Words to paste
WordsToTheWise - Words to live by
2017.03.30 06:30 ohsureyoudo WordsToTheWise - Words to live by
Thought provoking words of wisdom and philosophical insight that deserve to be passed down for the ages. Share your pearls of knowledge that you have come across on the road to enlightenment so others may benefit.
2010.10.25 08:58 someprimetime Life Pro Tips
Tips that improve your life in one way or another.
2016.03.01 20:50 adamdavenport Unethical Life Pro Tips
An Unethical Life Pro Tip (or ULPT) is a tip that improves your life in a meaningful way, perhaps at the expense of others and/or with questionable legality. Due to their nature, do not actually follow any of these tips–they're just for fun. Share your best tips you've picked up throughout your life, and learn from others!
2024.05.19 21:49 acorns_in_the_grass Just another bottle lost in the oceans of time
Hey KB,
Do you ever find yourself looking out the window at a familiar yet unrecognizable world, like you're not sure whose eyes you are seeing it through? Do the smells of summer ever wash away those hours past noon and blot out the crescendo of time, as if the clouds had swam past and scoffed at the contours of their own shadows?
It's strange, on warm sunny days like this where the wind is muffled by my reminiscence of our days gone by, the blue of the skies is tethered to a reflection of your smile that's barely tangible in memory and it's as if the lens I see the world through is whetted by the dichotomy of past and present.
It's as if we reconcile the mistakes of our past in our own meaningless ways and continue bearing scars that refuse to heal so that whenever we look through the pond of forgetfulness we wonder how it is these spots in our hearts still ache.
When we chat as we still do and carry on this thin façade of nonchalance, I wish you well and hope you are as happy as I am not, but when you recall our end I selfishly find solace in the bitterness of your words as an indication of the tangential wake of our separation--as if the measure of your ordeal betrays the weight of my presence on your mind.
I wish I could just crest this wall of unspoken thoughts between us and ask if you ever miss us like I do, if you ever think of me before you go to sleep and wish I were there instead of in my own bed. I wish I could ask if you ever make up stories in your head of where we'd be now if we never went our separate ways and if you ever imagine the adventures and tales we would tell our grandchildren.
I wonder, in the deepest shadows of my contrition, if you ever secretly pine for the intimacy we had, if you ever wish for another journey down the untrodden paths of time--one that wouldn't end so abruptly. I wonder if I had never shifted my gaze from those dark comforting hues swirling in your eyes, if I had insisted against your will and not given up the fruit of my pursuit, would we now be in a happily-ever-after? Would I not be lost in this vast ocean of uncertainty swimming against the currents of the past and caught in a bottomless churn of vacillation between neither here nor there?
I wonder if the gravity of Jupiter would be enough to pull you back to me or at least coerce a dream or two of our past love--or, I wonder, if that too would succumb to the momentum of our ricocheted trajectories.
There is so much I would like to tell you, all the words caught in the bottom of empty bottles and the moments lost without your witness--the undulating joys and self-inflicted miseries caught in the folds of our remembered love. I wonder how things would be different had I seen through the rough waters ahead and could bear a better future that kept you by my side. But with each inhale I breathed of us, it was as if I could taste the brevity of our time and simply painted a mural with the audacity that we spent it with, as if I was merely crashing in slow-motion and falling through an ephemeral dream of you. You were a flame so bright upon my canvas that I am still cast in your shadows, enshrouded by this souvenir of recollection I never asked for. My memory insists we aren't meant to be past-tense and that it was only yesterday I could feel the weight of your hand in mine, that the present is but an unscripted interlude, and yet here we are years grown apart and as distant as newly met strangers.
In hindsight, we burned for the moon and stretched for the stars but abandoned the fortitude to appreciate one another in fullness. Our destinations managed to diverge on a one way street, forkless yet fractured, and now despite these long years I've spent inching further away from you in our aftermath, I'm still haunted by the absent chance to do it better a second time, to drink every last drop of your smile and soak in the warmth of your skin against mine. Some part of me still foolishly preserves a tract of my heart for the infinitesimal chance of you in my forecast, hoarding opportunities and future narratives so that I may have another chance to spin their webs with you. I know how inexplicably silly it is to still be clutching on to this shred of unreasonable hope for our reunion in this lifetime, to interlock fingers once again and share a glass of wine overlooking the sunset in foreign lands. I wish I could travel back in time, trade every ounce of forward momentum for a hiatus with you in this misguided sentimental vice, this emotional blunder of a lesson I still haven't realized. It feels as if I am constantly falling backwards, stumbling upon my own footsteps and plummeting into memories that have long forgotten themselves and hang on to existence only by a single thread leading back to my heart. It is as if I am shackled to our yesterdays and am drowning in the dark skies above, willfully blind to a future without a prospect of you.
Perhaps one day I will be able to translate the weight of these half cocked years into a new journey. Perhaps one day in another timeline we'll be given another chance to endure the impermanence of our union, and maybe one day beyond the drift of time and our departures from ourselves, you will come to know the fragility of each passing lifetime against your impression on me.
I recognize that what feels so heavy and cumbersome now is just a flicker of life, a symptom of having lived a collection of events between two people, and my emotions are simply in the process of washing away with the gentle waning of the stars. Somewhere in those moments you shared with me must live a remotely tangible lesson buried in transience, shy to my presence and begging for attention. Is this the essence of having lived or is it merely a mischievous blight on the botanicals of my folly?
To think that seven years is but a speck in the immortality of time, it seems more forgivable that I still wish to sink back into your arms whenever I close my eyes. How many more years will be enough to forget your presence in my heart, to forget the feeling of home in your embrace? Are these remnant feelings not to be measured by the cadence of days but by pure tension on the soul?
