I (18m) moved out of my home state two years ago with my mom. My parents are divorced and my dad is remarried and has kids and a stepkid back in our home state. I don't have a good relationship with him so when my mom got an opportunity to move, I told her to take it and bring me with her. A judge agreed that at 16 I was old enough to say I wanted to go and so we went. My dad was really unhappy. So were the rest of his family.
BG: I was 5 when my parents divorced. Dad cheated. He then moved in with his affair partner and they broke up a few months later. So I had a lot of unsettled shit going on then. A couple of months later my dad meets his second wife and her kid who was 1 at the time. They got engaged and married really, really fast. After he moved her in I told him it was going too fast and I asked him to slow down and wait to get married and stuff. He told me it wasn't my decision, he was the adult, he made the choices, and he would do what he wanted and he didn't care how it made me feel because he wasn't going to stay single for me. I never forgot him saying that. The day he did get married is when he realized he had fucked up. Because I "ran away" back home to mom so I wasn't there for the ceremony and I refused to go to the reception either. He told me the day after the wedding that I should really give this a chance and he would prove that this was the best for everyone. But I never wanted to be with my dad from the day he told me what he did to the day mom and I moved. I wished for him to not have custody over me and I never tried to be a part of his family. The rest of them are innocent and I don't hate them or blame them. I just don't care about knowing them. My dad kept hyping me up to his stepkid and later his other bio kids with his wife. So they thought of me as this really cool older brother and they expected a much closer relationship than I wanted to have with them.
When I left it upset them. I got letters and calls from them. I told dad he needed to get it stopped because I wouldn't stay in touch once I was 18.
A few days before my 18th birthday he called me and told me he wanted me to visit for the summer so his family could see me, that his kids missed me. I told him I would not come, not if he paid for everything, not if he begged.
Last week his wife reached out and asked why I hadn't told them my arrival date yet. I ignored her message but then she started calling my mom and to stop her I called her and she asked why I'd go back on my word to visit this summer and how disappointed her kids would be if I didn't show up after they were told I was coming. I told her dad's a liar and I never agreed to visit for the summer. I made it clear I wasn't going to. She got mad and asked me why not and I said I no longer wish to have any contact with them and I ended the call. I then got a bunch of emails sent by her and then by dad who were pissed about what I said.
AITA?

I’ve never written a question on this app before but this is eating at me. BUCKLE UP THIS IS LONG!
So my husband’s family have been abusive to him, he is the black sheep of his family he is the youngest and has a different father than his older siblings (8,6 years older).
Ever since I started dating him I was antagonized in some way. When I first met his family for Christmas his middle brother invited his ex-girlfriend to hang out, unbeknownst to my then bf which was awkward but she was fine with me. My boyfriend then was really sick and I took the train 2 hours to pick him up from his home (where his family was with their cars) and take him to a hospital in London. He was there for 6 days not one person visited him but me. They made fun of him and minimized his illness.
Then we moved to my home country the US and eloped. They came to visit a few years later his mom and eldest brother were okay. Middle brother again constantly throwing barbs and digs at me completely unprovoked. I get there may be a culture difference they are White English conservatives, I’m African American. Shortly after we married he dated a black girl, who left bc she was also treated poorly. Some examples of digs; I congratulated him on graduating and asked him when he finished he replied “same time you were supposed to” (I dropped out). Then I asked what the he loved most and what was challenging about being a PT and he replied “no offense, working with fat people.” Took them to multiple meals and covered everything which wasn’t cheap, he complained about the food being “reheated” and bitched when he was ID’d.
Things get progressively worse, middle brother has a precious baby. I want to spoil her and become close with the mother of the child (who is not with him due to his creepy behavior). We form a fast friendship and chat all the time about the baby. My brother in-law tortures this girl denies he is the dad but also goes out of his way to bully her (she’s not breast feeding right, she shouldn’t have pacifiers) all from the comfort of his home. He is also constantly complaining about having to pay $50 a week in child support nonstop saying he is going “bankrupt”. My hubby is part of a group chat and my mother-in-law talks ish about my friend and my hubby is telling me. I ask to see and his brother is actively trying to give his soon to be 1 year old daughter eggs and gluten that his ex told him she was allergic to and they are plotting to do this during her birthday and explicitly NOT tell my friend the mom of his baby. The reasoning was “I’m the father, I deserve to be respected, I can make choices to” but he is extremely sneaky. I show my friend/baby’s mom the messages and all hell breaks loose because of course he lies and gets caught. I would have told him off directly but he blocked me because he was mad at how close I was getting to his ex. I am called a “despicable woman” dragged in their chat, made to seem that I’m spying on my husband and accused of being jealous and sabotaging my niece’s birthday party. My husband says nothing in my defense just goes along like he didn’t send me the photos of their chat…
They don’t know I’m pregnant at this time and I chose not to tell any of my in-laws due to how awful they are. I also don’t believe in telling anyone that would wish ill on me and my baby (bad juju), but my bestie the baby mom knows. I give birth his mom has an absolute tantrum says incredibly awful things to my husband, reaches out to my mom to wish her congratulations on her grandchild and says “i guess I will learn to love him.”
Then my friend the mom gets diagnosed with cancer and wants to keep this secret and makes me promise, she kept my secret pregnancy it is the least I could do. She dies a few months later and my brother in law attacks her for not telling him and claims she is a horrible mother. He takes custody of his daughter.
Fast forward the eldest brother meets this hog woman. She is rotund and English, very ignorant and rude. The first interaction I had she thought she knew so much, decides to bash my dead friend’s parenting, call my dead father in law “weird”, tells me my niece eats everything now due to having a “good parent” and called my apt in NYC “embarrassing” bc it had scaffolding on google maps when she looked me up (like a creep). She then antagonizes me in a variety of slick ways including posting the eldest brother with my niece with the caption “uncle B’s favorite!” On my son’s birthday. Most recently I tell his family that we want to actually have a proper wedding and celebrate after 10 years of marriage, i give them 2 years notice. The hog says “ohhh me and the eldest are planning on getting married then.” I ask why she says “nice weather”. She then proceeds to have a fall wedding (orange, red, greens, pumpkins, barley, wheelbarrows etc.” in May. I try to be the bigger person and send a kind welcome and she leaves me on read.
I hate these people, I need to let this go. My husband says that we should just go on continuing our happy life and not “start problems”. But it feels like so much awfulness to have to swallow. I also feel like if/when I do speak up I’m the hysterical angry black woman and this hog is the “innocent”. The whole thing is so so frustrating but I need to let it go even though I want them to hurt emotionally as much as they have hurt us.
Any recommendations, would you want revenge? There is so much more but I have written a novel already. I feel alone like no one has my back or tries to understand my perspective. They are so sneaky and underhanded. I want to protect my family from these sick people. At the same time I want justice, justice for my husband, for my dead bestie, for me son and for me.

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!

Obligatory this started more than 2 years ago. I live with my grandmother, my father lives with his own family an hour away.
Grandmother fell ill and hid it from all of us. When we found out, she refused to have herself checked and this went on for months as her condition got worse and worse. Any attempts to urge her to get checked would be met with yelling and snapping back, even items being thrown at people, it didn't matter if you were her son or grandson.
Eventually she ended up at the point where she couldn't even stand, she told me she wanted to die already. Now this grandmother of mine terrorized me my whole life, she tried kicking my mother and I during my childhood multiple times because she hated my mother, she would instigate fights with me and lie that I hit her or yelled at her siblings and my father. But I felt like I couldn't just watch her wither away, nor did I just want to stand idly and watch my father break down more and more at the thought of losing his mother.
So now at her most vulnerable, I cared for her, I moved into her room to watch over her. I urged her to keep living, I told her the family wouldn't want her gone and that she's still strong and can fight it. Long story short after a month she agreed to go to the hospital. It's cancer, we're too late and its terminal, but they chose to operate anyway and it was a success they removed as much as they could, but nothing could be done with the cancer that has reached her head. The doctors did everything they could and they believe she'll have a few more years to live her life. My dad dedicates the next year of his life to being with her and taking care of her, along with hiring 2 personal nurses to attend to her other needs as she refuses to allow me or my father bring her to the toilet for example.
Fast forward a year later, we find out that she's been talking shit behind my father's back. Soon enough, whenever he's around she badmouths his wife (my parents are now divorced) to his face and openly says that my half-sister isn't her grandchild. This goes on for months more until on my birthday she wakes up, gets out of her room, causes a scene and badmouths my father's wife and daughter to their face. This was the last straw, my father no longer drove over everyday to be with her, he still pays for her medicines and nurses but he told me he can't face her anymore, it was too much after everything he's done for her the past year+. I try to mediate but my grandmother sees no issue. After all, according to her she only badmouthed the wife and kid, not my father.
Today her favorite nurse went home to take a 1 week vacation, a temporary nurse came in to take her place. She has yelled at both nurses to fuck off and leave the room. Both aren't allowed in, she smells like shit because she refuses to let anyone change her diaper and whenever I try to convince her she just yells. As with before, she refuses anyone not female to clean her or take her to the bathroom, I am male.
More than 100k+ USD spent the past 2 years solely on her, that amount of money in my country you could live comfortably for years, 2 years of trying to give a dying old lady a good last few years, ends up here. With a smelly, angry, spoiled grandmother who refuses to listen to me once again. One who has told my father he can fuck off if he wants as long as he keeps paying for her nurses and medication.
I'm back on my anti-depression meds, and I'm having a thought worse than suicide. I'm regretting having convinced my grandmother to live, I should've let her die like she wanted. I feel like a complete asshole for thinking of it, but she's caused endless problems for her nurses, my siblings and I, my parents, her own siblings and many others in these two years.
TL;DR: I convinced my dying grandmother to get treated despite the fact that she is a horrible person. 2 years later she's an even worse person than before and I'm learning the lesson that sometimes some people should be left to die.

Fresh out of college and board exams at 21, I immediately started earning a living and providing what I can for the family. Call me a breadwinner if you may. A lot has changed in my life, from profession to last name, but providing for my first family has always been a constant for me. I am 30 years old now.
In 2020, my parents decided to end their marriage after I stepped in and gave them an ultimatum on what they wanted to happen with their relationship and our family. I basically got tired from all the scream battles and breaking things in the house, or everyone giving everyone cold treatment, there was no in between. There was a point where my father was nothing but deflective and even physically abusive to me and my siblings (especially the youngest, got beaten up multiple times). Mother was just always emotionally-absent and dismissive. I was 26 then, my younger sister 24, and our youngest brother 21.
In the process of their separation, dad wanted to sell our family home, take half of the money and go back to his parents to a far island province. Mom strongly refused, but I told her that if they really are separating, there's no point in keeping the house, and that I will help her get another house to live in (which I did). She did many ways to convince dad not to sell the house but dad was not budging, so she reluctantly gave in in the end.
In 2022, my dad would frequently message me and my siblings how he was deeply regretful of his decision to leave, he was sick and apparently running out of the money he took from selling our family home. He asked to let him live with us again. At this time my mother was in a new relationship and they were kind of on&off living together, my siblings and I were living our separate adult lives too. We forgave him, but obviously what he asked was impossible because there was nowhere to return to.
In December 2023, on the day of my mother's birthday, my father died. He was a heavy drinker up to his 30s, but more than that he was a chainsmoker, I guess up until he couldn't smoke anymore. Some may say it was only a matter of time for those to catch up to him, especially because he was never health-conscious, never had a good diet and never exercised properly.
I saw it coming the day he left us, but it still devastated me. I remember how much I admired and loved my father, or at least the version of him before he turned to his abusive ways. He was my superman and top comedian as a kid. He was all that before the marriage and money problems began.
What hurts more was that we were not able to go to his wake and burial because of financial problems. Despite that I still took a loan to give my aunt money for his hospital, funeral and burial expenses. It was the best I can do, as going there is so costly I would rather help them bury my father properly with the money, even if it means I would not see the remains of him one last time. It still hurts a lot. I am trying to move on day by day, but there is a large hole in my heart now he is gone, and I can't even visit his grave.
Fast forward to yesterday, my brother messaged our mom for me about something because I am not currently in good and talking terms with her, and I promise you it was for a very valid reason. My brother showed me what mother said to him about how she is so stressed about me not wanting to talk to her, about how she wanted to just leave and disappear because she is not wanted, the usual gaslighting lines. Honestly, she was always like this. She never acknowledged anyone's struggle but her own. She can make bad decisions but we were only allowed to sympathize because we can now understand things as adults, even if we got hurt or are still hurt.
What I cannot fathom about everything she said to my brother was how she "finally understood why my father left us". And that she might just do the same until the last of her remaining days, saying she is "ready". She said she plans on going home to her hometown with her siblings so they can take care of her since we would not do it. At this time she is living in a house I bought using her money from selling our family home as downpayment, and my own income to pay for the remaining balance monthly under a 30-year loan.
I always knew she was not happy about how I convinced her to let the family home go and start again. I made peace with that indifference knowing it was the way to stop all the abuse and let everyone move on. What I was not aware of is how she thinks it was my fault (or her children's fault) that my father wanted to leave in the first place. How she can have the audacity to say that is shaking me to my very core, thinking how much trauma we got from their toxic marriage. So much trauma that I decided I never want to have kids.
I feel almost betrayed at this point, knowing all these revelation from her and after all I have done for the family for the last nine years. To be fair, I always had that sinking feeling that I everything I do will never be enough, now I can confirm it is true. I am so hurt that I do not want to have anything to do with her until she dies. But I know that my love and understanding for her will always kick in. I'm just lucky I live quite far from her now so I can physically distance myself at least.
But how do you go from here?

