh my God,” she said, then glanced at Thandi. “Sorry.”
“In this case you get a dispensation.”
“Obviously,” Christie continued, “the pour souls will be returned to their families. A terrible situation.”
Kayla’s mind buzzed with questions. “What is—uh… where was it from? The ship?”
“Intaba,” Thandi said sullenly. “A VennZech registered vessel. Justice cannot come swiftly enough for the demon scum who perpetrated this evil on my homeworld…” she frowned as she lost her words, and clenched her fists together.
“Do you think Valkyrie will start interdicting their ships?” Kayla asked.
“No,” Christie said. “Hence the angry mood. It is a problem the organization has faced since humanity took to the stars. The chieftains have resolutely refused to address it. Our mission statement is to protect humanity, not interfere with their conduct. Frankly I have to agree with them, though I appear to be in the minority.”
Kayla stared at her incredulously. “But that’s bullshit,” she said. “How can you be okay with letting something like that go?”
Christie arched an eyebrow. “A secret army of super soldiers, with access to civilization destroying technology, and who answer—as far as we know—to nobody but themselves? The very thought of interfering gives me an existential crisis. However tragic the situation, it seems obvious that we must maintain our distance.”
Kayla shook her head. She already felt hot anger driving her to act. How could such monsters be allowed to walk freely in a just galaxy?
“All that it takes for evil to succeed—” Thandi began.
“Please can we not continue this conversation?” Christie snapped. “I’ve had enough of being insulted by some of my colleagues. I don’t want it from my friends too.”
Kayla exchanged looks with Thandi, but she owed her best friend the space she wanted.
“I promise, I won’t bring it up again, Chris,” she said.
***
Kayla ate in the ship’s mess then returned to her bunk, where the rest of the squad were waiting. They were talking in somber tones, but fell silent when she approached.
Kes stood up and beckoned to her. “Platoon ready room, this way.”
Once shut away in privacy, Kes sat her down and they retraced every event that had occurred inside the base. Every decision was picked apart minutely, with no judgement or grievance allowed.
“I needed us to go through this as soon as possible,” she explained. “This will sit with you for the rest of your life. We all made mistakes, but nobody should feel incriminated. I have been through five blue on blue incidents. This shit just happens, and I guarantee it will happen to you again in the future.”
Kayla felt a little relief as she spoke with her squad leader and found that she was neither alone, nor justified in hating herself. They had been moving quickly through a confusing environment, making a deadly situation much more likely.
“One last thing, though,” Kes added somberly. “Private Voigt from second squad fired the burst that hit Yak and Thandi. She is being removed from the battalion. By her own account, she returned Yak’s fire without any kind of communication with her team leader, or any attempt to check the position of friendlies. That was a major SOP violation when she knew they were expecting to move in our direction.”
Kayla absorbed this with shock. She couldn’t argue with it; after all, what good was a Ranger who couldn’t do her job? And didn’t that mean that the same punishment should apply to her?
She cleared her throat. Terror gnawed at her insides as Kes stared at her expectantly.
“I lost control again,” Kayla said.
“Yup,” Kes said, and rubbed her eyes with obvious frustration. “And this time, your actions swiftly ended a dangerous firefight following a terrible accident. Yak got immediate medical attention because of that. On the other hand, you put yourself in a position to be killed or wounded where no-one could help you.”
There was a long pause while the corporal appeared to search a distant horizon. “You don’t need a lecture, and Akane can’t make a decision on you. Yak was my next choice for Lance Corporal, but she’s out of action, along with a bunch of others. Together with this Rayker shitshow, it is not the time to be shuffling people around.”
Kayla’s brow furrowed “What about Ray?”
“Oh,” Kes ran a hand through her hair. “Every time I’ve offered it, she’s refused. Anyway, we’ve already been told by Captain Aguilar to expect a new private out of Ranger school once we return to Tyr.”
“Yes, Corporal,” Kayla said, unsure what to think about the decision.
“I’ve seen you make good decisions in the field. But I will push to replace you when the opportunity comes up again.” Kes narrowed her eyes. “Unless you can show me I’m wrong before that happens.”
Kayla left the room with her head spinning. She was keeping her job, even though she obviously didn’t have what it took to lead Rangers in combat.
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Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
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2024.06.01 14:20 Polypedatess Is this even bad enough to have ptsd from

I'm just so tired all the time, it literally feels like I can sleep all day. I have a normal sleep schedule, but everyday I just feel so exhausted. I have dark circles under my eyes and I have no energy to do anything anymore. I just lay in bed all day and want to rot. I feel suicidal, I just want to die all the time and it's getting worse. I get nightmares of him, not of what exactly happened but just of different sa from him. I feel like there's no point in going on anymore, I don't think it's going to get better. I don't exactly know what it's like to have a flashback, but I think I've experienced them. I have really bad maladaptive daydreaming, but I don't think it's that. It's like I'm there again, I can't control it or stop it or rewind it. It's like it's happening all over again and that I'm there and I can feel it. When it's happening I just sit there and cry and I feel like screaming but I obviously can't do that so I have to hold it in. My head feels like it's burning constantly too, like the back of my head feels so fucking warm and hot. Like my brain is melting. And I just want to die and I'm so tired I just want to sleep and never wake up again.
•The one big thing that makes me feel valid is that, when I was 11, my stepdad fingered me in my bedroom. I won't go in to too much detail or anything, it's unimportant. But the entire time he just stared at me and everything was silent, like he was waiting for my reaction. Our relationship has always been odd, so I wanted it. But eventually I got scared and told him something, I don't remember what it was but it got him to stop immediately and he apologised too. I don't remember much after, as in I don't know if he left my room or I left first, but I immediately went to the bathroom. Which was when I discovered I was bleeding.
•Around this time, for some strange reason I would repeatedly say to him "fuck me daddy." This would either be in person, or over messages. I remember once, when I was in school, I messaged him that. He told me to stop in case one of my friends saw. I don't know why he didn't tell me to stop for other reasons.
•One day, after telling him that in person, we were in my parents bedroom. I was sat on his bed and he was in front of me in his weird chair. He then started going in to detail about how I wanted him to fuck me, I can't remember exactly what he said, it was like I zoned out. Everytime I try to recall it now it literally feels like bugs start to crawl up me, I don't understand why. I remember the last part, and his really disgusting hushed and gentle voice. He asked if I wanted him to "cum inside of me", or he was just explaining how that would finish. I'm not really sure.
•Still around this same time period of me being 11-12, I would ask him to 'squish me.' The reason why we would call it that is because I would be on my back, my legs would be up all the way to where my head is and he would be on top of me in a way that would 'squish me'. Basically like that one sex position. I would usually be wearing my school uniform when that would happen, so a skirt. During the 'squishing', he would push down on me, so our crotches would basically be against eachother. I don't know why, but I would continuously ask him to 'squish me' and during it I would even say the whole "fuck me daddy" thing. Only recently have I realised that he was probably just pretending to fuck me.
•Other things had happened around that age too, like how we would talk about how many times we masturbated a day and compare it to eachother. Sometimes if I was abruptly going to my room, he would ask if I was going to go masturbate, since we were 'close like that' I would tell him. He would often recommend me NSFW Instagram model accounts. I was once tricked in to sending feet pics to this guy, which really isn't that serious and whenever I brought it up with friends they find it fucking hilarious. But the detail I always leave out is that, I did bring that up with my stepdad and he proceeded to tell me that he already knew. Which means he was spying on me through the crack of the door. If that already didn't bother me, I don't understand why he just allowed me to send those pictures, if he was watching why the hell didn't he stop me?
•I'm pretty sure this also happened around the age of 11 as well, recently, a memory resurfaced but I barely remember it. Basically, I was sucking on his neck. I don't remember who said it, but either him or my mum spoke up and laughed, saying that I needed to stop otherwise I would "give him a hickey." The reason why I wouldn't be surprised if my mum was in the room at the time is because she doesn't care about what he does. She knows everything and just doesn't fucking care.
•I'm very sure that, around that age, my parents begun to expose me to their loud sex. I wouldn't be surprised if it started even younger, however. Obviously, I tried to bring it up with them at the ripe old age of 11 and my mum immediately shot me down with a "it's natural." This only stopped recently, around this year, because I had a big panic attack over hearing them and my mum finally felt guilty. I started getting panic attacks over it the minute it started, maybe the panic attacks were a sign of the trauma when I was younger, but I'm convinced it is now. I heard it so many times that I began to get paranoid every night, I would start to hear it even if they weren't upstairs (I sound crazy, I know.) I would get so anxious every night in case I would hear it, to the point I started to really resent them from it. I know fine well I could just go to sleep before them, but sometimes they even woke me up with it, on numerous occasions.
•I'm convinced my stepdad wanted me to hear it. Around the time of it finally stopping, I got mad because i was hearing it again (I'm unsure if it was due to me hearing shit or they actually were) but it caused me to take my bedding and go downstairs to sleep. In the morning, I was rudely awoken to my stepdad slamming the door open and storming past. He's not usually like that when people are sleeping, so it instantly gave me the impression that he was pissed off and the only reason I can think of is that he was angry I wasn't there to listen.
•He used to tease me for my paranoia to. As a way to discourage them from getting intimate, I would leave my door open at night. This happened around this year, but I was doing that again and I messaged my stepdad if they were actually going to sleep. It then somehow turned to him making a dig about how he knew I gets anxious at night and when I asked why he sent me "In case me and your mam have sex. 😜" Before, I tried to resolve this issue by begging them to just tell me if they were gonna have sex or not so I could sleep downstairs (because I was gonna find out the hard way anyways.) And they kept on refusing? Which just gave me the impression that they wanted me to listen more.
•Around 11 again, he would often tell me details about his and my mums sex life. Like how he was always good at pulling out and the only time he would wear a condom is right when he was about to finish. But the reason why my sister came to be was because he just failed to pull out that one time and my mum refused to get an abortion. Another time, he went on about how him and my mother had sex during her period and how they had to use towels and they didn't enjoy it because it was too messy.
•I don't know if he did things before the age of 11, my memories are very faded and it's like there are major gaps throughout everything. I'm worried that he did, however. When I was very young, I remember having no accidents at all during the night. But then, around the ages of 9, I would have an accident basically every night and would get a lot of water infections. I know that's a classic sign of child sexual abuse, but I don't want to jump to conclusions or anything.
•Another reason as to why I believe more things had happened to me than what I know of is because I always seemed to know what sex was when I was young, but I wouldn't know the name or anything specific about it like how to get pregnant or what cum was. Though, even though I didn't know what it was, it was like I always thought about it, I could never not think about sex, it was disgusting. This stayed until I was around 13. I remember where I even asked my 'boyfriend' at the time, we were both around 8, if he wanted to have sex, and I have no idea why.
•Over the years, he would flash me frequently. Everytime, I would always believe it was an accident because he'd never acknowledge it, besides from that one time which he always jokes about it and blames me. Everytime he would flash me, it would either be because of a convenient hole in the crotch of his pants or because he was wearing very lose fit shorts and it would just be hanging out. The more I think about it, I'm very sure he would have been able to feel such a thing, especially when it was poking out of the hole, but it was like he was just oblivious.
•For some strange reason, when I was younger, I would make comments about small dicks. I don't know if I was commenting on his dick specifically, but he would always say the same thing. "Width matters more than length."
•Recently, around 16-17, he made a joke about how he listens to me masturbating. Once he noticed how shocked I looked, he then went on saying about how my vibrator is too quiet to hear.
•Around 17 again, I went to use the shower. The shower I use is the one that's connected to my parents room. When I locked the door, he got madish and started making comments about it. I had to defend myself, saying how 'the door would open on it's own if I didn't lock it'. Eventually, he backed off.
•I don't understand the point in the fucking door and lock to my bedroom anymore. Whenever I decided to lock my door, my parents start shouting at me through the walls, asking why I locked my door. My stepdad barely knocks, it's like a tap and he doesn't even wait sometimes. I remember seeing a past message from an old friend saying how he tried to walk in when I was changing and that he knew I was changing. I didn't explain myself, I really wish I did because I don't remember this.
•(Around 17.) We were messaging eachother and it somehow turned in to him hinting if I saw this one animated video, it was a porn one. I said no, and to that he sent me a screenshot of it. It wasn't anything bad or anything, just the start of it and nothing was revealing, he then asked if I was sure. And how he was surprised that I hadn't.
•(Around 17.) I don't really get my period, we still don't know why. But as I was getting a lot of blood tests, my stepdad was trying to check things off the list of what it could be. One of those being that my opening is just extremely tight I guess, because he asked if I ever tried penetrating myself. I admitted that I did, but I couldn't get it to exactly go in. Which he then decided to make a comment saying how It's just my 'technique'. I wonder if the only reason he asked that was to see if I ever tried anything out of morbid curiosity.
•(Around 17 again.) He randomly bought me dildo's once, I didn't ask him for them, he just bought them for me and it was wildly uncomfortable. Once he gave me them, he asked if I wanted him to show me how to use them. I said no, which he then said something about how if I ever did then I could ask him. I worry what would have happened if I did say yes.
•When I was around 14, I went glamping. I ended up having to share a bed with him. One of the nights, I woke up to his hand just on top my crotch. I tried grabbing it and moving it away but it just fell back down on to it. I don't know if he put it back there on purpose. I still question if it was a dream, I'm very sure it wasn't because I remember going back to sleep, but it still just bugs me.
•Around 17, I was upset for some reason and he was comforting me. During this, he randomly grabbed the inside of my thigh. I usually just wear a shirt and boxers, so he basically just grabbed my naked thigh but I don't know if he was doing it in a comforting way.
•Usually when I draw, I have my knees up to my chest so it's easier to use my tablet. Considering what I wear for pyjamas, I can always see him looking at my crotch when he comes in to my room. If he really can see everything I don't understand why he doesn't just tell me to put my legs down.
•He's made a lot of uncomfortable jokes over the years too. One of the ones that upsets me sometimes is that, when he was measuring me for a binder, I was constantly moving around because it was uncomfortable since I was just in a sports bra. As he was leaving, I think I told him about how it was uncomfortable for me or something along those lines. He then turned around and shouted "oh come on, it's not like i was fingerings your pussy or anything."
•Very recently, I asked him if I looked okay before going to college. After a bit of back and fourth he said "I wouldn't kick you out of bed, maybe you could find someone in college who would do the same."
•Other times when I asked him if I looked okay, he'd go on tangents about how my ass is great or how he would date me or be too nervous to talk to me if he was my age.
•One of the more recent jokes was when I dropped a mayonnaise lid on my lap. Nothing got on me, but my stepdad turned to me then turned to my mum and shouted "if anyone starts accusing us, just tell them it was mayonnaise!" Or something like that.
•I remember after we watched the new mean girls film, he started going on saying about how he wanted to rewatch it for the Halloween seen (if you know you know) for the 'panty action'. Which rubs me the wrong way because I'm very sure the girls are supposed to be around my age.
•I'm very sure he also made this fake account, pretending to be one of my old groomers that I tried to cut off, just to message me about nsfw topics and ask for pics. It's a whole long yap about paranoia and just suspicions so I won't get into it though. If I tried to provide all the evidence I have, it'll take forever and there's no point.
There's definitely way more things that he's said, joked and done. But I'm only now beginning to realise that they're not okay. Even when I was younger, I was sort of uncomfortable around the jokes so I would just zone out, leading me to not remembering them now.
I probably will never accept that what happened to me was bad, or a big issue. Especially due to the 'lovely' people on here. Thank you for telling me immediately that I was a liar before you even knew what happened, that I shouldn't blame an 'innocent man', that you hope he comes in and rapes me to the point I split open and bleed. Thank you for telling me that my parents were just trying to promote a sex positive household, that some of the things were questionable at most. Thank you so much for saying I deserved it because I didn't send you pictures. You all made me feel like shit and I'm probably never going to tell people in person what happened to me, out of fear I would be ridiculed due to how much of a baby I'm being. I wasn't raped, so I have no place to cry or even think about it. I'm being overdramatic.
If you even read to this point, you're an angel.
submitted by Polypedatess to abusesurvivors [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 14:08 Polypedatess Is this even bad enough to have ptsd