How much longer must I think of you almost every day and agonize over the fabric of this former love? How many more oscillations of the sun will it take to erode my lingering attachment--these emotional fetters bridling my promise of the future? It should have all faded with each passing second, blown away like dust carried on astral winds. These feelings should have perished along with the shards of us scintillating into the catastrophe of time.
I wonder if your dreams are quiet at night, if our embers have long been extinguished in your slumber? I wonder if you ever cry when you think of how I could have let go of you, or if those tears have since evaporated along with your thoughts of me. I wonder what your days are like, if you are happier without me now, and if you would trade anything to think of me more or less.
I wonder how often you remember me still and if the splash I made in your waters was as staggering as yours in mine--if I still wash upon your shores like your tidal swells that continue shaping my sands.
I want to know if you ever see me in his eyes, or if any part of him reminds you of me and makes you love him a little more. I wonder if you'll ever chase my shadows in waking dreams like I continue to chase yours even after all these years and for years to come. Will your future have forgotten my name or will you still remember the sound of my voice?
Is a piece of me forever lost in you or just lost forever?
I wonder if I should have given you that ring.
submitted by acorns_in_the_grass to UnsentLetters [link] [comments]
Do you ever find yourself looking out the window at a familiar yet unrecognizable world, like you're not sure whose eyes you are seeing it through? Do the smells of summer ever wash away those hours past noon and blot out the crescendo of time, as if the clouds had swam past and scoffed at the contours of their own shadows?
It's strange, on warm sunny days like this where the wind is muffled by my reminiscence of our days gone by, the blue of the skies is tethered to a reflection of your smile that's barely tangible in memory and it's as if the lens I see the world through is whetted by the dichotomy of past and present.
It's as if we reconcile the mistakes of our past in our own meaningless ways and continue bearing scars that refuse to heal so that whenever we look through the pond of forgetfulness we wonder how it is these spots in our hearts still ache.
When we chat as we still do and carry on this thin façade of nonchalance, I wish you well and hope you are as happy as I am not, but when you recall our end I selfishly find solace in the bitterness of your words as an indication of the tangential wake of our separation--as if the measure of your ordeal betrays the weight of my presence on your mind.
I wish I could just crest this wall of unspoken thoughts between us and ask if you ever miss us like I do, if you ever think of me before you go to sleep and wish I were there instead of in my own bed. I wish I could ask if you ever make up stories in your head of where we'd be now if we never went our separate ways and if you ever imagine the adventures and tales we would tell our grandchildren.
I wonder, in the deepest shadows of my contrition, if you ever secretly pine for the intimacy we had, if you ever wish for another journey down the untrodden paths of time--one that wouldn't end so abruptly. I wonder if I had never shifted my gaze from those dark comforting hues swirling in your eyes, if I had insisted against your will and not given up the fruit of my pursuit, would we now be in a happily-ever-after? Would I not be lost in this vast ocean of uncertainty swimming against the currents of the past and caught in a bottomless churn of vacillation between neither here nor there?
I wonder if the gravity of Jupiter would be enough to pull you back to me or at least coerce a dream or two of our past love--or, I wonder, if that too would succumb to the momentum of our ricocheted trajectories.
There is so much I would like to tell you, all the words caught in the bottom of empty bottles and the moments lost without your witness--the undulating joys and self-inflicted miseries caught in the folds of our remembered love. I wonder how things would be different had I seen through the rough waters ahead and could bear a better future that kept you by my side. But with each inhale I breathed of us, it was as if I could taste the brevity of our time and simply painted a mural with the audacity that we spent it with, as if I was merely crashing in slow-motion and falling through an ephemeral dream of you. You were a flame so bright upon my canvas that I am still cast in your shadows, enshrouded by this souvenir of recollection I never asked for. My memory insists we aren't meant to be past-tense and that it was only yesterday I could feel the weight of your hand in mine, that the present is but an unscripted interlude, and yet here we are years grown apart and as distant as newly met strangers.
In hindsight, we burned for the moon and stretched for the stars but abandoned the fortitude to appreciate one another in fullness. Our destinations managed to diverge on a one way street, forkless yet fractured, and now despite these long years I've spent inching further away from you in our aftermath, I'm still haunted by the absent chance to do it better a second time, to drink every last drop of your smile and soak in the warmth of your skin against mine. Some part of me still foolishly preserves a tract of my heart for the infinitesimal chance of you in my forecast, hoarding opportunities and future narratives so that I may have another chance to spin their webs with you. I know how inexplicably silly it is to still be clutching on to this shred of unreasonable hope for our reunion in this lifetime, to interlock fingers once again and share a glass of wine overlooking the sunset in foreign lands. I wish I could travel back in time, trade every ounce of forward momentum for a hiatus with you in this misguided sentimental vice, this emotional blunder of a lesson I still haven't realized. It feels as if I am constantly falling backwards, stumbling upon my own footsteps and plummeting into memories that have long forgotten themselves and hang on to existence only by a single thread leading back to my heart. It is as if I am shackled to our yesterdays and am drowning in the dark skies above, willfully blind to a future without a prospect of you.
Perhaps one day I will be able to translate the weight of these half cocked years into a new journey. Perhaps one day in another timeline we'll be given another chance to endure the impermanence of our union, and maybe one day beyond the drift of time and our departures from ourselves, you will come to know the fragility of each passing lifetime against your impression on me.