As many of you are aware today should have been Technoblades 25th Birthday. His dad asked us for our way of remembering him on this day.
I discovered Techno’s channel back in 2019, and for the experiences I got to have as apart of the community I can never be more thankful for. Techno was and always will be an inspiration.
I’ve talked about this is certain places before, but I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer a few weeks before Techno released his first video about his diagnosis. I was worried, but I was also comforted because while I was undergoing Chemo, surgeries, and drug trials; the person I looked up to the most was undergoing the same thing.
Realistically, I thought Techno would outlive me.
When the news broke, I was devastated, and I largely gave up on trying to get better. I cannot put into words just how badly it affected me, and then a few short weeks later I lost another friend to leukemia.
But, I survived this time too. I realized that when I died, all the memories I got to make as a part of this amazing fan base would disappear- and I didn’t want that.
However, I knew it wouldn’t last forever. For those of you who have seen my tumblr, my health had been steadily declining the past few months.
I don’t want it to come to a surprise when I don’t live through this summer.
I’m not upset by this, in fact, I’m amazed I’ve gotten nearly four years after being diagnosed. I’m grateful to everyone for being apart of my memories.
I’m grateful for this community- for remembering Techno.
I’m grateful to Technodad for making sure his son’s memory is used for good, despite the grief it brings him.
I’ve recommended to my mom and dad his videos and posts about how he’s been getting through his grief, and I hope that when the time comes it can help them as much as it’s helped me.
I’m not saddened to go. I’ve had a good run.
Happy Birthday Alex.
For my Tumblr peeps, don’t worry about the story. I’ve written how each chapter shall go, and while I most likely won’t be the one writing it after this coming chapter it will be in the hands of someone I trust. While the words won’t be mine, I know they’ll follow the way I wanted the story to go.
I’m not sure if it will be me updating again, and when it might be if so.
Thank you guys so much for all your support with this fic. I cannot express how much it means to me that there are people out there who have enjoyed it.
Take care 💛

I was the firstborn girl to my parents, who were both in their early 20’s when they had me.
We lived in an apartment during much of my remembered youth, just us and my brother. It was rough going, my dad had a vicious temper and my mom tried to protect us but he scared us almost every day with his red faced anger.
My mom demanded academic excellence from us because our school performance directly affected his mood. I was depressed, anxious, isolated and felt like a failure. I felt like if I didn’t do well then I had put my mom in the path of his rampages.
I’m not sure if it was conscious, but my mom started treating me worse too.
My only real solace was that every Sunday I would sleepover at my Grandmothers house, and I continued to do this until I left for college.
My grandmother was a wonderful woman, she gave me a quiet home to live in once a week- she was patient and gentle with me. She and her fiancé showed me how kind and soft love could look between married people.
She taught me how to apply makeup, she spent time with me and listened to my thoughts. She made me feel safe and loved and appreciated- she was someone I could talk to about anything, even her son (my dad).
She would hold up a finger and say to me “never let anyone make you feel less than you are, dearheart”
We spent hours side by side reading books, and she didn’t criticize me for being a quiet person. It was just perfect acceptance and presence without fail.
In high school, her fiancé passed away and she slipped quickly into Alzheimer’s. Her sons planned to take her from her home and place her with a hoarder. I refused to let them take her where she wouldn’t be safe or feel familiar and they fought me but I raged like my father would rage and they agreed that so long as I lived with her and made sure she was safe that she could stay in her home.
So I did, and though they were sad days they also were very happy ones spent together.
Eventually my parents forced me to leave her to go to college, and the brothers moved her out into an apartment with a caregiver- and her eldest son took over her house and tore out all of her things and replaced them with his own.
I was so angry, because all of her familiar things would be gone, and with Alzheimer’s they need to feel things are like usual.
Thankfully she had a great caretaker who I felt we could trust. When pandemic hit, we couldn’t see her and I was always worried she would get sick. She couldn’t remember me anymore but on the last occasion I saw her eyes open she was only looking at me out of the whole family, like she was trying to focus.
She entered a catatonic state not long after, and per her request, she was allowed to pass in her own time by food and water denial- just morphine and water swabs for her dry mouth.
She slept, and she persisted for two weeks, and I never left her side for longer than a few hours to shower or get clothes. I stayed on a cot next to her bed, and held her hand, let her hair, and played her favorite music. And when they put her in a bag I placed her blanket we often shared on top of her.
I miss her so much, especially when my parents are around. I feel like my mother died, and tonight I found myself thinking of her again even though it’s been two years.
I laid down to sleep with my partner and wondered who I would have been if I hadn’t had that love in my life to guide me when I needed it so badly.
And I marvel at how my grandmother made me feel so chosen at a time when my folks made me feel like I was no one at all.
Would I have my partner of 3 years and this wonderful relationship, if my grandmother hadn’t modeled for me what it was supposed to be like?
She died but the gifts she gave me never stop giving themselves again and again and all I feel is this immense gratitude, but I never got to show her as an adult how wonderful those gifts were and that is my greatest remorse. I wish she could know how she altered the trajectory of my life and infected it with joy.

My partner of four years recently (less than 4 months ago) lost his mom.
They were terminal for a long time (about a year) and during this whole time things between us were not good. We fought constantly. Issues that came up before his mom got sick kept coming up but would become catastrophic. His patience was non existent and that kind man that never said a mean word to me all but disappeared. In his place came a person that called me vile, evil, manipulative, a horrible person, disgusting and other things. Once he even said that I deserved to feel this way when I started crying. Albeit, those examples are the worst things he’s ever said to me.
Some other things that have happened:

• We had a bad bad fight where he told me he’s sick of me and sick of feeling like he’s a better person than I am… this was on my birthday.
  
• He also didn’t get me an anniversary gift last year or plan anything which I tried really hard to be understanding about. I didn’t make it a big deal or anything but I did mention that i was hurt that he never even addressed it. Especially since I went all out for our anniversary. It was very thoughtful and he cried.
  

I’m not saying I’ve been perfect. I’ve been also not great. I definitely am way too sensitive and take it personally when he’s in a bad mood. I can also get frustrated easy but one thing I do not do is insult him. And honestly I’ve been there. I’d cook and bring groceries for him and his family. I’d do hospital visits despite being terrified of blood and needles ( I actually fainted once visiting his mom). When he and his dad were at work sometimes I’d just come hang out with her. I was around his mom more and did more this past year than his literal older brother. But it doesn’t seem to matter when we get into the fighting cycle. It’s gotten to the point where I tell him very little about myself. I deal with a lot on my own cause I don’t feel like he’s a person I can be vulnerable with. I had a hard year too. I struggled a lot with my body image and eating. I lost >40 pounds and became underweight. Coincidentally I had an incident where my graduate supervisor sendt me an inappropriate photo months before I finished my masters.
Shockingly I actually think things have gotten a little better since his mom passed away but his mean streak is still there. I’m just not sure what to do or how to support him. He’s always really remorseful and promises to stop being so mean after but it’s still happening. I also recently moved to a new city where I don’t know anyone and feel very lonely so it’s hard to add fighting with him. I always feel like the worst person in the world afterwards too cause I’m fighting with someone who just lost their mom :( I’m sure there’s someone out there that would be perfect for him and they would never fight and I feel so guilty cause he deserves that.
He is an amazing person and I love him so much I just don’t know how to improve things. I can tell I’m starting to get resentful and bitter :(
TLDR: my 4 year relationship has been really strained since my boyfriends mom got terminally sick. His grief has made him really mean and I’m starting to become resentful. I love him soooo much I just don’t know to fix things.

Myself F(34) told my brother (33) and wife to be (33) myself and my son (12) "page boy" we were not attending their wedding in January their wedding is in June.
From the time they were engaged 5 years ago they wanted my son to be involved which was ok......roll on planning for the wedding my brother had promised my son that he was bringing him to get his hair cut son has ASD ADHD and other bits wrong so this was to get him used to his new hair cut and was let down I told my brother this and he thought it wasn't a big deal then a promise was made to have transportation to the venue which is in the middle of nowhere again this was made from the time of the venue being chosen as I don't drive and wasn't given a plus one which I was fine with I was told on my son's birthday sorry I can't take you but I'll take kiddo on the day making it near enough impossible for me to make it there myself.
As mentioned my son has issues that I asked if there was a room I could book at the venue. I was told ohh we forgot to tell you after the ceremony the kids in the wedding party are not allowed to attend the afters and need to go home. I again just asked if it was just possible to get a room in case of a meltdown and how were we to go home on a bank holiday. They said just get a taxi and bus or get a friend to collect son no room available.
Between all this my son wasn't measured for a suit when the rest of the groomsmen/ brothers son was and then I found out too he wasn't given a little memory trinket when the flower girls/other pageboy and bridesmaids and groomsmen where when they were properly asked wouldn't have cared much but it was feeling more and more he was being looked over.
When I asked could I drop down a gift recently, I was blanked by my brother and was met in a txt with his future wife saying we weren't welcome and it would be too upsetting for my brother to receive anything from us it was a sentimental gift celebrating our mother who wouldn't be there and something for her to put in her flowers (a pearl from my mams necklace she had worn at her wedding) if she had wanted it. But was told no I assumed it was both of them on that decision but turns out it was just her that doesn't want us down my brother isn't aware she texted me.
From the point of no information,the braking of promises and the lack of care towards my kiddo and it's essentially a child free wedding AITA for pulling my kiddo and myself from the wedding

In the Name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.
Peace be to you all.

Introduction:

In this post, I will be answering and refuting the individual who keeps writing posts about me and comments every second he gets trying to "refute" me and "expose" me. I am only doing this because some brothers and sisters have allowed themselves to be fooled by this dude.
I won't resort to personal attacks and baseless claims (much like he does), and I will jump straight ahead to answering his objections.

Response to the introduction:

He begins by discussing my translation of the word "ישוחח," which I interpret as "argue" or "put forth."
Firstly, in Biblical Hebrew, verb forms such as Qal and Piel (often referred to as Polel in some grammatical traditions) are distinguished by their specific diacritic markings (i.e., vowel points and consonantal diacritics). Since I believe that the Masoretes distorted the Old Testament by adding these diacritics to reach a deviant interpretation, I do not consider them at all. I read the Old Testament without any diacritics. This is something he has yet to understand, perhaps because he believes that the Old Testament was revealed with diacritic markings—I don't know.
He later argues that the ancient Christian manuscripts (such as the Codex Sinaiticus, Septuagint, etc.) must agree with my claims and not with the Masoretic renderings of the Hebrew text, a conclusion he bases on thin air. I ask: Why is that so? Can you give us one good reason for this conclusion? You can't! He says this only because he considers these Christian manuscripts as divinely revealed criteria and translations. In contrast, I (and many others) see them as ancient interpretations of the original Hebrew text, which are very erroneous. This is especially true considering that rabbis themselves claim these scholars and translators failed to understand every Hebrew idiom in the book. They took everything literally and thus deviated from the intended meaning throughout their translations. These are the translations he claims must agree with my understanding.
The Masoretes could even have been influenced by Christians and their manuscripts, leading them to render some verses erroneously, whether knowingly or unknowingly—we can't be certain. However, I believe it wasn't unknowingly, and I have very good reasons for holding this opinion.
His arguments in his objections are all flawed and fallacious.

