You never know the pull of a small town until you trade your entire life to live in one.
Dazzling city lights made way for grassy fields blanketed in soft sunsets, local papers filled with names I knew by heart. When the honeyed hair of the local florist came out in patches due to the stresses of life, sixty people brought steaming bowls of food to ease the ache. A singular church brought the townsfolk together, and perhaps that was the most foreign part of it all to me.
I was a kid, so I watched the entire thing unfold through the innocent lens of child, keenly watching the camaraderie of this town really peak outside the doors of that church. It didn’t look like much, a steepled dream imagined by the townsfolk of before, but it meant everything to the people. I even understood that back then, even though I didn’t quite buy the concept of a god yet.
The Sundays were a monotonous part of our week, only pedalled by my parents who desperately wanted to fit in with the town’s culture. They wore their masks well, nodding in the right places as we sat in the same pew every time, my father often discreetly checking the football scores in the sleeve of his jumper. Nothing ever happened in that tiny town, and then everything happened all at once.
It started with the miracles. Our pastor, Pastor Jon, liked to have the troubled souls of that week sitting in the front row so he could clutch their shaking hands one by one, channelling the energy of God through him in the hope that someday, hope could be brought to those lacking in it. It was a brief affair, usually just the joining of skin and a short prayer, but that Sunday was different. Rain hammered against the roof, leaving Pastor Jon’s prayers lost in the low, threatening rumble of thunder.
It meant when the sun shone through the clouds and caressed the face of a pained Wilson Brewster, it already felt a welcome intrusion.
“May your broken leg heal quickly,” Pastor Jon smiled warmly, steeling a hand on the calf of the waiting boy.
He, like me, was just a child. He didn’t feel the urgency of the situation, he was probably only grateful his throbbing leg wasn’t pulsating with pain anymore. He breathed a quiet ‘cool’ and that would have been that, had his parents not asked exactly what was cool about his leg being touched later that night. The news spread like wildfire - as per the medical centre, his parents said, Wilson Brewster no longer had a broken fibula.
There was some debate, of course. My parents mumbled in the kitchen about how clearly he’d never had a broken leg, and how odd to make him hobble around in a cast if that was the case. The sentiment was echoed tenfold, until something a little more tangible happened that changed the course of that town, and our lives, forever.
Pastor Jon didn’t mean for the glass to shatter in his hand during service, nor did he mean for a chunk of it to embed itself in his palm, gushing reams of blood racing down his arm in a bid for the floor.
“Gross!” one of the kids shouted with glee, the rest of us paling as crimson spilled from his wound. He was a deer in the headlights, utterly unprepared as we all looked on in awe. This was not how church usually went - this was quite the deviation. Several people stood to help, but they needn’t have bothered, because the divine was ready to intervene.
“Oh dear,” Pastor Jon muttered in a panic, using his bloodied hand to block the intense ray of sunlight threatening to stream through the glass into his eyes. It bathed the blood in a golden glow, and quicker than it had gone in, the chunk of glass began to slide from the wound till it smashed to the floor, exploding into a million pieces. That was not the crescendo, though, rather it was the sight of his skin tightening and knitting together - months of work in a moment - blood congealing and leaving behind nothing but memories of a wound.
“Pastor?” Mary-who-makes-the-blueberry-pies breathed, reaching out to touch him with bulging eyes. Pastor Jon could only open and close his mouth uselessly, his voice barely coming out in a whisper when he did finally speak.
“It’s a miracle,” he wheezed, and by all accounts, I suppose it seemed it was.
I was young, but I remember the bustle - the town was as I’d never seen it. The people of the church had vowed to keep it our little secret because, as Pastor Jon said, we had been given a gift and it was not appropriate to turn it into a spectacle. This gift was sporadic, though. People queued through the double doors of that church, sobbing and praying for their own slice of God, but few were to be given it. Little Laurie Lee and her dislocated jaw cleared up within the hour. Farmer Noel had a sudden epiphany about what the lottery numbers were to be.
Our town was blessed.
For two days, we marvelled. The rest of the world can have a piece later, we reasoned, but this was for us, just for now.
The church was fuller than it had ever been, people spilling out into the back and waiting with baited breath, snippets of conversations could be heard, and as they had been for the last two days, they all echoed one another.
“-a believer. I mean, Aunt Lillian said it was the light. The light closed up his wound, there and then!”
“-jaw. I saw her get hit with the cricket bat! Terrible thing, little lamb was inconsolable. And then next thing I know, she comes here and those shards are just welded back together again! Well, I told Janie-”
“-need to make the church bigger. Look at everyone! If only-”
So when Pastor Jon stood before us practically trembling with glee, it was hardly the weirdest thing that had happened all week. His voice was thick with emotion, eyes darting manically around our congregation.
“I have a message,” he breathed, and the crowd gasped at the connotation of it. I remember my father swearing, a low rumble of expletives I didn’t usually hear falling from his lips. I didn’t fully understand what this meant, but the atmosphere in that room morphed in a heartbeat.
“Tell us,” Christie Baker cried, hands clasped as tears welled in her eyes, “Oh, please tell us!”
Pastor Jon visibly shook, holding a trembling hand outstretched as if to reach us all. “He came to me last night,” a single tear raced past his cheek and made a home on his lip, “He spoke to me.”
“Praise God!” a man cried from next to me, and I shuffled closer to my father at the sudden burst of noise.
“It is… Him,” Pastor Jon uttered in a blissful exhale, sending the room bursting into chaos. Tears, cheers and prayers filled the space, but my father just clutched me tighter and my stomach churned uncomfortably. It took at least ten minutes for the room to quieten, but when it did, he had their rapt attention. “I am told that I will be His vessel. I will pass on what must be passed. We are not to spread the word, yet - only our pocket of civilization is ready. Only ours.”
You could replicate what happened a thousand times, and somebody would mess it up, sending a message of the divine to their great aunt in Auckland. But not us. That secret stayed within the confines of our town for the sixteen days hell shined upwards at us. Everybody had a thousand questions, but Pastor Jon only hushed us. “You must trust me,” he said, tone more regal than I’d ever heard it. And trust him the people did.
So on the second day when he returned to church and his eyes were dark-rimmed, nobody questioned it. He was chosen. Who knows what that does to a person’s sleep cycle? The following day when he went for his morning walk and the smile didn’t quite reach his hollow eyes, that was fine. He was a vessel, not a performer. And then that morning at church when he addressed us and kept rubbing the angry red welts on his wrists, who were we to ask questions of God’s messenger?
Nothing went terribly wrong until the baptisms. We all wanted to be part of this - even my anxious parents who signed me up to be bathed in holy water - and so we queued towards the front of the church, eager to hand ourselves over. I was second in line, right behind Mrs Awkins who had been the school nurse for the last 26 years, apparently. She was gleeful as Pastor Jon set up, speaking rhymes I barely listened to as I bounced on the balls of my feet, eager to go next. My stomach flipped at the words, knowing that my turn was only seconds away. People wouldn’t usually queue, but this was different. It was all different, now.
“I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
I didn’t expect the awful fizzing noise the liquid made as it hit Nurse Awkins’ head, nor did I expect the guttural wail that fell from her lips as she clawed at her own scalp. Smoke billowed up from her disappearing tresses and as I was yanked backwards, I caught a glimpse of her exposed skull. Most people will go their entire lives without the smell of burning flesh lingering in their nostrils, but not me.
“I- No! That wasn’t- oh!” Pastor Jon had cried, tired eyes bulging out of his head as people leapt to their feet to assist.
It was carnage, but not carnage I witnessed for long. My mother’s grip on my arm was vice-like, her eyes swimming with terror I know still plagues her to this day. I recall my father on the walk home, murmuring to my mother in low tones I wasn’t meant to hear.
“This isn’t right, Rach’. Jesus, did you see her? That was almost our son!”
My mum’s voice was shrill, the sound of her heels clacking against the pavement not quite masking her voice. “The police will be called - we don’t even know if she’ll survive! I think I’m going to throw up.”
But she was wrong on both counts. She didn’t throw up and the police weren’t called, because we rallied together. This was bigger than us and bigger than Mrs Awkins. Sure, nobody else tried to get baptised, but this was a blip. People surmised that the almighty didn’t want her as part of his flock, that she hadn’t been a believer when it mattered. Nobody was to utter a word about it, and because church was every morning now, my parents were almost too scared not to go. As a child, I didn’t understand it, but all these years later, I think I’d have bent to the fear of the almighty as well.
But it wasn’t the almighty who knocked on the door.
It became all the clearer that morning when Pastor Jon turned up with eyes so sunken and empty that we startled at his presence.
“Pastor.. Pastor, are you feeling alright?” one of our neighbours fussed, “Will you be okay for service?”
Pastor Jon didn’t answer. It was almost as though he didn’t hear her as he dragged his feet up to the front, turning so slowly towards us that it almost felt eerie. A large, jagged and bloodied cut spanned the entire back of his neck, disappearing behind him as he eyed us all, one by one.
“He’s here,” he murmured, words that on paper, should have sent the entire church reeling with joy. But you could hear a pin drop. You could hear any soul whisper in the large room, and yet his utterance only caused goosebumps to spread across my skin as a sort of icy stillness washed over me.
“He’s… here?” a woman in the front row asked, and Pastor Jon took too long to answer. An unnatural, slow smile spread across his face as he tilted his head towards the source of the noise. He didn’t respond, instead slowly lifting his hand to his lips, letting his finger linger there for a moment. When nobody spoke, he let his mouth fall open and began to chew loudly on the finger, drawing gasps from the crowd.
“Don’t look,” my mother shimmied closer to me and lifted a trembling hand to my eyes, but I could see through the cracks in her fingers. Pastor Jon continued to sloppily chew his finger, eventually snapping his head up and inhaling sharply as he spat blood out of his mouth.
“Your bodies are so fragile,” he sneered, lifting his dripping finger to the skies, causing several people to leap from their seats and make a bolt for it. My mother was one of them, and with horror, I watched as the Pastor’s eyes scanned the room and locked onto mine, tilting his head. “Stay,” he hissed with bared, bloody teeth, and we did. Not through choice, but rather, a sickening whoosh of air that skimmed past our faces and forced us all back down.
“What’s going on?” someone shrieked, but we weren’t to know, not really.
Pastor Jon only smiled blissfully, reaching his arms outwards as if to accept us. “I’ve come to bless you all,” he whispered mockingly, fingers outstretched as the sun hit the stained glass to the left of him. But it was all wrong. Sunshine streamed in and as it hit the red of a decorated sunrise, an image which had been there years before us, the colour changed. It was only moments until the church had the appearance of being bathed in blood, shimmering red bouncing off every surface to create the illusion we were all swimming in hell.
Nobody spoke.
Those who didn’t quite make it to the doors stood frozen; we who remained in our seats cowered in the heaviest kind of fear. Red drowned us and we clutched one another, eyeing Pastor Jon as though he were a wild animal. Finally, someone dared speak.
“Where is God?” he murmured, eyes swimming. Pastor Jon’s neck snapped towards him as he licked the blood from his finger, shuddering. When he spoke, his words were cold, distant. As though they were from somewhere else entirely.
“He hasn’t been around for a while.”
There was no time for his words to punch at my stomach, because in no time at all Pastor Jon was crumpled on the floor, wailing as he regarded his chewed, bloody finger. The bone was exposed and yet nobody helped him as he looked at us pleadingly, too many eyes on him as his whimpers turned to whispers. When he spoke, we listened.
“You need to keep coming to church,” he breathed, a single, bloody tear trickling down his cheek, “It will be worse if we don’t.”
So we did.
The Sunday Fair was cancelled, and pies that had been baked to share in sunny gardens went stale and grew mould. People packed duffel bags and made for their cars, arguing fiercely with those who decided to stay. My mother and father disagreed, but their argument was far more muted.
“Please, we have to go,” my father pleaded, shaking his head as I watched from the shadows, “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck that was-”
“I can’t explain it,” her voice was shaken, quiet, “But I know it will be worse if we go. I know it. Please just trust me. Trust Jon.”
So as my father always did, he believed in my mother. Each day in church was torturous, everyone sitting rigid with fear as Pastor Jon read slowly and shakily from the bible, bruises littering his gaunt body. When the holy book in his hands would launch into flames, he’d calmly drop it into the bucket of water he’d prepared and retrieve a new one. One time, every window in the church smashed and we all winced, ducking to avoid the onslaught of glass.
Darkness watched us.
We all felt it, and I know it visited members of the flock in the shadows. I was plagued by it one particularly torturous night as I lay in bed, blanketed in darkness with the covers pulled up to my chin. I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling I was being stared upon, squeezing my eyes shut as laboured, wet breaths left my body. But they weren’t my breaths.
I’d realised it straight away, that my hurried gasps for air didn’t match the gargling, strangled heaving that echoed around my head. From under the covers, I didn’t know much, but I knew one thing - the uncomfortable, heavy presence laying on my legs was my only source of comfort. Through all this, I reasoned, that if my beloved dog was with me, hell itself couldn’t come and claim me.
But I was wrong, because outside, my dog howled into the night.
Terror like that wasn’t something I’d felt before, and as my stomach bottomed out, I stopped breathing altogether. It must have sensed my fear, because those gargling breaths heaved closer and closer to my face as it dragged itself up my body, inch by inch. The smell of rot and ash burned into my nostrils, a horrific weight settling above my nose as my lungs started working again, so quickly that I would surely die then and there. If it had a face, it was twisted and pressed into mine, the thin bedcover my only source of protection.
But I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t move, so I let it pant gravelly air into my face, let it lay on top of me for hour after hour, till the birdsong indicated morning had come. All night I sobbed stifled cries, chest shaking as I squeezed my eyes shut and felt it pressing into me. Felt it hating me, felt it wanting to rip its claws into my stomach and pull out my intestines. But it didn’t. And when I awoke late the next morning - I must have passed out through fear alone - it was gone.
The rest is all a bit of a trauma-soaked blur, to be honest. I know my parents couldn’t understand why I wasn’t speaking the next day, why I barely reacted when evil finally descended that morning at church. The rest of the townsfolk screamed for their lives, ran as fast as they could, but I just stared with a hollow, broken gaze. As the rivers of blood waterfalled down between the pews, I watched Pastor Jon’s eyes grow dark as midnight, empty and soulless as he bellowed inside those four walls and called upon something worse than any of us could likely ever imagine.
I recall the fire starting, remember Pastor Jon’s slack jaw as he regarded us all so horribly, moving jaggedly towards my family with a growing demonic, gleeful grin.
“I remember you from last night,” he’d uttered darkly, but his voice came out in a thousand jarring layers and I could see hell in his eyes.
“Leave us alone!” my father tried to shield us, lifting a crucifix and wielding it towards Pastor Jon as though it would protect us. He simply laughed, an awful noise of horrific dissonance that I still sometimes hear alone in my bed at night. In complete horror, my parents could only watch as this thing wrenched the crucifix from my father’s hand, grinning as his jaw split and shattered each second he opened it impossibly wider. The sound of his bones cracking reverberated as his skin split and his mouth gaped, wide enough to drop the crucifix right into his waiting, blood-soaked mouth and swallow it, right in front of us.
When he met our gaze, his broken jaw hung limply from his face, sad morsels of skin stitching a once-good man together. Whatever blur those hours were, that, I remember.
It was an anti-climax, really, because while I expected him to descend upon us all and rip us into thousands of pieces, he simply boomed his words, jaw still hanging as his evil spoke directly into our souls.
“When I return in 20 years, it is not just your small town that will bleed.”
Pastor Jon has been missing for 20 years. I’m not sure when he started his countdown, but I awoke this morning with a dread so sickening that I’ve barely stopped emptying my stomach. If it’s over and the earth turns to rubble, I hope somebody finds this and can at least piece together why it all came to a sad, premature end. We townsfolk kept our vow of quiet for this long, but there comes a point when silence is deadly.
I think today, Pastor Jon will be found.

Hey, I'm being tracked and need to dump some equipment. These goons shouldn't harm you as long as you don't push them too hard. That being said? If you stall them I'll give you two. Nothing major. Just lie. Tell them I was going somewhere cold and dark. Just throw them off my trail. Stretch the story. Tell them I've dyed my hair purple. Keep them talking a bit longer. Something small could help.
Either way. Just take one. At a minimum, it will split the trail. I don't have time to tell you what they do.
Take One unless you are willing to lie for the stranger. In which case take Two. Or just lie to him and take two anyway.

1. Cyber glasses: When you put these on, they immediately drill into your temples giving you a split-second extreme nerve shock before it ends. You now have perfect vision, can see slightly above and below in the normal light spectrum, and can tint to a chosen color at will. These also can serve as a monitor for any machine/console/computer within 50 feet. You'll need to know the passwords still. But you'll be able to interface with them without using your hands and can control the transparency. This is full brain interface. Don't get yourself killed playing Fortnite in traffic.
2. Vape pen: The button on this vape appears to toggle between 3 different flavors. Each has 5 puffs per day. Brown = Coffee: Each puff of this is like getting a 30-minute nap. This can replace real sleep with no issues. There is no downside to this. No drop-off. Your body just basically slept a bit in the single puff. Red = Cherry Punch: This seems to give you a .25x boost in your physical stats for 30 minutes per puff. You keep all gains from this. This includes things like endurance. They do stack. Green = Sour Watermelon: Each hit heals you as if you had top-of-the-line modern treatments for 48 hours. However, it is also able to very slightly treat issues outside of current capabilities at a much-reduced rate. This includes very slowly healing most disorders even genetic and even slowly repairing spinal damage. If no immediate damage needs repairing it will start to halt your aging. It isn't perfect, but if you are fully healed 3 puffs a day will completely stop aging that day. Each additional puff would essentially de-age you an hour or two.
3. Magician's Wand: On taking this item, you gain a magical assistant of your chosen gender in any magician's assistant garb that will appear. It doesn't have to be revealing, but it does have to look like a magician's assistant clothing. They'll be your magician assistant without hesitation and they are great. This individual will be a near-perfect match for you in personality to be a bff at minimum. They live inside of a pocket realm in the wand. It has plenty of space. With their consent, you can come and go from the Wand which has internet and most gaming systems. It is a full house. If you are nice they'll let you move in. It is a 4 bedroom 2 bath. You can also invite others if your assistant allows it. At will, you can know anything you've put inside of the wand, and are able to manifest it before you in a puff of smoke or flash of light.
4. Pair of Dice: These dice passively increase your luck. This attribute is hard to define in this reality, but this is the equivalent of being 2x more lucky in all situations than average. As long as the dice are on you. The first time you roll the dice each day determines the following. If the pair adds up to more than 6, $500 USD adjusted for inflation will show up on your person in the next few hours. If you roll under 6 half a pint of blood will vanish from you.
5. Old watch: This old watch always tells the exact time in your current location. An extra button on the side allows you to stop time for all but you and the things you touch. Press it again for time to resume. This builds up a charge at the rate of 5 minutes per hour. This caps at 24 hours. You don't seem to age during this time.
6. PI Trench coat: This coat keeps you at the exact right temperature in any temps between -50f - +150f. It will try its best at anything above or below those temps, but it will be overwhelmed. Rain seems to ignore you while you wear this coat. Inside of the left pocket, a packet with 3 cigarettes appears daily. These don't harm you or cause you to cough. Instead smoking these increases your attention to detail and focus for a short duration. Often giving you a quick insight into problems. The coat slowly self repairs

Consequences: If you feed the goons bull information that isn't too insane they'll leave you. You'll never see them again. Interfere or feed them too much bull and they will kill you. Don't disrespect them and you'll be fine.
If you tell them everything you know, they'll thank you with 10,000 USD in your currency. The man who offered you the items may or may not be coming for you.