I recognize that what feels so heavy and cumbersome now is just a flicker of life, a symptom of having lived a collection of events between two people, and my emotions are simply in the process of washing away with the gentle waning of the stars. Somewhere in those moments you shared with me must live a remotely tangible lesson buried in transience, shy to my presence and begging for attention. Is this the essence of having lived or is it merely a mischievous blight on the botanicals of my folly?
To think that seven years is but a speck in the immortality of time, it seems more forgivable that I still wish to sink back into your arms whenever I close my eyes. How many more years will be enough to forget your presence in my heart, to forget the feeling of home in your embrace? Are these remnant feelings not to be measured by the cadence of days but by pure tension on the soul?
How much longer must I think of you almost every day and agonize over the fabric of this former love? How many more oscillations of the sun will it take to erode my lingering attachment--these emotional fetters bridling my promise of the future? It should have all faded with each passing second, blown away like dust carried on astral winds. These feelings should have perished along with the shards of us scintillating into the catastrophe of time.
I wonder if your dreams are quiet at night, if our embers have long been extinguished in your slumber? I wonder if you ever cry when you think of how I could have let go of you, or if those tears have since evaporated along with your thoughts of me. I wonder what your days are like, if you are happier without me now, and if you would trade anything to think of me more or less.
I wonder how often you remember me still and if the splash I made in your waters was as staggering as yours in mine--if I still wash upon your shores like your tidal swells that continue shaping my sands.
I want to know if you ever see me in his eyes, or if any part of him reminds you of me and makes you love him a little more. I wonder if you'll ever chase my shadows in waking dreams like I continue to chase yours even after all these years and for years to come. Will your future have forgotten my name or will you still remember the sound of my voice?
Is a piece of me forever lost in you or just lost forever?
I wonder if I should have given you that ring.
2024.05.19 21:48 RidaStreets Have you ever talked to someone that was actually painful to interact with?
M31 I recently had a work event and us coworkers are all relatively new to each other(didn't know half of them). The small event was a bring your family/friends kind of thing, kind of informal, just a way to spread the word about a new store opening. There was one family member of one of the owners(unbeknownst to me at the time) he was walking around aimlessly, not interacting with anyone for quite some time.
I have pretty bad social anxiety so I can empathise with others that have it aswell, which is what I assumed this guy(M30s) had. So I decided to break the ice and introduce myself, he seemed very uncomfortable by this and was just kind of looking past me, so I asked him a few general questions to which he gave these gruntish 1 word answers(that were mostly unintelligible) that gave me nothing, then I was getting super uncomfortable so I excused myself to the rest room. I didn't see him talk to anyone else, I probably talked to the most people there honestly. And ended up making a couple connections. I have never had this much of an awkward time with anyone and I'm awkard AF.
Anyone else had this?
Tldr super awkward and uncomfortable interaction with stranger at work event
submitted by RidaStreets to socialskills [link] [comments]
I have pretty bad social anxiety so I can empathise with others that have it aswell, which is what I assumed this guy(M30s) had. So I decided to break the ice and introduce myself, he seemed very uncomfortable by this and was just kind of looking past me, so I asked him a few general questions to which he gave these gruntish 1 word answers(that were mostly unintelligible) that gave me nothing, then I was getting super uncomfortable so I excused myself to the rest room. I didn't see him talk to anyone else, I probably talked to the most people there honestly. And ended up making a couple connections. I have never had this much of an awkward time with anyone and I'm awkard AF.
Anyone else had this?
Tldr super awkward and uncomfortable interaction with stranger at work event
2024.05.19 21:45 Strong_Hat7508 Saw my ex-friend w/ BPD after 1.5 years. So interesting...
You can see my post history for more info about the story of my friend/female coworker who split on me, reported me to HR, then refused to work with me (how she didn't get in trouble is beyond me). We work remotely so I haven't seen her in 1.5 years.
Over a year ago she got a promotion when she was clearly not ready for it. She's causing chaos, people are finding new roles without thanking her and jumping ship, etc. Finally, so many people have told me "she clearly has borderline personality disorder" that I can't believe I missed it. I have healed to a point that I'm not bothered by things anymore, thankfully. But I was nervous to think about crossing paths again.
A few weeks ago I attended a work conference. My attendance was last minute and she did not expect me to be there. We were taking seats for the first meeting and she literally jumped when she saw me then beelined for a different area of the room. I almost didn't recognize her--hair bleached blonde and gained weight. Mirroring her most recent boss to a degree.
After the meeting, we had a dinner and drinks/networking deal. About 100 people were there and she was bouncing around like crazy from person to person (not sure if this was due to my presence, or else). It looked exhausting. I also didn't recognize her personality from afar--drinking pretty quickly/heavily, acting like a super cool person, etc. different from what I remember (although I think she has possibly slipped into drinking, or more open about it). Again, any time she would get close to me, she beelined a different direction. Amusing. Many times though I had a sense that someone was staring at me--and when I looked up, it was her. I decided to keep an eye out a bit closer, only to respect her actions and make sure I was able to avoid her.
However, as she drank more that evening I noticed a change. Once, she went over to a mutual from a prior role that neither of us had cared for and we, in the past, joked was my "arch nemesis". At one point, he was by himself and she went over to talk to him--all while looking directly at me from across room the whole time. She was sending me a message. Later, I was off to the side next to a group of people, and she looked right at me, then waltzed over to the other side of the group, sending another message. (There is one person that knows we were close and aren't anymore, so knows there was some major falling out--but doesn't know the details. She picked up on what happened with that last move right away).