Trigger warning. Also I'm sorry, this is a really long post but I'll bullet point most stuff down.
I'm just so tired all the time, it literally feels like I can sleep all day. I have a normal sleep schedule, but everyday I just feel so exhausted. I have dark circles under my eyes and I have no energy to do anything anymore. I just lay in bed all day and want to rot. I feel suicidal, I just want to die all the time and it's getting worse. I get nightmares of him, not of what exactly happened but just of different sa from him. I feel like there's no point in going on anymore, I don't think it's going to get better. I don't exactly know what it's like to have a flashback, but I think I've experienced them. I have really bad maladaptive daydreaming, but I don't think it's that. It's like I'm there again, I can't control it or stop it or rewind it. It's like it's happening all over again and that I'm there and I can feel it. When it's happening I just sit there and cry and I feel like screaming but I obviously can't do that so I have to hold it in. My head feels like it's burning constantly too, like the back of my head feels so fucking warm and hot. Like my brain is melting. And I just want to die and I'm so tired I just want to sleep and never wake up again.
•The one big thing that makes me feel valid is that, when I was 11, my stepdad fingered me in my bedroom. I won't go in to too much detail or anything, it's unimportant. But the entire time he just stared at me and everything was silent, like he was waiting for my reaction. Our relationship has always been odd, so I wanted it. But eventually I got scared and told him something, I don't remember what it was but it got him to stop immediately and he apologised too. I don't remember much after, as in I don't know if he left my room or I left first, but I immediately went to the bathroom. Which was when I discovered I was bleeding.
•Around this time, for some strange reason I would repeatedly say to him "fuck me daddy." This would either be in person, or over messages. I remember once, when I was in school, I messaged him that. He told me to stop in case one of my friends saw. I don't know why he didn't tell me to stop for other reasons.
•One day, after telling him that in person, we were in my parents bedroom. I was sat on his bed and he was in front of me in his weird chair. He then started going in to detail about how I wanted him to fuck me, I can't remember exactly what he said, it was like I zoned out. Everytime I try to recall it now it literally feels like bugs start to crawl up me, I don't understand why. I remember the last part, and his really disgusting hushed and gentle voice. He asked if I wanted him to "cum inside of me", or he was just explaining how that would finish. I'm not really sure.
•Still around this same time period of me being 11-12, I would ask him to 'squish me.' The reason why we would call it that is because I would be on my back, my legs would be up all the way to where my head is and he would be on top of me in a way that would 'squish me'. Basically like that one sex position. I would usually be wearing my school uniform when that would happen, so a skirt. During the 'squishing', he would push down on me, so our crotches would basically be against eachother. I don't know why, but I would continuously ask him to 'squish me' and during it I would even say the whole "fuck me daddy" thing. Only recently have I realised that he was probably just pretending to fuck me.
•Other things had happened around that age too, like how we would talk about how many times we masturbated a day and compare it to eachother. Sometimes if I was abruptly going to my room, he would ask if I was going to go masturbate, since we were 'close like that' I would tell him. He would often recommend me NSFW Instagram model accounts. I was once tricked in to sending feet pics to this guy, which really isn't that serious and whenever I brought it up with friends they find it fucking hilarious. But the detail I always leave out is that, I did bring that up with my stepdad and he proceeded to tell me that he already knew. Which means he was spying on me through the crack of the door. If that already didn't bother me, I don't understand why he just allowed me to send those pictures, if he was watching why the hell didn't he stop me?
•I'm pretty sure this also happened around the age of 11 as well, recently, a memory resurfaced but I barely remember it. Basically, I was sucking on his neck. I don't remember who said it, but either him or my mum spoke up and laughed, saying that I needed to stop otherwise I would "give him a hickey." The reason why I wouldn't be surprised if my mum was in the room at the time is because she doesn't care about what he does. She knows everything and just doesn't fucking care.
•I'm very sure that, around that age, my parents begun to expose me to their loud sex. I wouldn't be surprised if it started even younger, however. Obviously, I tried to bring it up with them at the ripe old age of 11 and my mum immediately shot me down with a "it's natural." This only stopped recently, around this year, because I had a big panic attack over hearing them and my mum finally felt guilty. I started getting panic attacks over it the minute it started, maybe the panic attacks were a sign of the trauma when I was younger, but I'm convinced it is now. I heard it so many times that I began to get paranoid every night, I would start to hear it even if they weren't upstairs (I sound crazy, I know.) I would get so anxious every night in case I would hear it, to the point I started to really resent them from it. I know fine well I could just go to sleep before them, but sometimes they even woke me up with it, on numerous occasions.
•I'm convinced my stepdad wanted me to hear it. Around the time of it finally stopping, I got mad because i was hearing it again (I'm unsure if it was due to me hearing shit or they actually were) but it caused me to take my bedding and go downstairs to sleep. In the morning, I was rudely awoken to my stepdad slamming the door open and storming past. He's not usually like that when people are sleeping, so it instantly gave me the impression that he was pissed off and the only reason I can think of is that he was angry I wasn't there to listen.
•He used to tease me for my paranoia to. As a way to discourage them from getting intimate, I would leave my door open at night. This happened around this year, but I was doing that again and I messaged my stepdad if they were actually going to sleep. It then somehow turned to him making a dig about how he knew I gets anxious at night and when I asked why he sent me "In case me and your mam have sex. 😜" Before, I tried to resolve this issue by begging them to just tell me if they were gonna have sex or not so I could sleep downstairs (because I was gonna find out the hard way anyways.) And they kept on refusing? Which just gave me the impression that they wanted me to listen more.
•Around 11 again, he would often tell me details about his and my mums sex life. Like how he was always good at pulling out and the only time he would wear a condom is right when he was about to finish. But the reason why my sister came to be was because he just failed to pull out that one time and my mum refused to get an abortion. Another time, he went on about how him and my mother had sex during her period and how they had to use towels and they didn't enjoy it because it was too messy.
•I don't know if he did things before the age of 11, my memories are very faded and it's like there are major gaps throughout everything. I'm worried that he did, however. When I was very young, I remember having no accidents at all during the night. But then, around the ages of 9, I would have an accident basically every night and would get a lot of water infections. I know that's a classic sign of child sexual abuse, but I don't want to jump to conclusions or anything.
•Another reason as to why I believe more things had happened to me than what I know of is because I always seemed to know what sex was when I was young, but I wouldn't know the name or anything specific about it like how to get pregnant or what cum was. Though, even though I didn't know what it was, it was like I always thought about it, I could never not think about sex, it was disgusting. This stayed until I was around 13. I remember where I even asked my 'boyfriend' at the time, we were both around 8, if he wanted to have sex, and I have no idea why.
•Over the years, he would flash me frequently. Everytime, I would always believe it was an accident because he'd never acknowledge it, besides from that one time which he always jokes about it and blames me. Everytime he would flash me, it would either be because of a convenient hole in the crotch of his pants or because he was wearing very lose fit shorts and it would just be hanging out. The more I think about it, I'm very sure he would have been able to feel such a thing, especially when it was poking out of the hole, but it was like he was just oblivious.
•For some strange reason, when I was younger, I would make comments about small dicks. I don't know if I was commenting on his dick specifically, but he would always say the same thing. "Width matters more than length."
•Recently, around 16-17, he made a joke about how he listens to me masturbating. Once he noticed how shocked I looked, he then went on saying about how my vibrator is too quiet to hear.
•Around 17 again, I went to use the shower. The shower I use is the one that's connected to my parents room. When I locked the door, he got madish and started making comments about it. I had to defend myself, saying how 'the door would open on it's own if I didn't lock it'. Eventually, he backed off.
•I don't understand the point in the fucking door and lock to my bedroom anymore. Whenever I decided to lock my door, my parents start shouting at me through the walls, asking why I locked my door. My stepdad barely knocks, it's like a tap and he doesn't even wait sometimes. I remember seeing a past message from an old friend saying how he tried to walk in when I was changing and that he knew I was changing. I didn't explain myself, I really wish I did because I don't remember this.
•(Around 17.) We were messaging eachother and it somehow turned in to him hinting if I saw this one animated video, it was a porn one. I said no, and to that he sent me a screenshot of it. It wasn't anything bad or anything, just the start of it and nothing was revealing, he then asked if I was sure. And how he was surprised that I hadn't.
•(Around 17.) I don't really get my period, we still don't know why. But as I was getting a lot of blood tests, my stepdad was trying to check things off the list of what it could be. One of those being that my opening is just extremely tight I guess, because he asked if I ever tried penetrating myself. I admitted that I did, but I couldn't get it to exactly go in. Which he then decided to make a comment saying how It's just my 'technique'. I wonder if the only reason he asked that was to see if I ever tried anything out of morbid curiosity.
•(Around 17 again.) He randomly bought me dildo's once, I didn't ask him for them, he just bought them for me and it was wildly uncomfortable. Once he gave me them, he asked if I wanted him to show me how to use them. I said no, which he then said something about how if I ever did then I could ask him. I worry what would have happened if I did say yes.
•When I was around 14, I went glamping. I ended up having to share a bed with him. One of the nights, I woke up to his hand just on top my crotch. I tried grabbing it and moving it away but it just fell back down on to it. I don't know if he put it back there on purpose. I still question if it was a dream, I'm very sure it wasn't because I remember going back to sleep, but it still just bugs me.
•Around 17, I was upset for some reason and he was comforting me. During this, he randomly grabbed the inside of my thigh. I usually just wear a shirt and boxers, so he basically just grabbed my naked thigh but I don't know if he was doing it in a comforting way.
•Usually when I draw, I have my knees up to my chest so it's easier to use my tablet. Considering what I wear for pyjamas, I can always see him looking at my crotch when he comes in to my room. If he really can see everything I don't understand why he doesn't just tell me to put my legs down.
•He's made a lot of uncomfortable jokes over the years too. One of the ones that upsets me sometimes is that, when he was measuring me for a binder, I was constantly moving around because it was uncomfortable since I was just in a sports bra. As he was leaving, I think I told him about how it was uncomfortable for me or something along those lines. He then turned around and shouted "oh come on, it's not like i was fingerings your pussy or anything."
•Very recently, I asked him if I looked okay before going to college. After a bit of back and fourth he said "I wouldn't kick you out of bed, maybe you could find someone in college who would do the same."
•Other times when I asked him if I looked okay, he'd go on tangents about how my ass is great or how he would date me or be too nervous to talk to me if he was my age.
•One of the more recent jokes was when I dropped a mayonnaise lid on my lap. Nothing got on me, but my stepdad turned to me then turned to my mum and shouted "if anyone starts accusing us, just tell them it was mayonnaise!" Or something like that.
•I remember after we watched the new mean girls film, he started going on saying about how he wanted to rewatch it for the Halloween seen (if you know you know) for the 'panty action'. Which rubs me the wrong way because I'm very sure the girls are supposed to be around my age.
•I'm very sure he also made this fake account, pretending to be one of my old groomers that I tried to cut off, just to message me about nsfw topics and ask for pics. It's a whole long yap about paranoia and just suspicions so I won't get into it though. If I tried to provide all the evidence I have, it'll take forever and there's no point.
There's definitely way more things that he's said, joked and done. But I'm only now beginning to realise that they're not okay. Even when I was younger, I was sort of uncomfortable around the jokes so I would just zone out, leading me to not remembering them now.
I probably will never accept that what happened to me was bad, or a big issue. Especially due to the 'lovely' people on here. Thank you for telling me immediately that I was a liar before you even knew what happened, that I shouldn't blame an 'innocent man', that you hope he comes in and rapes me to the point I split open and bleed. Thank you for telling me that my parents were just trying to promote a sex positive household, that some of the things were questionable at most. Thank you so much for saying I deserved it because I didn't send you pictures. You all made me feel like shit and I'm probably never going to tell people in person what happened to me, out of fear I would be ridiculed due to how much of a baby I'm being. I wasn't raped, so I have no place to cry or even think about it. I'm being overdramatic.
If you even read to this point, you're an angel.
submitted by Polypedatess to ptsd [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:57 Emotional-Recover542 rant/need rational reassurance.

i’m at work right now and i’ve started to feel bad. i feel nauseous and very weak, a little shaky.
i’m pretty sure my nausea and weakness is due to hunger and low blood sugar because i’ve been ignoring my stomach growling for four hours now. i also woke up at 5 starving but i just had a biscuit to shut my stomach up so i could go back to sleep. i’m not sick to my stomach and id be able to eat so i know i’m likely ok.
yes, the simple answer is to just eat something but i avoid doing this at work because unfortunately i suffer with rcpd and am always even more nauseous and experience chest and abdominal pain after eating which is something i’m not equipped to deal with whilst running a shop on my own. i’m having to pick the lesser of two evils right now.
trouble is i’ve started to get anxious and now i feel super ill and want to gag. i really don’t know what to do? i’ve got 4 hours of my shift left and feel so rubbish!
i also dreamt about stomach bugs so that’s pissed me off lol.
wtf do i do?? i cant go home because A) i’ll get fired B) i cant get home without a lift and don’t have that.
someone just tell me i’ll get through this and some advice if you have any?!
submitted by Emotional-Recover542 to emetophobia [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:56 shekhawati What Is Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery and How Does It Help with Wrist Pain?

What Is Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery and How Does It Help with Wrist Pain?
https://preview.redd.it/bf05uv4f8y3d1.jpg?width=2240&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1aa301d2f2a7e44ec01f892b1cc7e73e4141e739
Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS) is a common condition that causes pain, numbness, and tingling in the hand and arm. It occurs when the median nerve, which runs from the forearm into the palm of the hand, becomes pressed or squeezed at the wrist. Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery is a procedure designed to alleviate this pressure and provide relief from the symptoms. If you're experiencing wrist pain and suspect you might have CTS, seeking treatment from the Best Orthopedic Hospital in Jaipur, such as Shekhawati Hospital, can make a significant difference in your recovery and quality of life.

Understanding Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery

Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery is a minimally invasive procedure aimed at relieving the pressure on the median nerve. The surgery involves cutting the transverse carpal ligament, which forms the roof of the carpal tunnel, to enlarge the tunnel and decrease pressure on the nerve. This can be done through two main approaches:
  1. Open Release Surgery: This traditional method involves making a small incision in the palm to directly access and cut the ligament.
  2. Endoscopic Release Surgery: This newer technique uses a tiny camera (endoscope) inserted through a small incision to guide the cutting of the ligament with less direct exposure.

How Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery Helps with Wrist Pain

1. Relieves Pressure on the Median Nerve

The primary goal of carpal tunnel release surgery is to relieve the pressure on the median nerve. By cutting the transverse carpal ligament, the tunnel space is increased, which alleviates compression on the nerve. This relief of pressure can significantly reduce or eliminate the pain, numbness, and tingling associated with CTS.

2. Restores Hand Function

Many individuals with CTS experience weakness in their hands and difficulty performing tasks that require fine motor skills. By relieving nerve compression, the surgery can help restore normal hand function, allowing patients to resume their daily activities without discomfort or limitations.

3. Improves Quality of Sleep

CTS symptoms often worsen at night, disrupting sleep due to pain and numbness. Post-surgery, patients typically experience a significant reduction in nocturnal symptoms, leading to better sleep quality and overall well-being.

4. Minimizes Long-Term Nerve Damage

If left untreated, prolonged compression of the median nerve can lead to permanent nerve damage and muscle atrophy in the hand. Carpal tunnel release surgery can prevent these long-term complications, ensuring the preservation of hand strength and function.

The Recovery Process

Recovery from carpal tunnel release surgery varies among patients, but most can expect to resume normal activities within a few weeks. Key aspects of the recovery process include:
  • Rest and Immobilization: Initially, the wrist may be immobilized with a splint to protect the surgical site.
  • Physical Therapy: Gentle exercises and physical therapy may be recommended to restore strength and flexibility in the wrist and hand.
  • Pain Management: Post-operative pain is usually mild and can be managed with over-the-counter pain relievers.
  • Follow-Up Care: Regular follow-up appointments with your surgeon ensure proper healing and address any concerns.

Choosing the Best Orthopedic Hospital in Jaipur

For those considering carpal tunnel release surgery, selecting a reputable hospital with experienced orthopedic surgeons is crucial for optimal outcomes. Shekhawati Hospital, recognized as the Best Orthopedic Hospital in Jaipur, offers several advantages:
  • Expert Team: The hospital boasts a team of highly skilled orthopedic surgeons with extensive experience in performing carpal tunnel release surgeries.
  • Advanced Technology: Shekhawati Hospital is equipped with the latest medical technology and facilities to ensure precise and effective surgical interventions.
  • Comprehensive Care: From diagnosis to post-operative rehabilitation, Shekhawati Hospital provides a full spectrum of care tailored to each patient's needs.

Conclusion

Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery is a highly effective treatment for relieving wrist pain and other symptoms associated with Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. By reducing pressure on the median nerve, the surgery can restore hand function, improve quality of sleep, and prevent long-term nerve damage. For those seeking expert care, the Best Orthopedic Hospital in Jaipur, such as Shekhawati Hospital, offers top-notch services and comprehensive care to ensure the best possible outcomes. If you’re experiencing wrist pain or other symptoms of CTS, consult with the specialists at Shekhawati Hospital to explore your treatment options and take the first step toward relief and recovery.
submitted by shekhawati to u/shekhawati [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:51 kawapawa [PI] When a massive storm hit town, you take shelter in your basement. When you emerged the next day, the town looks untouched, and no one knows why.

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.
submitted by kawapawa to WritingPrompts [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:38 stonerxmomx almost unbearable cyst(?) pain

hey y’all so for the past two years i’ve been experiencing sometimes annoying, sometimes excruciating lower mid back pain. first time it happened was the worst it’s ever been & i truly thought i was going to 💀. went to the hospital that night and they weren’t very informative, told me to go to cvs to buy pain reliever so lol. but ever since then it would happen maybe once a month. i’ve went to the hospital every time and they dismissed it as a multitude of things til one doctor said it was a giant cyst causing me all that pain. never did anything about it and til this day i still experience this pain. at the moment i’ve been up 24 hours due to it. sometimes when it’s at its worst it’ll make my chest feel tight with anxiety & extremely nauseous. have any of y’all experienced this? i’m scared it’s the same cyst for the past two years just sitting in there growing 😵‍💫
submitted by stonerxmomx to PCOS [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:19 THC-Toxic W: OE/any/AWR T-51b Right Arm & Left Leg, Uny/any/AWR FSA Chest & Right leg. Q25ffr25 Gamma Gun,BSSS Sledge, Plan: Deep-space alien power armor helmet paint H: list

Stuff I have: AA25aim90 HF AA2515r Lever AA2515vc Fixer AASS90 Sledge Aristo2525 Hunting Rifle B2515vc Assault Rifle BE15vc Assault Rifle B2515r Assault Rifle B15ap25 HM BE25 Lever B4025 Chainsaw BSSS Pickaxe BSSS Switchblade E2525 50cal I50c15c Lever J2525 50cal J2590 Cryo J4040 Drill MuSSS Super Sledge Med50c25 Alien Disintegrator TSE25 Lever TS50c15r Gatling Gun VE25 LMG V50c25 Crossbow USA Mask (1:1 for FSA) OE/stSent Raider Power LA OE/FireJWR USA RL Uny/peAWR Marine LL Uny/end/Sent USA RA Boxmod: Align Autobarrel EPR, Flux, Caps T51b parts Im looking for: OE/?/AWR Right Arm + Left leg. Forest Scout Armor parts Im looking for: Uny/?/AWR Chest and Right leg. (FSA only please)
submitted by THC-Toxic to Market76 [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 13:17 TheDreadPirateRobots [Have Gun - Will Travel] - 1.8