Collanite Season 1: Storyline: one day, during day of the blood ring on monstinia, a portal made of this excess energy formed in the relatively small but populated and active island, known as aphrodite, not only that, but it also created a energy dome around itself, that slowly grew until it covered the entire island, causing strange, anomalous events to occur on the island. On further investigation, it was discovered that these events only affect aphrodite. Later on, from the same portal, a group of people from another world fell through into the island and started colonizing it for themself. Theme: strange, otherworldly characters have entered aphrodite
Locations: Monster Metropolis, Saltwater Shore, Skier Slopes, Doggy Diner, Peace Pond, Mount Anon, Starlit Suburb, Golden Saucer, Cozy Cabins, Sakura Swim Club, Misty Mesa, Sacred Shrines
Skins: Travis Touchdown(1), Link(22), 2b(43), Glamrock Freddy(62), Monika(84), Cloud Strife(100)
Destruction Tools: Blood Berry, Ancient Battle Axe, Virtuous Contract, Glamrock Mic, Heart Pen, Buster Sword
Backblings: Blood Berry, Hyrule Shield, Virtuous Contract, Glamrock Giftbox, Poetry Book, Buster Sword
Emoticons: Ancient Bow Drawn, Well Done Superstar, MonikaHeart, Confident Cloud
Gliders: Demzamtiger, Wild Paraglider, yoRHa Flight Unit, Car Battery, Poetry Book, Hardy Daytona
Contrails: Sheikah Symbol, Pod 042, Blue Boltz, Glitching, Materia Orbs
Emotes: Beam Showoff, Milk Drink, Slate Check, Phut Hon, Glamrock Wave, Glamrock Giftbox, Write Your Heart, Code Panel, Piano Practice, Victory!
Weapon Wraps: Tunic Of Memories, yoRHa Specialist, Glamrock Shell, Doki Hearts, Buster Steel
Music Pack: Berry Beatdown, Open Wilds, Blissful Death, Pizzaplex Performance, Your Reality, Let The Battle Begin
Weapon Charms: Jeane, Triforce Of Courage, Superstar, Chibi Sayori, Chocobo
Loading Screens: View Of The Wild, yoRHa Installation, Below The Pizzaplex, JuSt MoNiKa, Fantasy Evolution
Edit Styles: Purple Jacket(Travis Touchdown), Tunic Of Memories, Tunic Of The Wild, Well Worn Outfit(Link), 2p Mock Machine, Mask Off(2B), Dirty Freddy(Glamrock Freddy), Paper President, Ghost Menu Monika, Ponytail Monika, Jumpscares Monika(Monika), Playstation Polygonal(Cloud Strife)
Wildlife: Goose, Chocobo, Wolf, Horse, Snowcoat Fox
Weapons: Thrasher Assault Rifle, Thrasher Burst AR, Thunder Shotgun, Buster Shotgun, Calamity Submachine Gun, Sacred Submachine Gun, Tactical Pistol, Drum Pistol, Ancient Sniper Rifle, Monster Grenades, Silver Longsword, Royal Guards Sword, Beam Katana, Silver Knife, Bronze Knife
Items: Crafting Station, Pizza Box, Pizza Slices, Maple Sprout, Maple Vines, Apple, Baked Apple, Maple Pie, Raw Meat, Meat Skewer, Knights Shield
Weekly Challenges/Updates:
Week 1.
Visit Named Locations (3)
Deal Damage With The Bronze Or Silver Knife (300)
Search Loot Crates (5)
Plant A Maple Sprout, Then Consume Maple Vines (2)
Eliminations With Beam Katana (1)
Week 2.
Visit Starlit Suburb, Then Block Damage With A Shield (200)
Retrieve A Stolen Item From A Goose
Search Uncommon Or Rare Loot Crates (3), Deal Damage With A Thrasher Assault Rifle Or Thunder Shotgun (500)
Tame Horses Or Wolves (1)
Deal Damage With The Royal Guards Sword While Riding On A Horse (350)
Added: Bows, Arrows, Milk Bottles
Week 3.
Fire Arrows At Opponents (8)
Land At Sacred Shrines And Reach Top 50 (1)
Interact With yoHRa Pods (3)
Craft A Shotgun Or SMG Using The Crafting Station (1)
Deal Damage With A yoRHa Assault Rifle (300)
Added: yoHRa Assault Rifle
Week 4.
Pick Up Or Purchase A Pizza Box (1)
Visit Doggy Diner And Consume Pizza Slices (5)
Perform Dodge Rolls With The Knights Shield (3)
Construct A Stage Inside Of Doggy Diner (1)
Eliminate Opponents With The Silver Knife (5)
Week 5.
Visit The Clubroom At Starlit Suburbs (1)
Eliminate Opponents At Starlit Suburbs Or Sakura Swim Club (3)
Consume Cupcakes (5)
Collect A Fazer Blaster And Stun An Opponent Using It (1)
Delete Opponents By Eliminating Them With Four Hits Or Less (1)
Added: Apple Pie, Fazer Blaster
Week 6.
Visit Sacred Shrines Or Sakura Swim Club, Drink Milk Bottles (3)
Collect Torn Poem Pieces Scattered Around Starlit Suburb (7)
Restore Health And Stamina Using Meat Skewers (75)
Deal Damage Using Monster Grenades (150)
Destroy Structures With Beam Katana In A Single Match (20)
Week 7.
Consume Apple Pie (1)
Investigate Strange Energy Signals At Monster Metropolis, Mount Anon And Skier Slopes (3)
Collect A Tactical Pistol And Deal 150 Damage Using It
Piece Together The Torn Poem Pieces Into A Full Poem (7)
Get An Elimination With The Ancient Sniper Rifle (1)
Week 8.
Deal Damage With The Buster Sword (175)
Land At Golden Saucer
Block Damage With The Knights Shield 30 Seconds After Landing (150)
Visit Skier Slopes And Cozy Cabins In A Single Match
Land At Monster Metropolis And Deal Damage With The Buster Swords Cross Slash Or Blade Beam Attack (100)
Added: Buster Sword.
Week 9. Deal Total Damage With The Calamity Smg and Royal Guards Sword In A Single Match (300)
Consume Baked Apples, Maple Pies Or Pizza Slices In A Single Match (8)
Visit The Clubroom At Starlit Suburbs, Read The Pieced Together Poem (1)
Use The Buster Swords Cross Slash To Deal Damage In Different Matches (3)
Tame A Chocobo And Ride It 250 Meters
Week 10.
Interact With The Strange Gauntlet At Mount Anon (1)
Eliminate Opponents Using The Buster Sword (3)
Investigate Strange Objects Appearing At Monster Metropolis, Saltwater Shore, And Misty Mesa (1)
Defeat Prismarine Warriors (5)
Visit Named Locations In A Single Match (3)
Added: Prismarine Warriors, Prismarine Knife
End Event: Power Theft The event starts players around Mt. Anon. The event starts with an anomaly opening up at mount anon and from ot, Romeo the admin appears and steps out laughing maniacally “it is time, people of aphrodite. Time that I take this islands power for my own!” Romeo then rises up into the air, hovering above the center of mt. Anon.. then 2b rushes up the side of the mountain and slashes Romeo with the virtuous contract, causing him to yell out in pain for a moment before quickly composing himself and fires a blast of lava towards 2b, knocking her off the mountain and onto the ground with a thud. He then fires another blast, attempting to finish off the islanders of aphrodite, but monika forms a shield of code that absorbs the blast before closing it. “Don’t worry about him, we’ll stop him before he can do anything harmful” monika says, and then both cloud and travis run up to the mountain, weapons drawn- and then in sync, they jump up into the air and travis performs quick and powerful slashes with his beam katana, while cloud fires multiple blade beams at Romeo, greatly damaging him and knocking him back down onto the mountain, as they both fall back down sure they’ve beaten him.. and they took that moment to rest, but just then as soon as they let their guards down.. romeo began laughing before getting up and dusting himself off and commanding his army of prismarine colossus to rise up from the water around the island and attack everyone on it. Then saying “Now, back to absorbing this pathetic heart of yours” and forming a small protective shield around himself and firing two guardian beams at the center of the island, glamrock freddy then throws everyone a Fazer blaster to stun the colossi, allowing the rest of them to fire at them while they can’t move. Romeo then attempts to pull the power heart out, causing a small tremor as the power heart is ripped out from the core of the island, then once it’s all the way exposed he begins using the beams to absorb the crystallic energy. once the first set of colossus fall, another one walks up from the water almost immediately, and then monika seeing this, says “it’s no use. They just keep coming..” then she gets an idea, and says “alright, I have an idea. But- it’s a risky one..” “if the powerheart becomes corrupted, then it’s dark energy will drain the energy and power of anything making contact with it..” “but, as the heart is what controls everything on this island. If it gets corrupted, the islands landscape and everything would also become corrupted and sinister.. but it’s the only way” monika hesitates for a moment before manipulating and corrupting the powerheart. as the heart grows darker and begins to crack slightly, the influx of dark energy causes romeos beams to backfire, draining him of all his energy and admin powers and causing him to fall out of the sky, back onto the mountain and sliding down the side of it, hitting various things on his way down before eventually coming to a stop on the ground surrounded by everyone else. Romeo then lets out a weak cough, saying in a weak raspy voice “what.. h-happened?..” and link chimes in saying “you just got defeated by us.. now.” And link draws his sword, ready to finish off romeo.. but before he can, the powerheart lets out a big burst of dark energy, knocking everyone back and leaving a decent sized crater around it.

23rd: Jane Bright (Nicaragua - 6th)

A deserving, incredible Survivor endgame level character standing next to Jane Bright.
u/SMC0629:
I don't have Jane in my personal endgame, but I'm not mad at all that she made it here. She's probably the most divisive character in Nicaragua, but I personally love her. She's got a spunky attitude, has a great rivalry with Marty, great relationship with Chase, and has one of my favorite eliminations ever. Her boot is so god damn memorable, that lasting moment of the alliance telling her it's gonna be her tonight, with Jane in complete shock and despair is just perfect. One of the best characters of Nicaragua for sure.
~
u/DryBonesKing:
Jane is on a very small list of players who I think has run the entire spectrum in terms of where they land in my rankings. Top ten, top hundred, middle of the pack, bottom hundred, bottom ten… I think I understand pretty much every Jane take known to humanity, cause I’ve had them. Nowadays, I tend to lean more positive on her, but I definitely still have too many issues I’m hyper aware of to let her rank too highly for me.
“What if we have Rupert’s hero edit to someone who was just really really mean, and did the bare minimum to hide it” is genuinely hilarious to me. Jane’s got good energy and her many, many, many feuds (the majority of which being with Marty) make her a great character to guide the narrative. There’s also just her boot episode, which is like… way too good of an episode for Nicaragua. I think I’m neutral-lean positive on Nicaragua, but it’s not a season that does a ton for me, but dear god, Jane’s boot and the scene of her dousing the camp fire is like so fucking metal.
She’s such a raw, powerful person. I think my biggest issue with her right now is just that, in a similar vein to Brandon Hantz, sometimes she feels a little too real at times. Like is she funny when she’s talking shit about Marty? Yes! Is the story great? Yes! But does some of what she says about Marty and his kids feel a bit too much? Yes, very much so. It’s not enough to detract from her character, but again… Brandon Hantz-tier of character. For me, that’s a pretty big compliment, but I also do not keep him in my Top 100. Same with Jane. But despite being one of the names that made Endgame that I disagree with the most, I am very curious and excited to see our resident “Least Sane Jane Bright Enjoyer” spin a tale or two about why she deserves to be up here!
Overall Rank – 138/821
~
u/Zanthosus:
While I disagree with her being endgame, I understand the reasoning and defense behind it. I respect the hustle that Tom did to get her here and I’m happy for him that Jane made her first endgame.
~
u/Regnisyak1:
I love that Jane is here, I am not even going to lie. Before my recent rewatch, I had Jane in the 200s, and after my rewatch, I was completely blown away at how complex her character is and the great relationships she had all season. To me, she felt real with her hatred, and the switch between the dry laugh we know her for, to the nasty person she became was endlessly incredible, she was such a great part of Nicaragua and one of the few praises I have for that season. Plus, when she finds out Chase, Holly, and Sash are voting for her, the music change and piano chord that happens there might be the piece media I have ever seen. Congrats Tom for getting her here!
Personal Rank: 73/821. 9/10.
~
u/ninjedi1:
Nicaragua is such a great season due to how emotionally charged it is, and Jane is a big part of that. Jane is the sweet southern lady until she feels crossed, then she has a whole vendetta against anyone who crosses her, so it's a lot of great fun. She is not in my personal endgame, but I can always appreciate a kooky character showing up in it.
~~~~~
u/Tommyroxs45:
Jane Bright:
This is undoubtedly my most anticipated write up of the rankdown, I have such a love for Jane and everything she does for Nicaragua. She has one of the best stories of all time, and just has so many moments that further it and make it cohesive. And that is what I will explain today. Jane is not just some badass southern old lady, ok well she is, but she’s also a very deep, broken old lady trying to put on a facade for herself. Her hatred towards everyone around her has its story and here it is…
The Mask
A lot like Rupert, Jane tries to paint a mask on herself as a hero and somebody who always follows her heart for the greater good. However, throughout the season we see cracks start to arise in this persona she puts on herself. She’s someone who needs a purpose and when somebody gets in the way of that, she gets insecure and bitter and that’s when we see the wrath of Jane break out.
The editors never try to pull the wool over your eyes by painting her as a hero, because they show petty rivalries with her and Marty and her boot episode meltdown. We get to see her from all angles, even if she only wants to present one. She’s insecure about herself, making her feel entitled to be treated as a queen and carried to the end due to her “heroic” manner. Once she realizes it doesn’t work like that and she actually has to play the game, all gloves come off and we get some of the most petty, uncalled for, or even bitchy moments that just have so much raw emotion.
She’s not painted as a hero while being an asshole (*cough* Ozzy *cough*) They show her as her flawed self, but they also let you make your own decision on what to feel without pushing a narrative onto you. Of course she wins Favorite Player at the reunion, so some people still thought she was a hero but you get to see this very broken and entitled person struggling. She really hates everyone but that’s not what she can show because that’s now who she wants to be and it’s such a complicated story arc throughout the season that we see the cracks grow and it’s told so subtlety but perfectly. And this is only the tip of the iceberg with how deep this old southern lady is.
Without this defining feature, she’d just be a badass southern lady but with it she becomes so much more just adding to this brilliant story building up all season until her boot episode. Her masking her real personality just makes her a much more complex character and when we see these glimpses of it, you start to realize, ohhh this is the person I’m supporting.
Even on top of the mask, there is so much more to Jane’s character…
Grief
When you watch Nicaragua for the first time, this part of her character is not inherently obvious. Grief?!? What are you talking about? She just seems like a badass until she’s a bitter old hag for being the target. While, yes that’s a very simplified version of this, there’s so much more to dissect there. The grieving of her husband, greatly plays a role in her story, and although it’s sometimes subtle you can see how it play into it so beautifully well.
In her very first confessional, what do we see Jane say?
“They think I'm some middle aged housewife that tootles around the house all day long, they’re in for a big surprise. Because that is definitely not me. I'm fifty-six years old and I'm the type person that stays busy all the time doing things. I just don't think there's anything I can't do. Winning the million dollars is real important to me ‘cause it’ll help me pay off my farm and the fact that I lost my husband, uh, in '09, it-it-it means I wouldn't have to work as hard as I do. But his spirit, I know is still with me and that's what keeps me going.”
Her husband obviously is impacting her mentally during this season, and we see this throughout the game. Every Time somebody makes a gesture that they want her out, her personal viper just breaks out. This is because she knows this is getting in the way of her dream, and the spirit of her husband that made her want to do this and she’s not letting anybody take that from her.
She’s still grieving and wants to win for her husband, and it is a very sweet story but sadly it takes a dark turn as she starts using this as entitlement for her to win. She believes she’s obligated to be brought to the end because of who she is and the loss of her husband and yeah, it’s dark but damn is it good when you think about it.
This is also why the family visit is SO important to her story in her boot episode. Right when her daughter, Ashley gets there, she starts talking about her husband and how Ashley is the one she is doing this for, to help her. This is WHO SHE IS FIGHTING FOR!
That is why it hits so hard when everyone flips on her! How dare they! She thinks. These people are voting me out right after I fought my hardest to give my daughter a better life?!? She’s one of the only I have left, this is disgusting. It’s so sad but at the same time it’s brilliantly shown not told. And what do you know, when Jane is talking about Sash’s mama raising him, she immediately brings up her daughter, just ugh how perfect does it round back to her family and her grief with loss.
Now obviously, does that make her outrage justified, I don’t know, maybe? Is she still kind of a bitch? probably! Is she a badass? Probably! That leads me to my next point.
Perspective
If you have read a lot of my other writeups on Nicaragua you would have noticed I love to talk about the perspective a lot of these characters receive on the season. Complimenting how diverse they can be seen depending on your morals or values. No character represents this better than Jane Bright.
How do I know this? Well let’s look at her placements in Rankdowns Past:
SRI - 485/501 - Seen as a bitchy, entitled, worse version of NaOnka, and someone who went way too personal in the game.
SRII - 455/537 - Seen as annoying and sour, forced fan favorite edit not giving her the trashing she deserved by the other tribemates.
SRIII - 549/575 - Seen as a narcissist and self-righteous, below the belt remarks and “a human embodiment of a rash” (that made me laugh a bit).
SRIV - 518/615 - Seen as an ultimately fascinating character, who got a dishonest edit that didn’t show her true side until the end. Ultimately ending up as an unlikable “venomous bitch” who somehow won fan favorite.
SRV - 108/653 - Seen as a great T.V personality whose kooky first half and vigorous 2nd half make for a good story and uplifts everyone around her while also being a great character.
SRVI - 127/731 (Had to be idoled to get here though smh) - Seen as a badass challenge competitor who is actually sour, who unfairly attacked Marty and is a bit too much when it comes to her toxic side to make her slightly less good.
SRVII - 185/767 - Seen as an extremely authentic personality and very entertaining to the chaos of Nicaragua, as well as having an iconic rivalry with Marty, being an iconic mother.
See the difference between one half and the other? Yeah, that shows just how well of a character she is edited as. She has so many times where she is shown to be a hero but juxtaposed with so many times she is shown as an asshole and it works off each scene perfectly. This is why we get such a difference of opinion and I think it’s told so well to where most people don’t even see it.
You have to weigh her good and bad and see based on your morals, if she’s a good person or not, and how acceptable or right was she for her constant hatred of others? I really love that as they aren’t trying to make you think a specific feeling about her. You need to come up with that conclusion yourself on how you think she is, that’s why she won the fan favorite vote in 2011 but today many call her an entitled bitch. (And yeah, she is but that’s a lot of what makes her so amazing).
Her kicking ass in challenges and being a lively spirit contrasted to her nasty demeanor to Jill and especially Marty personally attacking them and her boot episode meltdown, contribute to making one of the most wishy-washy characters when it comes to people’s opinions on her. I don’t what to be told how to feel, I want to come up with it on my own, and I feel like a lot of that has been lost in recent years of Survivor and seeing Jane and having all these different perspectives on her personality just adds so much life.
There is a reason why so many people despise her and so many people love her, she’s just edited that well to where people have had to come up with their own feelings about Jane. Not being coerced to feel a certain way, and I feel that is the best way to edit a character. What you see is what you see, not an objective stance the show is trying to put onto you, and I feel all of Nicaragua shows this but Jane is the prime example. Perspective means everything with her.
This makes her one of the most complex characters of all time, she’s either a broken woman seeking admiration, an entitled bitch, or a badass southern lady who is an inspiration. It’s all based on what you value and isn’t that what Survivor is all about, a social experiment where you weigh your values and personalities with each other to build a society.