The next day our paths crossed ways very few times--one exception coming to mind is that I was walking down a long hall into an open area where people were. I was scanning the crowd and happened to see her. She saw me, dropped her head and looked away and immediately left the room. Later that evening at an off-site event, she continued to avoid. Yet I would walk into a room and she would immediately be making eye contact with me before I realized who I was looking at. A few more times I had that "sense" of someone looking at me--and I would look over and she would immediately drop her head and furiously text on her phone. Finally, due to a crowded space, I ended up next to someone who was next to her. I saw her slowly take two steps back and then shuffle away.
The final day, I only saw her when people were departing for the airport. She looked at me again and steered clear. I coincidentally passed her on the way to my car and she completely ignored me.
That was the last time I saw her. No words were exchanged. And yet, the non-verbal communication spoke volumes.
I am basically healed and my wife and I have developed some compassion for her. I thought about saying hello, etc. or otherwise just being a polite human being, mature, etc. But then I had to continue to remind myself that she has BPD, and would not receive it like someone who did not have it. I essentially continued to grey rock/stay NC. After the interactions, I realized it was absolutely the right call to continue to do so. Who knows what would have happened if I had tried to be cordial. My simple presence clearly triggered a lot of things within her.
I do wonder what she was thinking and feeling. Was she feeling shame/regret, then it turned into anger and impulsivity by trying to demonstrate that she was "doing ok"? Did she still see me as some terrible person as part of splitting? Did I bring back bad memories of a major professional/personal mistake in her life? Regardless, it was really an interesting experience. Again, staying no contact in the situation was the right move, for sure.
submitted by Strong_Hat7508 to BPDlovedones [link] [comments]
Over a year ago she got a promotion when she was clearly not ready for it. She's causing chaos, people are finding new roles without thanking her and jumping ship, etc. Finally, so many people have told me "she clearly has borderline personality disorder" that I can't believe I missed it. I have healed to a point that I'm not bothered by things anymore, thankfully. But I was nervous to think about crossing paths again.
A few weeks ago I attended a work conference. My attendance was last minute and she did not expect me to be there. We were taking seats for the first meeting and she literally jumped when she saw me then beelined for a different area of the room. I almost didn't recognize her--hair bleached blonde and gained weight. Mirroring her most recent boss to a degree.
After the meeting, we had a dinner and drinks/networking deal. About 100 people were there and she was bouncing around like crazy from person to person (not sure if this was due to my presence, or else). It looked exhausting. I also didn't recognize her personality from afar--drinking pretty quickly/heavily, acting like a super cool person, etc. different from what I remember (although I think she has possibly slipped into drinking, or more open about it). Again, any time she would get close to me, she beelined a different direction. Amusing. Many times though I had a sense that someone was staring at me--and when I looked up, it was her. I decided to keep an eye out a bit closer, only to respect her actions and make sure I was able to avoid her.
However, as she drank more that evening I noticed a change. Once, she went over to a mutual from a prior role that neither of us had cared for and we, in the past, joked was my "arch nemesis". At one point, he was by himself and she went over to talk to him--all while looking directly at me from across room the whole time. She was sending me a message. Later, I was off to the side next to a group of people, and she looked right at me, then waltzed over to the other side of the group, sending another message. (There is one person that knows we were close and aren't anymore, so knows there was some major falling out--but doesn't know the details. She picked up on what happened with that last move right away).
The next day our paths crossed ways very few times--one exception coming to mind is that I was walking down a long hall into an open area where people were. I was scanning the crowd and happened to see her. She saw me, dropped her head and looked away and immediately left the room. Later that evening at an off-site event, she continued to avoid. Yet I would walk into a room and she would immediately be making eye contact with me before I realized who I was looking at. A few more times I had that "sense" of someone looking at me--and I would look over and she would immediately drop her head and furiously text on her phone. Finally, due to a crowded space, I ended up next to someone who was next to her. I saw her slowly take two steps back and then shuffle away.
The final day, I only saw her when people were departing for the airport. She looked at me again and steered clear. I coincidentally passed her on the way to my car and she completely ignored me.
That was the last time I saw her. No words were exchanged. And yet, the non-verbal communication spoke volumes.
I am basically healed and my wife and I have developed some compassion for her. I thought about saying hello, etc. or otherwise just being a polite human being, mature, etc. But then I had to continue to remind myself that she has BPD, and would not receive it like someone who did not have it. I essentially continued to grey rock/stay NC. After the interactions, I realized it was absolutely the right call to continue to do so. Who knows what would have happened if I had tried to be cordial. My simple presence clearly triggered a lot of things within her.
I do wonder what she was thinking and feeling. Was she feeling shame/regret, then it turned into anger and impulsivity by trying to demonstrate that she was "doing ok"? Did she still see me as some terrible person as part of splitting? Did I bring back bad memories of a major professional/personal mistake in her life? Regardless, it was really an interesting experience. Again, staying no contact in the situation was the right move, for sure.
2024.05.19 21:44 ChristLover10 The Last Child (Part 3)
Part 3 of my short story. 1 and 2 got decent receptions. If this one does well Ill keep it goin.
I started looking around the room for anything useful. Checked a few lockers pretty quickly. I was looking for something specific. Pictures of family, lab coats, the entire collection helldivers trading cards, and your typical personal belongings. Damn. Youd have figured at least one... HERE it is! I reached into the second to last locker on a wall of ten and found a loaded Peacemaker. I stapped the holster over one shoulder and under another across my chest for ease of access. Can never have to many weapons. I took the extra mags and stored them in my left thigh pouch.
3 just watched as I completely gutted the room for anything useful. They sort of shuffled behind me after a couple minutes. Following behind me like a domesticated pet.