The Original sin being denied in the OT:

Now, the word he is fixated on is "ישוחח." As he mentioned, I used a classical Hebrew dictionary to translate the word. I don't remember the exact dictionary I used, but here is a random one I will use today:

Root: שִׂיחַ (v)
1 - to put forth, mediate, muse, commune, speak, complain, ponder, sing
1 -(Qal)
1 - to complain
2 - to muse, meditate upon, study, ponder
3 - to talk, sing, speak
2 - (Polel) to meditate, consider, put forth thoughts

Source: מקור: Open Scriptures on GitHub, Creator: יוצר: Based on the work of Larry Pierce at the Online Bible
In other words, both Qal and Polel essentially mean the same thing.
This following excerpt is from my original post about this, the post he is "refuting":
Excerpt from the post in question:
_______________________
Isaiah 53:8, traditional translation:
"From imprisonment and from judgment he is taken, and his generation who shall tell? For he was cut off from the land of the living; because of the transgression of my people, a plague befell them."
The original verse (without diacritics):
מעצר וממשפט לקח ואת־דורו מי ישוחח כי נגזר מארץ חיים מפשע עמי נגע למו:
My translation:
"He was taken from arrest and trial, and as for his generation, who will argue that he was cut off from the land of the living [i.e. killed] for the sin of my people, a plague befell them."
_______________________
In this verse, God is explicitly denying the doctrine of the Original Sin, stating that those who argue, speak, put forth, or ponder that Jesus was killed for the sins of His (God's) people are cursed (or afflicted by a plague).
It is crystal clear! He is just in denial because it contradicts his Pauline doctrine. Thus, he has fixated on this specific word, insisting it is (without a shadow of a doubt) in the Polel form (because his Pauline forefathers said so), and claims that Exion has made a grave error. Incredible, indeed. What a rebuttal!
Let's see if the Polel form does anything to save him:
1. Meditate:

"He was taken from arrest and trial, and as for his generation, who will meditate that he was cut off from the land of the living [i.e. killed] for the sin of my people, a plague befell them."

The definition of "Meditate" is:

1. To plan mentally; consider,
   
2. To focus one's mind for a period of time, in silence or with the aid of chanting, for religious or spiritual purposes or as a method of relaxation.
   

I know it isn't the latter, because that is just ludicrous and silly. But guess what? They even tried to claim it is the latter, which is beyond amusing to me and any other sane person reading this.
2. Consider:

"He was taken from arrest and trial, and as for his generation, who will consider that he was cut off from the land of the living [i.e. killed] for the sin of my people, a plague befell them."

It still obliterates the doctrine of the Original sin completely.
3. Put forth thoughts:

"He was taken from arrest and trial, and as for his generation, who will put forth thoughts that he was cut off from the land of the living [i.e. killed] for the sin of my people, a plague befell them."

It still obliterates the doctrine of the Original sin completely.
This is what I have to deal with. He is correcting my interpretation by yet again confirming it and he doesn't even realize it. He refuses to accept that the Old Testament completely refutes this absurd Pauline doctrine that God sent His "son" to the earth to kill him and forgive mankind. He can't understand that the Old Testament aligns with the Quran, calling them cursed. I have explained this to him several times, but to no avail. According to him, the early Christians "meditated" about Jesus' "abode." He raises the same objection in every comment he makes on every future post I do, as if I haven't just refuted him using the Bible, dictionaries, and other sources. In one ear and out the other. The only reason I'm even writing this response is to make you guys realize how unknowledgeable this man really is about the Bible and the Hebrew language. But he is good at making it look like he knows a thing or two by using fancy words and elaborations that make no sense at all.
I believe (if I remember correctly) that he translates it as:

"By oppressive judgment he was taken away, Who could describe his abode?..."

This unusual rendering is achieved by mistranslating a word, done specifically to alter the actual meaning. Some Jewish translators render it the same way, but they at least have the decency to add a footnote saying:

"\Who could describe his abode?* Meaning of Heb. uncertain." (source: Sefaria.org)

As they usually do when they mistranslate stuff.
Who would describe Jesus abode? What?! With all due respect, but that makes no sense at all! It makes no sense contextually nor logically.
This is how another Jewish translation has it:

"From imprisonment and from judgment he is taken, and his generation who shall tell? For he was cut off from the land of the living; because of the transgression of my people, a plague befell them."

Does this look like a coherent sentence to you? Jesus is taken from imprisonment and judgement, and his generation who shall tell? Tell what? This is an incomplete sentence - just to change the actual intended message.
The original phrase is: "ואת־דורו מי ישוחח"
Let me break it down for you:

Word: ואת = "And his"
Word: ־דורו = "Generation"
Word: מי = "Who will"
Word: ישוחח = "Argue/Put forth/Talk/consideetc"

Crystal clear phrase. Even Google translates it accurately (which is very rare by the way):

"And his generation who will talk"

Take a look at some of the English translations of his Christian forefathers:
New Living Translation Unjustly condemned, he was led away. No one cared that he died without descendants...
New International Version By oppression and judgment he was taken away. Yet who of his generation protested?...
King James Bible He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation?...
Some others got the first part accurate but still misinterpreted the last part of the verse, as it claims that they are cursed. God forbid, they are the ones who are cursed, for they consider Jesus to be the cursed one:
English Standard Version By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people?
They applied the "curse/plague" to Jesus (which they translate as "stricken," even though Biblically it is generally understood to be a plague/curse) instead of applying it to those "who considered" (i.e., the Pauline Christians). The Hebrew verse uses a plural word, indicating that it was intended for those people who would put forth this claim. They all refuse to accept the fact that God is explicitly and literally stating that they are affected by a plague for their erroneous claim about Jesus.
Let's quickly refute them too:

• The word for "plague" is "נגע" (nega).
• The word for "to them" is "למו" (lamo).

"Plague" (נגע):

Hebrew classical dictionary:

Heb: נֶגַע (n-m)
1 - stroke, plague, disease, mark, plague spot
stroke, wound
stroke (metaphorical of disease)
mark (of leprosy)

Source: מקור: Open Scriptures on GitHub, Creator: יוצר: Based on the work of Larry Pierce at the Online Bible

"To them" (לָֽמוֹ):

Hebrew classical dictionary:

1 - inflected pers. pron. meaning ‘to them’ (poetically).
2 - [Formed from לְ◌ with ◌מוֹ, a suff. used only in poetry.]

Source: מקור: Klein Dictionary, Creator: יוצר: Ezra Klein
A plague to whom? TO THEM! To the people who put forth this Pauline doctrine, the ones who argued, said, or considered this absurdity. Absolutely not to the one they believed to be cut off for the sin of God's people, namely Jesus, God's prophet, Messiah, His Word, and a spirit from Him.
But this is not surprising to anyone; it is expected, because their savior Paul also considered the blessed Messiah Jesus to be a curse:

"Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, 'Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.'" (Galatians 3:13)

It bothers them that God Himself is confirming that they are the cursed ones, and He does it in the book they believe in. I am the one who exposed it, and all praise is due to God alone. It bothers this guy who is "eXpOsInG" me, and I won't mention his name because that is most likely what he wants.
He goes on to say that I quoted from a fictitious source, which is not true at all. I simply didn’t bother looking through my entire library to find a quote I mistakenly mis-referenced, mainly because the quote turned out to be quite irrelevant, and I don’t waste my time like that. Much of what he initiated his "rebuttal" with is equally misunderstood by him, and I have responded to each and every objection in my older posts (in the comment sections where he was "eXpOsInG" me). I picked the first thing and refuted it here for you just to show how ignorant he really is and how he is either living a lie or lying to others.
So, I will not bother to refute every single point of the old stuff that I’ve already conclusively answered. It's a waste of time. Let’s move on to his objections to my latest posts, because that is what this is all about in reality.

My answers to his objections to my latest posts:

Regarding the stone God mentions that was to be placed in the Temple of God, he says that it is saying

"Stone to a stone," or "upon a stone"

My answer:
"Stone to a stone" is not a Hebrew idiom, and neither is the word "upon" there in Hebrew. He doesn't know Hebrew, had he known Hebrew, he would never have "eXpOsEd" this because it just went to show that he doesn't know the language at all.
The Hebrew word "שום" (shum) in this context is derived from the root ש-ו-ם, which means "to place" or "to put." It appears here as an infinitive construct, which is often used to convey the act of doing something, similar to the English "-ing" form. In this sentence, "שום" is functioning as a gerund, which is a verbal noun. It translates to "placing" or "putting" in English. Therefore, "שום־אבן" means "placing a stone" or "putting a stone."
As for the next word, i.e. "stone" (אבן), in Hebrew, nouns have gender (masculine or feminine) and number (singular or plural). "אבן" is a feminine singular noun. When used in the phrase "שום־אבן" (placing a stone), "אבן" functions as the direct object of the action described by the infinitive construct "שום" (placing).
The next word is אל: This is taken as a preposition according to them, and it generally means "to" or "toward," and never "upon." It is used to indicate direction or movement towards something. While the following word is, again, a stone "אבן."
So if we're going with their interpretation, while being literal, as we should because it is not an idiom, it accurately translates to:
"Before placing a stone to a stone" or "before placing stone to stone"
Which makes very little sense, if any. Why wouldn't God say "Before placing stone upon stone" or "Stones upon stones" or "before placing a stone upon a stone"? Why did He use a singular word for "stone"? Because it is speaking about a one stone, the stone that God placed in Zion:

"So this is what the Sovereign LORD says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; the one who relies on it will never be stricken with panic." (Isaiah 28:16)

I have proven in countless posts that Zion is the ancient name for Mecca. Just look up Psalm 84, and you will see how it mentions doing the pilgrimage in Zion and also mentions "Bacca," another name for Mecca. I have proven how Harran is located in Mecca and that the oak of Bacca is located there as well, and we know according to Psalm 84 that Zion is located where Bacca is located. With this in mind, it’s easy to see what has been done to cover up this prophecy. They have misinterpreted the word "El" as "Upon" instead of "God." The definition of that word is not "Upon"; it means "To/toward" or "God."
Classical Hebrew dictionary:

Heb: אֵל (n-m)
god, god-like one, mighty one
mighty men, men of rank, mighty heroes
angels
god, false god, (demons, imaginations)
God, the one true God, Jehovah
mighty things in nature
strength, power

Source: מקור: Open Scriptures on GitHub, creator: יוצר: Based on the work of Larry Pierce at the Online Bible
And:

Heb: אֶל (prep.)
denoting motion toward or to, or direction toward, and meaning ‘to, unto, toward, into, at, by’.
[Shortened from אֱלֵי (which is preserved in poetry). cp. עֲלֵי, poetical form of עַל (= on), and עֲדֵי, poetical form of עַד (= as far as, until). Related to Arab. ’ilā (= to, toward, up to).]

Source: מקור: Klein Dictionary, Creator: יוצר: Ezra Klein
Let's see if any of these help him:

Before placing a stone to a stone?
Before placing a stone towards a stone?
Before placing a stone into a stone?
Before placing a stone unto a stone? (archaic term for "to")
Before placing a stone at a stone?
Before placing a stone by a stone?

Does any of this make any sense to you? I believe it certainly does not. Yet they have all chosen to ignore these valid definitions and instead opt for a definition that isn't there, namely: "a stone UPON a stone," just to claim that God was idiomatically saying "Before you build the temple." The temple was already built, as I will prove later below.
To get a more coherent translation, one that makes sense both contextually and linguistically, we need to consider "El" as "God":

ועתה - "And now"
שימו־נא - "consider, please"
לבבכם - "your heart"
מן־היום - "from this day"
הזה - "this"
ומעלה - "and onward"
מטרם - "before"
שום־אבן - "placing a stone"
אל־אבן - "God's stone/stone of God"
בהיכל - "in the Temple"
יהוה - "of YHWH" (YHWH)

Here, "אל־אבן" would translate to "God's stone" or "stone of God." Thus, the phrase "מטרם שום־אבן אל־אבן בהיכל יהוה" would be understood as "before placing a stone as God's stone in the temple of YHWH" or "before placing a stone, God's stone, in the temple of YHWH"
He is just in denial here as well. It is quite obvious that God is talking about placing a stone in the Temple of God, not about placing a stone towards a stone (whatever that means). Biblically, it is known that Jacob placed a stone in the House of God in Harran, which I have also proven to be located in the vicinity of Mecca, using 1st-century CE atlases by giants in geography such as Pomponius Mela, Pliny, and others.
He writes:

"More importantly, Exion ignored that “stone” in the Hebrew occurs twice. If we take אל to be God and take it as the construct state (the ‘s) then it would be “before setting stone’s God’s stone”. That doesn’t make sense hence why Exion dropped the first occurrence of אֶ֛בֶן in their translation."

Or you could simply not take "El" as a construct state. In Hebrew, a noun followed by another noun can indicate possession without needing a construct state (i.e. the equivalent of adding 's in English). This is often called "smikhut" or construct form, but it is not always necessary to explicitly form it.
In the phrase "שום־אבן אל־אבן" (placing a stone as God's stone), the context and the nouns' arrangement provide the possessive meaning without requiring additional grammatical changes. "אל־אבן" can be understood as "God's stone" even though it is not in the formal construct state. This is something he doesn't know because, well, who knows why. I have my speculations, but I will refrain from personal attacks.
He says:

"It makes perfect sense with the rest of the verse “in the temple of Yahweh.” It’s talking about before the building of the temple which involved setting stone upon stone."