Speaking of building a society, how is Jane’s relationships with the cast, well let’s see her main stars:
Sash: Jane and Sash’s dynamic isn’t really shown and I think that actually helps her and Sash’s story. Sash is sleazy and doesn’t really make any genuine connections and we see that in her breakdown scene. When you watch the moment she learns she’s going home and the confessional she gives, you see a direct tone shift from how she talks about Chase and how she talks about Sash. When she’s almost crying about Chase and his betrayal, she is outright vile and nasty when talking about Sash. Showing this major lack of connection between them, that she never saw him as a friend and will not hold back from releasing her rage on him.
Chase: Jane and Chase’s connection is one for the books. Both being from North Carolina and being southern types, they instantly bond and feel close to each other. Their relationship just feels more special than anyone else’s that season, that’s what makes the betrayal so much more entertaining. You literally see her about to cry over Chase, they really were close and got to know each other and just to have him stab her in the back, it’s so good. It just felt special but it wasn’t enough for him to not cut her…
Now how could you talk about relationships and not bring up Jane’s defining one…
Fartay:
Come on! This rivalry is one of if not the best rivalry in all of Survivor. They just despise each other and really are either of them in the right? Not at all, that’s what makes it so great. Marty’s a sleazeball, cocky, and a smart ass while Jane’s an entitled, bitter, old lady and they just work so well off each other. You just have personal jab after personal jab that is just so entertaining and perfectly helps tell Jane’s story.
There is really no reason why they should hate each other as much as they do but their walks of life and personalities just clash so hard that you still understand why they hate each other. Jane takes everything Marty does to heart without any grain of salt, and it makes her reactions so visceral and truly legendary. It’s what makes Jane the Jane we love to love or love to hate!
Now, I think it’s time to talk about the pinnacle of Jane. Her magnum opus if you will… her boot episode.
The Wrath of Jane Will Break Out Tonight
This is one of my favorite episodes of Reality TV. Everything about it is perfect and told in such a way to where it’s the perfect ending for such a broken character.
Building her up with her daughter coming during the family visit, talking about her and how much she wants to provide for her. Having a seed planted in Jane’s brain after she’s not taken to the reward thinking she was entitled to be brought.
Fabio winning immunity, throwing everything for a loop, just when Jane’s attitude has really started to shift and then we get to the scene. Which personally is my favorite scene in all of Survivor without a doubt. The scene where the alliance tells her it has changed and she’s going home is so brilliant. The raw awkwardness and silence next to Jane’s utter disbelief and anger. After she flips them off it is followed by again my favorite confessional of all time.
This is what she has been building up to, everything just falls about when she believed she deserved to win. Having such raw and unfiltered emotions where she’s about to break down and cry and then the turn to anger and fury bringing Sash’s mother into it, talking about how she raised a damn liar. (WITH THAT HEAD COCK THOUGH) All with very subtle sound effects or just no music at all until she gets up and makes one last hoorah by pouring water on the fire. “I started and I put it out” 🔥🔥🔥
Then we get to tribal, where Jane is just done with the bullshit and just calls everyone out for being liars and backstabbers. “The writings on the wall Fabio!” Like come on, that is TV gold, followed by the vote having Chase and Sash “cowardly” play their idols sticking it to Jane when she is already at her lowest by not even having her vote count. She leaves bitter and broken, not the happy ending she felt she deserved.
Mortgage Gate
I’m putting this here because that’s where it best fits, and this is brief because it doesn’t really affect my rankings on Jane because it’s not in the season.
I wish they did show this though, as having this added layer of controversy between Sash and Jane with real world implications would have been amazing, even if what Jane is saying isn’t true it still would’ve shown her as an ass, making up lies just to make someone look worse. I just think it’s such an interesting topic to discuss that I wanted to give it its own section. Sash is sleazy so I wouldn’t pass him to do that, however Jane is extremely bitter and entitled so I could also see her making that up, I guess we'll never really know will we… (I know Marty called the incident fake, but it’s Marty, of course he’s gonna dispute whatever Jane says, if she says the sky is blue, he’ll say it’s orange).
I'm Not Breaking My Tile!
This kind of relates to the mask section of this write up. However, I wanted to talk specifically about Jane’s challenge prowess and wins throughout the season and how much it adds to this arc. Building her up as this badass figure competing against big guys half her age and actually winning?!? It gives an excellent face to the real Jane, having this much courage to go against Chase and Fabio even after winning, not only being such a badass in that moment but showing how she’s trying to play up this persona of old challenge great.
Jane, The Tribe Has Spoken
So in conclusion, you can see that when you really glance over Nicaragua you don’t see Jane as some sort of deep character. However, when you really look into her and her actions and motives you see a broken old lady who is obviously grieving. She is such a deep and complex character that Nicaragua needed to really round out the story.
Jane isn’t supposed to be this likable hero, nor is she supposed to be a villain, she’s not edited as one archetype. However you value your morals, is how you will see Jane and even if you find her an ass, you have to admit they tell it very well. She’s also objectively entertaining, her rivalry with Marty, her being badass during challenges, cooking fish in the woods, her boot episode meltdown, and so much more are just so iconic to me and make this season what it is.
This write up obviously won’t sway everybody, but I hope that if you rewatch Nicaragua, take a closer look at Jane and her actions and see how it lines up with somebody like Rupert or Coach who are much more prevalent when it comes to these “entitled, broken, facade” archetypes. You will see a brilliant story of grief, hatred, entitlement, and a fake persona that the show knows she is trying to present.
Personally, Jane will always be one of my favorite characters of all time with amazing scenes and a story almost as complex as Ian’s. She didn’t win this rankdown, but she won my heart and has definitely earned herself a #1 spot on my rankings for this endgame.
SMC0629: 19
DryBonesKing: 21
Zanthosus: 24
Tommyroxs45: 1
Regnisyak1: 20
DavidW1208: 24
ninjedi1: 24
Average Placement: 19.000
Total Points: 133
Standard Deviation: 8.206 (2nd Highest)

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
The past couple of days are events I pray no one else ever has to go through what Kate and I had. I had her and Mr. Raines cleared of all charges, having found the proof we all needed to end this case and find the true killer. Kate no longer has to go into witness protection and I had given the police a good enough lie to keep myself from looking insane in the eyes of my co-workers. I know no one will ever know the true story or believe it, but I’m writing it out here. It at least needs to be known written somewhere. Even if my and Kate’s eyes are the only ones that will ever read it written out and forever imprinted in our memories.
The morning Kate had run off to the mountains on her own, I had made my way to the Blackwell home where I was immediately met with Mr. Blackwell charging at me and wrapping his large hands around my neck. He was shaking me and blaming me for getting his daughter killed and not doing more to keep her safe. The police who had been called to examine the scene and read Kate’s letter had to sedate Mr. Blackwell to get him off of me, lying him down on the couch, his head resting on Mrs. Blackwell’s legs. Though the woman was distraught and begging the police to bring her daughter back, she still took the time to shoot that cold, death glare my way. The ice in my chest growing. I couldn’t tell these people that this thing had come after me to get to Kate. I knew it wouldn’t change anything. If anything they’d hate me even more for keeping it to myself.
The sheriff was there and he pulled me away from eye sight of the Blackwells, trying to tell me that this wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t help but blame myself. I should have done everything I could to keep Kate as far from those mountains as possible.
There were no signs of a struggle in Kate’s room and the letter was definitely written in her hand writing. Her father’s rifle missing from the study, a backpack and some food and supplies gone as well. She had only grabbed one set of clothes from her drawers, showing she did indeed have plans on returning after only one night in the mountains to confront whoever or whatever the killer was.
I told the sheriff to keep any police from going up to the mountains without first allowing me to go up there first to find Kate. He of course argued, telling me that he couldn’t break protocol based on any hunches I may have had. However, I told him that I could get Kate back without her putting up much of a fight, whereas she may struggle with a group of cops who didn’t understand the situation she was in. I was close enough to this case to have built a trust with her after all. I was mentioned in her letter about ending this case for me.
It took a good hour to get the sheriff to eye the Blackwells, Mr. Blackwell beginning to stir from his sleep, and allow me to go to the mountains to find Kate. He didn’t bother to call off the search to the police that had already begun making their way to the mountains, but did radio to tell them to not try getting Kate home without first allowing me to speak to her. He then gave me twenty-four hours to find her to which I told him I’d only need at most ten.
Without telling him about the disturbing scratches on my car, I sped to the mountains, taking the same path Kate had that day she took her friends on their trip. The route, as the sun began to rise was scenic. A drive that may have been a sign of a bright future ahead with a beautiful week in the mountains of nothing but nature, was now a reddening sky of horror. I couldn’t understand how Kate felt, going down the same roads that led to her only friends’ fates to avenge them, but the feeling of guilt did weigh heavy on my chest as I saw the signs of the Appalachian Mountain trails grow bigger on the horizon. Guilt for not doing more to prove Kate was innocent, for allowing Mrs. Mayfield for getting killed right before my very eyes, and for Liam for not being lucky enough to save him.
When I finally arrived to the cabin, there didn’t seem to be any change since the first day I was called to the crime scene, the only thing out of place being Mr. Blackwell’s truck parked precariously near the cabin. The police tape was still up, the cars of Kate and Mr. Woolfe still left where they were, the tires still slashed, the door wide open from when Kate, Ms. Greymoore, and Mr. Woolfe ran out of the cabin upon Mr. Billings was killed by an unknown force. All the bodies had been found and were now being prepared by their families to be buried or cremated. Only one body of the five still roaming around to avenge each and every one of their deaths.
I called out for Kate as I made my way into the cabin. The Ouija board was still on the coffee table, the white line of where Mr. Billings had been found lying face first on the floor with his head bashed open remained on the spot. The planchette was still missing. I kept calling out for Kate as I made my way up to the attic, the door left unlocked, using my flashlight to shine down on the white outline where Mr. Steele had been found completely torn apart. To think Kate had done such a thing, I now realize made me look like a complete dumb ass for believing it.
When I couldn’t find Kate in the cabin, I made my way out the cabin, still calling for her. I called out to her, promising that she just needed to come back home with me and we could solve the murders together. I knew it was a lie and that the sheriff would immediately have her take away to some secluded place where the killer couldn’t find her, but it was all I could think of to try luring her out to meet me. Still, she never appeared.
The sun was soon beginning to set as I tried retracing the very steps Kate and Ms. Greymoore had taken to outrun the killer. I had passed the small shrine of flowers and the pictures of Mr. Woolfe where the boy had been found, his face permanently remaining nineteen forever in the photos of him with Kate and their friends. I kept going, trying my best to follow the same path to the cliff where Ms. Greymoore was found, calling for Kate along the way.
It wasn’t until I found the place Kate had buried her best friend that I found Kate. She was on her knees before the rock where she left her bloody handprint, sniffing as her head was lowered, her dad’s rifle in her hands.
“Ms. Blackwell-“ I began as I took a step toward her. I was immediately cut off as Kate jumped to her feet, raising her father’s rifle at my head. I jolted back, raising my hands up to show her I meant no harm to her. “Ms. Blackwell, it’s me, Det. Snow!”
“Detective…?” She gasped, slightly lowering the rifle, but keeping it on me. “P-Prove it!”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I… I thought I saw Sonja…” Kate breathed between tears, the rifle shaking in her hands, “it… It was wearing her face… It had her voice… How… H-How do I know you’re really Det. Snow?”
“You… Saw Sonja?” I asked as gently as I could with a terrified woman pointing a gun my way. “She spoke to you?”
“Prove you’re Det. Snow!” Kate demanded as she stilled her arms, readying the rifle as she pointed straight between my eyes.
“Alright! Alright!” I kept my hands up, backing up slightly as I tried thinking of how I could prove to her I was really me. “I… I, ah… I have… Had a brother… We went to get ice cream together once and… I dropped a dime and went to grab it… I was five… I followed it out to the road and despite how trafficked it was, I didn’t get hit. I grabbed the dime just as a truck was speeding my way and it swerved just before hitting me… Seeing how close I was to death, I dropped the dime and it rolled into the sewer. My brother called me Lucky Dime since then… Saying the dime was lost to me because it did its job in protecting me… I haven’t seen my brother since I was seven and I haven’t spoken to my parents in…” I looked at my watch. “Five years… No one else calls me Lucky Dime… Not even the people at the station know that was my nickname.”
With this, Kate lowered the rifle, her eyes softening from her furious fear to a more melancholy terror. She looked to Ms. Greymoore’s grave marker, her hand print just barely visible In the approaching darkness.
“It… It looked just… Like her…” She sniffed, “it had her voice… Why did it have her voice… Why did it look like her…?”
“Ms. Blackwell,” I soothed, relaxing now that there was no weapon in my face, “we need to head back, your parents are worried about you and the police are looking for-“
“I can’t go back yet!” She snapped at me as she spun to look at me, tears in her eyes. “That thing is still out there and will kill again unless I end it!” She held up her dad’s rifle as if to show me how she meant to “end it.” “I’m not leaving until I end that… Thing that had the balls to wear Sonja’s face and have her voice!”
“Ms. Blackwell, we will catch the killer, I promise, but right now, we need to get you home before your dad ends up killing a police officer for keeping him from looking for you.”
“I told him in my letter I’d be back tomorrow! I’m twenty-years-old, he can’t force me back home if I don’t want to! I just want to stop this thing before it-“
A howling in the distance cut Kate off. Coyote from what I could hear. If I couldn’t get Kate home, I’d have to get her somewhere safe. I turned to begin talking her down and taking her to one of the other two cabins for shelter. However, when I looked back at her, her face had turned to a bone chilling terror I’d never seen on a person before. She looked like hunted prey that had been found by its predator. She gripped her dad’s rifle to her chest tightly, her hand reaching for the trigger.
“Ms. Blackwell, it’s just a pack of coyote,” I tried telling her calmly, “let’s get to one of the other cabins and-“
“No, no, no,” She stopped me as she stepped back, looking around for where the howling was coming from, “I… Heard that same howling just before I saw Sonja! I thought it was far away, but she… She was right in front of me… She… Something was off, but it looked just like her!”
“Ms. Blackwell, you didn’t see Sonja,” I assured her, “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t-“
“Lucky… Dime…”
I froze. My blood turned to ice. The fear on Kate’s face grew as she began backing away, her back hitting the grave marker. I spun around to see a figure in the darkness limp toward us, a scratched and garbled familiar voice coming from it.
“Lucky… Dime…” It wheezed, “You brought her… Back… Give her… To me…”
I whipped out my gun, pointing it at this thing that had his voice. I stepped back to stand directly between this thing and Kate.
“Stay back!” I demanded. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Lucky… Di-“
“Shut up! Stop calling me that! Who are you? Not another step or I’ll shoot!”
The thing stopped limping toward us, its body shuddering in place as it stared us down. I took the safety off of my Glock, ready to blow this thing’s head off if it got any closer or even dared using that voice on me again.
“Kate…” It turned its attention to Kate, a completely different voice coming from it, another male’s voice. “Kate… I’m cold…”
“J-Jasper…” Kate began to sob, “Please, stop using their voices… Please stop!”
“Kate… Kate why did… Did you leave me…?” Another male voice asked. “I… I was in so much… Pain…”
“Shut up!” Kate cried out.
“I thought we… Were friends… Kate…” A female voice. “You said you… Loved me… Why won’t… You let me have… Your warmth…?”
“I said shut up!” Kate screamed as she pointed her rifle and shooting at the creature. She had missed, but the thing still let out an ear piercing shriek as it dodged out of the way of the bullets Kate was shooting. It ran off into the darkness, but Kate kept pulling the trigger of her rifle.
“Stop!” I shouted as I snatched the barrel of her rifle, shoving it to the ground before us. “It’s gone, you scared it off, get to the cabins, I’m right here with you!”
I began shoving Kate back toward where the cabins were, the sounds of that thing screaming out in a symphony of different voices ringing out throughout the woods. I shoved Kate into the first cabin we had arrived to, Cabin #1 I could only assume as I slammed the door shut behind us. It smelled God awful, like the smell of the corpse I found on my first murder case, and it was getting darker as the sun began to sink behind the trees outside.
“Detective, it smell terrible in here!” Kate cried out, covering her mouth and nose, but the tears still falling from her eyes were still visible as they rolled down her cheeks.
I pulled her close and kept her behind me as I took my gun and flashlight out. “Stay close to me,” I ordered, leading the way through the cabin, “do not run off or use that rifle without may say so, understood?”
Kate didn’t answer, but I could feel the heat from her body following after me as I made my toward the smell. It was getting worse as we inched closer to a closet door in a hallway that connected the living room to the kitchen. The door was locked, but after a couple of kicks I was able to get the door to swing open, the smell blasting us in our faces making us gag and nearly throw up on the floor. I fumbled around the sides inside the room to find a light switch that I was able to find to the side of the entryway. A yellow light flickered on, revealing the door led to a staircase. I led the way down the creaking steps, Kate close by as she kept her mouth covered with her shirt.
Once we had made our way to the bottom, Kate dropped her dad’s rifle and let out a scream as we stared at what was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. In a large pile at the corner of this basement room were nothing but skin and bones of humans and animals covered in maggots and flies. Some of the human bodies being small and child-like in size. The missing people who were never found after vanishing when they came to Cabin #2.
I grabbed Kate’s rifle off the floor and began pushing her back up the stairs, her screaming and sobbing all the way back up to the cabin. I slammed the door shut behind us and pushed Kate to the front door.
“We need to leave,” I had told her, trying to calm her down as we made it outside, “we need to get you home and away from here as soon as possible.”
“N-No… No!” She began fighting me, trying to escape my grasp on her. “No! That… That thing is still out there! You saw it! You can’t say you don’t believe me now! It even called you Lucky Dime! It said you brought me back!”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you!” I shot back. “I do, I saw exactly what you saw, but it’s way too dangerous for you to be out here while you’re the one it’s after!”
“I escaped it once, I can do it again!” Kate pointed out as she struggled against me while I tried getting her into my car. “I’m not running away this time, I want to kill it!”
“God damn it, Blackwell, we’ll let the police handle it! Just because you have a weapon doesn’t make you safe or ready to handle something like… Like that… That thing!”
“It killed my friends! It wants me! I’m going straight to it so I can blow its head off! It’ll come right for me!”
“I came here to bring you back home, not let you accomplish some stupid ass revenge plot! Get in the fucking car, unless you want to end up like those bodies down that-“
“D… De… Detect… Detective…”
A scratched and moaning voice cut me off. Kate and I both froze at the sound of something approaching. I turned to see a police officer stagger toward us from the tree line. I could barely tell who he was or who he used to be, his head held low and blue uniform covered in blood.
“H… Hel… Hel… Help… Help me…" It croaked as it stumbled closer.
I held up Kate's rifle. "Stay back!" I barked. "Not another step!"
The thing that stood before us wearing the cop like a full-bodied suit stopped in place. It swayed where it stood, blood water falling from its head and down to its chest.
"It… It… It's inside… Inside me…" It breathed painfully. "I… I can't… Help… Me…" Its voice then changed to that familiar voice that made my skin crawl. "Lucky… Dime… I… I'm so… Hungry… Give her… To… Me…"
I pulled the trigger of the rifle, hitting the creature in the head, the rest of it staggering backward from the blow. Still though, it remained on its feet, turning itself to look toward us once again.
"Give… Her… To… Me…" It wheeze, blood and brain pouring from where I had shot it, it beginning to stumble toward us once again. I continued shooting, hitting it in the shoulder, the arm, the leg, the head again, but it just kept coming toward us faster, demanding I give Kate to it.
I was about ready to ram it with the rifle, having run out of bullets, when a voice off in the distance made the creature freeze just an inch before us.
"I'm here! I'm here!" It called out in an almost sing-songy way, using the voice of a little girl. "I'm here! I'm here!"
"I'm… Here…" The creature repeated as it jerked its body to look to where the voice was coming from. "I'm here… I'm here… I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!" It began shrieking in a high pitch wail. It sounded like a mixture of different voices ranging from child, to woman, to man. Keeping flat on its feet, its upper body fell forward onto its hands before speedily crawling off like a spider.