[INDEX]
I banked the fire and stared into the golden eyes of Beatale before I crept into my makeshift tent.
I still had my auric vision running and couldn’t help but notice the thin silver cord that ran from me to Horse. Firming up my aura, I reached out with my hand and grabbed it. I could feel the nearly imperceptible vibration between my fingers as I used my mind to probe at the thread. I could feel a bright spark of intellect, a light at the end of a tunnel. Pushing with my mind, I slid down the thread until the spark grew larger and eventually filled my inner vision with a hazy white light. Horsey thoughts nudged at me curiously.
I slid into the haze and immediately lost all sense of direction. If it wasn’t for the silver thread, I’d have no idea how to exit this shifting white fog. Horsey thoughts got stronger as I followed the thread while the haze thinned and cleared to reveal an endless prairie of green grass. I found myself standing before a naked man wearing a horse mask and I stared in shock. It was obviously me wearing a cheap costume horse mask — there was no mistaking my tattoos.
“What did you expect?” Horse neighed at me. “I am you and you are me and we are all together. Goo goo ga joob.”
Horse made a shooing motion with his hands and I accelerated backwards through the white haze and slammed into my own body with a gasp. I stared at the tarp overhead for a long minute, processing this new revelation. Horse was a part of me, a piece of my spirit. Whatever psychic stuff I did with that silver cord lead me into a house of mirrors where I got to look at myself pretending to be a horse. I can’t even deal with that right now.
Rolling into my blankets, I dropped off to sleep.
*Ding*
-=- - Welcome to the Dreamworld - Included in the Psychic Skills pack, the Inner Sanctum is your psychic domain. It is the mental fortress that you must secure and maintain to defend against psychic and spiritual assaults. All of your neurosis and fears are symbolised in this realm and must be defeated or subjugated before you can become master of the domain. Good luck. -=-
I banished the pop-up and looked around. I knew I was asleep, but everything was just as real as when I was awake. I was breathing, I could feel the floor under my feet, and if it weren’t for the pop-up, I would have sworn I had been teleported. The room I was in resembled an oversized luxury prison cell, maybe a thirty foot cube. No windows. Rough stone walls with thick mortar. Large brass wall sconces were set directly into the stone and suffused the room with a warm, golden light provided by glowing rocks. The stone floor had colourful Persian rugs tastefully placed. A high plaster ceiling was painted with a rendition of Michelangelo’s ‘Creation of Adam’, depicting me as both Adam and God.
There was a comfy sofa in front of a large screen television that hung from one wall and an ornate grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner. It was currently 10:08 PM. Another wall was a floor to ceiling bookshelf, stuffed with books of varying sizes. The third wall was covered with pictures and I could see at a glance that they were images from my life. The fourth wall had a thick riveted steel door on the right side, a full sized mirror on the left, and a computer workstation in the middle.
The picture wall was my first target. A few were quite large, nearly life sized, while others were tiny prints no larger than the palm of my hand. Scenes of my life were displayed in each one. The largest was me riding Horse with a shit-scared expression, shooting at a pack of wolves. Others were smaller, each with different frames. Some ornate gold or silver, others plain wood, a few wrapped in briars or barbed wire. Nanny Ramsey holding me as a young child. My dog Jean with a red ball in his mouth. My parents, screaming at me. I turned my attention to the books. Books are safe. Books don’t judge you.
The sweet, musty scent of a used book store filled my nostrils as I drew close to the honey coloured shelves. Hundreds of volumes filled the wall from floor to ceiling, with a ladder that could be rolled along a rail to access the top. I smiled at the sight. I had always wanted a library like this. I pulled a book at random and read the title, “Confused Fantasies about Joseph Harris, part XXIV of the Middle School Years”.
I slid the book back onto the shelf. Let’s see what’s on TV.
The remote was a slim, futuristic looking affair with a minimum of buttons. I pointed it at the television and moments later the huge screen came to life and presented me with a simple menu for movies, divided into six categories: Happy, Surprised, Afraid, Disgusted, Angry, and Sad. I scrolled through the offerings for a minute, reading the titles and reviews about the movies of my life. It really bothered me that there were so few selections in the Happy section.
The number of Sad movies increased by one.
I walked over to the mirror and noticed there was a small sticky note pasted to it. “Astral Realm. Experienced users only.” I shoved the note in my pocket and stared at my image. Sturdy black boots, black denim jeans and shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons, deep brown gun belt slung at my hip, red bandanna and black felt hat. All I needed was a pencil moustache and I would look like the stereotypical villain in any spaghetti western. At that very moment I decided to grow out a goatee. I’d rather be mistaken for a bad guy than a victim.
So how does this astral realm thing work?
The mirror appeared to be nothing more than a mirror. It was cold, smooth glass surrounded by a wrought iron frame, and reflected my image. I didn’t necessarily want to go walking into danger, but I wanted to know how it worked. I pushed and prodded the glass in frustration until I noticed my image grinning at me. I jumped back in surprise and it doubled over in silent laughter.
“Hilarious, dude. You got me,” I huffed. “So how do I get in?”
My mirror-self tipped his hat and stepped to side.
I reached up to the mirror again and my hand passed through, vanishing as if cut off. Okay, just a quick peek and we’ll explore the rest of the room. I stepped through and the world shifted around me. I was standing back at the campsite. My body was insubstantial as a ghost and the tarp was a wisp of substance running straight through me. Non living things don’t seem to have much presence in this realm. Glancing down, I saw my sleeping body rolled up in the blankets, a thin silver thread running from it to me, and another thread running to Horse.
Looking around, I surveyed the campsite. My astral vision seemed to be on and had an unlimited range. I could see the life all around me, the distant forest was a sea of greenish-gold, grasses and brush nearby glowed with spectral light. Tiny ghost insects scurried while ghost mice nibbled at whatever ghost mice nibble on. Ghost seeds and ghost insects, I suppose. I turned my attention overhead and gaped at the sight of a monstrous serpentine spirit flying through the inky void. I dropped back through the tent and rolled inside my body. That was plenty enough for now.
I rolled through the mirror and landed flat on my back, staring at the fresco on the ceiling. Vinnie-God winked at me and Vinnie-Adam grinned. Climbing to my knees, I brushed non-existent dust from my trousers and watched mirror-me doubled over in soundless laughter.
“Hey, laughing-boy!” I yelled at him. “You’re like the guardian or something, right? You got it covered?”
Mirror-me stood and saluted with a smile, then gave me two thumbs up. A moment later, his face took on a serious expression and he wriggled his right hand in the ‘maybe’ motion. Then he pointed at me, tapped his wrist, and then a finger to his head.
It all depends on how fast I learn stuff, I guess.
Two thumbs up and a winning smile reflected back to me.
A large cork board was mounted to the wall over the computer and a small note was pinned to it. “Note to self: Don’t fuck with the Elvish womens.”
The computer screen featured a screensaver of me as Vitruvian Man doing callisthenics over the words ‘HumanOS’. I tapped the spacebar and was rewarded with the sound of powerful fans kicking to life as the computer emerged from sleep mode and prompted me for a password. Should I assume it’s the same as the password on the computer I pawned in my previous life?
Password: *******esi
I was rewarded with a sweet R&M desktop and a couple of icons. System, NeuralNet, My-Tunes, My-Movies, My-Office.
System was just what I expected, lots of .dna files and other confusing scariness that allowed me to tweak my physical body and mental state. My-Tunes was a collection of every song I’d ever heard and My-Movies was a collection of every movie I’d ever seen. Not that I’m complaining, but it would have been nice to have “My-Games” so I could play RDR. My-Office was a clone of the popular software by a similar name. I have no idea what I’ll ever need a spreadsheet for in this world.
NuralNet opened up a search engine called Me-Seeks, featuring a familiar blue guy.
I typed in “beer” and several thousand results were displayed, anything I’d ever read, heard, or watched about beer, including how to make it. This right here made the price of admission totally worth it, access to an exact copy of everything I’d ever read, and I was a voracious reader. Sadly, most of the stuff I read was futurology — solar panels, electronics, biotech advancements, quantum computing. The material for steam engines, blacksmithing, farming and the like, were slim pickings. That’s okay though, I could still reproduce the Gutenberg press, the cotton gin, simple internal combustion engines, and basic batteries along with some sketchy knowledge of metal alloys, acids, bases, and other things I had read over the years. All that wasted time watching “How Things Work” was finally going to pay off. I copied a few likely money makers to My-Office, saved the file, and exported to my Notes, just in case they didn’t exist on Aerth.
A popup covered the screen.
📱 [New Upgrade Available!] 📱
🎉 Enhance Your Experience with the Latest HumanOS Features! 🎉
🌟 Features Include:
🔥 Special Offer: Only 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0! 🔥
[Upgrade Now ✅] [Remind Me Later ❌]
Apparently I could upgrade myself, which reduced the cost of using my Utilities while providing other minor benefits. My Utilities would level up as I used them, which would increase their battery cost, so if I didn’t keep pace with an update to the OS they could become prohibitively expensive to operate.
Stupid pay-to-win world.
So, do I pay 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0?
I selected version 3.0 and klicked [Install]. After watching it download the update, it popped up another screen that asked if I wanted to update now, or wait until Midnight for the mandatory update.
I selected [No] just as the grandfather clock chimed 10:30 PM. I wondered if time ran slower in here, because it seemed like I had spent a lot more time on the computer than 15 minutes. Walking over to the imposing steel door, I noticed a bronze key with a thin chain in the lock. There was another sticky note on the door. “Subconscious. Please keep the key with you at all times.”
That’s not scary at all, is it?
I unlocked the door with a loud clunk and pulled it open to reveal a bedroom straight out of some royal castle. I could tell immediately that it had seen better days. The tapestries on the wall were frayed and fading. The canopy over the bed had a few holes in it. A thin layer of dust covered the mantle of a small fireplace set into the wall. There was a window letting in bright sunlight and I moved over to look outside.
I was on the third floor of a keep surrounded by the walls and turrets of a modest castle. A castle that had fallen into serious disrepair. Did this represent the state of my inner mind? One tower was shattered and the curtain wall under it damaged. The lower bailey was full of litter. I could see a few soldiers walking around the allure, keeping watch.
I have people in my subconscious?
Someone behind me cleared their throat.
Whirling, I discovered a familiar old man standing in the door of the bedroom. What was left of his hair formed a white halo around his head, his face was unshaven and covered with several days of growth. He was dressed like a poor and tattered manservant, but carried himself with a dignified air.
“Woodhouse?”
“It’s nice to see the master at home,” He said with a proper English accent. “There are many matters that require the master’s attention.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, hanging the key around my neck and tucking it in my shirt. “And who are you again?”
“Your personal manservant, of course” he said with a slight bow. Walking over to the steel door, he pulled it closed and it locked with a solid thunk. “Master should always keep his inner sanctum closed. One never knows if something nasty will creep in.”
“Thank you, uh, Woodhouse. I’ll remember that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “So what needs tending and how do things work around here?”
He smiled and beckoned me with a white gloved hand. “If master would be so kind as to follow me, I’ll introduce him to the staff and explain the duties and obligations of his domain.”
I’m 99.9% certain that everyone here is just me wearing a mask, so I shrugged and followed Woodhouse out of the bedroom and into the rest of my subconscious.
Five minutes later I was on the ground floor and seated on a shabby throne with the cast of a popular —and probably very copyright protected— animation in front of me. Woodhouse was the head butler and my personal manservant. Pam was the cook and demanded that I start importing sugar and alcohol before she was shushed by Woodhouse. Carol was a maid. Krieger was chancellor and Cyril was the steward. Archer and Lana were in charge of security. Ray was the marshal in charge of everything from the stables to the blacksmith.
I stared in disbelief at the motley crew kneeling in front of me. No wonder my inner mind was in such shambles. I was overcome with an irrational sense of anger at myself.
“Arright, listen up,” I barked, my voice echoing around the room. “I swear to God that I will fire every single one of you and hire circus clowns to replace you if you keep fucking things up. No joke. Circus clowns, got it?”
I ran a hand over my face as Ray pissed himself. “The only reason I’m not putting a boot in your asses right now is because I realise that you’re aspects of me, and the people you represent are pretty damn good at their jobs when they give enough of a shit to actually do them. As a team, you’re dysfunctionally fantastic and always seem to come out ahead no matter the odds.”
Heaving a sigh, I continued. “Things have changed and I need to get my shit together. I’m going to need every one of you to pull your weight and help me help you. Get back to your duties, I’ll meet you one on one later.”
My subconscious caretakers scurried out of the room.
“I’ll have one of the maids tend to the piss,” Woodhouse assured me.
“Never mind that,” I snapped. “I honestly had no idea my mind was such a shit show. I’m very disappointed in myself.” I pictured the Angry, Sad, and Disgusted counters on my personal movies clicking up. “Show me what needs to be done and let’s get started.”
During Woodhouse’s walking tour, everything clicked into place. This was some altered version of Bodiam castle, a location that was on my bucket list of places to visit. The royal council room, located behind the throne room, contained a “living” tapestry on the wall that showed the castle and surrounding land in real time. The castle was located in the middle of a small lake, and a single wood bridge led to the mainland. A small town surrounded the lake and a wall encircled the town. Outside the wall, the land was an irregular patchwork of forest and field, with a stinking swamp to the south. The entire “kingdom” was maybe ten miles across, surrounded by impassable mountains with innumerable creeks that fed the lake which drained into the southern swamp.
“Zombies are the problem, sir.” Woodhouse said, as I surveyed the living tapestry of my mental domain.
“Zombies?” I prompted.
“Yes sir, Zombies” Woodhouse continued. “Nasty bitey things that come in from the mountains and harass the peasants. They’ve gotten especially worse over the last few months. The soldiers do what they can, but they seem to have lost all motivation. Probably because they haven’t been paid.”
“And who pays them?”
“Typically chancellor Krieger is in charge of financial matters, although Steward Figgis has taken over the duty, sir.”
“Then let’s make Figgis our first stop.”
“Very good, sir.”
The office of the steward was run by Cyril Figgis, who managed the kingdom in my absence. It was overflowing with paperwork and charts, books and scrolls piled high on every flat surface. Cyril was desperately attempting to tidy things when Woodhouse and I walked in.
“Yo..you..your majesty,” Cyril stuttered, bowing low. Scrolls fell from his overloaded arms, spilling across the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to gather them up. “I didn’t expect you to visit so soon. Please forgive the mess, housekeeping has been slacking…”
This was the guy who ran things while I was conscious.
“Shut up, Cyril” I said. “You’re responsible for everything in this office. That includes keeping it organised and tidy.”
“Y..yes milord.”
“It’s my understanding that you’re in charge of making sure everyone gets paid. So why aren’t we paying people?” I asked.
“We’re nearly out of Fuks, your majesty. I’ve been saving them for emergencies.”
“Fucks?”
“Fuks,” Cyril explained, pushing a pile of books off a large chest and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled out two small bags and emptied them on top of his cluttered desk. “Gold and Silver Fuks, the currency of the kingdom. I can’t maintain the kingdom when I have no Fuks to give.”
Behold the subconscious kingdom of Vincent J. Carter, it runs on Fuks.
“So how do I get more fuks?” I asked, examining one of the coins. It had an image of me on one side and symbol on the other that could be interpreted as “peace among worlds”.
“You kill the zombies, your majesty.”
Of course I do.
Woodhouse and I left Cyril’s office and headed towards the office of the chancellor where Krieger worked. It seemed that Cyril took over financial matters when Krieger became erratic and proposed luring all the zombies into the city and setting it on fire. Not sure how that corresponds to my own self-destructive behaviour, but I’ve had some dark thoughts over the last couple of months and I’m sure they’re reflected here.
Krieger’s office was much neater in comparison to Cyril’s, but it wasn’t by much. Shelves lined the walls and were filled with an array of questionable items, including a still snapping zombie head in a jar. While the office of the chancellor was supposed to be in charge of financial matters, it looked more like a dodgy rummage sale.
Krieger was launching sword blades at a pig carcass when we walked in.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked, standing in the doorway.
“Hm? Oh, your majesty!” he said, turning around and bowing deeply. “I’m testing a new invention. It’s a spring loaded hilt that shoots sword blades. Very useful for our soldiers.”
“Stupidest idea ever,” I snapped. “I hate everything about it.”
“Okay,” Krieger said, tossing the hilt into a nearby pile of junk. “But don’t blame me when you need to shoot a sword at a zombie and don’t have one.”
“So why aren’t you managing the financial affairs? Collecting taxes, paying people, stuff like that?”
“Because the population has declined so much none of that matters?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wellll, the population represents things you care about,” Krieger said, going into lecture mode. “And the zombies and other monsters are real or imagined problems in your way. Since you don’t care about too many things the population has shrunk to just what’s needed to keep everything running on the bare minimum of fuks. And since you don’t seem to have any long or short term goals, there’s no need to kill off the zombies and get more fuks. Everything is fine just the way it is.”
“No, it’s not Krieger” I said, grinding my teeth. “My mind is in a shambles. It’s a joke. I want it fixed. No, I want it better than fixed. I want it improved.”
“Oh! I’ve got just the thing for that!” He said, digging around in his pockets, “It’s a spring-loaded hilt that shoots swords!”
Pam and Cheryl were hanging out a gallery window jeering at Archer and Lana sparring in the inner courtyard.
“What the hell are you doing!” I snapped
They whirled in surprise and then dropped into deep curtseys.
“Your majesty!”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my centre. “Get to work cleaning this place up. Find a room, clean it, and move on to the next. Start with my bedroom, then the throne room and the council chamber, then everything else.”
Cheryl spoke up. “Can’t do it. We got no fuks to clean with.”
“You need fuks to clean?”
“Gotta buy stuff,” Pam said. “Cleaning supplies, food. You wanna eat, you’re gonna have to spend some fuks.”
“Talk to Cyril,” I ordered. “Tell him I said to get you supplied.”
They ran off in the direction of the stewards office.
I watched Archer and Lana bashing each other enthusiastically through the window.
Several minutes later the sparring couple stopped and bowed when Woodhouse and I stepped into the inner courtyard.
“Your majesty”
“My liege”
“Enough,” I said. “If you have enough energy to smash each other, you have enough energy to smash zombies. Tell me what I need to know so I can start gathering fuks.”
Archer shrugged and spoke first. “You just kill the zombies and other monsters. They drop fuks.”
“Anything special about the zombies?” I asked. “Are they fast? Do people get turned into zombies when bitten?”
“Nope,” Lana said, resting her wooden sword on her shoulder. “Most of them are slow shamblers and just need a good wack to the head to kill them.”
“Some are special,” Archer interjected. “Occasionally you’ll have some fast ones, or those that need holy water to kill. They’re just bad memories, figments of your personality that need to be eliminated. Some are worse than others.”
“The zombies are bad memories?” I asked, imagining all the bad memories that I had.
“Memories, thoughts, insecurities, metaphysical mumbo-jumbo,” Woodhouse supplied. “They are endless, but constant vigilance can keep them under control.”
“So let’s get started,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Lana and Archer lead me up to the parapet over the front gate where I looked over at the dozens of zombies milling about aimlessly in front of the entrance to my mind. Pulling out my gun, I began to pick them off, easy as shooting fish in a barrel. The crack of my spell pistol attracted more zombies and I dispatched them with ease until no more were left around the gate. As I fired each shot I could feel some sort of existential energy flowing from me, draining some hidden reserve.
“Gather up the Fuks,” I commanded. “And Lana?”
“Mi’lord?”
“There’s no excuse for this. From now on, I expect the walls to be clear of all zombies.”
“Yes mi’lord,” she said, giving me a small bow.
Turning to Archer, I shook my head. “You’re obviously my personal narcissism, so just try to stay out of Lana’s way, or better yet - try to kill more zombies than her. If you think you can.”
Archer scoffed. “No contest. I took top marks in sharpshooting.”
“That means I should expect to see results by tomorrow. I look forward to it.”
Archer looked panicked for a moment then smiled. “Sure, I can give you results.”
Turning back to Woodhouse I said “Show me what else need attending.”
Woodhouse led me through the town that represented my mind, pointing out each business that had fallen into disrepair, suggested others that needed improvements, and additions that would benefit me. In the distance, I could hear Lana and Archer shooting at the crowd of zombies and with each echoing shot I felt a tiny bit better about everything.
[INDEX]
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2024.06.01 13:00 WaveOfWire This is (not) a Dungeon - Chapter 2