Oh really? Is that why the 3rd verse literally talks about the Temple that already was in existence but was viewed as nothing in their eyes (i.e. insignificant):

"Who among you is left, who saw this house in its former glory? And as you see it now, is it not as nothing in your eyes?" (Haggai 2:3)

Explicitly contradicting your claim that it doesn't exist, but you didn't know that because you have probably never even read the entirety of the chapter to begin with. The Temple was already there. A stone was to be placed in it, God's stone, the black stone of the House of God, and not that it was to be built or built anew. This is why I even wrote the article, because the temple of God was already in existence. How you could have missed this, if you've read the chapter in it entirety, is very baffling to me.
This is why Jacob, upon waking from his prophetic dream, never built the House of God. (Yes, Jacob was a prophet, but Christian scholars throughout history didn't recognize this and thought he was merely a patriarch.) Instead, he only placed a stone as its cornerstone and named it "The House of God":

16. When Jacob woke up, he thought, “Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was unaware of it.” 17. And he was afraid and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven!” 18. Early the next morning, Jacob took the stone that he had placed under his head, and he set it up as a pillar. He poured oil on top of it."

Going back to Haggai 2, the 6th verse states:

"כי כה אמר יהוה צבאות עוד אחת מעט היא ואני מרעיש את־השמים ואת־הארץ ואת־הים ואת־החרבה:"

Which literally translates to:

"For thus says the Lord of Hosts: Once more, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land."

Which they have erroneously translated as:

"For so said the Lord of Hosts: [There will rise] another one, and I will shake up the heaven and the earth and the sea and the dry land [for] a little while." (source)

Lying and adding words to the Word of God to make it look like another House would be raised.
7th verse states:
Haggai 2:7

"והרעשתי את־כל־הגוים ובאו חמדת כל־הגוים ומלאתי את־הבית הזה כבוד אמר יהוה צבאות:"

Transliteration:

"Ve-hir'ashti et kol ha-goyim u-va'u chemdat kol ha-goyim u-milati et ha-bayit ha-zeh kavod amar Adonai Tzva'ot."

Not only does it confirm that the House is already in existence, but it mentioned our prophet Ahmad coming to it by using the cognate of his name, "Chemdat," which they erroneously have translated as:

"and the treasures of all the nations will be brought to this Temple."

The preposition "the" is not there before "Chemdat," while it is before "Goyim" (heathens), which makes sense because "Chemdat of all the heathens (will come)" and doesn't translate to "The treasure of all the heathens (will come)," as they have it.
Let me break it down for you:

והרעשתִי (ve-hir'ashti) - "and I will shake"
את (et) - [direct object marker, not translated]
כל (kol) - "all"
הגוים (ha-goyim) - "the heathens"
ובאו (u-va'u) - "and they will come"
חמדת (Chemdat) - "Chemdat" (proper noun)
כל (kol) - "of all"
הגוים (ha-goyim) - "the heathens"
ומלאתי (u-milati) - "and I will fill"
את (et) - [direct object marker, not translated]
הבית (ha-bayit) - "the house"
הזה (ha-zeh) - "this"
כבוד (kavod) - "glory"
אמר (amar) - "says"
יהוה (Adonai) - "Lord"
צבאות (Tzva'ot) - "of Hosts"

Result:

"And I will shake all the heathens, and they will come, Chemdat of all the heathens, and I will fill this house with glory, says the Lord of Hosts."

Explanation:

They have translated it as "the treasures of..." while the phrase "Chemdat" lacks a "The" (Ha), so it would more accurately be rendered as:

"And they will come, treasure of all the heathens, and..."

A very awkward sentence grammatically. And the dictionaries do not define חמדת (Chemdat) as "Treasure," but rather as "Desire" or "Precious." But translating this phrase in this way (if we consider it to mean "desire" or "precious"), we would make the verse even more awkward:

"And they will come, desire of all the heathens" or "And they will come, precious of all the heathens."

Because it is a singular phrase, and not plural, and as I mentioned earlier, lacks a definite preposition.
But if we consider "Chemdat" as a cognate of "Ahmad," as a proper noun referring to Ahmad the prophet (the only heathen prophet known today), it suddenly becomes a very coherent verse that makes much sense. The heathens will be shaken, and they will come. Then, He specifies by saying: Chemdat of all the heathens, and continues with the rest of the verse.
The phrase "הגוים" (ha-goyim) translates as "the heathens," which supports the interpretation that "Chemdat" is a proper noun referring to a significant heathen person anticipated to come. God is going to shake all the heathens, and they will come. Then He specifies who would come: "Chemdat of all the heathens (will come)." He then says He will fill this house, which they saw as nothing, with glory. The house already exists; Chemdat of all nations was just about to come, and God would fill this house with glory again. And, of course, the stone Jacob laid in Genesis 28—the same stone that Jesus referred to in Matthew 21:

1. Jesus said to them, "Have you never read in the Scriptures: 'The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. This is from the Lord, and it is marvelous in our eyes?'

43. Therefore, I tell you that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people who will produce its fruit."

The Kingdom of God was intended to be taken away from the Christians and given to a people who would produce its fruits, and this is what happened when Islam came.
Going back to Haggai 2, the 18th verse also confirms that the Temple already was there:

"Consider, please, your heart from this day and onward, from the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month, from the day that the temple of the Lord was founded, consider your heart."

Just because God considers the two Houses (the current one they saw as insignificant and the later one) as "different" does not mean that it does not already exist physically but will be a different House.
Nevertheless, he is right about one thing regarding this chapter: it does not mention the new moon to new moon and the end of the Sabbath—that was in Isaiah 66. My mistake. But the prophecy is still valid. The new moon to new moon would come, and yes, the second phrase can be interpreted as an end (if we interpret "Shabbat" as "End"), but it is Biblically and generally interpreted as "Sabbath." A literal translation of the phrase in the 23rd verse would be:

שבת (shabbat) - "Sabbath"
בשבתו (be-shabbato) - "His Sabbath"
יבוא (yavo) - "it will come"

Let's agree that it means what the traditional translations say it means, and I don't mean hypothetically, but let's actually agree on that. However, the prophecy about the new moons (Ramadan) is still there and valid because God has not canceled the Sabbath in the Quran; it is still ongoing:
The Quran states in 2:40-42:

Verse 40: "O Children of Israel, remember My favor which I have bestowed upon you and fulfill My covenant [upon you] that I will fulfill your covenant [from Me], and fear Me."
Verse 41: "And believe in what I have sent down confirming that which is [already] with you, and be not the first to disbelieve in it. And do not exchange My signs/verses for a small price, and fear Me."
Verse 42: "And do not mix the truth with falsehood or conceal the truth while you know [it]."

The new moon to a new moon is combined with the Sabbath to Sabbath. This is a fulfilled prophecy!
I don't see easter, halloween or Christmas being mentioned here. It's Ramadan and the Sabbath, the two Covenants God has given to his worshipers, the Covenant of the Children of Israel and the Covenant of Peace, unlike the Pauline Christians who literally took all of their holidays from pagan idolaters, which I won't go into because it's not very relevant to our discussion anyways.
This marks the end of my rebuttal to his "part 1."
Thank you for reading,
/Your bro Exion.

I'll be leaving uni for home in a few days time, but I just got off the phone after talking with my parents and siblings and had felt triggered about the past 2 years and how I almost commited suicide because of all the stress and pressure of putting up with what had transpired. For context, I'm 24 (F) in my last year of uni, and I have two brothers 30(M) and (5M) who live with my parents (Both in their late 50's), who live in the country side. I had been diagnosed with heart disease when I was in highschool and since then things have been tough for me, with losing all my weight and having to go through three different schools just to complete high school because of my health, but since then I have got the hang of taking care of myself and my symptoms, I have gained weight, made it to uni (which was a suprise not only to myself but my teachers as well) and am almost done with uni, and I could not be prouder. However, this past week has been a roller coaster, with thoughts of committing suicide lurking in every corner, I didn't know why at first but after talking to my parents on the phone bits of memories came flooding back to me about how I thought I reached my point of living and that my heart was gonna give out any moment or that it would be better if I'd just off myself with that sharp knife in the corner by slitting my wrists open. You see, my mum had this really bad lung infection the Christmas of 2022 while I was home for the holidays, and I took on most of the responsibility of taking care of her from 5am in the morning to the next morning where I'd sleep at 3am after ensuring she was okay, then wake up to do it all again. Don't get me wrong, I loved taking care of my mum, it made me happy that I could be there when she was at her weakest to lend her the strength and care she deserved after taking care of me all these years. It all happened one afternoon when my brother has come home afted being gone all day and did not even receive an earful from my parents (or mainly my dad) like I did for being out for just 2 hours to unwind from taking care of my mum and nursing her back to health all while not having any contact with friends or the outside world then our yard for almost 2 months, I was called selfish by my dad and told that my actions were stupid that if my mum would die I'd look stupid crying for her just like my mum's sister who chose to go out and meet friends the day her father died, that I was supposed to be at home with mum taking care of her. My dad is a stay at home dad, my older brother dropped out of college and my mum is the sole bread winner of the family. While my mum was sick, my dad would get groceries, attend to church meetings, ensure the yard was kept clean lend a hand when it was needed with caring for mum while my brother ate, slept on time, had time to meet friends, throw his plates in the sink without washing them and not lending a hand with helping mum. Meanwhile I spent my days bathing her, dressing her, feeding her, massaging her body, changing her hot water in her mugs to ensure she stayed hydrated because that's all she could drink without coughing , cleaning her sleeping area and sanitizing it everytime she had to go to bed after a warm bath as well as watching over her as she slept to ensure her pillows were placed in a way that didn't obstruct her airflow all while also ensuring that everyone's laundry was done and put away, food was cooked and served, plates were washed and put away, my little brother was cared for also while doing part of my dad's work around the house to ensure he got enoughg sleep at night, since we lived by the country side there were a lot of chores to do around the house as most of the things were done manually or by hand. I did this until she got back on her feet and was able to do little things around the house without my help. After a week or two when my mum had improved told my parents that I'll be gone the next day after lunch to see my friend and that normally before mum got sick Friday was a free day for me that I get an off day of doing house work. So the day came, I dressed up (I felt pretty after not being able to do that in a whole) and left after ensuring that my big brother was home to assist mum whenever she needed and also checked on my mum to see if she was okay and that she didn't need my help before I stepped out of the house at 2pm. The walk to my friend's house felt like heaven, with sun in my face, the breeze on my face and the skip in my step. I spent the afternoon talking, laughing and having a good time with my friend before going home at 5pm, happy and satisfied that the day had brought me so much joy and relieved my stress. I got and came in with a big Hello, to everyone in the house, my dad didn't say anything, he just sat there looking so mad. And that's when he proceeded to call me selfish and compare me to my mother's sister all while my mother and brother sat there saying nothing, I atleast thought they would've spoken up to say that I needed the break, but they didn't. I cried as ai stood there listening to my dad utter out harsh words until I couldn't listen to him anymore. I proceeded muster up a less shaky voice and said the following "I apologies for going out to see my friend and I apologies mum and dad it won't happen again, but the thing is I needed this, after taking care of mum and the house I just needed a break. My brother gets to go out, meet friend and talk to them and even stay out till late but he never gets scolded but when I do it's different. I do everything in this house, I take care of mum, wash all of your clothes, cook the food, feed you all and even wash up after everything and you big brother can't even wash your own plate or lend a hand. Oh and dad I spend the time I get after mum finally rests during the day to do some of your chores to cut down the amount of time you spend doing them in order for you to get a good night's rest and I go to sleep early in the morning just to wake up after 2 hours and do it all again. So I'm sorry that I had to go out, but I really needed it." After saying all that, I went up to my room and cried the whole night. The next morning I came downstairs at 10am to find my dad washing up and my mum on her phone, it was a quiet day, I thought my brother was in his room, then the we got heard that he had actually left in the morning to go visit my aunt who is a 30 minute drive from our house, where he spent the day hanging out with friends and cousins before coming back home at 6pm with my grandma who came to spend a week with us. My dad upon hearing the news that my brother was had left in the morning just shook his head and said that my brother should have stayed and lend a hand around the house, but after my brother got back I was hoping he'd get the same scolding my dad gave me, well that never happened. I went to my mum and asked her why wasn't daddy scolding my big brother and she did not say anything so I spoke up and said aloud, "wow, so I get a scolding for staying out for just 3 hours but he gets to stay out for an entire day without helping out around here and he gets welcomed home?" I then went to my room because I didn't want them to see the tears that started to fall, then it hit me when I was in my room crying, everything that happened over the years on how differently I was treated, my accomplishments my birthday's and even my sickness. It hit me how differently I was treated, my brother had big graduation foods prepared and his graduations were celebrated from primary all the way to high school and little courses while I just had a well done from my parents even after taking in prices since I was in elementary, thought they'd take me out to eat a celebratory lunch after my high school graduation because it was the hardest part of my life to pass but all I got was a disgusted look and a 'thats what your wearing?' after at my graduation after I took my gown off to take pictures. I can't remember the time I blew out candles for my birthday or when a party was thrown for me, but my brother somehow has a cake for most of his birthdays and he had a really big party once with four big cakes, a whole roasted pig, lots of food and even had all his friends invited. When i reaches the age of 14, the same age he was when my parents threw him a party, I thought I'd have the same too, but I didn't, and still had not one party until I turned 24. The day I turned 23, was a month after my mum got better, I spent the whole day cooking for everyone, was wished happy birthday after realising it was my birthday, I then told them I'd come down to eat later after I take a nap and that they should serve the food and leave mine on the dining table. I came down to find they ate most of the food, and I was only placed only a bit of food in my plate. I got mad and hit my plate on the table with just a little food spilling over, my dad saw this and screamed at me and told me that my future husband would beat me up and that my life will be miserable and bad because of what I did. Well you guessed it, I went back to my room crying, and that blade in my bag looked so tempting against my wrists. I also remember when my brother dropped out of college that I was blamed by my parents, with my dad telling me on my way back from the grocery store that I'm the reason my brother ended up like how he is because they show me too much favour growing up. And when my big brother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after dropping out of college after misuse of alcohol and drugs my mum religiously took to the internet to search for diets, information and everything to do with it until he became better and she continued doing so for every little sickness like flu, meanwhile my heart disease was never on her search list. She even signed up for YouTube videos and lessons on everything to do with my brother health, and mind you my heart disease was diagnosed 6 years before he got bipolar. I left for school after the holidays, still exhausted and stressed from the entire experience. My body had reached its lowest point, I could feel my heart was tired, I was ready to die in my bed in my dorm, I had made peace that if my heart passed out before while rest I'd be okay with it. That's third year of uni was hell for me, my body never really recovered, I kept getting sick, had malaria countless times as well as typhoid three times in a row the same year. The stress combined with with the state of my immunity caused me to be sent to various medical officers and clinics to get my blood samples and x-rays to find what was wrong with me, why after being treated and cured my body felt sick. They thought I had tuberculosis, others thought I had STI's but all tests came back negative, and mind you all these tests cost money and my parents weren't happy with what they were spending for me to get this tests. It came to a point when I called my mum to tell her that I feel really sick and I'm stressed with my assignments, only for her to say "you're always sick, everytime we call you're sick. Don't you know we're tired of this, stop trying to get sick!". I'm tired of getting sick too mum, I thought to myself as I got off the call and stared at the pile of medicine Infront of me prescribed by the doctor as well as my heart meds, and they were too much, my mum's words over the phone kept playing in my head I I got my the blade on my study table and pressed it into my left wrist lightly drew it over to cut the skin, the pain felt soothinf, calming even, then I wondered how it would feel if I placed the knife on my study table and fell on it to pierce my heart, would the pain feel good? Would the thoughts stop? Would mum stop complaining? Would they mis me? What would happen to my body? Then I thought better of it and wrote in my dairy ro stop myself from doing ealxactly that then I was distracted by my medicine Infront of me with thoughts of "they would never know if you take all these and overdose, it'll be a painless death." The remainder of third year continued like these, with sickness and suicide thoughts until I went for job internship at a company I've always wanted to work in and life was good because i didnt for home for the holidays and I spent the holidays at school in my little dorm room with friends who looked out for me. Then 2024 rolled around and I'm properly rested, no stress and I'm happy. That's is until a month ago when my parents bought me my ticket to go back home to see them for the holidays that I spiralled, I had completely locked those memories away, but after every phone call this past month I'm left a crying mess with flashes of words said and feelings felt during that time and I go back to thinking of suicide. I nearly commited suicide on the 16th of may, i was truly gonna go throught with it, I wanted to so bad if only I did not see the bible verses in front of me amd if my roommates hadn't come back early. But I know, if I do go home now, I might actually commit suicide, if something like what happened in the past happens again, or if they say another harsh word, I wouldn't think twice of dying, because I'm done, I truly am.