We stood in shaking silence for a moment, Kate digging her fingers into my arm while I was too numb from shock to care about the pain she was unknowingly inflicting. It wasn’t until the radio from my car buzzed to life that jolted us back to whatever reality was at this point. I scrambled to the driver’s side, swinging the door open as I fell inside to grab the intercom to respond to the voice yelling for me over the receiver.
“Det. Snow, what the hell is going on up there?” The sheriff’s scratched voice called out over the receiver when I could barely get my name out of my mouth.
“Sh-Sh-Sheriff…?” Was all I could respond with, still trying to wrap my head around what I had just seen.
“Y-Y-Yeah,” he responded in mock shudder, “what the hell is going on up there? I’ve tried radioing every man I’ve got up there and am constantly being left on red! Do I need to send back-up?”
“No!” Immediately, I returned to full reality, finally understanding the severity of the moment and putting that knowledge into my tone. “Landon, do not send any more men up here, call everyone back immediately! I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s too dangerous! Call everyone back, we’re heading back to the Blackwell house now!”
“We?” The sheriff questioned, skepticism in his voice.
“I found Ms. Blackwell, she’s here with me.”
I was met with statice before the voice of Mr. Blackwell blasted over the intercom.
“Bring my daughter home, right now, you son of a bitch!” Mr. Blackwell demanded. “You bring her home this instant before I decide to kick your teeth in!”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the radio was snatched from my hand from Kate. “I’m not coming home until I kill this thing!” She snapped into the radio. “I don’t know what it is, but I at least know I’m not crazy and that it needs to die before it kills anyone else!”
I grabbed the radio from Kate’s hand, beginning to tell her off when a agonized scream erupted from the intercom. I dropped the radio to cover my ears as Kate did, the scream piercing from my car to throughout the forest around us. The voice screaming and crying for help sounded male and it seemed to echo all around us.
“GIVE HER TO ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” A mix of the screaming voice and Mr. Blackwell’s hissed out after a good five minutes of screaming before the radio short-circuited and puffs of smoke flowed out.
After allowing my ears to adjust to the sudden silence, I grabbed the radio once again and tried calling for the sheriff, for the cops with us in the mountains, for anyone. When I was met with more silence, I slammed the radio back down on the holder and cursed loudly, hitting the wheel as if it were the source of all my problems.
After a moment to take some deep breaths, I told Kate to get in the car as I placed her rifle in the back seat.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she shot back. “I’m not-“
“Damn it, Blackwell, we have no idea what we’re dealing with, it can mimic peoples’ voices, and it just ran off like a fucking black widow!” I snapped, stepping out of the driver’s seat to glare down at her. “The last thing I’m doing to leaving you here alone and I’m not staying here another second until I can wrap my head around what the fuck I just saw! So, you either get yourself killed out here while I try talking you down this hero complex high, or you’re going to do what I say and get in the damn car!”
We stood in heated silence, glaring each other down before Kate huffed and stormed over to the passenger side of my car and slamming the door shut as she climbed in. I jumped in after her and began driving away from this nutty nightmare I had found myself in.
We drove down the trail back to civilization in silence, Kate staring out the window and trying to keep her tearful sniffs quiet. I had finally begun calming down and was starting to feel bad for snapping at her. She had only gone there to avenge her friends by killing that thing that had most likely killed a whole bunch of cops to find her. However, I still couldn’t just let her stay to hunt it and I didn’t want to stay out in those mountains with some kind of creature that could take the form and voice of someone I knew. I still couldn’t understand what is was I had even seen.
“Wendigo,” Kate whispered, breaking the silence in the car first. She had said it as if she had just remembered something important.
“What?”
“A Wendigo,” She repeated, turning to look to me with wide scared eyes, “that’s what that thing is! It’s a Wendigo!”
“Slow down, what’s a Wendigo?”
“It’s… Oh, just forget it! You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Ms. Blackwell, I just saw a cop being used as a puppet and then run off at inhuman speed on all fours; I doubt I’m not going to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth now. What’s a Wendigo?”
Kate eyed me for a moment before releasing some of the tension from her face as she took a deep breath and began explaining to me. “They’re a Native American myth; it’s believed they’re the spirits of people who would lose themselves in the woods and would end up eating other people to satiate their hunger. I think that’s what that thing is. They can mimic the voices of people who died and use it to lure people to them, they can take the form of that person too.”
“Why does it want female hearts?” I asked, not realizing I had yet told her what my mysterious caller kept asking for when they called me.
“It… It wants my heart?” she asked shakily.
I cursed to myself before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I think this thing wants hearts, but it only wants female hearts. Why? I don’t know yet. But the only other person to be found after killing someone in those cabins was found with his partner’s heart missing to which he was blamed for taking out of her. Recently, I’ve been getting calls from some… Thing wanting me to bring you back here so it could take something from you. It would have taken Ms. Greymoore’s, but you hid her well enough that only the police could find her in time. Now, I’ve been getting calls asking for you and to get something from you.”
Kate looked to me in shock before a wave of guilt twisted her face in pain. “I… I’m so, so… So sorry, Detective!” She cried out. “I… I had… I had no idea you were being… Harassed by it! Had I known it wanted me back and was demanding you brought me here, I never… I didn’t… That’s why it said you brought me back! Oh, I’m such an idiot!” She pressed her hands to her face, grabbing at her hair between her fingers and tightening them around her eyes.
“No, no, no, stop, stop that!” I ordered, screeching the car to a halt, having to bring it to a crooked stop so I could stop her from hurting herself. I snatched her arms from her head and pinned them to her lap, tears flooding her face. “It’s my fault for not telling you sooner! I was too focused on trying to solve this case with the most efficient evidence I could, but that just kept me looking to you as a suspect. I should have stopped thinking you were the killer the moment I got that first call. There’s no way any of us could have seen… This coming… Except people who probably already believe in that kind of stuff or don’t stop to assume a more rational explanation like a cult… I’m… I’m sorry. But, I won’t let it take anything from you, not anymore. I’m going to get you home and then I’ll deal with this with the rest of the police department. You don’t have to deal with this thing anymore, it’ll be my burden from now on. You need time to finally get some rest and mourn your friends with your and their families. It’s already fucked your life up enough, I won’t let it go on making it worse.”
I stopped her before she could argue with me with a wave of my hand. “Your friends’ deaths shouldn’t be your burden to handle. I know you want to be the one who kills that thing and do right by them, but that’s not what they would want. They’d want you to remember them and continue living. They know you didn’t do it, so stop blaming yourself and stop acting like you’re the one who has to make it up to them. I will put an end to this die trying, but you need to go home and be with people who are happy you still get to live.”
Kate looked down at her hands that I kept down on her lap before nodding weakly and letting out a broken “okay.”
“Good, now let’s get you home before-“
My words were cut off when the honk of a car barreling toward us echoed through the woods. The headlights were fast approaching and I barely had time to grab the gear shift to put us back in drive as the other vehicle hit us, forcing us back and forth in one violent motion. It took me a moment to check myself to be sure I hadn’t hit my head on anything or got whiplash from the crash before I immediately returned my full attention to Kate who was kneeling over holding her head. I gently grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up to examine her head. It didn’t appear to have been busted and bleeding, but she was holding the front side of her forehead.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, prying her hand away from the spot on her forehead, seeing that it was beginning to bruise. “Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can understand me!”
“I… I’m f-fine…” she mumbled as she looked to her hand to check if there was blood on her palm, “I… I think I just… Hit… Hit the w-window…” She then blinked twice in my direction before looking to the car that had rammed us.
I turned my attention as well to the car to see it was a police van, it’s front crushed into the left of my front. I quickly jumped out my vehicle and stormed to the van, yelling at who ever was driving the van to come out and explain what the hell they were doing.
The driver’s side of the van swung open once I was near enough and a man in an orange jumpsuit climbed out, staring familiar daggers at me. The moment realization set in, my mixed emotions of confusion, frustration, and fear turned to fury.
It was Leighton Raines.
“Jesus, you really are a shitty detective.” Was all he said to me before reaching into the can and retrieving a rifle out from the passenger seat.
[END OF PART 1]
Part 6

Princess Rolaea fell into a seated position on the floor as her Steward was positioned next to her. The other soldiers who were captured from the team she had been leading were behind. “I demand to speak to your leader.” Growled the Karvrithak princess as the humans walked about, almost gloating at their catch.
“You’ll get your chance. I gotta make some calls first.” Came a voice from behind view. The older Karvrithak next to her fake cleared his throat to get the princess’ attention. “You know, princess. Now that we are captured.” To which Rolaea interjected, “I wouldn’t have been if you had done your duty.” Making the older Karvrithak pause in annoyance. “There were too many between me and you for me to have carried out that duty; I have to now follow the rules for… that.” The princess froze for a moment. “You can’t be serious, Sarvik.”
Sarvik nods without looking at the princess, instead looking for the man he saw fighting with her. “Our culture is built upon tradition, even ones you might not wish to be a part of. You were beaten in single combat by a male.” The princess interjects, “Not true. Two of our solders were fighting with me.” To which Sarvik nods, “Which makes it an even more impressive feat.” He gets a growl of annoyance in return.
A human woman walked over, hearing them talk, “What is going on over here?” sitting down on a crate in front of the prisoners. Sarvik looked at the human. “Ah, maybe you can help. Who was the one by himself during the fight.” Sitting up, the human smiled. “That would be our fearless leader. Didn’t want anyone to risk their life as our formation required four in front of you.” Rolaea sneered. “You mean your trap.”
The human gasped at the accusation, placing a hand on her chest in mock surprise. “Just because your senses were not keen enough to notice us doesn’t mean it was a trap. We even called out for you to surrender as you’re surrounded, and you chose to fight.” Getting a nod of agreement from the Steward, who got an elbow for agreeing with the human, causing a grunt of pain. “That spot is a little tender from the fight.” Which got another one from the princess: “That is for your failure in duty.”
The human woman pointed a finger at the pair as if they were children. “Don’t make me separate you two. So, you were speaking earlier.” And Sarvik nods, “Does your leader come from a noble bloodline.” Which made the human smirk. “He would say he does.” Before taking a moment to pose and take a mock tone of the rag-tag group's leader, “My grandfather would tell me stories of how we were descendants of Spartan kings of over 4,000 years.” Getting a laugh from the woman and a nod from Sarvik, “Is there any possibility that is true?” and the human shrug, “Could be. It was a long time ago, and I remember hearing something about how everyone is related to royalty in some way or another because of mixing.”
Rolaea smiles. “See, his bloodline is too diluted. Also, I never heard of the Spartans so how much of a warrior family could they be?” Getting another laugh from the woman “They weren’t a family. They were an entire culture who just became part of a country known as Greece. They never died out or went extinct, they just started calling themselves Greeks instead of Spartans.” Looking back and forth between the two, Sarah started to smile more as she realized what the conversation had been about.
Sarvik nodded in understanding. “I see. What were the beliefs of these Spartans?” Causing the human to think for a while, “Well, I remember hearing the only way to get your name on a grave is for men to have died in combat or women to have died during childbirth. Both were seen as a way of supporting Sparta. They were fierce warriors; often, just a single word could keep an army out of the country. Oh, and marriage was some kind of ritualistic combat, I think.” By this time, Nick walked over. “What is all this commotion.”
He looked around at a giggling Sarah, a stoic-looking male Karvrithak, and what he could only assume to be a blushing female Karvrithak. Sarah looked up. “Oh, just talking about Spartian marriage fighting.” To which Nick sighed, “It wasn’t combat. Spartan men would meet up with the women they found attractive during the night and take them back to their barracks or someplace else.” Sarvik tilted his head some. “Do you believe Rolaea to be attractive?” Getting a wide-eyed look from the princess, “Sarvik, you stop this right now.” The human male looked confused and looked over. “To be honest, I never really thought of a Karvrithak as beautiful or not, but… I mean, if we weren’t at war… maybe, kinda.”
Sarvik nodded once more. “Then it is settled, the combat took place at night, and it seems all the conditions for both cultures are met, or at least enough to be considered valid under the mixed cultures doctrine.” Nick looked even more confused as he looked at the male Karvrithak, then the female who looked ready to die from embarrassment, and his second in command Sarah, who looked ready to burst from laughter and when he remembered what they were talking about, marriage, got his own look of shock and horror “No no no no no no.”
Sarvik nods. “You are to be paired with Princess Rolaea.” Which was what Sarah needed to hear to burst out laughing finally and almost fell off the crate. The whole thing caused everyone to look over, prisoner and non-alike. Rolaea: “We are in agreement there, human. There is no way this is going to happen.” Sarvik took a deep breath. “I’m afraid, as Stewart of the royal family, it is my duty to inform your father.” Nick shook his head. “No, there is no way I can marry a furball.” Sarah, for her part, finally fell to the floor before managing to get something out that wasn’t laughter: “Bum bum bum bum.” To the tune of Here Comes the Bride getting a kick from Nick, which only returned her to her crazed laughing state, which by now, more people started figuring out what was going on, and some more laughter started, only one from the Karvrithak.
Rolaea turned to look at which one of her soldiers was laughing. “Whoever is laughing is going to have their tongue cut out.” Before turning to Nick, “If we kill Sarvik, no one will tell.” To which Sarah’s hand shot up, “I will.” And Sarvik nods. “We have a second in agreement from the groom’s side. We just have to contact your father. He will agree to the cease-fire the humans have been asking for.” Nick looks down. “We would have to kill more than Sarvak.” When a cough from behind caught his attention, causing Nick to look back. “Command finally answered.”
Nick took a deep breath and pointed a finger at the Karvrithaks. “No speaking.” And then pointed at Sarah, “Pull it together.” As the now out-of-breath woman took deep breaths to get it back, “Ok, ok. I’m done now.” Nick walked over and answered the line, talking about the success at capturing the high-value target in their area and how it was the princess.
After a few minutes of talking, Nick returned with a different look on his face, and Sarah wiped her eyes, having cried from laughing so hard. “Oh, I don’t think I can survive another laughing fit like that. It was too funny.” Nick took a deep breath, causing Sarah to look up in amused horror as Nick spoke, “Command told me to contact the Karvrithaks and use any means necessary to get them to agree to the cease-fire.” And Sarah smirked while holding in her laughter and got slapped upside the head for it.
She screamed in pain, “What was that for?” and Nick smiled. “You said if you started laughing, you were going to die. I just saved your life.” Taking a deep breath, Sarah nods. “I guess, but you could have held back.” Rolaea’s embarrassment died down enough that she started to glare at Nick. “If you think for a second, I will marry you. I would rather die!” Nick held a finger up and bopped Rolaea on the nose to silence her. “Not getting married.” Turned to Sarvik, “Going to get Tony to agree to a cease-fire anyway.” And then turned to Sarah, “Someone is getting a demotion.” To which she replied, “Worth it.”
Nick sighed and walked away to a secluded area he and Sarah would talk, and Sarah started to follow. “Though, I’m in agreement with killing the princess; it will be a nice revenge for everything the furballs have done to us since the war started.” A hand going to her sidearm. Nick turned to her “Put it away, I don’t like the idea either. It could at least be enough of a distraction to get the upper hand or get some end to this war.” Sarah looked at him seriously for the first time since starting the conversation with the aliens. Nick nods. “You have a weird way of grieving, you know that. Your humor was bad before, but this is twisted. No, we are not going to plan a red wedding. We’ll use it as a cover to regroup and.”
Sarah groaned out of frustration. “Why are we even listening to the human collation? They abandoned us, and then when our resistance group got good enough, they contacted us and started demanding we follow their orders.” Nick nods. “Ya, not like they started giving us intel, equipment, trained soldiers,” causing Sarah to stop him. “Ok, ok, you made your point… still… marriage?”
Nick shrugs at that. “When we started fighting, I thought about how men used to throw themselves on grenades to save others… I’ve always been ready to do that…. I guess to save lives, I’ll have to take an arrow to the knee.” Before starting to walk back in, a smile returned to Sarah’s face; without turning, Nick simply said, “Knew that would get that cursed smile back.”
The two Karvrithaks had been arguing again, with the princess drowning out the stewart whenever he tried to give the transmission frequency to contact the king. Nick picked up a clean… ish rag and shoved it into the princess’ mouth. “Alright, fine I accept.” Getting a muffled scream of anger from the princess followed by what was surely an obscenity-filled tongue lashing, defeated by a rag. Sarvick looked at Nick, angry for the first time. “We might be your prisoners, but that is no way to treat the princess or your future wife.” Nick nods some. “Would you like me to remove it and risk going deaf in that ear?” Pointing to the one that was on the side of the princess. A momentary glance from Sarvik at the princess who was still trying to yell between attempts to remove the rag stuck on her sharp teeth, got a “For now. The signal frequency is 195.2515.234.202. Also, I would refrain from using your human slur for our leader. He doesn’t much like being compared to a human breakfast cereal mascot.”
Nick nods, then helps Sarvik to his feet and turns to Sarah. “I could use my second in command.” Gets a sigh of annoyance as she rebuttons the strap holding her sidearm while standing. “OK.” After approaching the coms the operator puts in the frequency and releasing Sarvick’s hands he types in a code as the image of the king of the Karvrithaks comes on with a roar of a statement “How dare you lay a hand on my daughter if she is not returned to me within one earth hour I will glass the planet as I would rather see her dead than at the mercy of you lowly.” As Nick decided to throw him off his game, “Calm down, Dad.” Causing the king to stop. “What did you call me, and why is Sarvik standing next to you?”
Sarvik coughed to grab the attention of the group and to make this more noble than commoner “It is with much honor and regret that I have to inform you that this human has successfully completed the right of binding.” This information caused the King’s lower Jaw to drop, and Sarah chimed in, “Funny you mentioned hand earlier because he’s taking your daughter’s hand in marriage.” The king looked outraged. “You’re going to cut her hand off for marriage!?” and Sarvik raised a hand. “It is a figure of speech, Your Majesty. Humans call grabbing another’s hand with your own taking. Often done before the rings are placed on the hand of the one being wed.” Nick and Sarah both turn to look at Sarvik, who doesn’t turn his head. “A steward must be informed on all relevant information.”
Nick turns back to the king. “As your future son-in-law, I ask that you have your forces stand down. Don’t want to accidentally kill a relative of mine, do you?” The king let out a low growl of annoyance as a spitting sound was heard behind the group. The princess finally worked the rag out of her mouth. “I object to this wedding.” only getting a yell in response: “I can’t stop it. If Sarvik has said the terms have been met, I would have to break years of tradition and condemn our bloodline to death to break it.”
The two humans went wide-eyed as they didn’t realize how seriously the Karvrithaks took their tradition. Turning his head, the king spoke solemnly, “Tell our generals to stand down and to return fire if fired upon.” The coms operator relayed the message to the human command, which quickly ordered a similar command. Turning back, the King looked like he was about ready to reach through the screen and strangle him. “Know this, human, if you have lied about your intent. I was originally planning on subjugating the humans, but I will exterminate your species if you are lying.” And Nick swallowed hard at the sudden realization that his plan of using this as a cover for the human forces to regroup was a bigger gamble than he first thought. Sarah smirked and turned to look up at Nick. “No pressure.”