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PRs: u/anakist & u/BroDogIsMyName
- - - - -
Ceele strolled through the damp grass along the outskirts of the village, a spring in her step and the dwindling scent of dew following behind. It rained yesterday, which had prevented her from going out to gather supplies, but the mild morning air had been accommodating enough for her to get an early start and make the trip. She was glad she did.
One hand clutched her new prize to her chest, while the other held a fraying wicker basket filled with herbs and some edible roots she gathered by exploring the forbidden forest. Despite her reservations regarding where she chose to go, her excitement now lingered like a steady thrum of shifting stones, giving her energy that defied how long she had been walking. She all but pranced beneath the burgeoning night's sky, gleefully toeing the line between the dirt pathways of the settlement’s outskirts and the trees of unclaimed land. Normally, her path back home would never be so close to the village, but she was far too gleeful to mind. She had come back with a sense of fulfillment and a rare object—or if not rare, then hopefully of great value.
It was hard to point to any one specific reason that she came across the orb. There had always been a ‘draw’ during her travels, urging her that there was something missing in her life, yet it was no more than a mild whim to walk in a particular direction more often than not. Once she reached this part of the continent, she was compelled to wander, never quite able to explain why she obliged the sensation besides having nowhere in particular to be. Even when she finally settled somewhere, it stayed in the back of her mind, suggesting that she was close to whatever would make the pit of vacancy go away. She ignored it, purposefully distracting herself with her work and responsibilities, yet that could only last so long. When she awoke this morning with plans to resupply, and all of her newfound spots had been picked clean by wildlife, she turned to the depths of the forest where she was warned not to tread. It was all too easy to follow the subtle tug in her chest through the loose justification.
The urge to be somewhere grew unbearable with every step closer to the forbidden area. That sense of having a direction she needed to go became stronger and stronger, until she was well into land long since forgotten. She came across an overgrown depression in the hillside, and was entranced by the foreboding image. Something about the cave just…beckoned her. She was far too weak to resist.
Horrible tales echoed into her ears as whispers of fearful voices, warning and unending, yet but a dull drone compared to her hammering heart. She navigated the trees and brushed aside unkempt vines, stepping into the cavern with a mix of expectation and trepidation, then laid eyes on the small obsidian stone perched atop a crumbling pillar. The feeling of needing to travel somewhere…stopped.
The pull was absent, which was why she held the orb close instead of placing it into her basket. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she recalled overheard tales of hidden gemstones, deep cavernous expanses, and the untold terrors that lay within. Comparing the scenes of those fables to the cave seemed foolish now; it wasn’t some torturous chamber, but a dusty depression in a small hillside. Besides, anything this pretty was sure to be worth a fair sum, and she needed the coin. Yet the thought of selling the precious-looking stone was a conflicting one. She shook off the thought for the time being, turning her attention back towards where she was going.
Shadows stretched and faded as the moon stole the last of the illumination afforded by the sun, replacing it with a calming glow that caressed the log frames and thatched roofs of various homes. A star-filled sky came into prominence as clouds lazily drifted away, revealing the promise of tomorrow’s fair-weathered arrival. It was too late for anyone to notice her treading on the edge of their town while lost in thought, but she was still careful not to get too close to the houses or livestock pens where people might be finishing the evening’s duties. It was best that they didn’t see her returning from a place she was told not to go. Still, her feet carried her near the dwellings as she took in the noises.
Ceele enjoyed the comforting chatter from a distance. Indistinct words floated freely. Meaningless gossip and warm goodbyes were exchanged between friends and family. Places of various occupations were dark and quiet, only the faint contented mewls and clucks of livestock coming from their pastures as they ate what was recently put out for them. No metal rang throughout the streets as it was struck inside a centralized smithy, no heated bartering came from an overactive trade house, and the crunch of dirt beneath transport or merchant wagons was absent, replaced by the rapid steps and yelps of children rushing to their homes before it got too dark out. It was all just gentle conversation and life drifting through the wind, taking the rustle of leaves along for the ride, just so she could hear it. Tranquil, in a word.
She wondered what it would sound like if she were yet one more voice within that crowd of kindness. Would it be loud like the larger cities? Would she struggle to maintain a thought with so many stray topics floating about? Would she once more yearn for the peace and quiet of solitude that she had grown used to, or would she immerse herself, free of judgment and laughing like the carefree young that scampered about? Did thinking about it even matter?
Her smile fell from its genuine intensity—still worn, but not as fully. She glanced downward as her stride lost its jubilant bounce, her tail losing its sway as her grey eyes examined the dry black scales that adorned her body against her wishes. It was the ugly hue of tarnished oil, unlike the skin of any other kobold she had met. Some had reds or greens, yellows or whites, while most were between a sandy tan or earthen brown. The rainbow of peculiarities was displayed by the lucky few, and she was one of them…
…Yet she was different in the worst of ways.
Even if she would rather any other colour, she supposed it was that way to make sure no one came near without accepting the unspoken risks. That was what her mother always said, anyway, though the woman hardly feared much of anything in her old age, and dedicated herself to giving her offspring all the love she had left to give—a perk of living a full life. She would always help her daughter bathe, complimenting the colour of what most were unnerved by. That was more than a decade ago now, however. Ceele’s parents had passed on while she was still young, and she took to travelling not long after, working at what she could to afford what little she needed. Never for long, though—just enough to get to the next town between where she was and where the urge to go lay. There were certainly moments she looked back on fondly, but the journey had taken its toll.
The crude material of her ‘dress’ was coarse, old, and heavy, but it helped ease the worst of spring's chill—even if it was more of a modified sack than proper attire. Still, it was all she had after the last of her clothing fell apart, and giving the repurposed material a name that reminded her of something else made it less uncomfortable to wear, somehow. It would have to do until she could afford a pitying seamstress or the like. Until then, she would pretend she didn’t look so desperate, even if it only highlighted her status and made finding work difficult.
But it did. The dishevelled garment was a far cry from the wonderful silks or breathtaking designs she had seen some women wear, harshly marking the distinction between herself and those of affluence. The clothing of commoners was also a leap in style and quality, so she couldn't say her attire was up to even modest standards. No matter how hard she squinted, and no matter how much she fantasized otherwise, she seemed every bit like the vagrant she was, down to the soil embedded in the curvature of her claws and the stains throughout her fabrics. She looked like a serf from the more oppressed lands, yet they too wore crude cottons, which said a lot about how she appeared to those who had never lived a life of servitude. It was obvious that she was an outsider. That she didn't belong amongst the rest. It made changing something as simple as her appearance all the more difficult; prospective employment always saw a young woman who seemed more likely to steal or swindle than make an honest day’s living.
There was one good twist of fate in recent memory, however, and she came upon the result of it after leaving the slowing bustle of the village behind. Her steps carried her through a small copse of trees on the outskirts of town, the small shaded path leading to the back of a large, carefully pruned clearing, a scattering of fruit-bearing trees providing even darker shadow than the already dim moonlight. She skirted along the aging fence on the border that kept predatory animals away, carefully hoisting herself over the barrier where a large vegetable garden she was responsible for tending resided. If one were to tell her she would be living in such an area several months ago, she would have smiled politely and walked away, yet here she was.
A modest, warmly lit home occupied the middle of the clearing, sitting front and centre when one approached from the village path. It looked quite cozy, surrounded by berry bushes that were just beginning to bloom as the last dregs of winter slipped away. A front patio displayed a nice table and well-loved chairs, the rustic appearance only adding to its charm as a place where friends and family spent the warm summer afternoons. A smithy to the left of the house functioned as an additional heated building during the colder months, but usually served as a storefront and to muffle the sounds of hammered iron, though that had become less common. An old stable was nearby, close enough to be accessible, but not so close as to disturb the once occupying animals with sounds of iron craft. It hadn't seen a horse in quite some time, apparently, so it was mostly a workshop for whatever tasks didn’t require fire or metal.
There was a long history attached to each little detail—from the scuffs along the wooden siding to the depressions in the ground where daily routine wore into the earth. Every fault suffered throughout the years was matched by a thousand quirks that made it feel welcoming, like the house itself was merely waiting for the next friendly face with one of its own. She knew that the inside of each building would look just as cared for.
Her concern lay outside, however. It was a comparatively miniscule space just barely visible through the sheltering trees, true, yet it was where her efforts turned into tangible results, and where a stranger’s trust was painstakingly repaid. Once overgrown grass had been laboriously trimmed, the weeds plucked and disposed of, and now nothing distracted from what she could claim she had done.
The small plots of rock-bordered soil had little buds of growing vegetables, a sense of pride never failing to bloom in her breast with the knowledge that it would be barren without her touch. When her troubles and concerns grew heavy, and fears of the future or spectres of the past loomed over her head, she could look at where she had brought life where it wouldn't otherwise be. Some days, that was enough. She smiled in appreciation at what was admittedly amateur work, the night’s sky helping to hide any inevitably made mistakes.
She enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to walk towards a neglected old tool shed that was well out of sight within the trees, far away from whatever warmth and comfort the larger house offered to everyone and anyone. She put a hand on the degrading wood of the entryway, giving one last sad smile at the garden as she dismissed selfish thoughts of taking the eventual harvest for herself. A breath cleared the uncertainty from her voice, and she pushed open the door.
“I'm home!”
= = = = =
It took a while for Altier to adjust to his situation, and even once he accepted that his mana wasn't being siphoned, he was still reeling from confusion. He had spent centuries with every year passing by without his notice, yet now he was painfully aware of each creeping second languidly dragging on with the expediency of growing grass. It was as disorienting as it was painfully nostalgic.
Time was something he was never good with, and it only got worse as a dungeon. He'd get lost in creating rooms, corridors, creatures, and whatever else needed doing, only pausing to watch or listen to the few adventurers he became interested in. There was a stint where he spent what felt like hours agonizing over new abilities or options while he let the system manage things in the background, though he supposed it might have been much longer. So many wasted days, yet he still hadn't managed to try everything he had gained access to. Some abilities were simply too niche, came with concerning titles, or held descriptions that made him wary. Anything with ‘Decay’ in the name was instantly ignored—he didn't need more reasons to fear his affinity, and from the few he took the effort to read through, they were always vile.
But his existence for the moment was no longer like those endless stretches spent pondering the minutiae of what would help his adventurers grow stronger. Now, he could follow the rhythmic sounds of footsteps and steady breathing that set a calming pace. They were someone else's, yes, but they contextualized how easy it was to slip away without the subtle noises of life that he had long since surrendered to help his family. Of course, there were more differences that he noticed since being removed from his crumbling cavern, and his sight was the newest change.
He never gave much thought to how far he could see before. Why would he? As a man, his world extended as far as he could fathom, yet was also confined to the room where he spent his days, and as a dungeon… Well, who was he to consider distance when an event happening miles away could be seen with a flicker of thought? Nothing was too far when it was within his creation. Or his ‘body,’ he supposed. Sadly, his entire perception currently consisted of the small sphere of his obsidian core, and maybe a finger's length beyond it—which is to say, not much. He could make out the fine details in the dirty burlap he was held against, and how pale moonlight slowly took over the blurred reds of sunset, but hardly anything more. It was all just frosted colours after a certain point, and he found it infinitely frustrating. He just wanted to peer beyond the haze and scaly hand holding him to confirm that the sky he remembered was still there. Alas, the sunlight faded at too quick a pace, yet one oh so agonizingly slow.
The ensuing darkness gave him nothing to do but think about where he was, not that he had any ideas. He was too curious about why he wasn't dead to bother much with his blurry surroundings after the soft-spoken kobold abducted him, thus why he only belatedly noticed how limited his worldview had become. There might have been a forest beyond his cave, but the greens and browns were gone, and the sounds of steps through brush was replaced by the distant din of a village. An idle curiosity pondered if he would recognize any descents of his ‘family tradition’ adventurers there, but he was being carried by what most considered a monster, so likely not.
That short musing was short-lived, however, and he brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He supposed he was being taken somewhere specific, but that was an obvious deduction, considering he was taken at all. The why of the matter was less so; for what purpose would someone want a Decay-aligned core? He hadn’t heard of them before…well, before he was made into one, but he couldn’t imagine many uses. Maybe he was being sold? His…kidnapper? His sudden companion seemed rather pleased by their discovery of him, so that might be the case, and it was morbidly amusing to think that a frail, sickly young man might one day become a coveted, highly valuable item. His abduction could also be a part of some cult’s nefarious activities, but he didn't want to think about that too hard. He experienced enough odd ceremonies from the adventurers who took the time to tell him their tales.
Either way, he wasn't in the dungeon anymore, and he couldn’t see where he was going. He tried to query his menu to glean an answer, but was met with a scrambled mess he suspected read ‘Synchronizing…’ and little else. It gave him a headache trying to make sense of it—which he didn't know was possible anymore—so he dismissed the text and distracted himself with blurs from whatever diluted senses he still had. There wasn’t much to observe other than the constant footfalls and the flicker of shadows on his companion’s burlap garment. They might have travelled through brush again, but it was too dark to really say for certain.
Eventually, there was something new. He heard an old latch rattle and rusted door hinges groan, then a shuddered clack that confirmed he was now in a building. His kobold acquaintance gently cooed at something before moving about the nearly pitch-black space, finally setting him down on a… He wasn’t sure what it was, besides old and wooden.
[D$#@m$n E@$*ded]
The headache from before became a blinding migraine that suffocated him under a flash-flood of suffering. Seconds passed in abject torture until it blissfully abated, the mental blinks clearing his mind enough to notice a change in his existence. Specifically, he could actually see something besides the rotting wood grain he was placed on top of.
And it wasn’t anything promising…
He was more or less in the centre of a room no bigger than twelve paces by maybe ten. Not a terrible size for a space, but it was clearly never meant to house someone. His resting place looked about as neglected as he surmised; it was an upturned feeding trough, he supposed, since calling it a table seemed too generous. The surface was rife with holes and degraded iron, so it was something that once saw regular use before being replaced and tossed into storage, never to see the light of day again.
Actually, most things in the room seemed to fit that description. The window shutters were installed with metal hinges that had since rusted them closed, the misalignment letting in a draft—and whatever weather was outside as well, most likely. A poorly carved bowl sat on the floor, the stain beneath it hinting that it collected any rainwater that slowly dripped from the leaky roof. The wooden floorboards looked old, splintered, and in need of maintenance or replacement, though an effort had been put into abrading it somewhat smooth lately.
A tiny and decrepit fireplace was to the left of the door upon entry, its brickwork slowly crumbling due to weathering and age. It was sized more for keeping the room warm during mild days than to keep away the frigid chill of night. Its base only held cold ashes, but there was a collection of deadwood and scraps nearby, so that would probably be rectified soon. A small wheel-less cart had been turned into storage against the opposite wall, some herbs and other foraged items stowed away in it for future use. Various things he remembered seeing his father and brothers use in the fields were scattered about, too. It was nostalgic to see, honestly, even if his recollections had blurred over time.
Bundles of tattered blankets formed a pair of nests in the far corner, the smaller of the two had a pile of rough plants nearby. That answered his silent pondering of the room's purpose somewhat, though he was pretty sure the bedding material was salvaged, and there didn’t seem to be any hay or padding underneath whoever was sleeping on it. He didn’t know what to think about the weeds; they were purposefully placed there, and whoever did so had taken the time to wash them, but it was still strange.
He couldn’t see a doorway besides the entrance, yet most of the hallmarks of residency were put where space could be afforded, however crude. All in all, he surmised that it was a gardening shed of sorts, and his new acquaintance apparently lived here. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when a creature he had only read about came into his dungeon, but it wasn't being brought to a rundown and decrepit shack for unknown purposes.
Even if he had been raised by parents who made a humble living at the best of times, and they had emptied their coffers for unsuccessful attempts to ease his ailments, his acquaintance's living space made him uncomfortable. His family's house was never anything fancy, true—it shared some of the worn qualities that inevitably gathered over the years—but it was never this bad. His home benefited from a father's touch keeping it robust and a mother’s love keeping it warm, whereas this place had seen neither in quite some time. Oh, there was evidence that such was once the case; a wall was adorned with carefully made and well-spaced hangers for the various gardening tools, though the implements themselves had become a victim of neglect. That being said, he could make out the fresh soil and recent scratches exposing furrows of silver, so they were seeing use again.
A scrape and clack of flint drew his attention to his kobold companion. They were kneeling in front of the fireplace, methodically sparking life back into a dead flame with twigs and dried leaves. A slow, steady breath into the reddened base illuminated its face with a dull orange glow, revealing its weary visage and the permanently etched smile that rested beneath its cold grey eyes. The black-scaled kobold looked tired, if he were to guess—much the same as Altier did when he spent countless days watching everyone living a life he could never have through the mossy window of his bedroom. He was probably humanizing it too much. Still, he was surprised by the muted pang of sympathy, and how he would feel much more than blithe curiosity after spending so much time alone in the crumbling crypt of his own making.
A mental breath cycled through him as he looked at the odds and ends yet to be observed. Hardly anything else was of note—everything else was degraded and neglected, too. He did notice a nest of blankets move though, which was as good a distraction as any. The answer to his previous ‘pile of weeds’ inquiry poked a tiny nose from a crease in the fabric, then rapidly pawed at the blankets to dig itself out. Altier stared at the creature in both recognition and confusion.
It was a rabbit…or at least it looked like one, assuming you were to also describe a porcupine and a sea urchin as well. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember any hare that had jagged metal-tipped fur, nor that had said fur arranged into a row of spiked horns that flowed down its spine, terminating at a large fluffy tail, which was equally bizarre to see. The whole of its coat could double as a weapon, with semi-sharp barbs sticking off seemingly at random, yet he remembered an adventurer saying most animals used that sort of thing defensively. He increased his focus as he tried to make sense of the odd creature. Surely he would have heard about—
[Hoppittttttt#%%÷ — Ferro-o-orabbit-it (Ma%$le)
Abil—]
[Null]
[Er0Rrrrrrrr—]
[Und#$f—]
He bit back the pain caused by the sudden intrusion of his menu, blanking out the text and mentally retreating to hide from the source. Did he just inspect something? How? Shouldn’t his entire…‘framework,’ was it…? Yes, that was it. Shouldn’t that have been corrupted? Why could he see the creature’s information when his entire framework was damaged? That was the first ability he lost, so why is it the first to be functional? How was it functional? Was it? It did just spit garbled text at him, but it was something, and that was more than he had gotten from it in a very long time. If it was somehow working—no matter how poorly—then that left the question of why he hadn't heard of anything called a ‘ferrorabbit’ before, assuming he read that correctly.
A soft thud vibrated the tro— table, startling him out of thought. He turned his attention to the button nose wiggling erratically at him, the short, stubby muzzle leading to surprisingly expressive and curious red eyes. Dull brown fur jutted off in random tufts and patches, changing to a darker tint on its paws and the upper half of its ears, while the tips of its spikes were a muted hue of iron. It still seemed just as soft as the less pointed variety he remembered, if a touch dirty. Upright ears twitched this way and that way as its head vigorously shook, eventually settling on pointing in his direction when it calmed down enough.
It was apparent that he had its undivided attention…for all of a few seconds. His scaly companion called something out in their foreign tongue, and whatever conclusion the pointy-furred animal came to, it seemed more interested in the kobold, parting from him after nudging his core with its nose.
[Cre-e-e—]
[Errrrrrr0r: Undefiiiiiiii—]
[Acceeeeep-t-t-t??]
[Yeeee— s s / Nnnnnnn—]
He winced at the intrusion, but the contents detracted from the pain. He couldn’t remember the system ever asking him a question without his explicit intent being involved. It wanted him to…accept something? Was it the system prompting him, or the animal? What was he to accept?
[Creatuuuuu—]
[Acce-e-e-%#@ed!]
…What?
= = = = =
“Hoppit, that's not food!” Ceele admonished half-heartedly, placing a larger branch on the burgeoning flame before she got to her feet. She wasn’t actually that worried; the stone was as big as his head, and she was pretty sure he couldn't bite into it. Hopefully. “Come here, momma has a treat for you!”
The ferrorabbit playfully bumped the gemstone and jumped off the low table, landing with a soft thud that belied how heavy he was for his tiny size. He wiggled in excitement, his ears flailing and releasing a slight clack whenever the two connected. It got even louder when she grabbed her basket and put away the useful herbs, taking out a specific item that she had gathered just for him. The little bun wasted no time in scurrying over and standing tall on his hind legs to judge if the offered plant was to his liking—and it was, based on how he dug in with enthusiasm. She stifled a laugh as she contentedly watched him nibble away on the treat, ignoring the guilt that came with knowing she couldn't afford proper vegetables for him. He had a hard life too, and it tore at her to have so little to give.
She came across Hoppit a year ago, during a storm that worsened while she was travelling between towns. The day had darkened to night in spite of it still being about noon, but the weather didn't care for how bright it was supposed to be. Wind and rain became a typhoon, forcing her to seek shelter in a thankfully abandoned den of what was probably a larger animal. She was fine with waiting out the squall, since the stone roof over her head was more than she usually had back then, but the sounds of dull bangs and thuds near her hideaway was followed by cries of animals yelping in pain. Curiosity won over reason, and she left the safety of her shelter to see what was causing the disturbance. Truthfully, she was hopeful that she'd come across scraps or the like, her hunger driving her forward, and she could always turn back if it seemed dangerous. Yet when she arrived at the source of the commotion, she found herself thinking of anything but food.
Two predators had fought over a small burrow, both trying to dig out a meal and taking offence to the other doing the same. What they didn’t know was that they were assaulting the home of ferrorabbits. Specifically, the home of an angry, protective, and well-fed mother that was keeping her newborns safe from the storm when predators decided to try their luck. From the scene Ceele came across, it was certainly obvious why most people dislike trying to hunt the creatures.
Sadly, the rabbit didn't survive an attack from two predators, but she did make their victory pyrrhic; neither could do much about their hunger with their bodies full of cuts and holes, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to blood loss or infection. The mother's sacrifice meant that the babies had avoided the imminent threat, but they were left unattended as a consequence, and it took an opportunistic bird swooping down to shake Ceele out of her shock. Despite her subsequent hurry, she only acted in time to save one of the orphaned young. The warren was new and barely dug out, which meant that it didn’t take much effort for the kits to be found—by both her and hungry maws. All she could do was scoop the ball of fluff into her arms and run back to the cave before anything else tried to eat it.
In retrospect, it was a stupid decision for a number of factors. She barely had the resources to supply herself, and an attempt to raise offspring of any type would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse. But when she saw how quiet and scared he was… How his tiny, shaking body calmed in her arms, those terrified red eyes seeking comfort… She should have just walked away when she knew there wasn’t going to be anything to fill her stomach. She should have put the baby animal down and let nature take its course…yet the preciously furry face stole her heart far too quickly for it to grow so cold. The next day was spent backtracking to the nearest town to get him something suitable to eat, which used most of her meagre savings. Still, it was worth every coin.
Hoppit had been accompanying her ever since. He grew quickly, transitioning from something she saved that stormy night into a presence she had grown to love like a child. The little lagomorph would bounce along beside her during her travels, then ride in her arms as he rested—though the latter happened with worrying frequency as of late. She hadn’t learned much about the springy herbivores, but she knew enough to say that he wasn't as big as he should be, nor was his fur as sharp. No matter how startled he was, his spiky coat never managed to do more than stiffen slightly, which was apparently a side effect of poor diet, according to snippets of conversation she had overheard on the topic. She wanted him to be healthy, but she didn't know what he needed. Not many farmers raised ferrorabbits, and those that did were far away, so she didn’t have anyone to ask what she should be doing. Her best course of action was to give him what little she had.
Ceele was well aware of how he would be better off on his own, but he followed her whenever she tried to set him free. Hoppit just kept launching into her arms and wiggling his ears, ecstatic that he was with her again, uncaring that food was scarce and that they spent most of their days travelling. No amount of cold nights spent bundling up under the tattered blankets she managed to find ever dampened his spirits, and he was content to eat the grass or flowers whenever he felt like it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He would dig and excitedly drag back oddities that he found, and the one time he found a plant that looked particularly good for him, he insisted that it be shared with her.
A black pit still lingered in her chest when she recalled how pleased he was while he munched on the rare vegetable he discovered, then how distressed he became when she wouldn’t have any as well. He bumped and nipped at her, all but begging her to eat. His ears pinned back against his head, his fur bristled in a way she hadn’t seen since. It was only when she took a small bite and let him inspect the new teeth marks that he seemed to calm down, but perhaps she had been looking too deep into the actions of her tiny friend. All she could say for certain was that he was scared she was going hungry.
A morbid thought wondered if his first mother had refused food shortly before being attacked, and he—as small and simple as he was—had connected the two events in his mind, making him absolutely terrified that something would happen if Ceele didn’t have something too. All of that fear, and desperation overwhelmed him, just because she was happier watching him eat. She was determined to erase that issue. She would find something that needed a worker and earn enough to feed them both. One day, she would be able to smile at how big and healthy her little fluffy boy had become, but until then, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think about how she was spending so much time growing vegetables and fruit that he couldn’t have…
Every morning was an exercise in tending to the gardens while actively shoving down images of a pleased ferrorabbit happily eating the results. That never went well; no matter how determined she was to complete her duties without a single selfish thought, most tasks were done while picturing his full belly and delighted bounces. There were a few weeks until the fastest of the crops would be ready for harvest, and Ceele would have to collect them while fighting the urge to bring back just a few for him.
She couldn’t, because she knew exactly how quickly that could escalate. It would start small—A vegetable here, a fruit there—but seeing Hoppit happy was one of the precious few good things she had in her life. Crossing the line would only become easier each time. They couldn’t risk losing their new home over greed, and she was already betraying the trust given to her by housing a wild animal, especially one known to be a pest for crops. She didn't want to know how angry it would make her benefactors if she was caught taking their vegetables for one.
No matter how tame and precious Hoppit was, and no matter how well he listened, they would only see him as the same creature that ruined harvests in droves. Thus was why she had to tell him to stay cooped up by himself while she was working or scavenging. And to her surprise, he did.
Honestly, she had made the initial request with the expectation of needing to carry him back into their home until he understood that she wasn’t leaving him forever. There wasn’t much she could do to stop the ferrorabbit from digging through the old wooden building if he wanted to get out. He wouldn’t need to damage anything either—a rotting board on the door only needed a little push to nudge it out of the way, and his natural curiosity made sure he was aware of it. But no, Hoppit was well-behaved as always, keeping hidden until she walked through the door, where he would leap from the shadows to personally show her how good he was and how he stayed put like she asked him to. It never stopped amazing her that he had such a surprising level of understanding despite being an animal, and that was to say nothing of how young he was.
All that intelligence, joy, and companionship he offered her…and yet the best she could give back to him was the weeds from the garden and the odd plant she found while scavenging…
Soft clacks of flicking ears dragged her from her pondering, her mind returning to the present. Hoppit finished his treat of the small plant, then bounced in place and scurried over to his bowl of water, perfectly happy to have eaten only that. He was so joyful with how little she provided, approaching every day of scarcity with the same enthusiasm she could never muster, as if certain that everything would be alright.
“It’s bedtime, Hoppit,” Ceele announced through a soft sigh, stoking the fire with enough branches to hopefully last the night. The ferrorabbit perked an ear in her direction, then sat on his haunches to extend the rest of himself up, his two little forepaws adorably held to his chest as he inspected the room like he always did. She smiled and made sure everything was stored away, then laid down on her bundle of blankets, covering herself with the warmest one. Hoppit bolted over to snuggle once he decided everything in the shed was up to his standards, throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flop of comfort. Her quiet laughter subsided as they both settled in for the night, her tail completing the rabbit’s encompassing cuddle, but her eyes fell towards the obsidian orb on the table, her thoughts following suit.
It sat there, just as she left it, as benign as anything else ever placed atop the improvised furnishing. Yet there was a sense of ease and purpose as well. The old wooden trough seemed…important with its adornment firmly laid upon its surface, and she couldn’t puzzle out why. She was starting to doubt her earlier excitement.
Should she sell it? Would anyone know where it came from? Would anyone know what it was, or if it was worth anything? If she could get even a modest sum for it, she would be able to buy clothing, food, and new bedding. It would be easier to convince someone to give her work if she was dressed better and wasn’t so thin, and then she would have the income to slowly improve both of their lives. She could pay for a wandering merchant to ask a ferrorabbit rancher about the animal, even if it would take time to get back to her, or maybe she could hire a local if they needed to go near one for some reason. The cost didn’t matter to her as long as it happened.
But there was something else bothering her about the idea of selling the stone. She had travelled so far with a tug in her chest, only for the feeling of wanderlust to dissipate as soon as she held it. Was that a sign? She was never one for things like ‘fate,’ but a niggling doubt in her mind discouraged the idea of making a profit off her discovery. Even if what she could gain was so very tempting, and even if Hoppit would be happier if she did…
She tore her dampened eyes away and closed them, ignoring the burning trails running across her face. It would be another early morning, and she needed to sleep so she could take care of the garden. Decisions like this could wait. Once she had nothing else distracting her, and she had time to properly think about it, she would see how she felt about the stone.
Eventually, she dozed off with Hoppit pressed against her chest, and a longing in her heart.
Next