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

Text: Aadit is growing and becoming intelligent by the day and soon will become leader in his age group. (although there are a few grammatical errors in this sentence, keep in mind that my grandfather was a learned man who knew how to write and speak 4 languages fluently [Hindi, English, Punjabi, and Urdu])
I was wondering if someone could decipher any kinds of traits in my grandfather from his handwriting. He mostly lived in a different state and died when I was about 6-7 years old, so I never really got to know him at all.
From what I could tell, though, he was a proud Indian man, and must've been at least a little intelligent as he was an engineer.
I don't remember that many things about him, and what i do remember is limited to his love for English movies (Jackie chan, James bond, etc.), and the way he ate his omelette.
He seemed like a really cool guy, and there was so much that I could've learned from him. My brother(older by 2 1/2 years) learned how to play chess and solve sudokus from dadu(informal Hindi term for 'paternal grandfather's), but alas, I was too young to properly soak up any lessons from him.
All I have of him now is a box of pens that my dadi(Hindi term for 'paternal grandmother') gave me, and a box of cool erasers that he bought for me and my brother.
Hope that any of you have some insight on the matter and reply.

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

First/Previous
“How’d you think that was going to go?” asked a voice from the other side of the door.
I lay on the bunk and stared at the ceiling; my head throbbed. The place where I’d been grazed stung whenever I touched my fingers to it. A bullet had—by whoever’s grace—scraped my scalp and traced a line from the far corner of my right eyebrow. It'd only been three days and it still caused pain. No doctors came and I was certain there would be infection—if not plain infection, then it could always be the worser: skitterbugs. I ached still. I had never fully recovered, not like how I should have.
The day of anger, as I’d begun to think of it in my mind, had caused no great ruckus beyond a few dead men. Two were Bosses, but who knew if they’d announce that as casually as they’d surely announce my execution. Perhaps they’d string me up alongside thieves. A good thief and a bad. What a riot; I deserved no thieves, of course.
What was I? Some great hero? Some idiot was more likely. I wanted misery to befall those that perpetrated it themselves and there I was, more miserable. Perhaps the wrath in my heart came from some mutation; the demon Mephisto resurrected me (so said the demon) and I’d begun to accept it. It was the reason for my poor state, surely, and the more I thought on it, the more I believed it was true; it felt true right down to my bones. The truth hurt or it was age and I rose from the cot I lay on; I’d been detained in a room beside the one I’d visited Andrew many months prior. They’d starved me, rattled the door to try and frighten me, and they’d wasted water on my head to keep me from good sleep.
I did not respond to the voice from the other side of the door and the object rattled in its frame and the voice came again, this time angrier, “Really? How did you think that was going to go? Crazy bastard! Thought you’d put the hurt on the Bosses? Thought you’d kill us at our worst? First, it’s that explosion. You have something to do with that? No! First, it was Harold’s daughter running off!” The voice on the other side of the door grew with mirth as it did with anger. “I’d seen you around town a bit. Thought the Bosses always liked you. Huh. Boss Harold mentioned you at his parties and said how you were a smart fella’, a good fella’, and there you killed him. Stone cold.” The man which spoke was a jailor that tortured me in those dreamlike days I spent locked in their prison, and he seemed personally affronted. “So first it’s the explosions; steam or dust rose out of cracks in the ground you know—some thought hell was rising up, but the Bosses put those thoughts to bed. God, what’s it with the likes of you? The explosions and now I’ve lost an eye and its because of the skitterbugs. You probably brought that on!” The voice muttered and then the door shook in its frame again, seemingly from a hard kick. I wished I could see the face of the man throwing his tantrum. “Can’t wait to see you hang.”
“So, I’ll hang?” I asked the door. There was a long silence, and I was uncertain if I’d pitched my voice enough for the man on the other side to hear me. I opened my mouth to ask, “So-
“You’ll hang.” The man on other side seemed to knock his knuckles against the surface of the door. “Or you’ll die here.”
“What’s Maron said?”
“Don’t you worry about him.”
“What’s he said?”
“Said you’d probably appreciate the punishment that we’d put on you. Said you’re a sick man. Said you like speaking with devils and people like you only find pleasure in such things.”
“So, I won’t hang?”
“Oh, you’ll hang, sir. You’ll hang if I need to do it myself with no one else. If not that, I’ll be sure to put you under one way or another. Accidents happen.” He chuckled. “Maybe you’d enjoy it, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever enjoyment you find in your tortures won’t compare to what ideas I have.”
A long silence followed, and I watched dust motes dance in the air; the place was stagnant and even a breath caused a shift in their glide. I closed my eyes and tried to remember a better time. I thought of Suzanne. I thought of Gemma. What a time to be alive. I thought of the movies, the books, the musical cartridges that sung of yesteryears. How unlucky I’d been, of course. Something had changed in me though and it was totally refreshing. Perhaps it was in realizing the evils of my brothers was that of a man and not some otherworldly force, or perhaps it was a push that came from years of terrible inconsistencies. All that living in the past and so it was. It didn’t matter—the past. I’d been so busy with it that I’d been in a constant state of unliving. I’d known that always, of course—something new had come.
“You dozing off in there?” asked the jailor.
“Nah.”
“Good. Stay awake or I’ll be forced to stay you awake.”
I’d been reborn with a rage, justified or otherwise, and it was felt all over. It was a wild compulsion. All that time and it had been me that was brought back.
The wound on my head throbbed and I prodded it with a finger and brought the finger away and examined the digit; it was dried well enough, and I did not smell infection nor were there any of the accompanying symptoms of a fever or hallucination. I was me, through and through. For now.
The door banged. I didn’t bother an answer and the door banged again.
“Who’s there?” I asked, surprising myself with the sarcasm.
“Why’d you do it?” asked the jailor.
“You wanna’ ask me about it now?”
“Tell me.” The voice on the other side of the door was serious entirely.
“Bah!” “Bah to you! Why’d you do it?”
“Is there a reason to explain myself? If you knew better the things I knew, would it get you to unlock that door and let me walk free? Would it change your mind even?”
The jailor caught a laugh before responding. “Can’t say it would.”
“So, what’s it that you want? You won’t understand me, and I don’t think I’ve got the energies of persuasion to try.”
“Try.”
“You like the Bosses?”
“They’re okay. Keep me in work anyway. Keep people safe.” I slumped forward onto my knees where I sat and placed my elbows on my knees and watched the crack at the base of the door on the other side of the prison cell. “What’s it matter if they keep you in work? Think they care about you anymore than what you represent?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, you keep riffraff down and they like you for it. I wonder if they know you. You ever get invited to the feasts they hold at the hall? You ever worry about your water rations? You ever wonder why it is that so few of the women or men invited to the hall return? Children too, now that I think of it. They’d call those captured criminals, I know. Those brothers—the sheriff is to blame too—they’re bastards. You know they are.”
“Is that so? What’s that make me? A bastard too?”
“By proxy maybe.” I dryly chuckled. “What’s it matter? What do you want outta’ me anyhow? Some gratification? Some confession—you’ve gotten that already, ain’tcha? Maybe a repentance? Why don’t you call one of those Bosses on down from their throne and have them here on the other side of the door so I can apologize? Or call Lady and I’ll get her to channel some message to the afterlife and I’ll plead for forgiveness. That what you want? Now I’m a bad man and I know it, but it ain’t for the reasons you believe. What you want is belief that there’s a man under the skin of the monster you’ve projected? No, I won’t shoo away your boogeyman for you. It can’t be done, not from me.”
“You talk big for someone in your predicament. I like how you talk so holier. Like you’re talking down on me. I just wanted to know what made you want to go on a mad-killing spree the way you did.”
“Mm.” I cupped my hands together; as it was, my left knee shot off with pain and I tried to massage it to little comfort and stretched it out straight from my body. “When violence keeps you bound, violence is necessary to free yourself. That’s all I’ll say about it. If you hang me, then hang me. Spill my guts out for the birds and put a sack over my head so you won’t be sick by my face.”
“You’re a mouthy pig.”
I listened to the jailor’s footfalls disappear down the hall and finally it was totally quiet and all I could hear was the throb on my head. Lucky or unlucky? No, it wasn’t luck. I’d been marked. I was the payment, and I knew the price. The demon had my soul. Whatever protection it afforded me, I intended on using.
The image of that room continued over in my mind, with the peasantry (that’s what I saw them as then) knelt in front of the Bosses and the wall men, with the intense blood-smell, with the surprise on Maron’s face. Billy’s face. There was still a part of me, however small, that wanted to plead with him to change his ways. That wasn’t the part that welled up in me then though. The piece of me that wanted to see him die was what took over. It hadn’t been Maron that fired his gun; he’d still been fighting with his holster. I’d only taken a step in through the door and a spray of gunfire from one of the wall men’s rifles exploded and I was sure I was dead because I fell, and my vision went white. They should’ve put me down then.
I didn’t come too fully until I had a few goons on me, hauling me upright roughly under my arms. Maron didn’t say anything at first and those wall men took over; they shouted that I was alive still and I felt a hot gun barrel against my cheek.
“Stop!” shouted Maron. The Boss Sheriff stepped forward with his stilted gait and looked me over thoroughly. The gun barrel fell from my cheek, but they held me still; it wasn’t like I planned on fighting. “You got uglier,” said Boss Maron, “Really ugly.” His left eye, afflicted by the skitterbug infestation, had gone dead white with only the faintest trace of an iris; it dribbled pus.
I held his stare to the point that my eyes watered—whether from anger or sorrow or both—and my muscles tightened like an animal threatening to pounce. It was a ridiculous display.
“Lock him up,” said Boss Maron.
So, I was locked up and those uncounted days I was mildly tortured: sleep deprivation, pummeling, and sometimes they spit on me. It could have been worse. I’d seen worse.
The cell was numbingly quiet, and I continued to massage my knee, continued in thinking about how investing so much thought with the past twisted any future of mine into a dismal satire.
I could not tell how long it had been without sunlight and the jailor returned (he was bulbous and fattened and old but very strong—it could be sensed in how he carried himself) pushed through the door this time with a tray of diced potatoes, steamed but cold, and a metal cup of water. He sat them on the floor, stared at the tray there with his one good left eye, and it was like I could read his mind as he looked at the food there. He could destroy it; he jerked from the tray without saying a word to me then disappeared behind the door he closed. The jailor remained there outside.
Pride swelled in me momentarily before I pushed whatever silliness that was and devoured the food and drank the clear water. If it was poison, so be it. If it was poison, then all the problems of the world would disperse.
Again, the jailor pushed in through the door and bent to remove the tray and I was struck by the immediate thought of strangling him. So, I tried and threw myself at the man.
My hands felt the scruff around his throat, and I pressed hard with my fingers on his Adams apple. He’d lurched forward to lift the tray and he immediately came up with force, throwing me off him; my nails raked his cheek as I scrambled for purchase. He took the metal tray in both of his hands and thwapped me across the head—it rang, and I was stunned while he lifted back his right hand in a swing. In the dizziness, I momentarily caught a glimpse of the holster on his left hip and reached out dumbly for the revolver there. A meaty smack could be heard, and I didn’t even feel it when his fist met my face the second time. My head rocked and I fought to look upright, and his hand came again, and I put up my own hand in return; it was pushed away, and he continued at me, muttering epithets he found useful.