Male 31 5 11 210 lbs All tests done and the abnormal results: Endoscopy Colonoscopy Abdominal ultrasound Ct head without contrast Ecg(wildly different results but no doctor has said anything about them) Stress test (blood pressure was 237/67 so had to stop Holter monitor (normal) Ct chest Ct pelvis Ct abdomen x 8 (small fat containing ventral hernia, l5 pars defects spondylothesis level 1 one scan said mural wall thickening and they said i had gastritis) Gastric emptying study
I've been to the ER and doctors office quite a bit for this but have only seen mid level practitioners mostly and have been waiting months for specialists. i really need help with understanding what could be wrong. in the last 4 months it started as severe epigastric abdominal pain and "fainting" where my ears would start to ring my vision would become grey and blurry and i would start to loose conciousness but not entirely. I've had 4 episodes of the "fainting" one was accompanied by severe sweating, i was drenched in sweat within 1 minute. I have these attacks that happen where i feel uneasy and have had stomach pain where its difficult to identify where exactly its coming from and then i feel a sense of doom and like im going to die and start to cough and throw up and then i have the "fainting" it peaks and i power through the fainting and then it subsides after about 30 minutes and i am left with severe weakness and constant stomach pain. I have had labs done initially the only abnormal labs were: Lactate 2.8 Elevated bilirubin Elevated protein (this has been constant) Elevated globulin Elevated cortisol Elevated renin
Other labs that have been checked and are normal are Fecal elastase Parasite stool HepAtic panel (besides bilirubin the one time) Lipase Cbc come back normal besides in February i had an infection of some sort. Occasionally low sodium and high calcium Ferritin B12 T4 Tsh Parathyroid
The lactate returned to normal within the same day and hasn't been checked again
In February i had severe elevated white counts and an infection with "left shift" i was tachycardic and was treated with iv antibiotics.
Ive had 14 ct scans all of which have showed nothing besides a ventral hernia and diverticulitis and l5 pars defects This all started in december after a month long strep infection and month long covid infection back to back ive had my gallbladder removed in 2020 and the surgery was complicated i had necrosis and an abcess. The months before this started i had severe diarrhea that wouldn't stop i noticed my food was coming out undigested and I couldn't have a solid stool then i got sick and when i was over covid i was smoking a cigarette coughed extremely forcefully and then about 5 minutes later had the first "fainting" episode which was terrifying. I went to the hospital right away and they chest for a pulmonary embolism since this one episode ive had severe stomach pain that i cant readily identify where its coming from, it feels as though i am missing an essential nutrient or enzyme that is keeping me from thriving.
I have lost 50lbs in the last 4 months it has been difficult to eat.
I feel extremely fatigued mostly due to this abdominal pain and i feel as though i am confused alot of the time, doctors have told me i am fine and to wait for the specialists I have an appointment for an oncologist/hemotologist a cradiology cta scan and for a hida scan but im not sure its any of these things, i feel as though i am dying because i am missing a vitamin of some sort i feel awful I don't know how long i can deal with this weaknesss and pain. I wake up with pain and sleeping doesnt make me feel rested. I also have went from sleeping 9 to 10 hours a day to 6 to 7 since this has started. I am so weak and starting to become delirious over this all I am very worried and appreciate any insight.

Ser Malwyn Blackwood - Third Moon of 24AC, Raventree Hall. Ambience
The man stood patiently in front of the door, a sigh coming out of his mouth. It wasn't long until the door opened, and the young Blackwood left the room and looked at him.
"He's awake now, uncle." Was all Edwyn said before turning his back to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and leaving him there.
Malwyn was left there, looking at the door, ajar. He questioned whether or not coming here had been worth it, but nonetheless, he took a step into the room.
The stench suddenly assaulted his nostrils. A rancid smell of shit, but there was also the smell of the festering wound. It was how he imagined the seven hells to smell like. He instinctively covered his nose and took a step towards the bed, where his brother lay. He had been bedridden for half a year, or so Edwyn told him.
"H-Harys? Bring me some water" The 'Lord' mumbled, as he looked at Malwyn, but seemed to be staring at the wall behind him, rather than at the knight himself.
"It is me, brother" Malwyn said, hoping he'd understand.
"Malwyn?" The man tried to rise to a sitting. He failed, and gave up quickly "What are you doing here, you craven" The man coughed blood on his sheets.
The knight shook his head "I see this was a mistake-"
"Wait! I remember now" Malwyn raised an eyebrow. The wound had turned his once ruthless bastard of a brother into a... mess, simply.
"I'm dying, brother" Desmond began "I can see that" the knight replied.
"Edwyn... He is young, inexperienced. Raventree Hall should've fallen on Cerion's hands, or Addam's, had they not been slaughtered by those bastards of Stone Hedge" Malwyn nodded as the dying man spoke
"And what does that have to do with me?" Malwyn replied. They both know the Bloodwood had ceased to be a Blackwood the moment Riverrun burned.
"He doesn't know..." The Lord coughed blood yet again, this time wheezing for a good ten seconds. "Aegon, the Tullys, the Brackens... Ryger, Grafton..."
Malwyn smirked. "You never told him? All he was told is that the Tullys killed Aegon and his kneeler of an uncle betrayed them?"
Desmond coughed, and with the help of both hands, he managed to crawl backward and sit against the bed's headboard. The bandages on the man's chest were of a yellowish-red hue and were certainly the source of the stench, one of them, at least. "You did betray them"
"I saved you, you fool" Malwyn replied, a sentence spite filled. "Hadn't I done that, all would have been revealed. You always blamed me for that, but I did it to keep you safe." Malwyn took a deep breath, his quick flurry of words had left him breathless. "Fuck, I thought you to be smarter than that"
Desmond looked at Malwyn with an expression of grief. The image he had of his brother had been shattered in an instant. "W-what do you mean?" He nervously shifted where he sat "Why not blame the Brackens?"
"Has that wound eaten your brain too? The moment one falls, the other does too. Do you think Queen Visenya listened to me out of trust? Had I chosen to blame those bastards, they would've cried that we too were involved, it would've led to both our destructions."
Desmond silently looked at his brother, an incredulous look in his face, then coughed. Then again, and again, and again, until he couldn't do anything but cough. The Kingsguard took a few steps towards his brother and placed his hand on the Lord's shoulder. Desmond quickly grasped Malwyn by his collar and shook him with the little strength he had.
"Protect him! The Horse will strike! He then clutched his chest and gasped for air. "Mother! Mother save me!" He yelped. He felt silent for a few seconds, eyes closed, before opening them again and looking at Malwyn's face, extending a hand to touch it. "F-father?" He said "Can I ride Beholder tomorrow?"
Malwyn shook his head, said nothing else, and left the room, calling for a servant to tend his brother as he walked away.

Hey, i was diagnosed just 4 months ago with asthma after months of coughing, shortness of breath and a few relatively light attacks that i thought were panic attacks at the time (they only happened when i was very stressed) I was put on symbicort treatment and it seems to have diminished my symptoms (and improved my blood oxygen level or however you call it). I had a handful of attacks ever since (from stress again) but ventolin made them go away fast.
So far so good, but yesterday i reaaaally wanted to catch my bus and i sprinted for honestly 20 seconds max. I am in ok shape but i don't do sports, and this tiny sprint was too much of an effort i guess. My breathing became much more difficult right away, i started wheezing but thank god i had my ventolin. I didn't even get my bus btw, and i suffered from chaotic public transport for a total of 2 hours before i finally got home and managed to feel safe and really calm down.
These whole 2 hours, i was so terrified, crying and feeling like i couldn't breathe quite properly even if the worst part ended after i took my ventolin the first time (i took it 3 times in 1hr i think). I didn't feel like it was necessary to call for medical help though.
This was the first time i got an attack due to physical effort, and id never had such a severe attack. I felt so weak physically, even just walking demanded so much effort. I'm in my early twenties and i had never felt so weak. When i got home i slept a little then didn't do much of my day cause i felt very tired. Today after a good night's sleep i still feel like i can't focus on anything and i also started crying out of the blue.
I think the combo of having an attack, it being the most severe id ever had, it happening in public, and spending so much time in public before ending up in a safe space really messed me up both physically and mentally.
Has anyone ever felt that way or should i be worried? I am new to this so i have no idea how bad it is. I would like to just rest and take care of myself but i really have to study, i don't have the time for this. But i feel so so bad. Thanks to anyone who took the time to read, i know this was long.

"Explain your past, Musa" the gov'ness walks at my right, shielding my from the piercing sun as we walks with the caravan. After the trench was dismantled, we are walking by foot to reach the capital, as the trench-line have been pushed far into our homeland.
"I was a cook when the war started, gov'ness" and now I am left wondering why did she chose me from anyone else in the caravan, there's the sergeant, the whom she asked to see earlier today.
"You have been trusted to cook rations for your company, as early as the war?" her baroque companion, similarly donned in her armor, walks close by ours, but never overtook us.
"No, gov'ness, I was a 10 years old when the war started, the war went for seven years and I fought for the last two" before she came, with weapons of the stars that could've decimate my trench instead of theirs
"Such a young man you are, seven years ago, the Emperor grants me audience, revealing that I was his progenitor"
This talk about an "imperium" across the stars and the deified emperor has gotten me worried. Is that her reason for talking to me, to ease my pain before sending me to the stars far from here? Or simply an act of pity?
The meager town came into view, and was it not for the ancient structure, we would've thought this was anywhere but the capital. Gray skies and beaten earth have become the synonym for the heart of Nagorow.
"I must say, this was not our expectation when your leader came into contact with my ship, begging for salvation" the gov'ness depart from me, and my instinct was to follow her, but who am I to her? And so I stay put and follow the rest of the caravan back to the main camp.
"You're lucky to have an audience with the Lady, runt" one of gov'ness' companion knocked me to the dirt, assuming that he's doing it out of spite and jealousy. I can see him walking to gov'ness
"I apologize for my companion's doing" another of gov'ness', as he extends his fingers that allowed me to stand to my feet "Lucius was indeed jealous, he was our best melee combatant and our Primarch haven't even bat an eye for him"
"Is that a rare thing?" Lucius and the gov'ness seems to enter the structure, doing their business there. I quickly glance at my watch, the gray sky seems to be forever, and it shows 1641. And I quickly look back at the gov'ness companion
"It is, perhaps Mother saw something within you, perhaps yours was interesting at the moment" the giant release his helmet, letting his bronze hair free from the confine "I am Rylanor, pleasure to meet you, Musa"
"As is mine, gov'nor"
The Sejm was delightful in seeing Fulgrim and her companions, as well as the news of the apparent victory on the frontlines. Such delight warrants them to spent their moneys on a grand feast right at the capital, inviting everyone within range to attend, with the guest of honor being the gov'ness herself.
"I would have thought you are with Mother, Musa" Rylanor brought two plates in his palm, the plate whom was enough for me was made miniscule by his hands, each contained meager food they could thrown
"Thanks, gov'nor" the feast gives us chair to sit, yet here I stand with him, outside of the building. Somehow the gov'nor chose to make a companion out of me, whilst gov'ness over there busy herself with her empire in the suns.
"I almost forgot what a food taste, Musa, back in the campaign, we would be served liquid ration with occasional starch" I took a look at him, and his plate was already cleaned
"You should try my cooking then, I cook better"
We let a simple laugh from the situation, from a soldier to another, from a human to another too. The door barges open and whom I thought to be Lucius emerge, escaping the feast.
"It's obnoxious inside, Rylanor, if you wish to see me, then don't, I'm heading to the nearest landing coordinate" and went he goes, somewhere place only he, gov'nor and gov'ness know. Something that I would not understand no matter how much gov'nor taught me.
"I have to agree with dear Lucius there" and speak of the gov'ness, and she shall came, looking at the horizon "they barely separate the nobility and the peasant"
I didn't mean to stare, but gov'ness wore something fine, something you'd see from paintings high in temple's ceiling, an ascendant of man. Looking carefully, it seems she wore old Nagorovian dress and modify it to suit her stature, or rather, her figure. She need not a corset, it seems.
"The food is delectable, Mother" Rylanor already took my plate without my knowing, something that I relent
"Every food is delectable when you are starved of them, dear Rylanor"
We all watched as a star suddenly rose at the horizon, perhaps something to do with Lucius and his departure. I suppose this is our future, being shackled by another uncaring emperor to fight the dangers of mankind.
"Say, Rylanor, but does that star seems approaching us?" and behind Lucius' ascend, a second star indeed looks as if its getting nearer. Just before I respond, nor gov'nor did for that matter, the air raid sirens blare and screech
"It is too late to dodge the missile, Mother, and I am the only one still wearing my armor, I would suggest taking a shield behind me" Rylanor easily stood and tower over us. I didn't even wait as I quickly take cover.
"Don't be ridiculous, Rylanor, these brutes couldn't even muster the technology to weaponize simple nuclear reaction" Rylanor didn't wait and cover me with his entire figure, and I just prayed that whatever nuclear is nor what reaction it cause would not be as devastating as I'd fear.
The moment of impact was blurry, but there was an apparent pain riddled to it, as the temperature rose akin to a sun blasting us with the heat. Like what was drilled into my head, I quickly wrap my entire face with anything, covering up the assuredly loud aftermath and the shrapnel flying around. I couldn't hear
And I wish I wouldn't hear
By the time the air around began to cool, my throat was hoarse, as if I have been shouting the entire time. It wasn't until I noticed the spasmic movement on my mouth that I realized, I have been barking around.
"At ease, gov'nor, at ease lads" I chanted
"It seems it was a nuclear explosion, Mother, albeit a primitive version of it" Rylanor seems to ignore my rant, addressing the gov'ness instead. He then release me, before coughing up liquids right at my face "apologies" he mumbles
"Be damned your humor, Rylanor" I hear the gov'ness, rasping in breath as I slowly gather my senses "Musa, you lived it seems" my eyes were blinking rapidly, due to the heat and the dust it caused "oh Rylanor, I apologized for your condition".
When my eyes fully recovered, I saw only desolation. No Man's Land was gentler than this, water and mud found refuge within them after all. But what I saw was beyond it, ruins and dry earth, trees and building charred, and people would likely evaporate. Peoples, on whom I was fighting with and fighting for, for two damned years. I couldn't take it anymore, first Maria and now this? Fate was far too cruel
Liquid barge through my mouth, followed close by every air in my lungs and waters in my eyes. There was no rythym, only that I was doing it in instinct, lying on all fours at the stairs near the gov'nor and gov'ness.
Only then did I brave to stand up, looking at them and the impact it caused. Gov'nor seems to be stuck in his place, unable to move as his hair rotted away and flesh melts to his armor. Now I understand why did he puke. The gov'ness was way less impacted, as her clothing burnt with the flesh on her skins, with her lying on her back.
"Cease your staring, Musa" she quickly commanded
"Yes ma'am" I quickly slap my cheek, a soldier need to finish his duties until the bitter end, and the enemy was no better after all "orders, gov'ness?"
"You're waiting for my orders?" she slowly sat herself, throwing out blood from her mouth while her arms sizzle and creates smoke "so it seems, help me get to one of landing coordinates" when she did sat, she saw her own legs, crushed from the debris of the railings and burnt to crisp "it seems I would have to relegate the matter of combat to you"
"Private Musa at the ready, gov'ness" so soon to serve this faraway empire, and my first duty is to escape the chaos that will ensue. And first, I need to find a cart or I will be carrying the giant on my back
"Musa, before you go" Rylanor rasp and wheeze as he reach for something, before he carved it with letters and numbers "you are familiar with latitudes and longitudes of your planet, I assume, and if not then you can ask Mother for direction" he gave me the knife, on which he have engraved numbers.
"And what will happen to you, gov'nor?" I took the knife and pocket it, then looking back at the gov'ness
"I will be fine, Musa, all I ask is that you deliver Mother there to the place, and rest assured that you will be awarded"
I ignore the last part, something about the futility in wealth and glory that I realized, living as a cook my entire life before becoming a soldier taught me that. I quickly strip my clothing, and though I have to face the cold soon, finding the gov'ness means of transportation is more valuable. I quickly wrapped the gov'ness legs with a shirt, then I cut another of my shirt into pieces before I wrapped it at her so I can carry her off, my suspender helped in holding her together too
"Something tells me I won't enjoy the journey" Fulgrim murmurs as she rest on my shoulder
"Be safe Mother, I pray that Musa will be sufficient to you"

31F - 130lbs - Active
I’m going to explain this the best I can, I don’t say anything to anyone because it sounds crazy to me and I don’t think I’ll get anywhere with it. But probably mostly embarrassed to even bring it up.
I get deja vu, like intense deja vu I think..to the point I stop with what ever I am doing and get really confused with what is going on. The impending doom feeling comes on and I cant pinpoint why I am having it or finish the thoughts of the deja vu I guess? If someone is with me I usually just say I had deja vu and I feel weird/sick. Like I need to throw up. It’s the worst feeling I’ve experienced.
Some instances I remember off the top of my head right now with age and what I was doing:
23 - marching on military parade deck, but I completely blacked out and was still functioning and came back to and thought I was going to throw up.
24 - during a uniform inspection
28 - shopping in a shoe store with a boyfriend at the time
31 (last night) - hanging up led lights behind my tv
*Medication
Vyvanse 20mg - 17 y.o until about 20 years old. Pause on that medication while in the military. Prescribed 20mg again at 30 y.o., only take on work days.
Synthroid .075mcg - diagnosed with Hashimotos Disease 2021.
Lexapro 15mg to 2.5mg - For anxiety November 2023. Coming off of it, currently at 2.5mg.
“Happy V” Pre and Probiotic
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Sensory things that I’ve noticed over the years but having a boyfriend move in I’ve noticed it more and he’s pointed them out as well.

• The feeling of loose/detached hair touching me. In the shower when hair is stuck on my body, a hair on a piece of clothing but I can feel it on my skin. I stop everything and have to find it, get it off. I gag if I see it in the shower, won’t clean out drains, struggle to clean out hairbrush. My. Own. Clean. Hair.
  
• Can’t walk bare foot on hardwood/tile floors. I will walk on my tippy toes.
  
• Certain fabrics I can’t touch, clothes come immediately off when I get home. Change to an oversized/loose hoody. Socks especially come off.
  
• If I notice a raise in my skin like a scab or pimple, I will end up making it a dang wound because I focus on it and will pick.
  
• Certain noises make me physically angry I feel like? Sniffing, throat coughs, dogs licking skin, scratching skin, people picking their nails, loud yawns. (I feel like Lexapro maybe helped this a little.)
  
• I gag if I smell something I don’t like or if someone talks about something gross. (I really noticed this after starting Lexapro)
  
• Multiple people talking at once, or just a loud environment, I get overwhelmed and have to leave. Loud music. No music when I’m working or cleaning.
  
• Just very particular about a lot of things.
  

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I’m just sitting here like how the f did I make it through the military.
I have a great job and friends and family/social life. I’m just confused and concerned, mainly about the deja vu thing but sensory things affect me greatly too.
Thanks in advance for your feedback and I will answer any questions!

Okay so, let me start with they changed the sickness policy to 3 occasions in 12 months instead 3 occasions in 3 months. I was throwing up 2 weeks ago really badly and had to call in sick. So that’s 1 occasion already, now I’m having a sore chest with a really bad cough like I’m coughing every 3 minutes, if I call in sick that’s going to be my 2nd occasion what if I’m sick 2 more times in this year?! Can I get fired? I know I might get a disciplinary but I’m just worried

She wakes up and acts like coughing and wheezing are a sign of illness. YOU SMOKE YOU FUCKING IDIOT. I only smoke green and hack a lung first thing. Her lungs just went through 3 days straight of smoke…you ain’t gonna feel good girl. Also…you are in your 30’s. The first 20 minutes are always gonna feel off you fucking moron

I’ll never understand why women are religious. I understand why men are, after all, they are the gods. They are the superiors and we are just the r*apebait, baby making slaves right?
Religions women disgust me. No self-respecting man would ever follow a religion that only/ mainly has female gods, that worships females, that calls females the creators, that has a “father” but can never acc mention that father, that constantly says that they are inferior to women, that men were the cause of the original sin/ that they are rhe root of evil cuz 1 (made up) “person” messed up and now everyone born their gender will have a painful and fucked up life, and so on and so forth. So why do women do it?
This is one of womens’ many flaws imo. Too forgiving. And because of that, i think that religions are right in saying that women are “obedient”. More men are atheists than women. It should be the other way around but women just wont leave this toxic relationship.