I search the cupboards above one of the desks and found some typical workplace memos. "No fraternization without a signed C0-1 permit," toss, "Make sure to enjoy at least one 30 second break every day," useless. I closed the cupboard and looked under the desk. There was a safe with a pretty decent lock on it. Well, decent for civilians. It was a digital combination lock with a biometric finger scan and eye scan. Whatever was in here had to be good. I pulled the retractable cord out of my wristpad and plugged into the input in the safe. Turned the whole 3 point security system into a series of directional inputs. Up, down, left, left, right, down, done. The safe Clicked and popped open slightly.
Inside was just a keycard labelled "Master". It was a hefty card made of metal about a quarter of an inch thick and 3 inches by 2 inches on its face. I tucked it under my wristpad in a small pouch between it and my wrist. 3 was just standing behind me holding Mr. Ears.
They just wore a gown. No socks, no pants or anything to keep them warm. Alright, add that to the list. Clothes shopping for the lab experiment. Other than what i'd already searched there wasnt anything else in this building that I could see. I put my hands on my hips and sort of paced for a moment.
"Do you want to see my room?" 3 said. I stopped pacing and looked back at 3. Of course! I thought. This kid would have had to sleep somewhere and as far as I could see there wasnt a bed in here. How did 3 end up in here anyway? Did they walk out in the cold from another building? Tough kid. Maybe one of the doctors carried em over and just... left them here. The thought angered me. I started towards the door when a small hand pulled on my cape. The cape itself had red trim with a black and white design on it. A simple red skull sat smack dab in the middle. A cape to remember those lost at the Creek.
I turned around to see 3 point towards a wall at the backside of the building some 30 ft. Away. "Its this way mister." 3 ran towards the wall and gently pushed in a hidden button. The wall sunk inwards and moved down to reveal a stairwell going down. Flickering lights barely illuminating the stairwell. I slowly approached the stairwell as 3 just stood next to the button looking up at me, their face devoid of emotion. They walked through the doorway and started climbing down the stairs with a bit of effort. They held the hand rail and carefully descended.
I kept my flashlight on and pointed down and ahead, letting 3 lead by a couple feet. My right hand dangled next to my senator instinctively. No need to draw it just yet. It was a winding stairway that continued down for 3 floors. At the bottom there was another automatic doorway. It was a double door that opened from the middle but one side was jammed and the other just sort of bounced between being fully open and slightly ajar. The lights continued to flicker. 3 walked through the opening without hesitation, their little feet making pat, pat sounds on the cold metal floor.
Checks out I thought. Distant planet, secret experiments, gotta have a secret labratory underground. I sidestepped through the door way and into a security checkpoint. All the consoles were on emergency backup and the barricade that an armed guard would have stood behind was empty. I checked it for ammo but no luck. 3 kept going deeper down the hall. We passed about 10-15 seperate typical offices where I assume the scientist here would have kept notes and done paperwork. The end of the hall was marked by a T intersection. On the wall in front there was a directory. To the right was "Labratory", "Mess Hall", and "Transit Station". Transit Station? I thought. Better check that out. The left side was labelled "Security", and "Subject Chambers". Makes sense I guess. I bet all these scientists slept in a seperate building, meanwhile they probably kept 3 here under lock and key. We took a left at the end of the hall and ended up at another door. 3 gently pushed the console next to the door and the light swapped from red to green as the door sssssked open.
We passed security on our way through the hall and I could see a weapons cage inside the security office. Hell yeah I thought. I wanted to turn and start stocking up on supplies but 3 gently pulled my hand towards the end of the hall. Alright kid. Maybe you've got some extra clothes in here huh? Well need em. 3 opened the door to another area labelled "Subject Chambers." I entered inside and inhaled somewhat sharply.
There were 4 cryochambers, 2 on each wall, that immediately flanked the doorway as you entered. All of them were vacant and non operational. 3 walked past the cryotubes and up a small two stair incline onto a small play area. It had some simple blocks, a couple bits of paper and threee or four boxes of crayons. 3 seemed to try to ignore the cryotubes but couldnt.
"Whenever we would be bad," she gently gestured to the cryo tubes "the doctors would put us in there". She walked over to one of the 4 beds and sat down on it. It was simple with white lined and a typical medical blanket. "This is my bed" 3 said. "That one was 2's and those ones were "1, and 4". 3 gestured towards the other beds laid out in similar fashion to the cryochambers.
I tried to compose myself for a moment. How could this happen? Theres no way this was sanctioned by the Ministry. No way in hell. These had to be rogues scientists, and wed helped evacuate them. Dammit. I knelt down beside 3, "Did they give you any clothes 3? Any jackets or pants or anything?"
3 shook their head. "We never needed em. The doctors gave us medicine that made us warm." 3's eyes dropped and they tried to sound out a word. "The did some eggs-spear-ear-ants and then to test them they put us outside. 1 and 4 didnt get cold, like me, but 2..." 3 looked over at 2's bed. "2 got cold."
End part 3. Im not good at picking where to stop so I just base it off of word count sorta. Feel free to suggest names for 3!
submitted by ChristLover10 to helldivers2 [link] [comments]
I started looking around the room for anything useful. Checked a few lockers pretty quickly. I was looking for something specific. Pictures of family, lab coats, the entire collection helldivers trading cards, and your typical personal belongings. Damn. Youd have figured at least one... HERE it is! I reached into the second to last locker on a wall of ten and found a loaded Peacemaker. I stapped the holster over one shoulder and under another across my chest for ease of access. Can never have to many weapons. I took the extra mags and stored them in my left thigh pouch.
3 just watched as I completely gutted the room for anything useful. They sort of shuffled behind me after a couple minutes. Following behind me like a domesticated pet.