Once he was heaving and spitting, he left me on the cot and directly before slamming the door, he mentioned something about violence and how if I liked violence so much that he’d show it to me.
I nursed myself to sitting right-up and though adrenaline kept the pain away, I felt my face bruising already. There was no way for me to inspect the welts his hands had left, but I could guess their places by touch and how they thrummed with my heart.
Two days passed, if I counted them by the visits from the jailor and then Maron made his appearance to me, and I was surprised to see him with a leather eye patch over his left eye; he seemed ill on his feet and the jailor, though the man was there, did not move to stop Maron from entering the room and relieving me of my prison. He and the jailor roped my hands together in front of my pelvis and I didn’t fight.
Boss Maron stank of infection and yellow oozed from beneath his eye patch and he kept his cowboy hat pulled snugly over both his ears and did not speak so jovially—there were no crude jokes at my expense. A warmth radiated off him. The Boss carried my shotgun with him but made no remark on it. He marched me from the prison, and I met daylight, and it burned my eyes while I stared up into the reddish sky. Dust scattered from the nearest portion of wall and caught on the wind till it was carried and disappeared overhead, and I briefly thought how nice it must be to fly.
Golgotha stirred as ever, and people spoke loudly and candidly as I passed them by. Words came my way from passing faces like, “You kissed the devil’s ass!” or, “You sure are a monster, look at you!” and Maron pushed me on with the gun at my back, and I wavered on my legs like I was without any control.
“Is it true?” asked Boss Maron, “Did you kiss the devil’s ass?” He tilted the shotgun casually on his shoulder and kept me ahead of himself. He was taking me to hang—and making a big deal out of it too. “I know how you like to speak to them. The demons. I know how you conspire with them. I told them all how you do. Now they know I was right.”
What a rotten town it was, and it smelled like it. The atrophied muscles and diseased infections of those fine folks emanated in the air, flies buzzed around my head, bloated and doubtlessly happy from whatever corpse they’d sprung from.
“Say somethin’,” said Maron.
“What do you want?” I asked, watching my footfalls, ignoring the screeches of those on the sidelines; he marched me through the runways, past the onlookers which saw me with faces of twisted hatred. The tension was palpable—I could feel the venom off the eyes of those that watched. Blood red eyes which judged carelessly.
“I want you to say it,” said Maron; I felt the nudge of the shotgun at my back again and I stumbled forward, caught myself, carried on, “I want you to admit it to me. You’re like a mutant, ain’tcha? No better than any other monster. I knew it all them years. I seen it.” We took an alley and cretins followed behind; wall men flanked Maron and on either side of the narrow stretch there were faces made even with the wall, pressed there like they were afraid to be involved.
“Whatever you say, brother.”
“Don’t,” hissed Maron, “Don’t even.”
“What?” I spat the word, “Afraid they’ll treat you differently if they all know how close we are?” I felt the gun barrel press against my back, and I yelped out the words, “Hey! He’s my brother! My baby brother!” The barrel jabbed me in the spine, and I spilled forward, catching myself on one of those nearby faces. It was an old woman. She shoved me from her, and I flailed across the ground after trying to catch myself with my bound hands. Dirt met my face and exploded around me. I laughed, blinking through the dust. I spit too. He couldn’t kill me. Whatever black magic there was in me—bequeathed by Mephisto—refused me death. Maron lifted me with the help of his wall men, pinching the coat around my throat with his fist. He shoved me on, and we continued.
“You smell that?” I asked Maron.
“Stop talkin’. You might not be a man, but you’ll die like one,” he said. The wall men around muttered, and we took the way to the front square; already there were looky-loos gathered, throngs of them not at all bashful to see the day’s line-up—it was just me. The platform was emptier and that was good (Frank, Paul, and Matt looked naked without their eldest brother). Those Bosses which remained looked drunk as they did for any other execution. It was a good day for it. Warm. The stink of the crowd was worse and as those gathered parted for my entourage, the warmth of them cloistered us like the blood of a wound.
Even through the vile aroma, the smell of rotted poultry rose like nothing else. “You don’t smell it then?”
The roar, a cacophony of the damned souls stolen, shook the ground and the air changed. A dragon—Leviathan.
Along the wall which old skeletal corpses hung against dried blood stains from hook-chains, men and women scattered the length of the parapets with their weapons. Gunfire came and one of those atop the wall shouted, “Artillery! Dragon! Big guns!”
There was fire in the sky and the creature circled overhead and its wings beat the wind like mad; those organic ropes that hung from its body took on horrid shapes with its movement in the high noon sunlight.
Screams filled the air as the square erupted into panic. I dove into the sickly crowd; among the loudness, the horses which were lined by the big door fought against their ties and bolted across the square. Arms and heads disappeared beneath those dashing hooves, and it was not long before people were trampling people and in a quick glance I saw the Boss platform came down in splinters as the horses rushes it. Blood slickened the feet of many as they rushed to the buildings adjacent the square—what a small protection that’d be against Leviathan. A wall man went stumbling over the wall’s ledge and his body met the ground beneath the hanging corpses and he didn’t get up.
In the wild fray, Maron fired the shotgun into the air, and I briefly thought of where the pellets might fall.
Finally, artillery fire came and put a hole in the creature. It wavered in the air, its head lurched downward like it might pierce the ground and it pulled its long neck back and blew flames across the buildings. The heat was immaculate. Rotted chicken filled my lungs.
“There’s more!” shouted a wall man above, “Running across the field.”
The crowd grew more enamored with escape; there’s no good way to say it—blood frothed around our heels as I was shoved through the avenues of elbows, rocking heads, plunging knees. I pushed on, shielding myself with my bound hands as well as I could. I kept my head as high, and felt scratches reach my throat—doubtlessly those which could not continue—nails and fists came from every direction. In the ephemeral madness, I too screamed and it did not stop until I spilled into an alleyway along the wall nearest the execution chains. I ran and tripped from the crowd, slid, and bit my tongue so thoroughly that my teeth clicked together though the tissue; my breath was knocked from me. My pants were wet from the viscera. Others too had found the opening and barreled past me. I went to my feet and panted thought the pain, through the twinge in my left knee. I took the walls for support and still, those which rushed past nearly knocked me from my feet.
Some poor child—a lean, bony-faced boy—fell in the rush and before I had a moment to reach out, he was gone. Whether he lived or not, I did not stop to know. The crunch of bones as more people spilled into the narrow stretch indicated the worst.
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Good afternoon, I want to share with you a very interesting theory that a Japanese man made in a video and I made a translation of it so I could share it with you.

1. About Olga Marie

From the materials of Lord el melloi case files it is known that the full name of our director is Olga Marie Earthmirate animusphere, where Earthmirate is a word meaning "assimilated to the earth" while Animusphere is a word meaning "heavenly soul".
And what does Olga Marie mean?
Olga Marie can be translated as the perfect and immaculate mother. In other words, the name Olga Marie means assimilation with the soul of the celestial body.
In other words, it is possible that "Olga Marie Earthmirate Animusphere" has the meaning of "a perfect virgin who assimilates the souls of the heavenly bodies".

1. Cagliostro and the animusphere theory

Let's remember that in order call 2 we had the revelation of the last apostle of the alien world called Count Cagliostro who was involved in awakening the fragments of the false Alien god (U Olga Marie), now let's remember some of his dialogues in this chapter of the story:
"There was no other way to steal the attention of that huge mechanism." "In that case, it would be nice if you could show your determination in front of that giant mechanism!"
Cagliostro, the last alien apostle to appear in Order call II, often used the term "that giant mech" in the story, now I don't know what Cagliostro refers to as the "giant mech" but I believe it is "Chaldeas", the celestial human security sphere of Animusphere.

According to the Chaldea chronology of the "MOONLIGHT/LOSTROOM material", the first prototype of the Chaldeas global environment model was completed in 1990, where in fact "1990" It is a period that has great significance besides the completion of Chaldeas as there was the Seraphix oil platform, this is a marine oil field owned by the Animusphere family and this facility was built in the North Sea in 1990.
This base is one of the sources of funding that determines Chaldea's operating budget and at the same time is treated as an independent department, so all personnel belong to Chaldea, where the entire facility is a semi-submersible mobile platform, managed and operated by more than 100 people working day and night shifts, apparently the base was intended to extract oil, but in reality it was not only used to search for spiritual lines.
It was a facility created to conduct a certain experiment based on Animusphere's philosophy of "continuous humanity", the development of a large cooling system was the raison d'être and ultimate goal of Seraphix, Apart from that, there is a hidden side inside the underwater facility that protects against magical attacks, only Seraphix are allowed to use that hidden side, in other words, only those under direct control of Animusphere are allowed.
This was to keep the Animusphere's plans secret from other Lords and also because the conditions necessary for the experiment were only available at the bottom of the ocean, this is also because the only condition necessary for the experiment was the review. First of all, the human safety of the Animusphere requires that the test of the preservation of the hypothesis be established immediately.
First, the human security of Animusphere required that these three principles, "hypothesis", "preservation" and "test" be met at the same time, Once completed, it was said that it would provide the complete human security that Marisbilly desired and in 1990 an offshore oil base was built.
With the start of the Seraphix operation, experiments began for communication between the earth and the "soul".

What is a spirit line?
A spirit line is a carefully selected magical power that flows through various parts of the earth and people with certain talents. The Seraphix people search for spirit lines under the guise of drilling for oil, but why did Seraphix have a secret facility where they searched for spirit lines under the guise of drilling for oil?

In the early stages of their experiment, they tried to use the spiritual connections between Earth and humans to understand each other's minds and become "friends" with the planet. In constructing the pseudo-spiritual space, the researchers placed subjects in a spiritual chamber.
It is mentioned that many of the people who were used were Master Candidates sent from Chaldea and although Animusphere had prepared to select the Masters in due time, it was a difficult choice as research was a prerequisite for the continuation of humanity, Thus by sacrificing a large number of Master Candidates, the experiment began with a "dialogue" between Earth and humans.
However it was difficult to have a conversation with the experimental team so these Masters were consumed where they continued to store their potential as masters in coffins with the facility to throw their lives away, for the sole purpose of securing humanity. However it is recorded that they requested specimens with a higher aptitude than Team B... and that they were quite unreasonable during development.
As a result of repeated experiments so inhumane, the research was completed in only five years.