A/N: Patreon and Ko-fi will be 1 chap ahead this time around, and I've set it so everything from the lowest tier up can read the newest trashfire! Anything above that is sheer show of love. Hope you enjoyed!
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2024.06.01 12:54 QueasyStorage637 Looking for novel

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!
submitted by QueasyStorage637 to romancenovels [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:53 Berserk2024 Official title: Matthew Hammond age 16. Class1A cause I can. (Updated)

Official title: Matthew Hammond age 16. Class1A cause I can. (Updated)
Name Matthew Hammond age 15
Quirk: Power control
Has the ability to control a type of energy only he has.
Ways to use this energy is standard strength and speed by but the power into your muscle fibers and organs to enhance their performance. Matthew can also materialize this power in different ways. He finds out how he can do this by watching others, for example shock waves ,energy tenticals, force fields, laser eyes, power balls, or claws.
With the performance enhancing with his eyes ears and touch, he will become the weave nation president.
He is highly resistant to energy based attacks.
The main weakness is energy drain. I know what y'all probably thinking, "this is like every quirks weakness cause I using your quirk can tire you out", but his quirks energy drain.
When he use his quirk, the energy runs down and if uses a all out attack he loses the energy and cant use his quirk.
But on the good side , this energy grows back over time , and since it's his quirk energy if he goes to where he let out a huge attack, he can absorbed it back. It takes like an hour to get his power back to 100% naturally if he just goes on with his day.
Mutation: * Wolf Ears and Tail: Matthew has permanent wolf-like ears and a tail, got them from his dad.
Also he can share his energy with others to enhance their quirks cause energy works like that I think.
Elemental Forms and Powers:
  1. Lightning Form (Name: Volt)
  • Powers: Electrokinesis, Enhanced Speed
Weakness: If used too much then it will damage his nervous system temporarily.
  1. Fire Form (Name: Blaze):
  • Powers: Pyrokinesis, Heat Resistance
Weakness: if you use too much then we'll gain first degree burns.
  1. Water Form (Name: Aquos):
  • Powers: Hydrokinesis, Water Healing
Weakness: No clear weakness.
  1. Ice Form (Name: Frost):
  • Powers: Cryokinesis, Enhanced Durability
Weakness: if in a heated area, then he will get weak and slower.
  1. Light Form (Name: Radiance):
Weakness: overused will make him temporarily blind
  • Powers: Photokinesis, Illusion Projection
I put darkness here because I have light so I might as well put dark, f**k physics.
  1. Darkness Form (Name: Shadow):
  • Powers: Umbrakinesis, Intangibility
Weakness: Obviously light. Even a flashlight.
  1. Plant Form (Name: Flora):
  • Powers: Chlorokinesis, Plant Communication
  1. Metal Form (Name: Alloy):
Weakness: Overtime he'll get weaker cause of rust. Water
  • Powers: Metalkinesis, Enhanced Strength
  1. Earth Form (Name: Terra):
  • Powers: Geokinesis, Earth Manipulation
No clear weakness.
How this works is his power works like a computer l well more like just a normal computer, then a virus AKA and elements infects this power and then it slowly corrupts his powers AKA but there until his body is able to use a different elements,the form is only as strong as his original form because the element can only corrupt what is there,not make more power. A little bit of this energy is still there so that it can take back control. Each form has a mind of its own like some dark shadow type thing. The reason why his forms have minds of their own is cause if I gave him full control his forms he would swap to frequently and that would be two strong.
The reason why he can do this is when he was 3 is quirk was developing and he was exposed to radiation messing with his quirk genes and when his quirk developed it added this.
Hero Costume:
  • Appearance: Matthew's hero costume features a sleek and modern design. It includes a green suit with black accents, symbolizing his main form's green hair and eyes.
  • Symbol: The costume incorporates a stylized emblem combining the symbols of all his elemental forms, representing his fusion abilities.
  • Support Items: Matthew carries specialized bracers that enhance his control over his energy whips. Additionally, he has utility pouches to store various tools and gadgets.
He also has tubes that are like water bottle size on this belt that he charges with his energy every night before he goes to bed in case he runs out of energy himself.
Has a sword made of quirkinite(past post.)
Maximum Output Move: Master Elemental
  • Description: Matthew channels and combines the energies of all his elemental forms into one ultimate attack.
  • Effects: Elemental tattoos appear on his body, symbolizing each element's power. Lightning appears on his head, fire on his chest, water on his left arm, ice on his right arm, light on his left leg, darkness on his right leg, plant on his right shoulder, metal on his left shoulder, and earth on his back. The attack unleashes a devastating and overwhelming burst of elemental energy.
Carrys amounted cannons inspired by Titan speaker man. They harness his power into either energy balls or just flat out lasers.
To make my self clear his max form when he uses all his elements he can only use 1/10 of his forms power including him as the main guy of this whole body.
Moves
Signature move; Packs fist. When Matthew charges his entire arm with power he has the target with a powerful punch, and with the recoil he hits them again so it's like a double punch with one arm.
Normal moves:
Surge. Full cowling but different.
1 Minieye(Minigun eye): Uses his laser eyes as a mini gun to help save power and hit targets with better accuracy.
Ground capture. He uses his tentacles like energy whips by forcing them into the ground and then have to make their way to their opponent grab whatever is touching the ground, and then pull them down to immobilize them.
Field fist. By using his force fields that his energy makes, he shapes them into bigger arms for durability and extra strength.
Power kick. By constantly doing a condtant (front flip like spinjitzu but in disc form and front flip) he sticks his leg out and it hits the target. If the target has high durability the the attack will keep on going like a saw.
Support moves
Force field armor. Covers his body is compressed force field power and where's it like armor. Skin tight but durable. And it see through
Clones wolf. Exposed energy and the compression it to the point it can shape itself into a copy of him and then somehow take color. The two main differences is the clones have a limited power usage, so use too much power it disappears. And in physical design difference the clones eyes are constantly green like glowing green.
Instinct. By enhancing his hearing and touch and his brain process, he can use our off-brand ultra instinct. Laughing his hearing is touch he can feel every movement in the air you can feel everything around him, and he can hear each movement in the air with his ears, and his brain calculates how long it took for the sound to reach his ear then he knows exactly where he attacked her is.
Sword moves.
Excalibur. Three swings, x slash, then stab
Powerful blade. One big vertical slash.
Ultimate Moves.
Max power. Puts all of his power into one part of his body. Arm leg or head, then uses that power in a all out melee attack.
Alpha Surge. This is a super Saiyan like form. His energy propels him as him fly freely. Insane amount of strength, speed, durability, and power.
Single elemental moves. Each form only has three.
Fire :
Blue Star. Increase heat to the fire to the point his color turns blue as hot to the touch, all damage increased.
Fire Fist. His fist as if it was made from flames, the punch is fast and strong, and on impact it's a shockwave of fire.
Jet Drive . For places on his back shoot flames constantly for speed. and then the user does a great fire kick.
Water :
Aqua alpha. Water in a wolf head from bites down on the opponent.
Drowner. Basically a small tsunami the size of a house. Many use for chaos and confusion.
Water jet cutter. You know how the water can put a specific kind of nozzle with high pressure it could be the sharpest thing in the world, and be very dangerous. Well he can do that with the tip of his finger.
Lightning:
Pinpoint thunder. All power goes into his fingertips then he strikes at one spot.
EMP. Self-explanatory. Also works on people.
Power ground. Covers the floor in electricity.
Earth :
Earthquake. Also self-explanatory.
Crystal quake. Creates rocky spikes around the area and also as crystals to them. Depending on the crystal you have different effects, quarts will make all electric attacks go to the spikes cars quarts are conductive.
Earth wall. Makes a durable wall.
Ice:
Constant shards. Smg but ice bullets.
Domain expansion, Arctic area. Covers just about the entire area with ice, giving the user just about full control over where he is fighting.
Ice capture. Traps you point it in a giant ice crystal.
Plant:
Domain expansion, Jungles Forest. Creates. A lot of trees and plants to take control of the area.
Golem. Creates a big beast made of wood and plants.
Spear. Covers his arms with wood and vines in a sharp spear.
Metal:
Weaponry. Grabs a lot of mail and constantly makes different weapons depending on the situation, maybe even a shield.
Iron spike. Crates constant metal spikes in front of the user.
Armor. Makes armor around allies.
Light:
Beam. A big ah laser.
Bounce back. Constantly reflects off objects confusing the enemy.
Bang. Just a stun grenade, but it's coming from his hands.
Darkness.
Warper. One name, kirogiri.
Consume. Absorb things into the darkness.
Control. Mind control.
Omega move. Max element.
More of a fusion of his forms , here's the list of this was powerful forms moves.
Cryogenic Barrage Matthew gathers concentrated orbs of water and ice energy He then launches a rapid-fire volley of freezing projectiles that detonate on impact
Pyroclastic Flow
Matthew ignites streams of fire energy, blending them with molten earth and metal He sweeps his arms to direct a raging torrent of scorching lava and magma
Tempest Devastation
Matthew summons torrents of water that he infuses with electrical currents He then unleashes a violent maelstrom of electrified, crushing waves
Radiant Implosion
Matthew focuses beams of light energy, bending them with dark shadow tendrils He compresses the luminous orb, creating an imploding singularity of blinding power
Verdant Tangle Matthew interweaves thorned vines with solidified metal shards His grasping, spiked tendrils ensnare and impale anything they catch
Seismic Upheaval Matthew ruptures the ground, combining earth tremors with shard-like metal spikes Jagged, uneven terrain and piercing spikes erupt from below to impale targets
Final move.
Packs punch.
All elements in one giant punch attack.
This form it's only as powerful as Dekus 100%. He can just access this all the time. He needs to have a lot of power and needs total concentration.
PERSONALITY
He's smart nice in a way sometimes a prankster if you try to roast him you will go complete PackGod on you, if he's in a bad mood don't try to comfort him you'll just make things worse and not for him for you, he's really cocky, but not bakugo cocky hes just a bit over confident. He is very creative. He loves tech to the point if you break a 30 buck phone around him, let's just say you gonna want to do a crime in front of batman before Matthew finds you.
Background:
Favorite food: Red Beans and rice
6ft 2
His mom, him , brothers, and his sister some how got the same disease that Michael Jackson had so they all went from black to white. But since you're still African they do still have passes
Hates obsesseve people.
(I'm bout to do some bull shit y'all probably won't like.)
His older brother has a pheonix quirk and he's a hero.
His younger brother has the fusion quirk that I made in a past post)
His sister has digital master quirk but I also need in a previous post.
Any way I hope y'all like my reworked oc
submitted by Berserk2024 to BNHA_OC_Characters [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:12 Rainbow_Hope I don't know where to put this....am in burnout, so....

I'm in a pretty serious burnout. Yesterday, my funny bone nerve in my left arm started acting up. I've never had issues with that arm before. I crochet, so it's a pain in the ass to have to deal with pain and numbness when you're working.
When I woke up this morning, my arm still hurt.
I live at a residential facility, and I don't have a car, so I can't just go to the ER or something. Yesterday, I did look up stretches to do, but they really didn't help. I did call an ambulance 2 weeks ago when I woke up with my wrist re-sprained from an injury. I think I'll try putting the splint on my left hand. It's not my wrist that's the issue, but oh well.
Why did my body have to do this to me?????? Physical discomfort just makes the burnout worse.
I'm sorry this is all over the place. I don't like physical pain. Thanks so much for listening.
submitted by Rainbow_Hope to AutisticAdults [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:08 GhoulGriin Best 1911 Magwell

Best 1911 Magwell

https://preview.redd.it/dg62nixjpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2bf0fd5f8fb4e47a990ee66c49d49cc75572d772
Get ready to discover the perfect addition to your weapon collection! In this roundup, we'll be diving into the world of 1911 Magwells, exploring top-rated options and unveiling their unique features. Join us as we unravel the secrets behind these versatile accessory and guide you on making an informed decision.