I search the cupboards above one of the desks and found some typical workplace memos. "No fraternization without a signed C0-1 permit," toss, "Make sure to enjoy at least one 30 second break every day," useless. I closed the cupboard and looked under the desk. There was a safe with a pretty decent lock on it. Well, decent for civilians. It was a digital combination lock with a biometric finger scan and eye scan. Whatever was in here had to be good. I pulled the retractable cord out of my wristpad and plugged into the input in the safe. Turned the whole 3 point security system into a series of directional inputs. Up, down, left, left, right, down, done. The safe Clicked and popped open slightly.
Inside was just a keycard labelled "Master". It was a hefty card made of metal about a quarter of an inch thick and 3 inches by 2 inches on its face. I tucked it under my wristpad in a small pouch between it and my wrist. 3 was just standing behind me holding Mr. Ears.
They just wore a gown. No socks, no pants or anything to keep them warm. Alright, add that to the list. Clothes shopping for the lab experiment. Other than what i'd already searched there wasnt anything else in this building that I could see. I put my hands on my hips and sort of paced for a moment.
"Do you want to see my room?" 3 said. I stopped pacing and looked back at 3. Of course! I thought. This kid would have had to sleep somewhere and as far as I could see there wasnt a bed in here. How did 3 end up in here anyway? Did they walk out in the cold from another building? Tough kid. Maybe one of the doctors carried em over and just... left them here. The thought angered me. I started towards the door when a small hand pulled on my cape. The cape itself had red trim with a black and white design on it. A simple red skull sat smack dab in the middle. A cape to remember those lost at the Creek.
I turned around to see 3 point towards a wall at the backside of the building some 30 ft. Away. "Its this way mister." 3 ran towards the wall and gently pushed in a hidden button. The wall sunk inwards and moved down to reveal a stairwell going down. Flickering lights barely illuminating the stairwell. I slowly approached the stairwell as 3 just stood next to the button looking up at me, their face devoid of emotion. They walked through the doorway and started climbing down the stairs with a bit of effort. They held the hand rail and carefully descended.
I kept my flashlight on and pointed down and ahead, letting 3 lead by a couple feet. My right hand dangled next to my senator instinctively. No need to draw it just yet. It was a winding stairway that continued down for 3 floors. At the bottom there was another automatic doorway. It was a double door that opened from the middle but one side was jammed and the other just sort of bounced between being fully open and slightly ajar. The lights continued to flicker. 3 walked through the opening without hesitation, their little feet making pat, pat sounds on the cold metal floor.
Checks out I thought. Distant planet, secret experiments, gotta have a secret labratory underground. I sidestepped through the door way and into a security checkpoint. All the consoles were on emergency backup and the barricade that an armed guard would have stood behind was empty. I checked it for ammo but no luck. 3 kept going deeper down the hall. We passed about 10-15 seperate typical offices where I assume the scientist here would have kept notes and done paperwork. The end of the hall was marked by a T intersection. On the wall in front there was a directory. To the right was "Labratory", "Mess Hall", and "Transit Station". Transit Station? I thought. Better check that out. The left side was labelled "Security", and "Subject Chambers". Makes sense I guess. I bet all these scientists slept in a seperate building, meanwhile they probably kept 3 here under lock and key. We took a left at the end of the hall and ended up at another door. 3 gently pushed the console next to the door and the light swapped from red to green as the door sssssked open.
We passed security on our way through the hall and I could see a weapons cage inside the security office. Hell yeah I thought. I wanted to turn and start stocking up on supplies but 3 gently pulled my hand towards the end of the hall. Alright kid. Maybe you've got some extra clothes in here huh? Well need em. 3 opened the door to another area labelled "Subject Chambers." I entered inside and inhaled somewhat sharply.
There were 4 cryochambers, 2 on each wall, that immediately flanked the doorway as you entered. All of them were vacant and non operational. 3 walked past the cryotubes and up a small two stair incline onto a small play area. It had some simple blocks, a couple bits of paper and threee or four boxes of crayons. 3 seemed to try to ignore the cryotubes but couldnt.
"Whenever we would be bad," she gently gestured to the cryo tubes "the doctors would put us in there". She walked over to one of the 4 beds and sat down on it. It was simple with white lined and a typical medical blanket. "This is my bed" 3 said. "That one was 2's and those ones were "1, and 4". 3 gestured towards the other beds laid out in similar fashion to the cryochambers.
I tried to compose myself for a moment. How could this happen? Theres no way this was sanctioned by the Ministry. No way in hell. These had to be rogues scientists, and wed helped evacuate them. Dammit. I knelt down beside 3, "Did they give you any clothes 3? Any jackets or pants or anything?"
3 shook their head. "We never needed em. The doctors gave us medicine that made us warm." 3's eyes dropped and they tried to sound out a word. "The did some eggs-spear-ear-ants and then to test them they put us outside. 1 and 4 didnt get cold, like me, but 2..." 3 looked over at 2's bed. "2 got cold."
End part 3. Im not good at picking where to stop so I just base it off of word count sorta. Feel free to suggest names for 3!
2024.05.19 21:42 HumanSupremacyFan Empire of Statues
--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?
submitted by HumanSupremacyFan to HFY [link] [comments]
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--
earlier
"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?
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2024.05.19 21:40 OddResolution8086 Why don’t my friends stick up for me?