"All preparations have been completed. The purpose of the Seraphix facility is to develop a super-large concept that will serve as the gold standard for human safety for Animusphere."

It is estimated that more than 100 qualified people were sacrificed for Reyshift, but first, this idea made Animusphere's complete human assurance a reality.
Secondly, the three principles of human security, "hypothesis", "preservation" and "proof", coincide with the characteristics of the "lostbelt" of which Ophelia spoke.
From the above factors, it was necessary to communicate and dialogue with the Earth in order to develop this great idea where we can speculate that the idea developed in Seraphix is Chaldeas, which is a model of global environment and a celestial sphere of human security.

1. Chaldeas

So far, in various materials The "Chaldean Global Environmental Model" has been explained as follows: A magical celestial body that copied the soul of the Earth, Planets were supposed to have souls too, and by copying that soul it was possible to create a world 100 years in the future.
However it is impossible to create something exactly like earth from scratch but I thought it would be possible to copy that soul in its entirety and put it into practice, well according to the Seraphix manga they were actually witnessing and communicating with Earth's soul, in other words, Chaldeas, which is truly a pseudo celestial body of Earth, is believed to have the same mechanism (system) as Earth.

1. Olga Marie quest 2 revelations

If I had to express it, it would mean that Chaldeas also needs a system to control and eliminate all "evil", An answer to this speculation was revealed in the recently released "Olga Marie Quest 2.

Da Vinci: We thought that the "alien god" was an intelligent life form from another dimension that had come from space. But now it is different, we know that the "alien planet" is Chaldeas.
Da Vinci: This blank Earth is not our Earth it belongs to Chaldeas, an "alien planet" but we still don't know the purpose of why they were replaced, or rather why they were replaced, but there are some things that are clear, When you appeared on Olympus you said: "The ruler who manages humanity". Da Vinci: You also said "I heard the cries of my brothers". In your words and actions, you had a firm mission to "rule this planet."
Da Vinci: The "alien god" is the system that controls Chaldeas, Olga Marie animusphere you are not an "unfortunate earthling" who was accidentally chosen as a catalyst by an "alien god" Without you, the "alien god" could not function, You were part of Chaldeas from the beginning.
Da Vinci: You are indeed a system that came from a "different planet" called Chaldeas, but you are also a human being from Earth itself, you are definitely not an extraterrestrial, it's just some kind of mistake, isn't that what they make you believe?
E Olga: Well, that is correct. I admit that I am Chaldeas main system but that's 30 points, I can't give you a medal.

With this new fact, it has been confirmed that the alien god is the main system of Chaldeas therefore due to this new fact, the results presented in previous works related to Fate can be found in "The Four Mysteries of Olga Marie".

1. The four mysteries of Olga Marie

Olga Marie's birthday was written as unknown. In the past material books, even homunculi, which are artificial life forms, have birthdays which makes this mystery more disturbing.
Servants are the only ones whose birthdays are marked as unknown on their birthdays in the material ones. For this reason, Olga Marie may not know her birthday because she is not the biological daughter of marisbury, or maybe her birthday doesn't even exist in the first place.
The second point is that the quantity of Orga Marie's magic circuits is different between the "Fate stay night" and "FGO world", In the FGO world, in the sixth section of singularity F cassniki praised her saying that "the quantity and quality of magic circuits are top-notch" but in the case files material, which is the same world as "Fate/stay night", it is said that the quantity of Olga Marie's magic circuits is "E-".
Unlike magic seals, which are passed down from generation to generation of magicians, the number of magic circuits is fixed at birth and it is difficult to multiply them favorably, in other words, it is absolutely impossible for the amount of magic circuits to increase with growth, For the amount of Orga Marie's magic circuit, "E-" in the SN world is the original value and in the FGO world, it is believed to have been adjusted for some reason.
Related to this, in the Case Files world it is said that Olga Marie was abandoned by Marisbury and in the Stay Night world, the big difference between the SN world and the FGO world is the question of whether the Holy Grail of Fuyuki is contaminated or not. Going further, in the SN world, Chaldeas could not be activated, but in the FGO world, due to the huge amount of wealth obtained, Chaldeas was successfully activated.
In other words, since Chaldeas could not be activated in the SN world, the alien's main system, Orga Marie, was also not needed. On the other hand, in the FGO world, since Chaldeas was successfully activated, Orga Marie was needed as the planet's control device therefore, the amount of magic circuits in the FGO world's Orga Marie must have been adjusted to one of the first level.
And the fourth and final mystery was the case that Olga Marie's Rayshift aptitude was "0%".

Lev lainur: Look, you didn't have Rayshifting aptitude when you were alive, right? You can't transfer while the body is still present.
Considering Professor Lev's statement in singularity F, Rayshift aptitude seems to be a value that depends on the individual's physical body, the fact that she has no Rayshift aptitude may also mean that Olga Marie's body is not normal.
After a while, it became clear that the reason for this was that Olga Marie was part of the Alien god system. In other words, she was part of Chaldeas' brain group from the beginning.
I mean, from the beginning she was expected to play the role of Chaldeas' "brain body".

1. Archetype

there are two beings that have played the role of "brain body" one of them is Arcueid, she is a being called the True Ancestor.
And what is her true nature?
It is the touch of an independent star that benefits humans rather than Earth, so it is backed by stars.
What are the limits of his activities?
In other words, it is said to be the limit of the natural world itself. Furthermore, if we consider the earth as a living organism, the element is the immune function of the earth itself.
If we think of the earth as a single living organism, the True Ancestor is the immune function of the earth itself, and we see it as a factor that should exterminate humans who take advantage of nature.
The privilege granted only to the True Ancestor, which is the tactile sense of the earth, is the ability called "event storage".
The storage of events is an ability granted only to the True Ancestor, which is the tactile sense of the stars. It stores conceptually and physically everything that grows on the surface of the planet. That is, all creations and textures generated on the surface of the planet will be confiscated.
This is a function that the planet has, and it is mentioned in the Tsukihime material that it is closer to a system than an ability, so it is probably that of Earth. It is likely that the "alien planets" that are copies of Earth also have similar systems.
Regarding this speculation, In an interview with Weekly Famitsu, Kinoko Nasu said: The "storage of events'' performed by the Arcueid light body and the "bleaching of Earth" carried out by an alien planet were "the same thing".
In other words, it turns out that the "alien planet" has the same "event storage" system as Earth, and that the bleaching of Earth was caused by this system.
And the brain body of another star is Princess Karuko, who appeared in a play called tsuki no sango.
"This is the Earth, which has celebrated 3,000 years since its birth. In this world, Earth has achieved advanced civilization growth, but humans have lost the desire to reproduce and is facing a crisis for survival."
In the midst of this, some people who felt a sense of crisis at the possibility of human extinction established an organization called the "Human Reconstruction Committee" and began research on baby design. On the other hand, due to the development of science and the saturation of the terrestrial population, there were also humans who took off from the mother planet and migrated to the moon. However, when the Earthlings began to decline, communication between Earth and the Moon ceased, and a few decades later, the same humans who had migrated to the Moon disappeared.
However, even after humans disappeared from the moon, there was one person who continued to live on the surface of the moon, Her name is the moon girl. A manifestation of the will of the Moon created by the human race to ensure the existence of the Moon and produce the necessary resources. In general, she is the "will" and "mind" of the Moon itself.
In short, she was expected to serve as the "brain and body of the moon" where she not only provided elements to adjust the moon's environment, but also freely modified the star's landmarks, such as creating a forest.

1. Final

On their "stellar brain bodies" The second part of Chapter 7 of Part 2 provides the following explanation.
Da Vinci: Ah, the inner sea of a star is the "place of the heart" which is said to always exist when a planet is treated as a living organism. On the other hand, there is a spirit that says, "This is the only thing that can be born in the inner sea of a star." It is a special spirit called ''brain body of a star. ''
Da Vinci: In the world of magic this is called archetype.
So if Arcueid is the archetype of the earth, the moon girl is the archetype of the moon then U Olga is the archetype of chaldeas. Arcueid can store events on Earth, and the alien planet has a similar system and they have managed to turn the Earth white and the moon girl is like them as she is freely rewriting the laws of physics established on the surface of the moon according to her own will.
From this arises the archetype each of them has the authority to freely operate the planet to which they belong. In other words, would it not be possible for an "alien star" to not only "bleach the surface of the Earth" but also "rewrite the laws of physics" on the Earth.
This is probably the reason why the Earth and the surface of Chaldeas were exchanged when the Earth became white, The "alien god" can only interfere with the surface of Chaldeas; it cannot interfere with the matter and laws of the earth, That is why the "Alien god " first erased the Earth of Chaldeas and replaced it with the texture of the Earth, as a result, the texture of the earth is currently "in Chaldeas" The "alien god" will be able to compile the human principles at will.
That is why Marisbilly considers an "alien" system as it sought Orga Marie as an "alien brain body" to "compile humanity," In other words, Olga Marie is just like the moon girl She was created as an input device to efficiently operate the planet Chaldeas.
Video link: https://youtu.be/Ez-_RJzsuS4?feature=shared

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

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

1. In John 3:16, who is God, and who is his one and only son?

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

1. Who created all things? John 1:1-3

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.

1. Did Christ exist after he was born in this world, or he has always been, and it is through him that all humans exist? John 8:48-58

48 The Jews answered him, “Aren’t we right in saying that you are a
Samaritan and demon-possessed?”
49 “I am not possessed by a demon,” said Jesus, “but I honor my
Father and you dishonor me. 50 I am not seeking glory for myself;
but there is one who seeks it, and he is the judge. 51 Very truly I
tell you, whoever obeys my word will never see death.”
52 At this they exclaimed, “Now we know that you are demon-possessed!
Abraham died and so did the prophets, yet you say that whoever obeys
your word will never taste death. 53 Are you greater than our father
Abraham? He died, and so did the prophets. Who do you think you are?”
54 Jesus replied, “If I glorify myself, my glory means nothing. My
Father, whom you claim as your God, is the one who glorifies me. 55
Though you do not know him, I know him. If I said I did not, I would
be a liar like you, but I do know him and obey his word. 56 Your
father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it
and was glad.”
57 “You are not yet fifty years old,” they said to him, “and you have
seen Abraham!”
58 “Very truly I tell you,” Jesus answered, “before Abraham was
born, I am!”

1. Is Christ God?
   
2. Did Christ come into the world as a man, doing God's will, or as God? John 14:10
   

10 Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work.

1. Did Christ go through the various stages and challenges of life as a man or as God?
   
2. From his childhood, did Christ know that he was God? Mark 10:17-18
   

17 As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his
knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to
inherit eternal life?”
18 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except
God alone.

1. Did Christ learn about the Father, and start his fellowship with the Father the same way as every other human would have, by going to Sunday school, studying the scriptures, and doing the will of the Father, until he and the Father had become one?

Luke 2:46
After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions.
Luke 2:52
“And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.”

1. Who confirmed Jesus Christ as a true child of God, when his will and the Father's will had become one, after doing God's will for a long time? Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John.
14 But John tried to deter him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you,
and do you come to me?”
15 Jesus replied, “Let it be so now; it is proper for us to do this
to fulfill all righteousness.” Then John consented.
16 As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that
moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending
like a dove and alighting on him. 17 And a voice from heaven said,
“This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”

1. Will you also receive a confirmation from the Father in your spirit when your will and the Father's will have become one after doing his will for some time?
   
2. In John 10:10, who is the thief, what does he want, and what does Christ want for every human?
   

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

1. Who gave you life?
   
2. If Satan can make you turn against your Father in Heaven has he stolen you from him?
   
3. In what ways does Satan try to destroy the children of God?
   
4. Will Satan try to kill you if all his attempts fail?
   
5. In what way did Christ expect people to know who he was? John 10:24-25
   

24 The Jews who were there gathered around him, saying, “How long
will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us
plainly.”
25 Jesus answered, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The
works I do in my Father’s name testify about me,

1. Are you *something* because of what you do every day, or what you say that you are?
   
2. How is Christ the way to the Father? John 14:4-6
   

4 You know the way to the place where I am going.” 5 Thomas said to
him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the
way?”
6 Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No
one comes to the Father except through me.