The Top 18 Best 1911 Magwell

  1. 1791 Stealthy 1911/SIG P220 Magazine Pocket - The 1791 Snagmag 1911 8Rd/Sig P220 RH is a sleek, lightweight, and comfortable magazine pouch designed for right-handed use, offering quick and easy access to your magazines while maintaining a classic, timeless appeal and ensuring durability.
  2. High-Quality 1911 MW Housing for Precision and Performance - Ed Brown 1911 MW Housing: Superior Components, Precision Machined, Engineered for Performance - A Lifetime of Experience in Quality Firearms Craftsmanship.
  3. Premium 1911 MW Housing Blank - Crafted with precision, Ed Brown's 1911 MW Housing Bl is a top choice for firearms enthusiasts seeking superior components and lifelong experience in engineering and combat shooting expertise.
  4. Universal Single Mag Holder for 1911 Compensators - Experience unbeatable durability and custom-fit retention with the C&G Universal Single Mag Holder, expertly crafted by veteran & law enforcement professionals for optimal 1911 compatibility.
  5. ZEV Technologies PRO Mag-well for Gen5 1911 Pistols - Upgrade your Glock 19 with the Zev Magwell Pro Compact, a sleek one-piece design offering easy installation, improved reload time, and a wider magazine opening for enhanced compatibility and muscle memory.
  6. ESD Magwell: Enhancing Glock 17 G5 FDE Reloading Experience - Enhance your reloading experience with the ESD Magwell for Glock 17 G5 FDE - designed with meticulous attention to detail and human-centered design for seamless magazine stripping.
  7. Walther PPQ Flared Magwell Aluminum Black Mag Accessory - Upgrade your Walther PPQ with the sleek, black aluminum 2835100 PPQ Flared Magwell Aluminum Black, designed for both steel and polymer frames, but not compatible with Sub-Compact or PPQ45.
  8. Stainless Steel 188S Magwell for 1911 Pistols - The Wilson Combat 188S Magazine Well is designed with a large beveled opening, solid steel construction, and quicker magazine changes for enhanced reloading speed in competitions and at the range.
  9. Intelligently Engineered Canik TCS Compact Magwell - The Canik TCS Compact Magwell Black offers a sleek, high-quality solution for 1911 enthusiasts, combining style and functionality in a renowned firearms brand known for engineering smarts.
  10. Si STRIKE80 Magwell for Strike 80 Compact Frame Kit - Upgrade your striker 80 compact frame kit with the Si STRIKE80 Magwell, a sleek and reliable addition that enhances your firearm's performance and appearance.
  11. Stainless Steel 1911 Magwell for Concealment - Experience unmatched precision, durability, and versatility with the Wilson Bullet Proof Magwell for your 1911 pistol, guaranteed to improve your competition or concealed carry capabilities.
  12. Enhanced Magwell for Glock 19/23 Pistols - Upgrade your GLOCK game with the Reptilia Black Hole Polymer Magwell: seamless fit, efficient reloads, and compatibility with Gen 3 & Gen 4 frames - all made in the USA!
  13. 1911 Magwell For SCT Polymer Glock Gen 3 Frame - Upgrade your Glock Gen 3 experience with the ultra-sleek Outdoor Green finish 1911 Magwell, perfectly designed for all G3 models (19, 23, 32) in a Gen 3 style.
  14. Zev Technologies PRO Mag-well for 1911 - Enhance Shooting Consistency and Speed - The sleek, lightweight Zev Technologies PRO Magwell is a perfect addition for shooters seeking increased performance without the bulkiness of a flared magwell, offering enhanced stability and improved reload times.
  15. ESD Magwell for Glock 17 G5 FDE: Enhanced Reloading Experience - The ESD Magwell for Glock 17 G5 FDE elevates Glock performance with a human-centered, purpose-driven design, offering easy magazine stripping and enhanced usability.
  16. Rival Arms 70s201a Magwell for Sig P320 - Enhance the performance and durability of your Sig P320 with the Rival Arms Ra-ra70s201a Magwell, meticulously crafted from CNC-machined aluminum and anodized for a sleek finish, ultimately improving balance and preventing debris buildup in the grip.
  17. High-Quality Flared Magwell for AR15, Black ARFM100 - The Sylvan Arms AR15 Flared Magwell Black ARFM100, a highly durable and reliable 1911 magwell for enhanced performance, receives rave reviews for its ease of installation and sleek, black design.
  18. Rival Arms Glock Model 19 Gen3 Magwell Upgrade - Upgrade your Glock Model 19 Gen3 with the sleek and robust Rival Arms Two Piece Magwell, featuring a black finish and a seamless fit for enhanced performance and durability.
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Reviews

🔗1791 Stealthy 1911/SIG P220 Magazine Pocket


https://preview.redd.it/hbecwpjkpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ce9d8fee6a60419537b8d3d20dc0b6eac40b1be8
Carrying a spare magazine doesn't have to be a bulky, awkward task. 1791's Snagmag 1911 8Rd/Sig P220 RH is a game-changer. This sleek, black magazine pouch, designed specifically for right-handed users, easily fits into your pocket, ready for a quick swap when you need it.
Made from authentic leather in the U. S. A, its construction is solid and durable. It's lightweight, comfortable, and, when you flip it open, you have easy access to the extra ammo you need. It's a pocket-sized lifesaver in any situation, perfect for a concealed carry or for enhancing your performance while practicing with your firearm.
However, it may not be for everyone. It's a bit of a niche product, and it might not suit all shooting styles. But for those who have tried it and have found it useful, it's a convenient, reliable way to ensure you're always prepared. The leather construction also adds a tactile touch, making it more than just a mere tool, but a piece of equipment you can feel confident in.

🔗High-Quality 1911 MW Housing for Precision and Performance


https://preview.redd.it/4sih0bwkpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=536a1303e197b6ebdc802b1c9e0d6d89c3a83c4a
Imagine diving into a world of unmatched quality and performance with the Ed Brown 1911 MW Housing. It's like having a trusty sidekick in the form of a superior piece of firearm gear.
Just like a trusted friend, this product has been around for a lifetime, honing its craft through a combination of masterful engineering, relentless passion, and decades of practical experience. From the very feel of it to its precision machining, you can see and touch the care that has gone into each and every detail.
Pick this up, and you'll instantly feel like you're holding something truly extraordinary. It's not just a firearm component; it's a labor of love and expertise, crafted with an attention to detail that borders on obsession.
Of course, like any piece of equipment engineered for such high performance, you might encounter the odd hiccup here and there. But when you're using something as finely-tuned as the Ed Brown 1911 MW Housing, the pros often outweigh the occasional minor inconvenience.
Overall, the Ed Brown 1911 MW Housing is a powerhouse. It's precision crafted, top-quality, and is, in short, exactly what you'd expect from a lifetime of experience and expertise in firearm components. It might not be perfect—nothing ever is—but it's as close as you can get.
So, if you're looking for a piece of equipment that you can truly rely on, with a rich history of precision machining and exceptional craftsmanship behind it, look no further than the Ed Brown 1911 MW Housing. You won't be disappointed, I promise.

🔗Premium 1911 MW Housing Blank


https://preview.redd.it/bfs6a9clpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e96202411bf5264d594e31488f860c3b0063de4a
The Ed Brown 1911 housing is a fine example of the dedication to precision and quality that makes this brand stand out. As a seasoned gun enthusiast, I've come to appreciate the meticulous attention to detail that goes into crafting these firearms. With this product, I especially noticed the superior components and expert machining that made the gun feel smooth and well-balanced. The mag well housing, in particular, added an element of sophistication to my 1911 replica.
While the Ed Brown 1911 housing is an excellent choice for those seeking top-notch performance, there are a few potential downsides to consider. One is the price point, which may be prohibitive for some users. Additionally, while the housing is designed for durability, it's essential to take proper care of it to ensure its longevity. All in all, the Ed Brown 1911 housing is an exceptional product that delivers on promises of quality and craftsmanship.

🔗Universal Single Mag Holder for 1911 Compensators


https://preview.redd.it/6eniljmlpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=466d97c1e19c05d404690c0a3e83aa3c9b520347
Imagine this: after a long day at the range or simply enjoying your time at home, you're done with holstering and retrieving your magazines. You reach for your trusty mag holder - a solid, reliable, and convenient accessory that's been your reliable companion for months. But suddenly, it's gone. You need a new one. Fast. Enter C&G's Universal single mag holder.
This is the kind of mag holder that makes you say, "I never knew I needed this until now! " It's a game-changer, designed to hold your magazines in place, making your life easier and hassle-free. The C&G's Universal single mag holder is made with high-quality materials, ensuring it lasts long, stays sturdy, and remains a reliable tool in your arsenal.
The Universal aspect of this product is a testament to its versatility, as it fits almost all pistols or mags. And let's talk about the fit - it's made for a purpose and designed to ensure that your magazines stay where they should. No more fumbling or worrying about your magazines falling out when you need them most.
But what about the looks? Well, let's just say it's not an eyesore. It manages to blend form and function, seamlessly becoming a part of your daily arsenal. The fact that it's made in America by the best professionals in the field is a cherry on top.
However, like any other product, it does have a small downside. The clip might take some getting used to, as it's a little bigger and wider than what most users would prefer. But it's a small cost to pay for a product that performs so magnificently.
In conclusion, the C&G's Universal single mag holder is a top-notch product that delivers on its promises. It's a reliable and efficient accessory that makes holstering and retrieving your magazines a breeze. It might have a minor issue with the clip size, but overall, it's a must-have for anyone who wants to ensure their magazines stay secure and easily accessible.

🔗ZEV Technologies PRO Mag-well for Gen5 1911 Pistols


https://preview.redd.it/vnyggy3mpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=385ec628406100d8d79a3fe8e071349ab4ac5f59
I recently added the Zev Magwell Pro Compact to my Glock 19 and was thrilled with the results. The one-piece design made installation a breeze, and the sleek low profile kept my gun looking sharp. The flared base made reloading a breeze, and the improved grip was a game-changer for my accuracy.
However, I did need to trim the backstrap a bit to make it fit perfectly, but overall, I'm incredibly happy with this addition to my pistol.

🔗ESD Magwell: Enhancing Glock 17 G5 FDE Reloading Experience


https://preview.redd.it/m7gg4ylmpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2f9469d19554098e580fdf40a72be1c0dfc4b85c
When I first tried the ESD Magwell for Glock 17 G5 FDE, I was intrigued by its sleek design. Every curve and angle on this magwell seemed to have been carefully crafted with a purpose.
The ESD team has put a lot of thought into enhancing a shooter's capabilities using human-centered design. The magwell's symmetrical side cutouts made it incredibly simple to strip magazines, and it effortlessly handled both flush-fitting and extended options.
While it might not be necessary for everyone, the ESD Magwell has certainly made my reloading experience more enjoyable and efficient, proving that sometimes, it's the little things that make a big difference.

🔗Walther PPQ Flared Magwell Aluminum Black Mag Accessory


https://preview.redd.it/en6s1aumpx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=dc8804b4d0e3230d159b40cea84715b28c101103
Imagine you're at the shooting range, ready to take on some targets with your trusty Walther PPQ. You reach for your magazine and find that the flared magwell is a game-changer for your aim. Made of strong aluminum, it's a perfect fit for your Walther PPQ, making magazine swaps a breeze. Plus, this magwell works with both steel and polymer frames.
While it has its perks, there are a couple of things worth mentioning. First, be aware that this magwell doesn't work with PPQ Sub-Compact or PPQ45 models. Second, it may have fitting issues with some extended magazines. But overall, it's a reliable addition to your shooting setup, and you'll appreciate the extra boost it provides to your aim.

🔗Stainless Steel 188S Magwell for 1911 Pistols


https://preview.redd.it/vmrj2d7npx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fbe674e85a70cd8301d7d2eb0c38f59df5242c27
I recently had the chance to try out the Wilson Combat Magazine Well Stainless Steel 1911 Magwell, and I have to say, it's been a game-changer in my shooting experience. The magnetic well is incredibly sturdy, and it's made entirely of stainless steel, ensuring its longevity.
One thing that really stood out to me is the enhanced magazine compatibility the magwell provides. No more fumbling around to get the right fit - this magwell seamlessly fits most magazine designs, making it a breeze to reload.
However, the installation process could be a bit tricky for beginners. It was a learning experience, but with the right tools and a bit of patience, I managed to get it working smoothly.
Overall, I'm really happy with the performance of the Wilson Combat Magazine Well Stainless Steel 1911 Magwell. The improved magazine loading speed and enhanced compatibility make it a worthwhile investment for any serious shooter.

🔗Intelligently Engineered Canik TCS Compact Magwell


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I recently added the Canik TCS Compact Magwell Black to my 1911 handgun, and let me tell you, it has made a significant difference in my daily shooting experience. The sleek, black design not only looks impressive but also provides excellent grip and support while I'm on the range. The ergonomic shape of the extension makes it an absolute game-changer during long shooting sessions, preventing hand fatigue and ensuring a more comfortable hold.
However, the TCS Compact Magwell Black isn't without its drawbacks. I've noticed that the weight distribution of the handgun has shifted slightly, making it a bit heavier overall. Additionally, the black color tends to attract dirt and dust more easily than other materials, requiring more frequent cleaning.
All in all, the Canik TCS Compact Magwell Black is a high-quality extension that enhances both the aesthetics and functionality of my 1911 firearm. Despite the added weight and maintenance considerations, I would definitely recommend it as a worthwhile addition to any 1911 enthusiast's collection.

🔗Si STRIKE80 Magwell for Strike 80 Compact Frame Kit


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In my quest for the perfect magwell, I stumbled upon the Si STRIKE80 Magwell. With a sleek finish in black, it added an aesthetic charm to my Strike 80 compact frame kit. The fit was impeccable, with the magwell allowing my PMAGs to nestle flush against it, making the gun feel more refined.
However, not everything was smooth sailing. On a few occasions, I faced issues with the magwell. Sometimes, I found it hard to seat the base plates of factory mags securely. It seemed like the magwell's design could have been more compatible with the base plates, resulting in a suboptimal user experience.
Despite this, the Si STRIKE80 Magwell had some redeeming qualities. For one, it was a reliable magwell that didn't affect the functionality of the gun. Furthermore, it added a certain cool factor that matched well with the Strike 80's compact frame style.
Overall, this magwell did its job when it came to accommodating the mag. However, the slight inconsistencies in its compatibility with base plates warranted some consideration. If you can overlook this issue, the Si STRIKE80 Magwell might just be the piece missing from your Strike 80 setup.

🔗Stainless Steel 1911 Magwell for Concealment


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I've been using the Wilson Bullet Proof Magwell Full SS for a while now, and I must say that it's quite impressive. This one-piece magwell is crafted from solid billet and CNC-Machined, making it durable and robust. Its stainless steel finish adds a touch of class to any 1911 pistol.
What I really love about this magwell is its large internal opening. It ensures a smooth reloading process, making it perfect for competition or carry. The low profile, radiused outside contour is ideal for both. However, it does require some fitting to blend with pre-beveled frames.
The variety of grip shapes available, along with precisely machined checkering, allows for a perfect match with your pistol. It's also compatible with most fine custom handguns. The flat mainspring model drops into most guns, while round butt models need frame contouring.
Overall, despite the need for some fitting, the Wilson Bullet Proof Magwell Full SS is a top-quality product that enhances the functionality of your 1911. It's definitely a worthwhile investment for those looking to improve their pistol's performance.

🔗Enhanced Magwell for Glock 19/23 Pistols

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Recently I added the Reptilia Black Hole Poly Magwell to my trusty GLOCK - a game-changer for my reloading skills. It fits seamlessly with both Generation 3 and 4 frames, a true all-arounder.
One of the standout features is the use of impact-modified reinforced nylon, and of course, it's made in the USA. It's compatible with 9mm and. 40-caliber GLOCK pistols but does not work with 10 round factory Glock magazines; however, it's perfect with Magpul 10 round mags. This magwell has made a notable difference in my shooting experience and I find myself reaching for it whenever I grab my GLOCK.
It's been a reliable addition to my kit and highly recommended for GLOCK owners.

🔗1911 Magwell For SCT Polymer Glock Gen 3 Frame


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I recently got my hands on the Magwell for SCT19 Polymer Glock Gen 3 Frame. As a gun enthusiast, I was intrigued by this accessory and decided to put it to the test in my daily life. The first thing that caught my eye was its sleek, outdoor green finish. It complemented my Glock perfectly and added a touch of class to my firearm.
Using this Magwell, I noticed a significant improvement in the speed of my reloads. The ergonomic design allowed for a smoother movement, saving me precious seconds in critical situations. However, I did encounter a slight snag in the process – the Magwell wasn't quite compatible with my specific model, causing a minor inconvenience.
Overall, the Magwell for SCT19 Polymer Glock Gen 3 Frame proved to be a reliable addition to my firearm. The speedy reloads it provided and the stylish finish it came with made it a worthwhile investment. But, I would urge fellow Glock users to double-check the compatibility before making a purchase to avoid any potential issues.

🔗Zev Technologies PRO Mag-well for 1911 - Enhance Shooting Consistency and Speed


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Zev Magwell Pro has been a game-changer for me in my daily gun training. I love the flared, slightly wider design which aids in a smoother, faster magazine insertion. The lightweight aluminum construction feels sturdy and reliable, yet doesn't add any bulk to the Glock's balance.
Installation was straightforward, even for a gun novice like me. The lack of set screws for a flush fit on the backstrap is a minor drawback, but it's not a deal-breaker. The improved reload speed and additional comfort it provides make it worth the small inconvenience. I highly recommend the Zev Magwell Pro to anyone looking to elevate their Glock's performance.

Buyer's Guide

When it comes to optimizing your 1911 handgun, there are a few key features you should be on the lookout for in a magwell. The magwell, or magazine well, is a modification that increases the speed at which you can reload your gun. It also makes it easier to grip and insert the magazine, crucial in high-pressure situations. In this buyer's guide, we will discuss important considerations and general advice when purchasing a 1911 magwell.

Importance of Material


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The magwell is often made from lightweight materials such as aluminum or carbon fiber, but it can also be made from steel. While steel may be more durable, it is heavier and could potentially slow down your draw. Consider the weight and the balance of your handgun when choosing the material for your magwell.

Size and Shape

One of the primary benefits of a magwell is the ease of magazine insertion and retrieval. Therefore, the size and shape of the magwell will impact its efficiency. Some magwells are designed to be larger, accommodating longer magazines or allowing for a quicker reload. Ensure that the magwell you're considering complements the height of your magazine and matches your personal preferred shape for grip comfort.

Choke Ports

Choke ports or adjustable choke tubes are sometimes integrated with magwells as part of a multi-functional kit. Choke ports provide the ability to alter the angle and tightness of your shotgun barrel, which can be advantageous for various shooting scenarios. Consider if you want these additional features or if you prefer a magwell strictly for the purpose of speeding up your reload time.

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Integration

Avoid magwells that require extensive modifications or replacement of existing parts of your handgun to mount. The magwell should ideally be compatible with most standard 1911 frames and be easy to install. Check the manufacturer's specifications or consult user guides to ensure compatibility.

Price

There are various price points for 1911 magwells, reflecting differences in materials, functionality, and design. Consider your budget and ensure that the magwell you choose aligns with your expectations and requirements.

Reviews and Ratings


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As with any purchased, it's always a good idea to read reviews and gather insights on the quality of a 1911 magwell before making your decision. Reviews from gun enthusiasts and experts can provide valuable feedback on the durability, efficiency, and overall performance of the magwell.

Final Thoughts

A well-designed 1911 magwell can significantly improve the performance and efficiency of your handgun, especially in high-pressure or competitive shooting scenarios. When selecting a magwell, bear in mind the material, size and shape, integration, price, and reviews. With the right magwell, you can elevate your handgun to an optimal level for competitive performance or personal defense. Happy shooting!

FAQ


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What is a 1911 Magwell?

A 1911 magwell is a type of aftermarket accessory designed to enhance the performance and functionality of the 1911 handgun. It is typically installed in place of the standard grip panel or attached to the gun's frame, providing an extended magazine well to improve the user's grip and facilitate faster reloads.

What are the benefits of using a 1911 Magwell?

  • Easier and quicker magazine changes
  • Better grip and control
  • Improved trigger reach
  • Increased accuracy and precision

What types of materials are 1911 Magwells made of?