There’s a girl in my friend group, I’ll call her B. We’ve been in the same friend group for 4 years and we were friends for those first 2 years. She loves to stir up drama and cuss (she doesn’t even use the words right sometimes). For a while I was the only one out of my friend group of 8 who called her out. If I have to speak up for something, you know it has to be bad. (I’m really quiet and introverted but this whole situation helped me to finally find my voice). She talks about her “friends” behind their backs to get attention from others. She told another girl that my friend (A)s prom dress was ugly. At prom pics A’s mom ignored B, causing her to ask another friend (E) why. E told her that A knew B called her prom dress ugly and B asked if anyone else was mad at her. E told her that we were all tired of her cussing all the time and talking bad about us. She (thankfully) didn’t show up to the sleepover after prom. Instead of apologizing, B blatantly ignored everyone for a few weeks and then came back to the friend group on the last day of school (without an apology) as if nothing happened. And those friends, who I had stuck up for when B talked about them, let her come back instead of sticking up for you like I did for them. I hate crying in front of others but at lunch I cried in front of 2 of my friends, telling them I couldn’t take it and was going to eat with a teacher. They said “it’s ok, let’s just get a lunch table picture before you go” and I went to the bathroom and cried. I have told my group how B has hurt me and made my life a living hell for the past 2 years and I thought we were all on the same page about her. The few weeks she was ignoring us I felt like I could actually talk at my lunch table and I was happier. I don’t understand why they picking the girl who talked about them behind their backs over the girl who stood up for them when she did.
Other things she’s done: -Blatantly flirted to the guy I was dating in front of my behind my back -wrote a list of how our friend group “would split” (bcs of drama she created) -said a dress wouldn’t look good on a girl cause “she was too boxy” -constantly “mishears” what ppl say and says she thought they said _________ (and it’s always something really vulgar) -ignored me for half a year and wouldn’t even look at me (I thought it was kind of funny) -tried to pry info abt the guy I was dating out of me by being fake nice
That was theraputic to get off my chest 🤣
submitted by OddResolution8086 to FriendshipAdvice [link] [comments]
Other things she’s done: -Blatantly flirted to the guy I was dating in front of my behind my back -wrote a list of how our friend group “would split” (bcs of drama she created) -said a dress wouldn’t look good on a girl cause “she was too boxy” -constantly “mishears” what ppl say and says she thought they said _________ (and it’s always something really vulgar) -ignored me for half a year and wouldn’t even look at me (I thought it was kind of funny) -tried to pry info abt the guy I was dating out of me by being fake nice
That was theraputic to get off my chest 🤣
2024.05.19 21:38 OddResolution8086 Why don’t my friends stick up for me? (Advice/storytime)
There’s a girl in my friend group, I’ll call her B. We’ve been in the same friend group for 4 years and we were friends for those first 2 years. She loves to stir up drama and cuss (she doesn’t even use the words right sometimes). For a while I was the only one out of my friend group of 8 who called her out. If I have to speak up for something, you know it has to be bad. (I’m really quiet and introverted but this whole situation helped me to finally find my voice). She talks about her “friends” behind their backs to get attention from others. She told another girl that my friend (A)s prom dress was ugly. At prom pics A’s mom ignored B, causing her to ask another friend (E) why. E told her that A knew B called her prom dress ugly and B asked if anyone else was mad at her. E told her that we were all tired of her cussing all the time and talking bad about us. She (thankfully) didn’t show up to the sleepover after prom. Instead of apologizing, B blatantly ignored everyone for a few weeks and then came back to the friend group on the last day of school (without an apology) as if nothing happened. And those friends, who I had stuck up for when B talked about them, let her come back instead of sticking up for you like I did for them. I hate crying in front of others but at lunch I cried in front of 2 of my friends, telling them I couldn’t take it and was going to eat with a teacher. They said “it’s ok, let’s just get a lunch table picture before you go” and I went to the bathroom and cried. I have told my group how B has hurt me and made my life a living hell for the past 2 years and I thought we were all on the same page about her. The few weeks she was ignoring us I felt like I could actually talk at my lunch table and I was happier. I don’t understand why they picking the girl who talked about them behind their backs over the girl who stood up for them when she did.
Other things she’s done: -Blatantly flirted to the guy I was dating in front of my behind my back -wrote a list of how our friend group “would split” (bcs of drama she created) -said a dress wouldn’t look good on a girl cause “she was too boxy” -constantly “mishears” what ppl say and says she thought they said _________ (and it’s always something really vulgar) -ignored me for half a year and wouldn’t even look at me (I thought it was kind of funny) -tried to pry info abt the guy I was dating out of me by being fake nice
That was theraputic to get off my chest 🤣
submitted by OddResolution8086 to friendship [link] [comments]
Other things she’s done: -Blatantly flirted to the guy I was dating in front of my behind my back -wrote a list of how our friend group “would split” (bcs of drama she created) -said a dress wouldn’t look good on a girl cause “she was too boxy” -constantly “mishears” what ppl say and says she thought they said _________ (and it’s always something really vulgar) -ignored me for half a year and wouldn’t even look at me (I thought it was kind of funny) -tried to pry info abt the guy I was dating out of me by being fake nice
That was theraputic to get off my chest 🤣
2024.05.19 21:33 SuperTeaching9369 My sister says I gaslighted her when I told her that she misheard me, and I don't know where to go from here
This is a little bit of a long one, but I really need your help. I (29F) was on the phone recently with my sister (33F) while walking in the center of a loud, busy city, and was telling her the news that our cousin is pregnant. This is super exciting news, as this would be the first grandchild from our generation of the family, and the first great grandchild for our grandmother, who is in her 90s. Grandma is quite traditional, and also has talked about how wonderful it would be to see us grandchildren get married and meet her great grandchildren someday. My sister and my grandmother have not always gotten along, since my sister is not at all traditional and my grandmother hasn't been kind at times about her choices. In recent years, my grandmother has started to show some signs of confusion, and now often is in the hospital, and while she has in the past been quite even tempered (though judgemental) now is sometimes quite mean and mixes people up (she sometimes thinks I am my sister), depending on if she has an infection or has taken her medication. Regardless, my sister and my grandmother do not get along, and my sister is often uncomfortable around my grandmother, as am I at times. So, I was telling my sister that our cousin is pregnant, and that our grandmother had told our dad this news while she was in hospital, and he had confirmed with my cousin's mother (my aunt) that this was, in fact, true. After I said this, my sister paused, and then said:
Her: "Grandma was uncomfortable?"