Im south asian. Almost all my family is hindu, and i sort of practised it too until i was about 10, then became an atheist. I am 19 now and have everlasting trauma and self-hate from those 10 years and just learning more about the different religions makes them hate them and my self more and more and more and more.
There is a ceremony that some people preform when a girl gets her first period. Absolutely barbaric and this was my breaking point to making me become an atheist. It’s basically am advertisement and it’s lowkey pedophilic cuz the whole idea of it is that they invite everyone and basically say “i have a daughter who can now have kids. So men, come up, and take a gander at her”. Basically saying that this 7-12 yr old is old enough for marriage and to have kids. And it just gives off “if she’s old enough to bleed, she’s old enough to breed” vibes.
And ofc men dont have anything this humiliating cuz why would they? Men actually have DIGNITY in this world that tries to shame, belittle and degrade women from the time we are born!
Oh and also right after i got it. Like the second after i got my first one. My stupid mom called all of her family and told them even when i told her not to. NO RESPECT FOR ME
I never did this stupid thing. I had to fight my parents to not do it and i dont regret what i did. BUT after not doing it, people (random ass family members mainly) would COME UP TO ME AND ASK ME IF I “WAS NORMAL” … NORMAL. THAT IS THE EXACT WORDING THEY USED. ASKED ME IF ANYTHING WAS “WRONG” with me! The answer is no. BUT WHY IS THAT ANYONES BUSINESS. WHY SHOULD MY BUSINESS BE SHARED TO ALL THESE PEOPLE WHO I DONT EVEN KNOW LIKE THIS? Like even if i did have endo or didnt get a period for whatever reason or whatever, THAT WOULD NOT MAKE ME “not NORMAL”. Do we treat anyone else with other diseases/ illnesses like this?! Do we tell people with cancer that they are “not normal”. NO BECAUSE THEY DONT CONTROL THAT (not in every case). They for the most part have condolences and best wishes. but the SECOND it is something that affects cis women, SOCIETY SHAMES THEM INSTEAD OF RESPECTING THEIR PRIVACY OR SHOWING THEM PITY OR CONCERN OR GIVING THEM USEFUL/ WANTED ADVICE
When you are on you period, you are “unclean” and apparently spread cooties or something idk. Just such childish thinking. Cuz ive had family members Litterally SNEEZE AND COUGH IN FOOD or cough without covering their mouths and my mom turns a blind eye to it. Defends them. Says theres nothing wrong and that they are not “actually sick”. But BUT …. If i am on my period and want to touch my own clothes in my own closet. Or if i had just finished my period and haven’t showered yet and go to touch my clothes, TELL ME WHY MY MOM THROWS A HISSY FIT TANTRUM GOING OFF ABOUT HOW IM “CONTAMINATING” all mu clothes and that everything ive touched now had to be washed ?!?!!?!!!?!!???? GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
YELLS AT ME FOR GOING TO THE KITCHEN IN MY OWN HOUSE. YELLS AT ME FOR PASSING THE PRAYER ROOM TO GET TO MY OWN BED ROOM. Like she knew she was raised like this and that she would do that to me. Should have just had an abortion (im from canada) the second she found out that i wasn’t a precious, clean baby boy , but instead am a dirty, impure female.
UK WHAT, just search up what “period huts” are on google 😀 and all the LITTERAL DEATHS THEY CAUSE CUZ PEOPLE WANNA BANISH GIRLS FROM THEIR HOMES FOR SOMETHING WE CAN NOT CONTROL NOT EVEN ALLOWED IN YOUR OWN HOME AND YOU ARE REDUCED TO A STRAY ANIMAL FOR YOUR PERIOD. In fact, despite the fact that these people throw those huge parties to announce a first period, periods are VERY taboo in south asia. To the point where women cant even have/ use pads or carry pads around so they have to resort to using cloth and leaves WHICH CAUSES INFECTIONS
WE HATE OUR GIRLS SO MUCH AND EVERYTHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH THEM THAT WE WOULD RATHER KILL THEM OR MAKE THEM TERRIBLY SICK THAN HELP THEM! Im crying writing this cuz im honestly at a loss for words.
That said, i dont think that hinduism is the worst one out there. There are definitely worse ones but this was just my experience and i needed to vent and maybe teach others some things and give reasons as to why we shouldn’t be following these MAN MADE LIES!

TL:DR: 3 days past due date, been very stressed for the past month. Birth doula suggested my stress hormones may be the reason, blocking labour from starting. Looking for stories where by re having a day of relaxing potentially brought on your on labour?
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I am 40+2 with my second baby. I also have a toddler and needless to say, life is busy. My first w as a week late and I had to be induced as my body did nothing on its own to go into labour. This time around, I’ve been 1 cm dilated with a soft but high cervix since 39 weeks. It seems like history is bound to repeat itself and I desperately want to avoid being induced (I developed high BP at 40+3 with my first and my induction took three days but I did ultimately deliver naturally and everyone was healthy.)
This pregnancy has been more stressful than my first. Just taking the last month as an example, baby was breech and I tried ALL the things to flip her. I spent almost a thousand dollars (and a lot of time and energy) on various massage, physiotherapy, chiro and acupuncture treatments (thank god for my husbands amazing work benefits I got it all back), and between 34-37 weeks I basically was entirely focused on flipping her. I am especially motivated for a vaginal birth because due to health issues, I am not allowed to get a spinal or epidural so if I need a c-section it will need to be done under general anesthesia and that would mean both me and my husband would miss my daughter being born which breaks my heart. So, for over a month I was stressing constantly about her position. Somewhere in there I started my maternity leave a bit early too because with my husband and I both working full time, I had done barely anything to prepare for having this baby around the house, so between everything, I was working my butt off at home to prep for baby. Basically the plan was for an ECV at 37 weeks exactly if nothing else worked (spoiler: nothing worked). Just before the ECV, my toddler brought home a nasty daycare virus which I caught and the ECV was postponed until 37+5 when I was feeling (temporarily) better. Fortunately baby flipped easily however in the process she must have landed in a bad spot for my pelvis, because as I was walking out of the hospital with my newly flipped baby, my left SI joint went “out” and I could hardly walk. Cue me needing to use a cane and limping around the next 3+ weeks (I can still just barely weight-bear on that side and I’m just generally in constant pain, sleeping in a bed is torture). Then I woke up the day after my ECV to find that my cold had turned into a bad sinus infection and bronchitis, but because I only swabbed positive for rhinovirus in L&D, no one would give me an antibiotic despite me having a history of sinus infections. I could barely breathe, wheezed constantly, could not lay flat without massive coughing fits (so was sleeping maybe 2-3 hours a night sitting up) and strained all my abdominal muscles. This went on for 5 days until finally my GP agreed to give me an antibiotic and puffer. It took a full week on that for my symptoms to completely resolve. Over those 5 days before I got the antibiotic I also made 4 more trips to L&D, one for high BP which came down on its own, one for thinking my water broke (turns out I just peed from coughing) and two for reduced fetal movement related to dehydration (they gave me fluids and baby’s HR came back down to normal). Overlying that has been the constant worry that baby will somehow flip back to being breech or transverse (fortunately she has stayed head down). The past two weeks I’ve primarily spent cleaning/nesting and going to various appointments to try and fix my pelvic pain to no avail. Then on my due date this past Thursday, my toddler comes home yet again with green runny nose and I am just terrified now of getting sick yet again.
SO. Needless to say, I have been under a lot of stress. I completely online birthing classes and decided to reach out to the instructor to ask for suggestions on how to get my labour going to hopefully avoid an induction. After hearing just a fraction of what I’ve been through, she suggested that. I will not be able to walk myself into labour (despite my hip pain I have remained active for the sake of keeping baby head down and getting labour going). She said that potentially it is a mental block preventing my labour from progressing, noting that stress hormones work against labour hormones. Honestly, it makes sense to me since I still feel stressed and exhausted, I keep thinking “ok baby don’t come tonight, just let me get one good nights sleep first”…only for me to sleep like shit yet again.
So I’m going to focus on trying to relax tomorrow (Sunday). I would love to read some stories from people who think that relaxing was the key to getting their labour going. I feel like I see all the stories about how walking or nesting induced labour but nothing about how just chilling might have been what was needed.

A week or so ago my cat started hiding in her little house all the time. This isn't the first time she started acting strange. A few months ago she went upstairs and stayed for a month. A vet visit for that led to the vet believing she might be developing arthritis in her back legs (she's 11 and a tripod, he said sometimes they'll develop mild arthritis once they hit 10 or so).
So I thought maybe she's just not feeling great. Then I noticed she was going two or three days between litter box visits, and having difficulty passing stool. Normally she goes at minimum once a day. Another vet trip last Friday. They couldn't find anything physically wrong, blood work was fine. I asked about a bowel obstruction but they said because she was eating her normal amount and not throwing up it was probably just constipation and older cats often have trouble with it. I came home with some medicine for both arthritis and constipation.
She's still hiding in her house, but now she's sneezing a whole lot. This started last night. Runny nose but no coughing and no eye gunk. I wonder if she picked up something from the vet, or if the stress of two vet visits coupled with joint pain is causing her to hide in her little house and sneeze. She's an only cat and 100% indoors. She doesn't go outside for any amount of time.
She's still not using the litter box as often as before. Everything coming out of her body is normal. No blood, no mucus, and stools are no longer dry. She still has a good appetite, but this morning she threw up everything she ate after scarfing her food down. She hasn't thrown up again, and has been slowly eating her food all day. I made her catnip tea last night and wonder if that has anything to do with her throwing up this morning.
She normally follows us around and screams for attention until someone picks her up to carry her like a baby, or sleeps on top of the couch or her cat tower. She's been in her little house for over two weeks, except to eat and do a slow lap around the house.
When I call the vet Monday, what should I say? Should I take her, or do you think I can get what I need stopping by the office? I'm so afraid of putting more stress on her. She only leaves the house to go to the vet, and her little body shakes so hard with fear. I can get her some antibiotics without having to take her, but should I push for x-rays? Or is the vet right and it's stress from aging?

This reddit has been a treasure trove of information and support. We have seen many stories of other families who are enduring a hard, long few months with a reflux baby. Thank you for helping us feel less crazy and like others understand.
In our experience, we found there isn't a lot of helpful information about how to help a baby going through reflux and how to know if your baby might have reflux. So, we wanted to share our experience in hopes that you will feel less alone and maybe encouraged too!
If you want the story, here it is! If not, skip to the bottom section.
Feeding has been a difficult journey since our daughter was born. She lost over 10% of her weight in 2 days (I am told that is normal for breastfed babies). So, the lactation consultants encouraged me to begin pumping after every feed to increase supply, or 12 times a day. I did this for 4 weeks. While my supply eventually came in, feeding continued to be immensely difficult. After 7 lactation appointments and multiple appointments with the pediatrician, we were greatly discouraged. By the time our daughter was 8 weeks old, she would scream every feed and feeds would take close to two hours. Even giving her a bottle of breastmilk would take more than an hour for her to finish. I was ready to throw in the towel on breastfeeding because I was devastated at how difficult it was. Our daughter would scream and cry more than 10 hours a day. It was awful. I also experienced lots of nipple pain around this time, which added to the frustration.
When our daughter was 8 weeks old, our pediatrician referred us to an Occupational Therapist thinking her suck reflex might have issues. We had a 3 hour appointment with the Occupational Therapist who assessed that she did have some issues with tongue positioning when swallowing and a shallow latch, but her assessment was that reflux was the biggest problem our daughter was facing. We began doing exercises for the latch and tongue issues. Because of the OT's assessment, our doctor prescribed Famotidine for our baby. Now, our baby is almost 12 weeks and is very happy! Breastfeeding is one of her favorite things and is a good experience for us both! She eats in under 30 minutes and most feeds are joyful. There are still hard reflux days where she is unhappy and struggles to latch, but overall it is much better!
Here are the top things we learned:

1. We learned the signs of reflux our LO was experiencing. For her reflux looked like: Clearing her throat, latching then quickly unlatching, throwing her head back, crying as if she was in pain, tons of spit up (even 30 minutes after she ate), and she needed to be burped a lot.
   
2. Our baby developed a fear of reflux which led to a fear of eating. She became defensive during nursing, despite her hunger because she was afraid of acid coming up. She also limited her eating because with reflux she would experience more acid when her stomach was full. So, this was a key reason why our LO fought eating. Knowing she was in pain definitely gave me more grace and patience, but it was so sad to discover that she was afraid to eat.
   
3. We began to choose a baby-led feeding position
   

In the hospital, I was taught the football feeding position and was told to smash her face into the boob so she would latch. Many lactation appointments confirmed this. However, for our reflux baby, this added fear because she would try to pull away but I wouldn’t understand her cue. We learned from the occupational therapist that the baby has to trust that I see her cues of struggle so she can regroup before taking in more milk. This meant, we had to do a breastfeeding position where I was not holding her head and where she could have more freedom to pull away as she needed.
For breastfeeding we did a side-by-side position. Where the baby lays on her side right next to me. This gives her the freedom to pull away as needed. Once we rebuilt trust, I was able to do a cross-cradle position. I still do not hold her head. She can pull away as needed.
We also do this with the bottle. We started with her mostly sitting up, leaned against pillows. When reflux started to bother her, she could pull away and then come back when she was ready.

1. With our LO, we developed a mantra: When it doubt, pull it out

Anytime we think LO is having trouble and might cough/choke, we started pulling off the breast or tilting the bottle to give her a break.
For our LO, choking means more frustration and fear of nursing. I was concerned she wouldn’t latch back on, but I found it is much better to give her a break then to push her.

1. Burping

Our LO needed lot of burping. Here's our signs she needed burped immediately: clearing her throat, anytime she starts wiggling a lot, anytime she is choking or coughing, etc.
We got into the habit of always burping every 10mL of the bottle or 4-5 minutes on the breast. I also burp in between sides.

1. Upright positions make a big difference for our LO

We keep her upright for 20 minutes after a feed so she doesn’t have as much burning acid come up. It’s our way of helping her keep it down.
We had to plan when we'd do tummy time and diaper changes so that our LO wasn't at risk of spit-up (or hiccups). We did it before feeds or after holding upright for a while.

1. We learned to use a pacifier or LO's hand to help her keep the reflux down

For our girl, we found the swallow reflex can be used with a "dry nipple" (finger, pacifier, etc) to get her to continually swallow. This helps the reflux stay down for her! You and I do it all the time to keep stomach nasties from coming back up.

1. Celebrate every minute of baby sleep you get

A well rested baby eats so much better. Our LO was much more patient with us during this difficult work of feeding when she had a good nap. Give yourself grace if all you can do is contact naps.

1. Our experience with Famotidine (Pepcid)

We saw some results immediately.
We saw better results after 5 days
We saw great results after 14 days.
All babies cry. This won't change that. But it's nothing like it was before. Our LO does not throw her head back and most feeds are very positive. She's still fussy in the evening, but that can be normal for all babies.
We think we notice when it wears off, right now we're on a single dose per day. The last feed before her dose, she usually struggles. But that's nothing compared to how it was.

1. Help your Dr. by eliminating all uncertainty that it truly is a reflux problem.

We have a great pediatrician! But how do you know if a patient really does need medication when there might be something less drastic that would solve the problem? It really helped our dr. that we gave her a detailed account of the symptoms and timing of our LO's problems. It also helped that we happened to need to bottle feed our LO in front of the dr and it was terrible! The dr could see for herself what it was. I also cut dairy and regulated caffeine early. This helped our dr. be confident that a reflux medication was the best next step. We haven't added dairy back in yet. Just happy things are better right now.

1. Don't be afraid to advocate for you and your baby.

No one will care about your baby as much as you do. Lactation, pediatrics, OT, every professional has a specific purpose and goal that's aligned with what they know best. But YOU are the kid-expert. Trust your gut. If you think something isn't working or your LO isn't alright, advocate. Lactation will hope for a completely breast-fed baby. Which is a wonderful thing. But what's most important is that your baby is happy and healthy no matter how that happens. Formula, pumped, or breast-fed. Many pediatricians will be concerned with the child's development. We hit our milestones, but it came a huge cost of time with 120 minute feeds each time, and very little sleep. Make sure that ALL medical professionals giving you important advice knows your LO's backstory. We made some mistakes with this... That's another post. Taking good notes helped our occupational therapist spot the problem over time.
And when you try new things, get some sort of timeline of how long to try it before there be improvement. Find out if the medication or technique should work after a week or a month. This will help you manage your expectations when you might be feeling hopeless.

1. Know your milestones

It is normal for certain weeks to be challenging. Knowing our milestones helped us understand the full picture of what our LO was experiencing, not just reflux related. And, it gave us hope that some of the misery wouldn't last forever. Haha.
Non reflux-related breastfeeding lessons

1. Pump-related

I hurt so bad from pumping and I assumed that was normal. I went through weeks of blanched nipples and very significant nipple pain only to discover I wasn't pumping correctly! Make sure to measure your nipples for your flange size. If you are working with a lactation consultant, they can help with this. Also, I learned to check the breast pump manual to learn about the settings. I have now made some adjustments to the settings. Now that I have discovered these things, my nipple pain has gone away.

1. Shame when breastfeeding isn't working

I experienced a lot of shame and guilt when breastfeeding wasn't going well. I thought I was a terrible mom and I felt embarrassed that something that should be natural and easy was a nightmare. That led me down all kinds of destructive thoughts, fearing that I wouldn't be a good mom moving forward because this area was hard. I had to learn to reframe things. I had to start to see that any volume of milk my reflux LO got was a win. I had to discipline myself to not compare myself to other moms who could breastfeed in public for less than 10 minutes while I had to make sure to feed in the car, knowing my LO would take over an hour and cry nonstop. I had to learn that if a feed wasn't going well, it isn't a failure to decide to offer a bottle to help LO fill up more quickly. Honestly, I had to learn to lay aside my expectations and do what worked. And, I had to have my identity not wrapped around breastfeeding and my child's success. Just as my LO struggled in this area, she will struggle with more things in the future. I will be a better mom if I can love her through it without feeling shame for where she is at. Having a supportive, loving husband greatly helped when I wanted to throw in the towel. I also found that talking with my counselor and having a space to remember the truth about my baby (i.e. her struggling to breastfeed is because of the reflux, not because I am a bad mom), greatly helped my mental health and my relationship with my baby.
It is the end of week 11 for us and it has changed dramatically for the better! We are on week 3 of the Famotidine. Our baby smiles all the time and is a joy to be around. I am beginning to like being a mom, which I couldn't imagine 2 weeks ago. People say things get better at week 12 and we didn't believe them. We felt hopeless. For us, it actually did get better. But, we know that isn't everyone's story. Regardless of how long you have been struggling with a reflux baby, it is incredibly hard on the whole family. And, I don't know when it will get better for you. My prayer is that it will get better for you very soon because it sucks and is awful. In the meantime, I hope this post helps in some way or at least helps you know that someone else in the world gets where you are coming from.

You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

I guess I’m here to vent and share my story with others who get it.. because it’s hard for me to talk about with family or friends because no one understands and explaining things over and over just feels like losing more energy honestly. I’m welcoming all suggestions since you have been through it.
My baby is 16 weeks and has not had a “good day” since he’s been born. Over 100 days fighting for him and watching him struggle. We tried breastmilk, multiple formulas, and settled on Neocate syneo almost 3 months ago which cleared up a few of his more scary symptoms, but he still has most of them. So many visits doctors have told me his symptoms are normal, but didn’t take the time to really listen or watch what has been going on with him, which makes me feel like I’m being a overprotective mom, or that I’m crazy losing my mind, but things are clearly not right. Finally his ped sees that he’s truly struggling and sent a referral for GI since she had no knowledge on cmpa or what to do for him next and she said “I thought he would have outgrown it by now and the Pepcid isn’t helping” I have wanted to cry and scream at her at the same time because I feel like she truly neglected my baby while I have watched him suffer😢
He was unsettled since birth.. he was ready to eat right away, but struggled so much. We tried breastmilk, Bobbie, gentle ease, nutramigen, and Neocate syneo. Pepcid, increase dosage Pepcid, increase frequency Pepcid, gas drops, gripe water, changing bottles, probiotics, changing nipple flow, keeping upright. Literally everything.