1911 magwells can be made from various materials such as aluminum, steel, polymer, or a combination of these. The choice of material depends on the user's preferences, budget, and desired durability or weight reduction.

How do I install a 1911 Magwell?

Installing a 1911 magwell typically requires removing the existing grip panel or frame section, cleaning the surface, and applying adhesive or mechanical fasteners to secure the magwell in place. It is recommended to follow the manufacturer's installation instructions carefully to ensure proper fit and function.

Are there any compatibility issues with 1911 Magwells?

Some 1911 magwells may have compatibility issues with certain handguns, particularly those with modified frames or aftermarket components. It is essential to verify compatibility with the specific firearm before purchasing a magwell to avoid any potential fitting issues.

What are the differences between 1911 Magwells from various manufacturers?

  • Durability and construction materials
  • Aesthetic design and finish
  • Price point and value for money
  • Additional features or customization options

How do I maintain and clean my 1911 Magwell?

To maintain and clean your 1911 magwell, simply wipe it down with a soft cloth to remove any dirt or debris. If there is any adhesive residue left from installation, use a mild solvent to remove it. Avoid using abrasive cleaners or scrubbers, which may damage the finish or surface.
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submitted by GhoulGriin to u/GhoulGriin [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 12:04 research-account2424 am i going to have a heart attack?

this is my first reddit post ever so sorry if i’m doing this wrong. i only use this app to find people with similar problems, anyway.
i’m a 19 (almost 20) y/o F, i weigh 106 and im 5’1.
i like to start off by saying i have anxiety (mainly health anxiety) and tachycardia (due to anxiety probably) so this could just be a misunderstanding.
but as of now i feel bloated, like a balloon. i feel like i need to burp but i cant. i feel like i cant take a full proper breath. my middle/upper back hurts, (my spine is slightly curved to the right so maybe thats why, but i think thats lower) under my left breast feels uncomfortable and my left arm near my armpit feels odd (basically lots of slight pressure) i have a weird sensation in my left arm and hand, kind of like a numbness but not at the same time. the left side of my face (cheek/jaw and ear area) feels weird and my throat feels like there’s a lot of mucus clogging it. everytime i lay down after awhile i feel like i get out of breath and my heart spikes up. i have a cheap heart watch on but it said it went up to about 113, (i constantly check my heart rate and blood oxygen.) as of now its in the mid 80s, but its going up still. anyway, i’ve been feeling very imbalanced lately, like the floor is moving, not standing on solid d ground. i’ve been feeling dizzy and very fake, like derealization. and it’s super scary considering i feel like i’m not in my head / body most of the time. maybe this is because my iron is mildly low (55) and i’ve been staying up until 7am and waking up at 4pm and haven’t been eating right, constantly have stomach pain. but in my mind all this stress, bad sleeping habits and and eating habits could lead to a heart attack. my episodes usually start at night when i want to go to sleep. it’s scary. i always have a feeling that once i fall asleep i wont wake up which keeps me up at night. i usually fall asleep once my boyfriend wakes up because i like the feeling of being monitored i guess, its comforting to know that someone is there just in case.
but are these signs of a possible cardiac arrest or heart attack or is it just anxiety ? i’m trying to avoid going to the ER since i went 11 times JUST in may and had multiple CT scans and x-rays done and everything seems to be fine (except my $2k hospital bill) my mom always told me growing up that stress can kill you and that information stresses me out more every time i’m stressed and lately i’ve been constantly stressed.
submitted by research-account2424 to Anxiety [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 11:59 YukiteruAmano92 There Will Be Scritches Pt.180

Previous Interlewd XLI Next First

---Sample---

---Fnurfar’s perspective---
---2710 Terran Calenda3 years BF---
All six of my paws desperately scramble against the slick pavement of the Prosperity back alley as I flee for my life!
Pursuing me… is a monster!
His species aren’t meant to be sprinters!
They said if it came to a chase, I just needed to quickly get out of his line of sight and keep going and he’d not be able to keep up!
I skid around a corner and steal a glance behind me, seeing two furious eyes moving towards me so fast that they seem to leave streaks of emerald green behind them as afterimages!
The Fury is so close on my tail that he’s almost certain to catch me now!
It would be laughable how much my… ‘employers’ had underestimated him if it weren’t so terrifying!
Youve got a Terran with you! There should be no issue!’
Yes, that idiot mercenary they hired almost had me going with his smug, arrogant proclamation that ‘Big=slow! Slow=dead!’ as he idly showed off his little knife tricks!
My confidence lasted up until the very moment I saw the one we were supposed to rob!
[20cm] taller than the skinny mercenary and looking like he could easily weigh twice as much, the man was a Hunt damned beast compared to the one who was meant to protect me from him!
I think Flynn reassessed his cocksure attitude as well because, rather than waiting for me to have an opening like we agreed in the [fucking] plan, he just drew a knife and tried to stab the monster to death!
An extremely poorly calculated risk!
There was no competition!
This juggernaut dealt with Flynn as easily as Flynn could have dealt with me!
It took him a matter of seconds to dispatch my accomplice but that was a matter of seconds where he was distracted enough that I was able to snag what we had been after… not that it makes any difference now!
Just as I hear thundering footfalls coming up on my left, powerful fingers impact the space between the bottom of my neck and the top of my top shoulderblades.
I’m slammed into the ground… but not killed
I can feel the power contained in the iron grip around my neck…
I know that decapitating me would be as simple as deciding to close his fingers but, as I wait for death to come, it doesnt
Instead, the hand slides up my shoulders, gathering the loose skin and lifting me up like a kit in her parent’s mouth…
The first thing I’m able to see is the monster’s flat, booted feet, followed by a pair of long thick legs, then a chest and left arm covered in a loose fitting, buttoned shirt, patterned with vertical and horizontal lines.
The red fabric of his top disguises the bloodstain from the wound he got from Flynn, just below his shoulder. However, the nauseatingly metallic smell of it absolutely fills my nostrils!
The final thing to be revealed, as my feet hang more than [a metre] from the ground, is a face… the scarred skin a pale beige, the white, calcite teeth bared in a furious grimace, copper coloured eyebrows tilted downward in the middle over a nose, wrinkled with anger, and emerald eyes, burning with rage!
His shoulders rise and fall, in time with panted breaths he sucks in and out through his gritted teeth, putting me less in mind of a person (or even an animal) catching their breath after exertion and more in mind of some hulking piece of machinery from the Steam Age venting its pressure!
The Terran extends his pallid skinned, long fingered, furless, pentadactyl left hand to me, stained with the ferrous blood that’s run down his sleeve, and growls “Sample!”
No…” I breathe, terrified.
GIRL! I AINT fuckin’ PLAYIN’ with you!” he snarls, curling all but his index finger and jabbing it towards my snout “You’re gonna. GIVE. BACK. what you. FUCKIN’. STOLE!”
Youcan take itfrom my corpse…” I defy, clutching my exhausted, trembling pawhands to the front of my jumpsuit.
Effortlessly, his free hand comes forward, batting my four aside, before pinching the top of the stasis vial and pulling it free, with there being absolutely nothing I can do to stop him!
He holds up the tube, in which is visible a small plant with a rosette of frilly black leaves and through which can be seen a frozen impression of the room it was in when it was stasised, demanding “You’re really willin’ to die for this!? For corporate espionage?!… Why the fuck’s this matter to you like that?!?!?!”
“I dont careabout the plantat all…” I answer, defeated.
His face twists in a sneer as he asks “Then why tell me I had to pry it from your cold. dead. hands!?”
Becauseif I come backemptyhandedtheyre going totorture my husbandand sonand make me watch!… If I dontcome backat all… maybe theyll let them go!” I pant in answer.
His face falls blank… but I can tell that is not because he’s no longer angry!
Instead, his redoubled rage has gone from white hot to ice cold as he leans in and demands “Whosthey’?”
---2715 Terran Calenda2 years AF---
One!?” demands the sceptical, lutrine, Nvar man, one of six listening to my story for the first time (along with the two friends who’ve heard it before), holding up a webbed pawhand and extending a single finger “You’re trying to tell us that one Terran dismantled the entire Giluspri Sisters’ Syndicate, overnight!?… Simply because you told him a sob story about them holding your family hostage!?”
“I did say you wouldn’t believe me(!)” I smirk, lifting my drink to take a sip.
“You’re damn right I don’t believe you!!!” he sneers “It might have been a little more believable if you’d made it a team of a dozen or so Terrans that were guarding this thing but one!?… There’s no way it took a single individual a single night to root out and entirely destroy an enterprise that Prosperity’s government had been hunting for nearly [2 decades], even if that individual was a Terran!”
I place my drink down on the table and turn the palms of all four pawhands to the ceiling as I say “Believe me or dont… that’s exactly how it happened!”
“Hmmm… Don’t know ’bout ‘exactly’…!” comes a familiar voice from behind my head, in the next booth over.
I freeze and straighten my back.
The friends and audience in my booth are looking past me, curiously, but, from their faces, it doesn’t look like they can see anything.
I stand and slide out through the gap between the table and Nafnarl’s footpaws.
I turn right and am immediately able to see that the booth next to us is occupied by a mixture of Terrans and some much smaller humanoids with green skin.
I keep going, rounding the partition to reveal…
“By the Hunt! Victor?!” I exclaim, seeing the man sat with his back almost exactly to where I was sitting, next to another tall, slim humanoid with blue skin and four arms.
His copper hair is much longer, his face isn’t as scarred and isn’t wearing the disgusted sneer that characterised so much of the time he and I spent together but… there’s no mistaking it!
The man turns his head, smiling, before standing up to nearly twice my height and extending a palm to ruffle the fur between my ears, saying “How’s it goin’, Foxy? You look a lot better ’an you did last time I saw you at least(!)” gesturing with his other hand up and down my less skinny and less visibly scarred body.
“Never mind that, Victor! What are you doing here?! You didn’t tell me you were coming back to Prosperity!”
He smirks “Yeah, sorry Foxy… It’s a loose lips sink ships kinda deal… Just thought I’d show my friends here the bar you brought me to celebrate after everythin’ was done that time… Didn’t think I’d actually run into you here!”
I stare up at the man, agog, for a few moments before reaching up with both my left hands and closing them around his wrist.
He allows me to drag him back to the head of my table.
“Nafnarl! Gfurnaf! This is him! This is the one I’ve been telling you about for the last [5 years]!” I say to my two Graufna friends before turning to the rest of the table to declare “Hes the man who took down the Giluspris! He’s Victor ‘Cuddles’ Taylor!”
With mirthful bemusement, the Terran raises his left palm to the table to smile “Y’alright guys!” before his eyes scan the faces and his expression goes concerned. He turns to me and asks “Your hubby alright, Foxy?”
I bare my teeth (I hope friendlily) and answer “Fnarnulf’s fine, Victor!… Fuffarn too! This is just a girl’s night…” gesturing at my two friends “…or… it was(!)” gesturing over the four men and two women, of four different species, who joined us to hear my story.
“What did you mean by it not being ‘exactly’ right?” queries Lunvo, the same sceptical Nvar who voiced disbelief before, still looking sceptical (not that I can blame him) but at least impressed by the fact that the ‘con’ has an (imposing looking) Terran stooge now(!)
Weeeeell…” Victor frowns down at me, mirthfully “…the way she described me dodgin’ that knife attack, she made me sound almost psychic(!)… In reality, she and this guy werent as smooth as she seems to think(!) The fact that I even got nicked by someone I was payin’ as much attention to as that is a bad reflection on my reaction time!… Also, she kinda made it sound like I went into their headquarters with a gun in one hand and a lit plasmasword in the other(!) As I recall, I gave ’em all a chance to surrender and come quietly and it were only after they, shall we say, indicated a lack of interest in that option that my weapons first cleared leather!… Oh! And what was with all that comparin’ the way I pant to ventin’ steam engines, Foxy(?!)”
But…” starts Muan, a nervous tolypeutine Wne woman beside her Wno husband, Kmuw “…you don’t deny it was you and you alone who brought down the Giluspris?… Without help?”
The pale skin of the Terran’s flat face performs a complicated scrunch as he considers the question before answering “Don’t know ’bout ‘without help’… I had Foxy here for showin’ me the way, after I’d done a lotta convincin’… and, once I’d taken care of ’em, local law enforcers came to take the survivors away… Aaaaand… I probably didnt actually manage to kill or capture every last one of ’em… just gutted its power structure enough that the rats fled the sinkin’ ship(!)”
“Why are you calling her ‘Foxy’?” asks Lunvo, four eyes narrowed in suspicion “‘Fnurfar’ is the name she gave us!”
The large man shrugs his shoulders “I didn’t get her name until we came here to celebrate… she didn’t trust me to give it… Had to call her somethin’, so I called her Foxy.”
“Hmmm…” responds Lunvo “…I’m not buying it…”
Victor raises an eyebrow “You ain’t buyin’ me givin’ her a nickname(!?)”
“I don’t believe any of it! The whole story reeks of the fanciful!”
I bare my teeth and slam my paws on the table before snarling “I don’t care if you question my honesty, Lunvo, but this man saved my husband’s life, my son’s life, the lives of dozens of others, freed me from effective slavery and freed this planet from its largest criminal syndicate! I will not have you questioning his integrity!”
Lunvo cowers away from me, despite the table separating us.
I feel a large, strong hand on my shoulder.
I turn to see a smiling face.
Eeeeasy there, Foxy… ’Preciate the defence but there aint no need to get heated over it!… ’Specially not when there’s a really easy way to sort this out…” he looks up at Lunvo and asks “Lunvo, was it? Could I ask you to look up the front page of the Prosperity Chronicle from the 3rd of September, 2710?… I think you’ll see a picture of me shakin’ hands with your governor at the time…”
---
Previous Interlewd XLI Next First
Discord
Dramatis Personae
submitted by YukiteruAmano92 to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 11:53 Controversational_9 Lost love

I guess I figured once I had this pen in my hand I’d know what it is I wanted to say. Because I know it’s there. Something heavy. But all I can tell you is it’s a feeling. It’s crazy how sometimes we don’t know how to place what we feel inside ourselves… or why. It’s not until someone mentions or points it out and identifies it for us that we understand. Maybe I just have a heavy heart. It just feels… misplaced. The feelings to big for my chest. It presses against my rib cage and that hurts. I can’t take a breathe without the fear that it might be my last. My heart feels like it might just stop beating… out of exhaustion… out of being ripped in half. Sometimes it makes me nauseous and I have to stay real still so I don’t get sick. But I get sick anyway. I’m not quite sure when it will pass, but right now I’m sure I’ll be this way forever. I’m not sure how to even begin to put one foot in front of the other much less, where I’m walking to. I doubt I will be ready to move on anytime soon. I have no idea how that part came so easily for you. And while I’m happy your not as heartbroken as I seem to be, thinking you have opened your heart to someone new so soon after losing me hurts even more. Maybe even the most. Damn. It’s as if someone is pouring acid in my chest. It makes me dizzy. Like the world is spinning in both directions…. I think I might get sick again. Wish I knew how to just make it stop…only for a moment. Long enough to catch my breathe. To catch you. But it’s only just begun so I just hang on…. The worst part is I can never tell you any of this. You’re not around for me to run to anymore. For you to comfort me and tell me to stop crying. That you love me and whoa whoa whoa heeeyyy breathe baby…..that it’s gonna be ok. I can’t bury my face in your chest and tell you I’m sorry……that I love you and I just need you to understand that IM NOT GOOD AT THIS…. That it’s all so new and I’m afraid…that I’m trying to figure out how to find my way in the dark with my eyes closed…… I never meant to make you not love me anymore. That now nothing even seems worth it. That all I needed was you. That I was giving it everything I had but hey, I always gotta fuck something up in the process. That I would give ANYTHING to go back and have it be anything else but YOU. That I can’t be ok unless I have YOU………. But it was you…… this time… I lost you. So now what? Does life really keep showing up after THAT? Did the sun and the moon and the stars not just see what happened?? How can they keep going when MY WHOLE WORLD just stopped…. And to look up and see that you keep going too….any life left inside me has lost its meaning. Every word…..every whispered promise…. Ripped away from me like I had stolen it….. like I never had any right to touch it in the first place. So here I am. Heavy heart. Shallow breathes. A world spinning in both directions. You….gone. And I’m alone in a foreign place with no idea how to move from this point. Which direction to go. Or where I’m even supposed to get to. So….. I tried to write you. Tried to see if maybe it was just my imagination or if I really lost the one thing that gave me a reason to believe maybe I do have wings…… maybe I really can fly…. But you took all the air with you, and I never had wings did I? If I did I couldn’t figure out how to spread them and let them carry me back to you. See, you’re the blood in my veins…. And I’m just an old song you’ve forgotten the lyrics to. But I hope you still hear me in your head sometimes..
submitted by Controversational_9 to LovelyLetters [link] [comments]


2024.06.01 11:39 Significant-Tower146 Best 1911 Holsters

Best 1911 Holsters

https://preview.redd.it/i16fjd85kx3d1.jpg?width=720&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=0b485b837f53340d72a905a6a19d5868f0276649
Looking for a new holster? You've come to the right place! In this comprehensive article, we've gathered the finest 1911 holsters currently available on the market. From state-of-the-art design to exceptional craftsmanship, each holster on our list is sure to impress and suit your needs perfectly.
No matter if you're an experienced gun enthusiast or a first-time buyer, we've got you covered. Our carefully curated selection is designed to showcase a diverse range of options, all perfect for your 1911 firearm. Get ready to find your ideal holster and enhance your shooting experience like never before!