1. What examples did Christ *do* and *teach* humans as the way to become like Christ? (Read the Gospels)
   
2. Can you believe in Christ without practicing his teachings?
   
3. Which examples of Christ are you following now?
   
4. Was Christ willing to forgive the people who had tortured him and hanged him on the cross to die? Luke 23:34
   

34 Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

1. Which character and mind will be formed in you when you believe in Christ by acting on his word?
   
2. How can Christ be formed in you?
   
3. When you blow air into a balloon and place it on a bucket of water will it float or will it sink?
   
4. When you press the balloon to the bottom of the bucket and you leave it what will happen to the balloon?
   
5. In John 11:20-26, how is Christ the resurrection and the life?
   

20 When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him,
but Mary stayed at home.
21 “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother
would not have died. 22 But I know that even now God will give you
whatever you ask.”
23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”
24 Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at
the last day.”
25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one
who believes in me will live, even though they die; 26 and whoever
lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

1. When you do not have the character and mind of Christ can you be resurrected?
   
2. In what way is a person who has become like Christ, like a balloon?
   
3. Through Christ, should there be other Christs?
   
4. Does Christ's resurrection teach humans that when a man has formed Christ in them, they are *capable* of being resurrected, and that resurrection is *possible*?
   
5. Did Christ wish to go through the suffering on the cross, or he went through it because it was the Father's will?
   

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”

1. Are you also willing to do the Father's will even when it does not make you happy?
   
2. Did the people of his day find it easy to accept the teachings of Christ, including the disciples?
   
3. Did the disciples believe that Christ would resurrect after his death on the cross? John 20:24-29
   

24 Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not
with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told
him, “We have seen the Lord!”
But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put
my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will
not believe.”
26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was
with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among
them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas,
“Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it
into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”
28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed;
blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

1. Did Christ know that for the people to truly believe him he had to give them a sign? Matthew 12:38-39

38 Then some of the Pharisees and teachers of the law said to him,
“Teacher, we want to see a sign from you.”
39 He answered, “A wicked and adulterous generation asks for a sign!
But none will be given it except the sign of the prophet Jonah.

1. What sign would he give them to make them believe?
   
2. If Christ had not died in public, would his resurrection have meant anything to the people of his day?
   
3. If Christ had not resurrected from the dead, would his message have taken deeper roots in the hearts of the people, making them believe that all that he said was true? John 11:25
   

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die;

1. When the people believed him after his resurrection were they willing to spread the message to other towns and even die while doing so?
   
2. In what way did the Father use Christ's public humiliation and death on the cross to make Christ's message take deeper roots in the hearts of men after his resurrection, to the point where they were willing to die for it?
   
3. Did the Father use what the Devil had planned for evil, for good, by letting Christ go through public humiliation and death, or did the Father plan to have Christ crucified all along?
   
4. Can humans enter God's kingdom and be saved from darkness if only they will believe in Christ's teachings?
   
5. If the price to pay for Christ's message to be accepted by the people was death by the cross, and later resurrection, was Christ willing to do what it would take by paying the price?
   
6. Did the Father pay the price by giving his very best, his only begotten son?
   
7. Does the Father allowing Christ to go through so much suffering teach humans how far he is willing to go to rescue even the most stubborn human from darkness?
   
8. Does Christ humbling himself even unto death, teach humans how far we must be willing to go to do God's will?
   
9. Can the problem of humans living in darkness, and dying because of it, be solved?
   
10. Is there a price to pay to solve it?
    
11. Are you willing to pay the price?
    
12. Did Christ come to replace the laws of the prophets, or improve upon them and give them their full meaning?
    

Matthew 5:33-37
33 “Again, you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not break your oath, but fulfill to the Lord the vows you have made.’ 34 But I tell you, do not swear an oath at all: either by heaven, for it is God’s throne; 35 or by the earth, for it is his footstool; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. 36 And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black. 37 All you need to say is simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.
Matthew 5:38-39
38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ 39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.
Matthew 19:8-11
8 Jesus replied, “Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning. 9 I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another woman commits adultery.”
Matthew 5:43-46
43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. 46 If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?
Matthew 5:27-28
27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ 28 But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.
Matthew 5:17
Don't suppose I came to do away with the Law and the Prophets. I did not come to do away with them, but to give them their full meaning.

1. Does following Christ's teachings mean that you no longer have to obey the law? Matthew 5:19

Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.

1. Can you become perfect by following laws alone?
   
2. What is the reason for your answer?
   
3. Do the laws of God cover every aspect of human living and behavior?
   
4. Can you become perfect by following the laws of God and Christ who by taking on human nature also understands you and knows how to deal with the things that stop you from becoming perfect? Matthew 5:20
   

For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven.

1. Did Christ come to start a new religion named after him, or to establish the kingdom of God on earth?
   
2. Where is the kingdom of God on earth? Luke 17:20-21
   

20 And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God
should come, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not
with observation:
21 Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the
kingdom of God is within you.

1. How do you enter God's kingdom?
   
2. Can you enter God's kingdom without submitting yourself to God, daily? Luke 22:42
   

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”

1. Did the Jews accept or reject Christ's teachings? John 10:20-21

20 Many of them said, “He is demon-possessed and raving mad. Why
listen to him?”
21 But others said, “These are not the sayings of a man possessed by a
demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”

1. What would happen to Jerusalem shortly after Christ had been taken up into Heaven? Luke 19:41-44

41 As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it 42 and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. 43 The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. 44 They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God’s coming to you.”

1. When Christ was about to be crucified, and the women wept for him, why did he say to them "Weep for yourselves"? Luke 23:27-28

27 A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. 28 Jesus turned and said to them, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children.

1. What happened to Jerusalem shortly after Christ had been taken up into Heaven?
   
2. If the Jews had accepted Christ's message would the Romans have destroyed their cities and temples and killed so many of them?
   
3. If all men accept God as their Father, will they treat each other as brothers and sisters, or as foreigners and enemies? John 4:7-9
   

7 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will
you give me a drink?” 8 (His disciples had gone into the town to buy
food.)
9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan
woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate
with Samaritans.)

1. If all men accept each other as brothers and sisters, will they continue to fight each other or allow the peace of God to reign on earth?
   
2. What is a parable?
   
3. What is the parable of the tenants? Luke 20:9-19
   

9 He went on to tell the people this parable: “A man planted a
vineyard, rented it to some farmers and went away for a long time.
10 At harvest time he sent a servant to the tenants so they would give
him some of the fruit of the vineyard. But the tenants beat him and
sent him away empty-handed. 11 He sent another servant, but that one
also they beat and treated shamefully and sent away empty-handed. 12
He sent still a third, and they wounded him and threw him out.
13 “Then the owner of the vineyard said, ‘What shall I do? I will send
my son, whom I love; perhaps they will respect him.’
14 “But when the tenants saw him, they talked the matter over. ‘This
is the heir,’ they said. ‘Let’s kill him, and the inheritance will be
ours.’ 15 So they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.
“What then will the owner of the vineyard do to them? 16 He will come
and kill those tenants and give the vineyard to others.”
When the people heard this, they said, “God forbid!”
17 Jesus looked directly at them and asked, “Then what is the meaning
of that which is written:
“‘The stone the builders rejected has become the
cornerstone’?
18 Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces; anyone
on whom it falls will be crushed.”
19 The teachers of the law and the chief priests looked for a way to
arrest him immediately, because they knew he had spoken this parable
against them. But they were afraid of the people.

1. What does the vineyard represent in the parable?
   
2. Who is the owner of the vineyard?
   
3. Who are the tenants? Matthew 23:29-35
   

29 “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You
build tombs for the prophets and decorate the graves of the
righteous. 30 And you say, ‘If we had lived in the days of our
ancestors, we would not have taken part with them in shedding the
blood of the prophets.’ 31 So you testify against yourselves that you
are the descendants of those who murdered the prophets. 32 Go ahead,
then, and complete what your ancestors started!
33 “You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being
condemned to hell? 34 Therefore I am sending you prophets and sages
and teachers. Some of them you will kill and crucify; others you will
flog in your synagogues and pursue from town to town. 35 And so upon
you will come all the righteous blood that has been shed on earth,
from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah son of
Berekiah, whom you murdered between the temple and the altar.

1. In what ways did the tenants beat and treat the servants shamefully?
   
2. What is the fruit of the vineyard?
   
3. Who were the servants sent to the vineyard to collect the fruits of the vineyard?
   
4. Who was the son sent to collect the vineyard's fruits?
   
5. Did Christ come into the world to be humiliated and killed or to draw men into the Father's kingdom by his teachings and lifestyle?
   
6. Was Christ sacrificed or betrayed and murdered? Acts 7:52-53
   

52 Was there any prophet that your ancestors did not persecute? They killed God's messengers, who long ago announced the coming of his righteous Servant. And now you have betrayed and murdered him. 53 You are the ones who received God's law, that was handed down by angels—yet you have not obeyed it!”

1. What is the harvest, and who are the laborers? Matthew 9:35-38

35 And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; 38 therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

1. Was Christ able to forgive sins before he was crucified? Matthew 9:2-7

2 Some men brought to him a paralyzed man, lying on a mat. When Jesus
saw their faith, he said to the man, “Take heart, son; your sins
are forgiven.”
3 At this, some of the teachers of the law said to themselves, “This
fellow is blaspheming!”
4 Knowing their thoughts, Jesus said, “Why do you entertain evil
thoughts in your hearts? 5 Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are
forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? 6 But I want you to know
that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he
said to the paralyzed man, “Get up, take your mat and go home.” 7
Then the man got up and went home.

1. Did humans have to spill the blood of Christ to be forgiven of their sins?
   
2. In what way does Christ take away the sin of the world? John 1:29
   

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!

1. In what way did Christ fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah in Isaiah 53:4? Matthew 8:14-17

14 When Jesus came into Peter’s house, he saw Peter’s mother-in-law
lying in bed with a fever. 15 He touched her hand and the fever left
her, and she got up and began to wait on him.
16 When evening came, many who were demon-possessed were brought to
him, and he drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick.
17 This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah:
“He took up our infirmities and bore our diseases.”

1. What is the story of the woman caught in adultery? John 8:1-11

8 1 but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
2 At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people
gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3 The teachers of
the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They
made her stand before the group 4 and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this
woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5 In the Law Moses commanded
us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6 They were using this
question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his
finger. 7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and
said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to
throw a stone at her.” 8 Again he stooped down and wrote on the
ground.
9 At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older
ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing
there. 10 Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they?
Has no one condemned you?”
11 “No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave
your life of sin.”

1. Was it possible for humans to stop sinning before Christ was crucified? John 8:11
   
2. How do you stop sinning?
   
3. Was Christ able to teach all that he wanted to before he was taken up into Heaven? John 16:12
   

“I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear.

1. How did Christ know that the people could not bear all that he had to say to them? John 3:1-12

3 Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of
the Jewish ruling council. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said,
“Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no
one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”
3 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom
of God unless they are born
again.”
4 “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked.
“Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be
born!”
5 Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the
kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. 6 Flesh
gives birth to flesh, but the
Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7 You should not be
surprised at my saying,
‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it
pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from
or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the
Spirit.”
9 “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked.
10 “You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not
understand these things? 11 Very truly I tell you, we speak of what
we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do
not accept our testimony. 12 I have spoken to you of earthly things
and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of
heavenly things?

1. Who will continue his work after he has been taken up into Heaven? John 16:13

But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all the truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come.

1. While on earth why did Christ call himself the Son of Man? Matthew 8:20

“And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’”

1. Is human experience already in God from the beginning, or is human experience obtained by living like a human?
   
2. Did Christ rule over our universe after creating it, or did he wait until he had first put on human nature, thereby becoming both Son of God and Son of Man? Matthew 28:16-18
   

16 Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. 17 When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18 Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.

1. Who gave Christ all authority?
   
2. What did Christ have after his resurrection, that he did not have before his crucifixion? Matthew 28:18
   

18 Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.

1. What could go wrong if Christ ruled our universe after creating it, without first putting on human nature?
   
2. What can go wrong when you try advancing a child when you have never been a child before?
   
3. In Matthew 23:11 why does the Father (through Christ) say
   

The greatest among you must be a servant.

1. Would Christ use his authority over Man, fairly, if he had not first obtained a human experience, and known what it was like to be human?

Luke 23:34
Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.
Luke 5:21-22
21 The Pharisees and the teachers of the law began thinking to themselves, “Who is this fellow who speaks blasphemy? Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

22 Jesus knew what they were thinking and asked, “Why are you thinking these things in your hearts?

1. If God himself goes through the proper way to assume authority, should humans also learn to do things the proper way?
   
2. Did Christ live his life on earth by seeking the will of the Father and doing it? John 6:38
   

For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me.

1. Should humans also spend their lives seeking the will of God and doing it?
   
2. Was Christ able to fulfill the law? Matthew 5:17
   

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.

1. Is Christ able to help you fulfill the law as well?