I’m so lost and it hurts to watch my baby suffer.
Current symptoms: GI discomfort - Eating every 2-4 hours besides at night, 45 minutes up to 2 hours to eat 4oz.
Throwing up projectile. Coughing then forcefully vomit half or whole bottle.
Spit up constantly.
Arching back in pain when feeding and after screaming so loud.
Poop so very loose and mucousy since birth, and worsening over time. Yellow liquid or dark green with black streaks or green with yellow seeds. Has never been formed. Horrible sour smell like vinegar or rotten eggs. Clearly in pain when pushing or when he is struggling to go. Either can barely poop once a day or will go 5x a day.
He was eating 5-6 oz, eating less oz now 3-4 still taking an hour and screaming when seeing bottle close to him. Screaming when getting into feeding position.
Hard to settle and screaming loud until passing out. Not full enough to sleep long periods.
It’s been 2 weeks since increasing Pepcid but on it for 12 weeks and 12 weeks on amino acid formula - Neocate syneo.
Have to distract to eat - change position, sing, shh, takes 45-60+ minutes Unlatches quickly Crying in feeding position Arching back fussy
Since birth not 1 good happy feed without crying or pain. Has lessened over time but getting worse again
First 2 months couldn’t be put down, tummy time, bath, diaper, sleep unless held without absolutely screaming and losing it - sometimes these days can lay flat. First month awake 2-3 hours sleep 30 minutes
I was giving a time to see if it would get better, but it’s not getting better and some situations are getting worse. The things that have gotten better are not having an immediate reaction when eating - he had swollen eyelids, severe immediate rash and lingering eczema, and difficulty breathing. He will sleep now without being held. I’m thankful for the improvements, but I’m so heartbroken that things are not getting “normal” for him. It seemed like the Neocate syneo would be good for him but he’s not good.
It just seems like nothing is helping and it’s all trial and error. My baby is almost 4 months and it’s been a painful blur.
The “solutions” I have come up with through research - changing to Prevacid or Prilosec for the reflux. Changing to alfamino (but super scared since it has soy oil) since it doesn’t have coconut, or switching to rtf alitenium (but super scared since it has milk), or trying regular Neocate since some babies struggle with the pro/prebiotics in the syneo.. which feels like the safest option since he had such trouble with milk and soy. Or the fear of something else being completely wrong and causing his pain and mucous. I just feel defeated with how things are going. But also so scared to change things again.

SYNOPSIS: Walking your OP monster girlfriend home is easy. No one messes with you. Getting back to your house on your own? That's the tricky part.
What's worse than an eldritch building? How 'bout a bigger one?
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Chapter Cover Art (From Mood Writing Sample)
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Norman took one look at the towering building to his left. Then he took off.
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“̷̵̵̷̶̷̶̶̸̶̶̸̴̡̛̮͉̹̪̼̙̤̲̤͔̗̮̥̣̜͓̟̞̃̔̈́̑̈̍͌̂̂̐̋͛̉̓G̵̶̸̷̴̸̵̵̴̶̸̷̸̴̶̨̢̧̞͈̠̜̳̪͎̬̜̱̫͚̝̩̑̒͐́͆̃̿̉̆̉̃̓̀̎̐͂̎̒̕̕͘͝͝Ǵ̷̷̷̴̸̸̷̷̷̷̵̨̢̞̥͓̰͖͙̰̝͖̩̺͍͎͉͌̽̂́͐̓̀͒̐͗́M̴̷̶̵̴̷̵̶̵̴̷̷̢̡̧̢̛̫̲͕͇̗̯͚̥͙͓͓̀̒͑͒̂̊̅̐͛̂̄͌̈̚͝M̴̷̶̵̴̷̷̶̷̬̼̭̗͍̺̳̩̱͍̂̄̾͂̔̽̇̀͝͝͝͠M̶̯̙̥͕̞̰̗̗͐̔!̸̞̞̬̼̖̩̈́̇͊͐̾͑͋̉!̷̧͈̘̬̆͑͝!̶̤̜̔̓̆̅̔͆͘͝”̸̨̧̼̭̫̒͜

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The new hunting cry boomed through his body. It was much louder than the first building’s, albeit shorter, like a tap on the shoulder from a titan proclaiming its presence to the world.
Of course, the tap of a titan could flatten a man.
Norman fell. His legs had simply stopped working. Jaws clenched, he forced his will into wobbly muscles. His palms slammed into the waterlogged street, stopping the fall. With a sharp push, he sprang back to his feet and ran on.
Norman yanked out the remaining two flash grenades on the go, strung them together, armed and drew back for a throw.
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“̷̬̳̙̍̎̆G̴̥͇̥͔͕̫̈̀M̵̛͇̜͙͇̫͔̭̩̝̜̓̈̏̓̓̀͛̚͜͝͝M̷̩͈͉̘͙̿͌̃̽͂̃̏̏̓̾̈́͌̈́̉̅̄̉͘!̷̢̧̢̤͓̭̖̝̏̏̄̓̾̉̆͋͘͝!̵͍̱̼̮̯̺̲͙̖̮̗͓̻̓̊͂̒̔͐̎͘͘̚!̵̙͍̟̌͒̃͂̎͠”̶̡̛̠̱̭̞̹̟͉̒̎̎̂͂̐̈́̓̄̚̕

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That quick boom pounded through him. His fingers faltered. The flash grenades slipped from his grip and fell. He was still recovering from the sound when they went off at his feet. The nightsight filtered the flash, so he didn’t go blind. He’d gutted the flash grenade’s speakers, so he didn’t go deaf. The peeping building could deafen him all on its own … no, this wasn’t a peeping building. He’d slew a peeping building. They were small fries by comparison.
This was an eyescraper.
Tentacles the width of busses unsheathed from its sides. Even if he’d managed to launch the grenades and bathe it in smitelight, he suspected that wouldn’t be enough.
Norman sliced at its eyes with a focused beam. It barely flinched. Maybe if it got close enough, he could affect it a bit. By then, it would be too late.
Throbbing chuffs thundered from the monster. It sounded like a laugh.
Norman shot it a defiant glare. He bolted. Not fast enough. He could feel the giant closing in. So, he moved faster. Then faster, and still faster. His muscles blared their warnings. Rain lashed his face. He felt the air begin to resist his movements as he reached a speed at which it mattered. It was in his way, so he pushed through it too. No one was there to tell him he was moving far faster than any human known to history. All he cared about was hearing that thing fall behind him, and so it did. The tremours of its tremendous movements grew fainter.
At the end of the street, an apartment building came into view. Norman threw himself against it, climbing with the reckless abandon of a madman. He was halfway to the top.
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“̷̧̨̭̹̘̥̮͖̤̻̥̬̌̀͒̔͌̊̀̚͜͜͠Ǧ̶̨̨̧̺̘̰̗̘̥̝̗̦̩͖͎͋̈͑͐̒̽̉̔͛̾̒́̕ͅM̴̨̉́̾̉͂͆̔̿̀̃̇̎̍͆̂̽͗̔͘͠ͅM̷̝̻̱̆̍͜!̴̮̬̯̮̦̖́͂̆͋̿̇̎̄̄̅̂͑̎̀̕͘͝͝͝!̸̲͎̲̼̠̮̱͖̥̭̤̩͓̘̜͈̟̖̮̰̦͖̀̂͗͂̽̈́̋͌͂̐̓̈̕!̸̜̆̿̋̔̽̕”̷̢̦̜̰̼̳̝͓̆͗̈́̆̆̑̃̾͑̀͗͒͆́͐͒̈́̿̽̕̕͜

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His grip went limp. He fell. Struck the ground. His head bounced. The world grew fu...z z y.
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_CHAT

• LEMMY.OUTA.HERE: (Stupse) Well, he ded.
• BAJANETTE11: ARN74, JUST GO AND FIND HIM!!!
• ARN74: HE DIDN’T SEND ME DE PIN! DIS BAAARE STRESS! NORMAN, YOU PUNK! YOU EMOTIONALLY INVESTED ME IN THIS CHANNEL! IF YOU DIE NOW I’M GONNA KILL YOU!

Something was yapping in the background, but it wasn’t important. He felt fine. Everything was fine. Why not rest? Why was he even-?

_CHAT

• ARN74: YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T LEAVE AMY!!

What? No he didn’t! Promises weren’t for trolls! Why would he leave Amy anyway?
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“̸̼͔̖̜̫͍͚̊́̽͆̓̂̋̋͐̕Ģ̴̢͕͉̯̺̗̖͔͙̪͓̻̯̫̭̙̱͕̠̭̩̌M̸̨̧̘̟̹̖̻̲͍̭͓͉̰͙̦̣̜͉̻̎̅͗̇̈́̈̏͌̓̾̀̈̈́͜M̵̢̢̖̯̦͍͕̝̯̥̹̪̠̥̰̝̖̊͛̀̇͜!̵̢̡̡͚͕̘̟͕̥̦̪͆̈́̿͆!̴̛̹͈̜̥͔̬͎̪̩͚̦̯̟̘̩̰̳̍̑̂́̌͌̎́̒͋̽̿̑͌͝͝!̴̛̥͕̪͂̂̂̈̓͆͗̇̄̈́̌̅̎͂̕̚̕͝͠”̷̧̧̛̠̝̰̞̘͙̥̖͎̭̞̜̳̟̓͆̌̊̃̔́͒͋̇̈́͘̚͠͝ͅ
.
.
Oh, right. There was a skyscraper running him down. To think he lived in a world where that made any sense. He rubbed his throbbing head. It was hard to think, though.

_CHAT

• ARN74: TRY AN CLIMB DE TING OPPA!

Brain fog would have to wait.
In two twos he jumped onto the side of the building and kept going up and up without breaking the momentum of the leap. Adrenaline had challenged gravity. Gravity lost. There was no pause to assess handholds. There was no rain stinging his face. In his mind, there was only ‘CLIMB, CLIMB, CLIMB!’ Crest the rooftop. ‘RUN, RUN, RUN!’ Descend the other side ‘JUMP!’ Gravity greedily reclaimed Norman, dragging him 4 storeys down at breakneck speed. He hit the ground in a parkour roll. Bruised a bone. Nearly fractured a shoulder. Wrenched his spine. Joints, muscle, ligaments almost popped. They didn’t.
He was running again.
Norman had never heard a building shred like paper. He’d never thought to wonder what it sounded like.
*( ( BMMM! ) ) ( ( BMM! ) ) ( ( BOOM! ) ) \*

SHHHHHRRRRRRMMMM!

Now he knew.
Those booms … was it the eyescraper’s tentacles breaking the sound barrier, or punching holes through the apartment building? Maybe both. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was tearing the building in two with the ease of one parting curtains. Buildings were not designed to be parted. Two became legions as the sundered building collapsed.
Norman rushed for an abandoned truck, slid beneath the trailer. Not quite fast enough. Most of the rubble didn’t reach him directly, but upon hitting the ground? It pulverised into a blast of cloud like a sandstorm. Hissing beneath the trailer, the dust stung at his ankles. He ignored it, racing for the truck’s cabin at the front. Perched on the step beneath the door, he braced as the dust raced beneath, around and above him. The cabin was his shield. He flinched to a duck when its windows shattered as the dust cloud blasted straight through them. The truck rocked and slid slightly, bombarded by wind and dust. It lurched as a chunk of debris finally reached it, crumpling the trailer like cheap foil.
Time to move.
Particles prickled Norman’s eyes, finding their way through the nightsight. He took a fresh glimpse of the path ahead before clouds of grey engulfed it all.
Memorised.
He dashed on. A split second later, the cabin was levelled under a larger slab of concrete. More sporadically thundered down around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, denying entry to any more particles. He scrambled through the street, dodging obstacles from memory. As for the concrete rainfall that couldn’t be seen? He had some prayers about that, but it probably came out like half-baked gibberish.
Norman chanced opening his eyes. They watered like crazy. At least most of the dust was gone. Behind him, the eyescraper’s menacing silhouette was picking through the rubble. Finally, an unblocked street was in sight. He rounded the corner.
.
“̵̨̢̮͕̻̲̺́͠G̵̣̒́̓̽̅̊͘͝Ọ̷̝̣͓͙͔̀ͅͅǪ̷̜̺͚̲̯̭̈́̍͂͑̋̋̅͂̅́M̷̨̤̭͈̯̤͋̾̏̈̅̉̀̏͘M̵̡̢̙̱͌̊̓͒́͌Ḿ̸̳͗̀̀͐͒͗́͠ͅ!̷͍͉̣̪̫͙̳̲̤̎̀̾̅̈́̔̎̑͘͜͝͝!̴̨͈͖̘̖̅͛̋̽͠!̸͎̩͓̫̥̼̫̊”̵̫̗̞̣̝̃̅̕͘͜͜͝ͅ
.
Another peeping building, rumbling in from the new street. Alright. Straight it was.
.
“̷̢̧̻̹͚͔̾G̵̳̭̾̃̎̍̌̂̈́̂͛͘M̶̧̠͇͔͚͉̮͈̰͒͊́̏̔̄̾̊͐̒͂͜M̸̳͓̋͋̔͑̔̔̕͝Ő̷͓̟̱̮͓̍̂̾̽̇͘͠Ô̸̧̫͉̮͚̥̥̯̈̾͋̅͂͘̚M̶̢̫̥̰̮̪͙̬̙̗̺̽͒͐͌̋̈̄͆͝M̴̢̧̧̛̗͔͓̫̭̳̱͑̉!̵̡̛̛͍̲̓̅̑̈́̿̏͘̕͠!̸̧̖͔̣̩̏́͋̀͛͂̏̀̇̑͐!̴̧͕̝̮̤̱͈̬͋”̸͓̉̈́̑̎͊̌
.
Maybe not. A third building emerged from the rainfall ahead. All streets blocked. He glanced about. All alleys still blocked. This really was a hunting net, but this much energy for a tiny human? Predators weren’t usually like this.
He ran for the nearest building that wasn’t occupied by eldritch calamari.

( ( BOOMM! ) )

The eyescraper’s tentacle crossed his path. Its supersonic shockwave sent him flying.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Norman came to. Rain poured against his face as he lay on his back. How long was he out? Why was it so cold? The atmosphere didn’t quite feel right. It didn’t look right either. Something about the colours, or subtle lack thereof. Everything seemed a bit desaturated. Norman sat up and coughed his lungs out, evicting a mix of dust and rain water collected in his slackly gaping mouth. Buildings towered above him on every side, a bit too close for comfort.
.

“̸̮̼͍̻̯̲̹͓̬̻̓̍G̷̛̖̙̰̰̟̓Ḿ̸̧̨͊̊̔͒͌̆͆͘͠͝M̷̧̺̏̿̆͑͆͋̅͌̕͝G̵̰̺͇̺̯̲͇̠͖͂͜M̸̡̨͕̹̗̥̎͑́̾!̸͇͙͚̝̩͕̙̒!̵͙̬̮̪̏̍!̶͔̪͉̙̘̃̐̄͝”̶̡̡̥̫̻̝̜̫͙̩͛ͅ

.
Oh, right, those weren’t just buildings.
Norman raised a finger, gesturing to wait. “Could you *kaff!* quit subwoofin’ at me for, like, ten seconds!”
“Plucky.̵͚͐͝ for all seasons I .̵̦̺͐̅see,” came a skin-crawling voice from behind him.
Norman swung back his smitelight. It barely moved half a foot, then it stopped. Rather, something stopped it. That ‘something’ was cold. So cold. His wrist felt the chill without even touching it.
Norman turned, slowly, so as not to trigger further attacks. He found himself looking up.
Eight feet tall. Dark grey skin. A grin that went a little too wide. Dagger teeth. An open-chested jacket, revealing sinewy muscles with luminous markings like tattoos. His ebony eyes bore penetrating white pupils. Of all his traits, the dreadlocks stood out most. They belonged in a nightmare, dancing through the air with a life of their own. Somehow, they looked blacker than black, absorbing every ray of light or heat that came their way. That icy chill in the air shifted with the movements of his dreadlocks. They seemed to drink life from the air itself. Norman almost found it hard to breathe. One dreadlock clutched Norman’s smitelight, only by the tip, but its grip was iron.
Norman stared the tall man down.
The nyctal’s grin grew by a smidgeon.
Taking a calculated risk, Norman released the smitelight. Perhaps a peace offering would do good.
“Good.̷̧͋͌̎̿ boy,” the tall man nodded, admiring the smitelight as the dreadlock rotated it. “Clever.̴̧̤̩͈͓̖͂ͅ toy.”
Norman noted an understated Jamaican accent in his voice.
More dreadlocks slithered across the smitelight, as if tasting its every nook and cranny.
Norman did his best to look casual as he scanned for an escape route. The eyescraper’s tentacles had wrapped around the street, fencing him in.

_CHAT

• BAJANETTE11: 😳
• DARCIE222: okay, i’m back
• HARD-BACK-M8N: who you is again?
• DARCIE222: i left after the twilight angel sleep paralysis
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: And you’re back for more?
• DARCIE222: wonna know it impossible to stay away from a channel like dis

Norman looked at the tall nyctal again.

_CHAT

• DARCIE222: 😲 WHO IS THAT?!? AND WHY IS HE KIND OF …??? 😍
• MUNSTER-VERSER: I KNOW!!!
• BAJANETTE11: HE LIKE A VAMPIRE RASTA MAN! ❤❤❤
• ENTO_MOLLY: MOVE OVER MIGUEL O’HARA!! 😍🥰😘
• BAJANETTE11: NORMAN ASK FOR HE NUMBER!!!
• NORMAN: I HERE ABOUT TO DIE AND WONNA WANT HE PHONE NUMBER!?!

The nyctal’s eyes shifted to Norman inquisitively. He frowned, raising an eyebrow as the comments piled up. Finally, he smirked mischievously.
“Your fanbase has peculiar tastes,” purred the tall man.

_CHAT

• ENTO_MOLLY: 😳 Is … he talking about us? HE CAN SEE THE CHAT???
• DARCIE222: THE WAY HE SAID IT!!!
• DARCIE222: HBVJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJKL;K''
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Did she just pass out on the keyboard?
• LIKKLE-BOY: lol!
• ARN74: you’re simping. Norman’s about to die, and you’re simping

The tall man handed Norman his smitelight.
Norman’s suspicious gaze flicked between the nyctal and the weapon. Finally, he reached out and took hold of the smitelight.
It crumbled in his fingers like ice-cold ashes. If not for the insulation gloves, he might have gotten frostbite.
The nyctal laughed.
Norman didn’t find it particularly amusing.
The tall man sauntered towards the eyescraper. Beyond it was a darkness even the nightsight had difficulty piercing. He beckoned Norman as if it were an afterthought.
“Please come in, .̵̭̻͌̓̂Norman.̶̲͕͇̅̑̚,” the nyctal instructed.
Norman stared stubbornly, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. He felt for his smartphone. It wasn’t there. When had he lost it?
Without looking back, the nyctal held up Norman’s phone. It disintegrated between his fingers as he rubbed them together.
Norman glared. At least the guy hadn’t pickpocketed deeply enough to find other things.
“Hey. To whom do I owe the … pleasure?” Norman almost had to push the last word through his teeth.
The nyctal stopped in the eyescraper’s doorframe. Shrouded in shadow, little could be seen of him, save the piercing white pupils peering out. Then the glint of his Cheshire grin.
“.̴̜͓̭̻̤̍̈́̆͑͑John Crow.̸̻̮̓̈́̏̓͘,” he answered, before receding into the darkness.