The Top 18 Best 1911 Holsters

  1. Comfortable 1911 Inside Waistband Holster for Threaded Barrels - Upgrade your concealed carry with C&G's Covert IWB holster, offering superior comfort, solid locking retention, and a versatile design made in America by veterans and law enforcement.
  2. Carry Comfortably with Versacarry's Quality 1911 Holster - Embrace confident, safe concealment with Versacarry's premium water buffalo leather Compound Series OWB Holster, designed for right-handed use and extra rigidity to protect your 1911.
  3. Comfortable Chest-Mounted 1911 Holster for Maximum Support - The Crossbreed Chest Rig Holster for 1911 is a well-designed, versatile, and comfy choice for pistols enthusiasts, providing secure retention and strap fit while breathing easy.
  4. Eco Leather Concealed Carry Holster for 1911 Guns - Stay secure and comfortable with the Houston Eco Leather Concealed Carry Soft Material IWB Gun Holster with Mag Pouch, featuring Inside The Waistband design and a soft suede lining for maximum gun protection.
  5. Sig Sauer 1911 ProTuck Holster - Adjustable, Lightweight IWB Concealment - The ProTuck IWB Holster from Vedder Holsters offers an advanced, form-fitted design for superior concealment and durability, perfectly catering to your Sig Sauer 1911 w/out Rail 3.3" with adjustable retention, ride height, and cant.
  6. Bravo Concealment Torsion 1911 IWB Holster with Adjustable Retention - Experience ultimate concealment with the Bravo Concealment Torsion 1911 IWB Holster, boasting BCA's patented Torsion technology, adjustable retention, and a secure, comfortable fit for your 1911 gun.
  7. Premium 1911 Holster for Right Hand Configuration - Experience ultimate carry comfort with Desantis Gunhide's Mini Slide Belt Holster for 1911, right-hand, featuring adjustable tension and premium saddle leather.
  8. Vintage 1911 Holster: Expertly Crafted for Maximum Security and Comfort - Cannon TX-BH3 Vintage Edition: A luxurious, full-grain leather holster with a comfortable and secure fit for your full-size 1911 handguns, perfect for confident carrying wherever you go.
  9. Quality 1911 Optic Ready Leather Holster for Optic and Red Dot Accessories - Experience premium quality and added functionality with the 1791 Optic Ready 1911 Belt Holster BH1 in Signature Brown, designed for optic-equipped firearms and offering a multi-fit solution with reinforced stitching.
  10. Comfortable 1911 Right-Hand Tan Holster - Experience secure gun retention with Desantis Cozy Partner 1911 Holster, featuring a tension device, precise molding, and adjustable memory band, available in tan or black leather.
  11. Comfortable and Adjustable 1911 Holsters for Right-Hand Use - Experience ultimate comfort and convenience with the BlackPoint Outback Chest System - a sleek, lightweight, and fully adjustable chest carry solution for your 1911 holster.
  12. Cozy Partner Inside-the-Pants Holster for 1911 Government Model - Experience ultimate handgun retention and comfort with the DeSantis Cozy Partner Holster, featuring a tension device, precise molding, and a memory band for one-handed re-holstering.
  13. Reliable 1911 Springfield 5" (rail) Concealed Carry Holster - Securely carry your 1911 Springfield 5" rail in style with this lightweight, reliable OWB concealed carry holster, perfect for everyday protection.
  14. Versacarry Element Distressed Brown Leather Holster for 1911 Style Guns with Spare Mag Pocket and Easy Clips - Versacarry Element Holster IWB RH is the perfect choice for 1911 style gun owners, providing superior protection, spare magazine storage, and adjustable cant with easy on/off clips while maintaining discreet comfort.
  15. Premium Leather 1911 Right-Hand Holster for Concealed Carry - Experience ultimate concealment and comfort with the Desantis Sof-Tuck 1911 Right Hand Tan Holster, featuring adjustable cant, multiple carry positions, and premium materials.
  16. Kydex Mini Ambidextrous 1911 Holster - Experience premium comfort and security with the Desantis Slim-Tuk 1911 Holster, featuring precision-molded Kydex, unlimited mounting options, and adjustable tension for an ideal fit.
  17. Custom 1911 Tactical Kydex Holster for Light-Bearing Needs - C&G Holsters OWB TACTICAL Kydex Holster offers secure and versatile carry, perfect for 1911 guns with light-bearing needs in any situation, backed by exceptional craftsmanship and quality.
  18. Precision Competitive Holster for 1911 4.25'' - Kydex, Aluminum, Adjustable - The Pro Ball Joint Competition Holster transforms your 1911 4.25'' into a precision and performance-driven shooting tool, with adjustable ride height, aluminum ball joint, Kydex shell, and optic compatibility for an unmatched competitive edge.
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Reviews

🔗Comfortable 1911 Inside Waistband Holster for Threaded Barrels


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C&G's Covert IWB holster quickly became a staple in my daily life. The first thing that caught my eye was the solid feel of the Kydex material. It's a bit heavier than some other holsters I've tried, but this adds to the confidence that my firearm is securely held in place. The open bottom design is a game-changer - it fits threaded barrels and compensators like a glove, and offers compatibility with most RMRed Dots on the market. I particularly appreciate the customization options available for fit and attachment, which make it a perfect match for my carry needs.
The slight discomfort I've experienced while wearing the Covert IWB holster is the only downside I've noticed. After wearing it for a few hours, I feel a bit of pressure on my hip. It's not unbearable, but it is worth mentioning. Overall, the positives far outweigh the negatives, and I highly recommend this holster to anyone in the market for an IWB 1911 holster.

🔗Carry Comfortably with Versacarry's Quality 1911 Holster


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Last week, I had an interesting experience with the Versacarry Compound holster. I was at the range, trying to practice with my 1911, when I realized my holster wasn't the greatest for my needs. So, I swapped it for this one, and let me tell you - it's been a game changer.
First off, the material is premium water buffalo leather. It's softer than most plastic holsters but holds up better against wear and tear. Plus, it has a raised protective backing and metal inlay for extra rigidity. It's like having a little bodyguard for your gun.
I also appreciate the fit. This right-handed holster fits my 1911 perfectly, and it's comfortable to wear. It hugs my waist just right, without digging into my side. Now, practicing at the range is a breeze, as I can focus on my aim, instead of fidgeting with my holster.
The stitching is industrial-grade bonded nylon thread, so you know it's made to last. But don't just take my word for it - Versacarry even made sure it's made in the USA.
However, there are a few things I'd like to point out. The holster is only compatible with certain handguns, and I had to return my first one because it didn't fit my pistol correctly. Also, if you're using it for open carry, it might be a bit too conspicuous for my liking. Lastly, there were a couple of minor issues with the holster's design, but it didn't affect the overall experience.
In conclusion, the Versacarry Compound holster has become my daily sidekick at the range. Its quality, comfort, and ease of use make it a versatile and reliable partner for my 1911. And with a rating of 3.9, it seems other users have also had similar experiences.

🔗Comfortable Chest-Mounted 1911 Holster for Maximum Support


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I recently had the chance to try out the Crossbreed Chest Rig Holster for my 1911-Founders, and let me tell you, it's a breath of fresh air when it comes to holding on to heavier pistols. The holster's thick leather backer provides excellent support, while the soft suede lining ensures that it's always comfy against the body.
What really sets this holster apart is the multiple points of retention adjustment. You can really make it work for you, thanks to the three different straps. The adjustability makes it a perfect fit, no matter how your body is built.
While some might argue that the holster might be a bit too noticeable for everyday carry, I've been genuinely impressed with its performance and versatility. It's definitely worth considering when you're looking for a reliable chest rig for your firearm.

🔗Eco Leather Concealed Carry Holster for 1911 Guns


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I recently had the chance to try out the IWB Gun Holster with Mag Pouch by Houston. This concealed carry holster is made with eco-leather, making it a great choice for those who value sustainability. The holster is designed with comfort in mind, fitting around your waist with ease. It also features a soft suede lining for extra protection for your gun.
One of the best parts of this holster is the sturdy metal clip that ensures your gun stays secure throughout the day. I found it to be a reliable choice when I needed to be on the move. However, on hot summer days, the holster can get a bit sweaty, so it might not be the best choice for intense outdoor activities.
Overall, the IWB Gun Holster with Mag Pouch by Houston is a solid choice for anyone looking for a comfortable and reliable concealed carry option. The eco-leather and soft suede lining provide excellent features for keeping your gun safe, while the metal clip ensures it remains secure throughout the day. However, be mindful of the potential for sweat build-up in hot weather.

🔗Sig Sauer 1911 ProTuck Holster - Adjustable, Lightweight IWB Concealment


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The Vedder Holsters ProTuck for a Sig Sauer 1911 without rail offers an exceptional inside the waistband (IWB) experience, providing superior concealment and comfort in one package. The hybrid holster is meticulously crafted from premium leather and form-fitted Kydex, creating a secure and personalized fit for your firearm. Its natural hugging of your body and adjustable retention make it a standout option.
However, I found the weight distribution to be slightly top-heavy, which may require some adjustments. The limited number of color options could also be a drawback for those seeking a more unique look. Nonetheless, the holster's lightweight design, durability, and lifetime guarantee are all noteworthy features that make this a top contender in the market.

🔗Bravo Concealment Torsion 1911 IWB Holster with Adjustable Retention


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I recently became a fan of the Bravo Concealment Adaptive IWB concealed carry holster for my trusty 1911. This holster has been a game-changer in my daily carry routine, thanks to its adjustable retention, which feels secure yet accessible at the same time.
The polymer injection mold is absolutely impressive—it ensures a perfect fit for my 1911 without adding any unnecessary bulk. The torsion technology also helps conceal the gun by twisting it slightly inward, making it effortlessly blend with my wardrobe.
One of my favorite features of this holster is the comfortable fit; it feels like a second skin without any discomfort or irritation. Plus, the holster retains its shape for smooth one-handed re-holstering. The tuckable clip is another added convenience, allowing me to effortlessly tuck it under my clothing when needed.
However, there's one aspect I wish could've been improved—the audible clicking sound when re-holstering. It's a bit too loud for my liking, especially if I'm in quieter surroundings. Overall, I'm satisfied with the performance of the Bravo Concealment IWB holster for my 1911. It's a reliable and comfortable option for everyday concealed carry.

🔗Premium 1911 Holster for Right Hand Configuration


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While I was out on a shooting range, I decided to try out the Desantis Gunhide Mini Slide Belt Holster for my 1911 pistol. First off, the premium saddle leather and attention to detail were striking. The exposed muzzle design gave it a tight fit, perfect for my gun. I also loved the adjustable-tension device, allowing me to customize the holster's hold.
The only issue I encountered was that the belt slots were a tad too wide for my taste. However, the black and tan unlined leather options added a nice touch. Overall, I found the holster to be a great choice for anyone looking for a well-fitted, comfortable, and stylish companion for their 1911 pistol.

🔗Vintage 1911 Holster: Expertly Crafted for Maximum Security and Comfort


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I recently got my hands on the Texas 1836 Cannon Vintage Edition Open Top OWB Holster. It's a beauty to behold, with its premium full-grain leather design that simply exudes luxury. The handcrafted attention to detail is obvious, making it a perfect fit for my 1911. The double-stitching adds an extra layer of security, and the smooth interior makes for a speedy draw whenever I need it.
While I absolutely love the holster's aesthetics and comfort, I've noticed that it might not be the most versatile option. It's specifically designed for full-size 1911s with no attachments, which means those looking for a more universal option might want to look elsewhere. Nevertheless, for someone looking for a sleek and sturdy holster that's an extension of their style, the Texas 1836 Cannon Vintage Edition is definitely worth considering.

🔗Quality 1911 Optic Ready Leather Holster for Optic and Red Dot Accessories


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The 1791 Optic Ready 1911 Belt Holster BH1 in Signature Brown is a versatile and reliable choice for those seeking a high-quality belt holster. Crafted using premium 100% Certified American Heavy Native Steerhide leather, this holster exudes durability and comfort.
Its multi-fit design and open top make it an easy choice for your preferred carry-style, accommodating a wide range of firearms. However, the added functionality of the optic cut and the inclusion of a sweat guard or shield give it a slight edge in terms of usability.
The reinforced stitching ensures that the holster remains secure and long-lasting. Despite these pros, the holster may not be the most ideal choice for those looking for a more minimalist or lightweight design.
Overall, the 1791 Optic Ready 1911 Belt Holster BH1 is a solid option for anyone seeking a reliable and feature-rich belt holster.

🔗Comfortable 1911 Right-Hand Tan Holster


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Desantis Cozy Partner 1911 Tan Holster impressed me in many ways. I love its tension mechanism for handgun retention, ensuring that my firearm stays secure in place. However, the memory band, which helps maintain the holster's shape for easy re-holstering, could be improved.
The 1 1/2" split belt loop works well, but I wish it was removable or adjustable for better compatibility with my belt. Another downside is that some models, unfortunately, lack this crucial feature. Overall, as a right-handed firearm enthusiast, this holster has proved useful and practical, but a little more flexibility could enhance my overall experience.

🔗Comfortable and Adjustable 1911 Holsters for Right-Hand Use


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As someone who's always on the lookout for innovative gear to make my outdoor activities more efficient, I recently had the chance to try out the Blackpoint Outback Chest System. This chest holster is an excellent alternative to traditional belt and off-body carry when hiking, skiing, or engaging in other activities where your hands are occupied.
The Outback Chest System is crafted with a sleek design and lightweight materials, which makes it comfortable to wear and carry for long periods. The holster is securely attached to a well-designed, adjustable harness system that balances strength and ease of use.
One of the standout features of this chest system is its versatile harness design. The Dynamic Bungee Strap enables greater flexibility for movement, while the Static Buckle Strap ensures a snug and stable fit. The Shoulder Strap allows for easy height adjustments, and the adjustable retention features on the holster ensure a perfect fit for a user's gun.
While I'm not a fan of bulky, cumbersome accessories, the Outback Chest System is not heavy or unwieldy. The balance between comfort and security is well executed in this product. However, for those who prefer a more minimalist approach, it might be worth looking into other options.
In conclusion, the Blackpoint Outback Chest System is a smart and practical choice for gun enthusiasts who need a reliable chest carry option for various outdoor activities. Although not everyone may find it their perfect fit, it deserves kudos for offering an effective solution to the inherent challenges of traditional belt and off-body carry methods.

🔗Cozy Partner Inside-the-Pants Holster for 1911 Government Model


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I recently got my hands on the Desantis Cozy Partner Holster for my trusty Colt Gov Model 1911. Intrigued by its unique design, I eagerly put it to use. The first thing that caught my attention was the tension device. It provided a perfect fit for my handgun, securing it in place like a glove, and I didn't even have to struggle with adjusting the holster.
The memory band that retains the shape of the holster was another great feature. It made re-holstering my handgun super easy and one-handed, which came in handy when I was on the move. The 1 1/2" split belt loop was a convenient addition, ensuring the holster stayed securely in place.
However, there were a couple of hiccups during my experience. The lack of an adjustable belt loop was a bit of a bummer, as it would have been perfect for those of us with smaller belts. Also, the memory band and split belt loop were only available on some models, not all.
Overall, the Desantis Cozy Partner Holster impressed me with its comfortable design, secure fit, and convenient features, despite a few minor drawbacks. If you're looking for a holster that provides both style and function, this might just be the right pick.

🔗Reliable 1911 Springfield 5" (rail) Concealed Carry Holster


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As someone who has been a firearms enthusiast for years, I was intrigued to try out the 1911 Springfield 5" (Rail) Holster for concealed carry. The first thing that struck me was its lightweight construction, which made it feel incredibly comfortable to wear throughout the day. This holster also proved to be reliable, as it securely held my Springfield 5" in place, even during strenuous activities.
One of the most notable features of this holster is its 1.50" belt loops, which provide a snug fit and stability. However, it did take a bit of time to get the holster to sit just right on my belt, which was a minor inconvenience. All in all, for those seeking a lightweight, reliable, and secure option for concealed carry, the 1911 Springfield 5" (Rail) Holster is a great choice.

🔗Versacarry Element Distressed Brown Leather Holster for 1911 Style Guns with Spare Mag Pocket and Easy Clips


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As a reviewer who's tried the Versacarry Element Holster for myself, I can confidently say it's a comfortable and versatile choice for anyone carrying 1911-style guns. The high-quality distressed brown leather not only looks great but also offers excellent protection, allowing me to conceal carry with peace of mind.
The biggest highlight in this holster for me was the adjustable cant and easy-on/off clips. I appreciate that I can customize the holster's angle to suit my carry preferences, which makes my daily carry more ergonomic and comfortable. Additionally, the quick-release clips make it a breeze to access my firearm when needed.
However, there are a couple of downsides that I've noticed during my use. First, the spare magazine storage compartment is quite snug, which can make it difficult to load or unload extra magazines. And second, while the raised protective backing helps shield my skin from cold contact, the holster does tend to slip a bit, especially when I'm moving around briskly.
Overall, the Versacarry Element Holster is an excellent choice for those looking for a comfortable and discreet 1911 holster. Its adjustable cant and quick-release clips make it a standout option, but expect some minor issues with the spare magazine storage and slippage. But if you're willing to overlook these minor flaws, this holster could be a great addition to your daily carry routine.

Buyer's Guide

When it comes to choosing the right 1911 holster, there are several important factors to consider. Here, we'll guide you through some of the most significant aspects of 1911 holsters and provide you with valuable insights to help you make an informed decision.

Material and Durability


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A good 1911 holster should be made of high-quality materials that can withstand the test of time. Common materials used for 1911 holsters include leather, Kydex, and nylon. Leather holsters offer excellent durability and a natural, classy look but may require more maintenance over time. Kydex and nylon holsters, on the other hand, offer greater durability, resistance to weather, and ease of care.

Retention and Security

Retention is a crucial feature that ensures your 1911 stays securely in its holster when not in use. Consider holsters with adjustable retention systems that allow you to adjust the tension to fit your personal preferences. Furthermore, the holster should have a secure clasp or locking mechanism to prevent accidental falls or drops.

Comfort and Concealment

Comfort is a key factor to consider when choosing a 1911 holster, as you'll likely wear it frequently. Look for a holster that has a smooth interior to minimize friction against your firearm. Additionally, a 1911 holster with a curved base, adjustable cant, or a swivel mechanism can help you achieve better concealment, especially when carrying in the appendix position.

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Draw Speed and Access

Draw speed is vital for self-defense and can be affected by various factors such as the style of the holster and the position of the grip. A good holster should allow for quick and easy draws without compromising security. Consider holsters with open-bottom designs, as these often promote faster drawing speeds.

Mounting Options and Fit

There are different methods for attaching 1911 holsters, including belt loops, clips, and clips with belt loops. Choose a holster that suits your preferred method of attachment. Additionally, it's essential to ensure that the holster provides a snug and secure fit for your specific 1911 model. Consider the type of carry position you prefer (e. g. , appendix, side, small of the back) and look for holsters designed for that position.

Brand Reputation and Customer Reviews


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Do your research on the 1911 holster's brand and customer reviews. A reputable brand with a track record of quality products and satisfied customers can be a good sign. Read reviews to learn about users' experiences with the holster, particularly in terms of fit, durability, and functionality.
Remember that your decision should be based on your personal needs and preferences, as well as the specific requirements of your 1911. By considering these factors, you'll increase your chances of selecting a high-quality 1911 holster that meets your unique demands.

FAQ

Why is a 1911 holster important for gun owners?

A 1911 holster is essential for gun owners who own a 1911 pistol, as it offers a safe and secure way to carry and store their firearm. A high-quality holster protects the pistol from damage, keeps it firmly in place during activities such as shooting or daily carrying, and is readily accessible when needed.

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What are some common materials used to make 1911 holsters?

Some common materials used to make 1911 holsters include leather, polymer, and nylon. Leather holsters offer durability and a classic look, while polymer and nylon holsters are lightweight, water-resistant, and provide a faster draw for the user.

What are the key features to look for in a 1911 holster?

  • Secure retention: The holster should hold the 1911 pistol securely while allowing for a quick and easy draw when needed.
  • Comfort: The holster should be comfortable to wear, with minimal friction or pressure points on the user.
  • Durability: The materials and construction of the holster should be rugged and withstand wear and tear, including exposure to the elements.
  • Ambidextrous design: If applicable, the holster should be suitable for both right- and left-handed shooters.

What is the difference between inside-the-waistband (IWB) and outside-the-waistband (OWB) 1911 holsters?

An inside-the-waistband (IWB) holster is designed to be worn under clothing, close to the body for concealment. It can offer a better fit and is more comfortable for most users. Outside-the-waistband (OWB) holsters are worn outside clothing, providing easy access to the firearm. While OWB holsters are generally faster to draw, they may be less discreet for concealed carry purposes.

Are there any special considerations for choosing a 1911 holster with a specific gun carry method?

  • Concealed carry: For concealed carry, look for a holster that is thin, lightweight, and designed for minimal printing or visible outline under clothing.
  • Inside-the-waistband carry: An IWB holster should be designed to comfortably conceal the pistol and should be adjustable for a customized fit.
  • Outside-the-waistband carry: An OWB holster should be adjustable for cant angle and ride height to ensure it fits the user's body and gun model well.

How do I maintain and clean a 1911 holster?

Cleaning and maintaining a 1911 holster involves regularly inspecting it for tears, wear, or damage. Leather holsters should be conditioned periodically using a leather conditioner, and all holsters should be wiped clean of sweat, dirt, or debris. It is also essential to prevent excessive moisture buildup that can damage the holster or cause bacteria growth. Always check the holster before use for any signs of wear or damage, and replace it if necessary.
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