The eyescraper’s tentacles dragged in across the street, corralling Norman towards the building. With an exasperated groan, he trudged towards the main entrance.
“I want my bed,” grumbled Norman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
"Hell yeah, I wanna go exploring." Jason says to Calanthra with a smile. "How do we navigate around Ripspace though? Traveling to other galaxies is going to take billions of years, right? Surely, there's a shortcut."
"Ripspace is not as it seems." Calanthra explains, gesturing grandly to the epic sight before them. "It is a connection between the past and the present; the near and far. The further away or the further back you want to travel, the higher the price you will have to pay."
Jason's smile vanishes. "Wait... you can use Ripspace to travel back in time?!"
"No." Calanthra clarifies. "Time is linear. We cannot travel through it. Some can slow it down or speed it up. A rare few can even pause it for a short while. But moving forward and backward is impossible. Countless have attempted to do so over the eons, but all have failed."
She looks at Jason meaningfully. "Many Rulers would wipe out galaxies if it might let them obtain such a power. The fact they still haven't proves it is impossible."
Jason nods slowly. "I won't lie. I have a lot of regrets. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and save my daughter from dying."
"Everyone has regrets." Calanthra muses, looking off into the distance. "I have plenty, myself. But it's better this way. There would be pandemonium if time travel ever became possible."
She pauses before continuing with her explanation. "While we cannot go back in time, we can look back into time. Pinpointing exact moments in history is difficult, to say the least, but it is possible to use Ripspace to search for key moments in intergalactic history."
"So it's like a massive seer-stone." Jason muses aloud. "But wait, didn't you imply earlier that you used Ripspace to travel to the Milky Way from Andromeda? How does it allow you to jump between galaxies? Are other species using Ripspace for intergalactic travel?"
"You can indeed use Ripspace to travel to distant reaches of space." Calanthra explains. "But... you have to pay a certain price. Akasha's Barriers still protect every galaxy. Cosmics cannot travel between them easily. Mortals can, but the price we must pay is unimaginably steep. That is also the reason my mother perished not long after arriving in the Milky Way and giving birth to me."
The Fairy Monarch sighs softly.
"My people used the power of Ripspace to travel to several other galaxies. We were fortunate that the Creator had died, allowing us to take up residence here in secret, but the Angels, Titans, and Dragons were still a threat we could not overlook. Later, the Volgrim rose up too, and that was something that worried us for a while. Particularly when their Sentinels began to rapaciously erase the lives of innumerable Sentients."
She waves her hand. "Ultimately, very few galaxies didn't have a Ruler in power. Traveling to one that did meant flipping a coin and praying our people could avoid their gaze. Sadly, time has shown me that we were likely unsuccessful. I have lost contact with all my sisters across the cosmos."
The image of innumerable galaxies floating in the distance changes before Jason's eyes. Calanthra manipulates some unseen power, causing herself and Jason to suddenly materialize directly in front of a beautiful spiral galaxy.
"This is our Milky Way." Calanthra explains, waving her hand to conjure another, far bigger galaxy beside it. "And this is Andromeda."
"Is it just me or does Andromeda seem... brighter?" Jason asks.
"Andromeda contains far more interstellar particles, cosmic energy, and latent magical power than the Milky Way." Calanthra says. "Of course, in the ancient past, it had even more than it does now, but such is the way of entropy and Chaos."
Jason nods. "How exactly do galaxies lose power over time? Doesn't this feel self-defeating in a way?"
"Every Ruler enters the Unending War with a strategy." Calanthra says, motioning with her hands to disperse the galaxies and reveal images of ghostly creatures, some standing on two legs, some on four, and plenty that appear as mere blobs of energy. "I cannot pretend to know the thoughts of such high and mighty beings, especially as I am a mere mortal myself. Even so, I can definitively state that there are Rulers who seek to put as much galactic energy into their initial creations as possible, while others wish to adopt a more energy-efficient growth-model."
She pokes her finger against Jason's chest. "Take the angels and humans, for instance. The Creator poured the vast majority of his power into creating a galaxy full of Apex Cosmics. At their peak, the angels as a whole commanded enough power to flatten other galaxies. But what did they do instead? They fought with one another, killing themselves due to sheer boredom, if not outright ego."
"I see." Jason says, brushing Calanthra's finger away. "So the Creator dumped all the Milky Way's energy into the angels. I take it this is uncommon among Rulers?"
"Of course. It's a wasteful strategy and usually loses Rulers the War for that Eternity." Calanthra says dismissively. "The Timeless used a different strategy. She created the fairies as mere mortals that evolved over time, gaining greater and greater power through their own efforts. This meant that instead of devouring Andromeda's abundant Cosmic energy, they could slowly sap off its excess over time. For you see, the more energy a galaxy has, the more it can produce. If you ration it long enough, you can reap more of it across the duration of an Eternity."
"That makes sense." Jason concludes. "It's like a Rush build in an RTS versus an Economy build. You sacrifice long-term gains in exchange for short-term power. The problem is, with Akasha's Barriers preventing Rulers from attacking their enemies straight away, a Rush build is dumb because you're just wasting your resources and sacrificing Cosmic energy when you'll actually need it."
Calanthra blinks twice. She looks at Jason with a strange expression, then turns away for a moment, trying to understand the strange terms he's used. They mostly make sense, but some of them are a little...
She shakes her head and returns to the topic at hand. "Right. Rush strategy versus Economy. Of... course. Well, in any case, there is one advantage toward the first strategy. If you drain all the energy from your galaxy, it becomes less appealing for other Rulers to attack. Because Andromeda was so large and still filled with Cosmic power even billions of years after the Expansion Era, it stoked the hunger of the Dark Ones. Meanwhile, the Milky Way only needs to deal with the Plague, which is threatening for mortals, but manageable for Cosmics. In that respect, we've gotten off much luckier."
"I get the bigger picture now." Jason says with a nod. He turns to look back at the cosmos before him. "So, what about all this? Are we gonna go exploring, or what?"
"In order to explore the universe presented here, we would need to make sacrifices we cannot afford. I think you would find the price most disagreeable. But there is something we can explore freely..."
She waves her hand, and instantly, the brilliant and beautiful cosmic view of the universe vanishes.
In its place, Jason and Calanthra suddenly appear inside a dead, barren wasteland. Brown and grey dirt rises up in huge dunes stretching off into the distance. Fallen towers made of gold and stone lay on their sides, or stick into the ground, buried nearly up to their tops as they point diagonally toward the sky.
And speaking of the sky, it glows faintly grey, as if some weak, pale imitation of a star were trying to shine through a thin atmosphere clouded by dust and grime. The very air itself smells of sulfur and toxins, making Jason's nose curl up when he takes a breath.
"Ugh... what the hell? Where are we now?" Jason asks, as he turns and looks around at the dead world surrounding him.
"An Ancient Domain." Calanthra says softly. "A remnant of a dead universe. All life stripped away. All hope lost. Septillions of different Sentient species, gone. Their mortals, their Cosmics, reduced to dust by the Contraction."
The Wordsmith frowns. "This Ancient Domain represents a dead universe? But how can that be possible? If the Heat Death played out and all the galaxies faded to cosmic dust, then there already wouldn't be anything left. And then, if the entire universe collapsed into a singularity before exploding again, there definitely wouldn't be anything left behind resembling physical matter."
"You perceive reality through just three dimensions." Calanthra intones. "Time and space can be considered two dimensions. Cosmic Power is another dimension. I must admit I do not understand how Ancient Domains have continued to exist across countless Eternities, and I don't know how they retain a vaguely familiar form... but I can assure you that in spite of bending logic itself, they do exist and they can provide tangible benefits to those dedicated to exploring them."
"You've been exploring them, then?" Jason asks, turning away from the dead world to scrutinize Calanthra's phantasmal image.
"Me, a little. But often, I dispatch my descendants to scour these Ancient Domains for things of value. It may surprise you, but there are powerful artifacts, vengeful spirits, and all manner of other inter-dimensional horrors lurking within these so-called dead-lands."
Calanthra pauses. She shifts her posture to look at Jason deeply.
"And that is why I've brought you here, Jason. It's time for me to get down to the crux of the matter and breach the subject that I find most important."
He nods. "I'm listening."
"It's like this." Calanthra explains. "The Ancient Domains are unfathomably broad. Think of how large a universe is. Think of how many universes have existed. Think of how much space my people have yet to explore."
She pauses.
"The gains we have received have made my people stronger than you would expect. Among those gains are Yredelemnul's Eye and other leftover remnants of power that many dead ancient Rulers lost when their Existences became forfeit. While their tangible Existences may have perished, their spirits sometimes live on in these broad, unending dead universes..."
"That's why you approached me." Jason says, while crossing his arms and leaning on the ball of his heel. "You said you wanted an alliance with humanity. You... want humans to help you explore the Ancient Domains?"
"Trust is hard to come by among mortals, Cosmics, and Rulers." Calanthra says simply. "I never would have considered allying with the humans before, but you have shown me the broadness of your mind during the debate against your clone and the commander of your military. To some, you certainly appear naive, but to me I see an opportunity I would be foolish to ignore."
She continues. "The Fairies cannot reproduce efficiently. Every fairy we send into the Ancient Domain is one less fairy we have among our Empire. We already have a difficult time replenishing our numbers through the remaining Male Fairies, but do you think it is easy for us to reproduce with other species?"
Jason slowly shakes his head. "Blinker and Kar's children were all crocodiles, not fairies. From that, I can only imagine that most of the time, your mating attempts do not create more of yourselves, but instead more non-fairy children."
"That's exactly correct." Calanthra replies. "But that all changed recently when I found out one of your human males somehow spontaneously altered his genetic profile to become a fairy. There is no doubt about it; Samuel Baker harnesses all the capability to reproduce that you humans do, as well as the trueborn powers of any male fairy."
"So... are you seeking a marriage alliance with Samuel Baker?" Jason asks, scratching his head in confusion. "You could just ask him yourself, you know?"
"This is not about one man." Calanthra retorts. "Samuel Baker, if he were to join our ranks, would certainly help us stave off extinction for a while longer. But that is hardly worth all this melodrama and me taking you to the Ancient Domain in person..."
Jason's eyes widen in realization. "I see! You... you're thinking that if my magic could make one male fairy, I could surely make another, and another..."
"Yes, precisely." Calanthra says, revealing a beautiful smile. "Additionally, if humans were to assist us in scouring these Ancient Domains, we could make great gains together. There is plenty of room for another species to join ours in locating powerful artifacts and other items capable of Uplifting us."
"You want to become Cosmics still." Jason muses. "You haven't resigned yourselves to your current fate."
"Quite the opposite." Calanthra says. "The curse placed upon us is unbreakable by those beneath the realm of Ruler. As I said before, the fairies have lost this Eternity's war. However, while we cannot Ascend any longer, that does not mean the humans are subject to the same limitation. If we could groom a human into becoming the Milky Way's Ruler, we could finally break free of our shackles by virtue of having a powerful ally."
She pauses, looking meaningfully at the Wordsmith.
"If the Demons or the Volgrim were to become our Ruler, we would not enjoy such a benefit. At best, we would only maintain the status quo, and at worst, they might eradicate us out of fear of having an unsightly tumor in their midst."
"Haha." Jason laughs. "So you brought me here to show your sincerity. I get it. Well, I'm definitely not opposed to helping you. Blinker is my good friend. If she were to ask me, I'd definitely say yes to just about any request."
Jason turns away. He walks a few feet off to the side and pauses, standing to gaze out at the Ancient Domain and its endlessly rolling plains which stretches off into the infinite distance...
"Here's what I can do." Jason says. "My people are already working on laying out the options for humanity and where our fellow men and women will depart over the next few weeks. Some will travel to Maiura. Some will go to Sharmur. Some will stay on Tarus II. It's no trouble at all to put Pixiv on the list, especially as I was already planning to do that. I even have some other places I'd like to include, too..."
"Such as Camael's Cube?" Calanthra asks with a smile. "Or do you perhaps mean Chrona and Hope's Hall of Heroes?"
Jason nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to look at Calanthra with shock in his eyes. "What?! How do you know about Chrona? How do you also know about where Hope has been hiding?? I don't even know that much!"
"For those who are talented in magic, it is possible to see through many lies and deceptions." Calanthra says calmly, unfazed by the alarm on Jason's face. "Your Spynet Sphere isn't so different from the many options I have at my disposal. I have many means to keep an eye on the galaxy. And while Diablo does not know exactly where or what Chrona is, he certainly knows of its general existence."
Her smile turns cold. "I would advise you not to take Unarin lightly either, Wordsmith. That ancient creature is more capable than you can imagine. He is hiding a great many secrets from the galaxy... secrets he does not know that I am aware of. If he were to learn of the true extent of my information web, I fear that he would dispatch a handful of High Psions to eliminate the fairy species tomorrow."
Calanthra's words truly rock Jason to his core. All along, he assumed the precautions he put on Chrona, precautions that fooled even Hope, would make his hidden dimension impossible to detect.
But how could he be so naive?
As the daughter of an Apex Cosmic, Calanthra must have her means, and that likely means Unarin and Diablo aren't too far behind either.
"Shit." Jason curses, lowering his head as a flicker of anger smolders in his heart. "I was too complacent. Chrona isn't secure, which means it's only a matter of time before more Cosmics learn of its existence. How long before they can find its exact location and invade it?"
"Calm yourself, child." Calanthra says soothingly. "The situation is not that dire. After all, Chrona still exists within a highly accelerated timespace. Any biological entity that wishes to travel there could suffer severe after-effects. Furthermore, the entities born inside will be too adapted to living within a higher dimension, so they won't pose much threat to the creatures of realspace."
She waves her hand. "Let's move on, Jason. I want to discuss other matters before dying of old age."
The Wordsmith cools himself off. He inhales deeply, then returns his attention to her.
"Alright. What next, then?"
"Fairies are not the only Sentients capable of entering Ancient Domains." Calanthra explains. "There are others who rarely appear inside here. That is why exploring these domains can be dangerous. The good news is that Cosmics have little need to enter these barren lands, as most of the heritages, treasures, and other such gains you might find inside are only useful to mortals. There are exceptions, but they are so rare as to be a needle found within ten million haystacks. A waste of effort better spent simply progressing one's Cosmic power the ordinary way."
"So what you're saying is, when you send fairies into an Ancient Domain, they can die as a result of crossing paths with Sentients from other galaxies." Jason concludes. "But if you had an army of humans to enter with you, your people would be a lot safer."
"Safety in numbers, yes. And you humans are... uniquely advantaged in Ancient Domain exploration." Calanthra says mysteriously. "Before that, though... do you know what the Power of Imagination is, Wordsmith?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Imagination? Like the mental ability to visualize stuff in your head? Yeah. It's not that complicated to understand."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong." Calanthra chides gently. "Imagination is the key to magical power. Imagination, Conception, Visualization, these are all key capabilities powerful maguses and sorcerors use to uplift their capabilities! And as it turns out, most Sentients are actually quite terrible at conceptualizing thoughts into imagery."
She gestures grandly. "Just take the Volgrim! You may think they are a powerful Sentient species, but in fact the Volgrim have terrible imaginations. They are stodgy, dull, and lack a great deal of creativity. All the gains their Technopaths make through technology are developed via brute force. They slowly improve their technological prowess by minute fractions over long periods of time, eventually resulting in a large and cohesive buildup."
"At the same time, the Psions Uplift themselves through meditation and sitting motionless for thousands of years at a time. Can a species capable of such incredible feats of drudgery also possess limitless imagination? I think not."
"Maybe the reason they're able to sit still for so long is because they live in their imagination?" Jason posits. "In which case their power of imagination should be quite formidable, right?"
"Possible, but unlikely." Calanthra says with a wave of her hand. "Never mind that. The point I'm trying to make is that humans have an extremely high affinity for magic. If your people were to ally with mine, we could teach you our ways. You could help us through your Wordsmithing and superior genetics, creating more fairies and humans alike. This would create a recursive cycle that would continually bolster both our species to greater and greater heights!"
She lowers her voice back to normal. "An alliance with humanity would have other benefits. You humans are equally adept in technology and magic both. You are versatile, capable of learning any skill provided you have time to devote to your studies. The bursts of inspiration you receive also allow you to make large jumps in capability as well, which could mean that in a relatively short period, you might even be capable of challenging the Volgrim."
Jason nods. "That does sound tempting, Calanthra. I'm willing to help you, but I won't demand my people join the fairies. It would be better if those who were the most interested did so instead."
Calanthra playfully twirls a finger through her hair. "Well. My daughters are all beautiful. Perhaps you should make mention that the fairies are... aggressively interested in copulation?"
"COUGH COUGH!" Jason wheezes, taking a step back as he asses her bold choice of words. "Yeah! Uh, I can probably- I'll let everyone know about that too. Obviously!"
Calanthra chuckles. "Such a cute boy. Well, it seems I've accomplished what I wanted. Let's return for now. You can always pay Ripspace a visit later."
"I will." Jason says, nodding seriously. "Waypoint."
Calanthra raises an eyebrow. "You think you can return here without a Ruler's power?"
"Won't know unless I try." Jason smiles back.
...
Not long after, Jason and Calanthra emerge back into Realspace. He shivers as he feels the Eye of Yredelemnul fixating on him from behind, but Calanthra quickly reactivates the Formation of Light, sending the sliver of a Ruler back to the shadows so it can no longer interact with the physical world.
"You know, Jason." Calanthra says. "You are a Candidate. You have the capability to become a Ruler someday."
"I am?" Jason asks, before thinking back to a conversation in the past. "Oh yeah, someone did mention that to me before. But... eh. I don't know. Becoming a Ruler sounds awful."
"Awful?" Calanthra asks. "How so?"
"It seems... lonely." Jason says, his voice softening. He looks at the space between the four statues, where Yredelemnul's Eye has disappeared. "Imagine all your loved ones dying, but you're stuck behind, living through the end of an Eternity, which takes trillions of years before Heat Death finally eradicates everything. Then comes the next Eternity, where you can remake your species again... but it won't be the same. Even if you remake your loved ones, it won't really be them."
Jason lowers and shakes his head. "That sort of life doesn't suit me."
"I understand why you'd think that way." Calanthra says. "In fact, you are suffering from the same affliction that plagues all Candidates who began their Existences as Biologicals. We have too many ties to the mortal world, so the majority of Biologicals who ascend to the rank of Ruler... fall to their non-biological opponents."
"As for the things which are not biological..." Calanthra says, looking at Jason with disgust. "You should already know what they are."
"Highly evolved Artificial Intelligences?" Jason guesses.
"That's right." Calanthra affirms. "There are several tiers of power a superintelligence can possess. The Volgrim have taken great care to prevent anything above a Beta Core from forming in the Milky Way, but once, a long time ago... they made a huge mess by accidentally creating the Milky Way's first Alpha Core Synthmind."
Calanthra chuckles. "The stupid fools didn't only create an Alpha Core, they gave it autonomy in the hopes it would be able to stop the wars between their factions. They built indestructible bipedal bodies for its splintered intelligences, and called them... Sentinels. Luckily, they were able to defeat the Alpha Core before it ascended further, but countless other biological species have failed at that juncture, creating an Alpha Core that ultimately devoured the full power of their galaxy for itself."
A chill trickles down Jason's spine. "You're saying the vast majority of Rulers are actually Alpha Core AIs? AIs that control entire galaxies?!"
"No, Jason." Calanthra counters. "Alpha Cores can defeat advanced civilizations. But there is one Existence higher than an Alpha Core, a tier that can only be reached once it has swallowed the power of a galaxy."
"That would be an Omega Core. a sentient artificial intelligence that has become Ruler over one or more galaxies. And in Akasha's game, more than 90% of all Rulers are estimated to be these superior lifeforms."
"It is for that reason that these highly adaptable entities are known as The Evolved."