Me: "No, grandma wasn't uncomfortable, she was in hospital" Her: "..." silence
And so I repeated myself again and enunciated, since I thought that she didn't hear me due to the noise of the downtown surroundings, and given the the context of my traditional grandmother's judgemental nature and poor relationship with my sister, and that my grandmother might plausibly be uncomfortable with my cousin's out of wedlock pregnancy, I thought it very important to get the message across that my sister had misheard me so as to avoid any possible future discomfort or drama in the family about this.
Me: "Grandma wasn't uncomfortable, I didn't say uncomfortable, I said that she was in the hospital"
More silence. It was a bizarre, disconcerting silence, but then I figured maybe the call was dropped for some reason, so I asked if she was still there.
Me: "Hello? Are you there?" Her: "Yeah." "..." Her: "Can we talk about how you spoke to me there? I didn't like it. You are angry with me and your tone wasn't nice".
I was surprised by this, but was willing to talk out a misunderstanding. I told her that I wasn't angry, I was trying to tell her what I had said, and what she heard wasn't what I had said and that it is very loud where I was. I said that me being angry wasn't what had just happened, I was just trying to communicate what I had said. She then paused again.
Her: "I think that you're gaslighting me with what just happened"
I was honestly shocked by this, as this interaction seemed to escalate exponentially from sharing family good news to a point where I was being accused of using a tactic of abuse and manipulation, and honestly was hurt and did stumble in my words with how I responded. I honestly am not proud of how I responded, and I know that I didn't use the right words here. I know this, and I also was so shocked at the accusation, that I couldn't compute what was going on and that is why I stumbled.
I calmly told her that I wasn't angry then, but now I am, as I didn't know what was happening, and that saying that someone is gaslighting is truly a heavy accusation. I continued and said that she is allowed to experience things in her way, and that my experience wasn't the same, and that I wasn't angry with her and that I was just talking normally. I said that I didnt know how to continue to talk with her at that moment without walking on eggshells, so it was probably best that we speak another time.
I said: "I'm sorry that you feel that way", and as soon as I said it, I knew that there was no going back. I know what an apology looks and sounds like, and that wasn't it. I was so shocked and confused (and hurt, tbh) about what had just happened, and at the same time I also was angry and felt like I didn't have anything to apologize for, considering I literally wasn't angry in the first place and was just trying to make sure she heard what I was saying.
I felt backed into a corner, where if I said anything of how I experienced our interaction, it would now be seen as undermining her reality. I didn't see the point in talking further in that phone call, especially because it seemed like if I said anything even seemingly innocuous in a tone that I couldn't identify as being aggressive, it would make the situation worse, and so I told her that it would probably be best to speak at another time. She told me that it was unfortunate that I didn't want to talk to work things out in that moment, but she will talk to me later.
I don't know how she wanted me to respond to this, as I also don't believe that I truly did anything wrong. I don't know what to do, since ironically, apologizing for something that didn't happen (ie me being angry) is also a denial of my own reality of what happened. Really, to me it was a miscommunication and a disagreement. I am extremely hurt by the use of the word gaslighting, as from what I can see, it was a miscommunication, and now I am thinking that my sister thinks that I abuse and manipulate her.
Context: My sister was, in a lot of ways, forced to be my mom growing up for various reasons, one being the poor mental health of our mother and her abusive (and, textbook gaslighting) outbursts. It was unfair to her, and it also is what happened, and she often shielded me from the worst of things. This closely bonded us, but in a way that was not healthy into our adulthood, as this bond was out of survival. Over the past 10 years, I have done a lot of healing in therapy and have made boundaries with my family, even going as far as not having a relationship with my real mom. I have told my sister that I love her and that I want her to be my sister, and not my mom, and that she should never have been put in that position. I long for closeness like we had before, but a healthy version of that. We also both have been in abusive romantic relationships before (which now, comes as no surprise) that used gaslighting as a tactic to control and manipulate. This is another reason why I am so dumbfounded, as she knows what being gaslit actually means.
As for my tone, this is a complaint that I have heard from only my sister, and from noone else in my life - not friends, other family, coworkers, bosses, ect. I am a community worker and am literally paid to work collaboratively with vulnerable populations and the general public, so it is my job to communicate politely and kindly, without harshness or judgement. Not saying it might not happen sometimes, I am only human, but... gaslighting?? I don't know how to go forward with this without apologizing for something I didn't do, and admitting that I am something that I am not. It feels like I am losing my sister.
How should I approach this where we both feel heard and understood? What would you do in this scenario?
submitted by SuperTeaching9369 to TwoHotTakes [link] [comments]
Her: "Grandma was uncomfortable?"
Me: "No, grandma wasn't uncomfortable, she was in hospital" Her: "..." silence
And so I repeated myself again and enunciated, since I thought that she didn't hear me due to the noise of the downtown surroundings, and given the the context of my traditional grandmother's judgemental nature and poor relationship with my sister, and that my grandmother might plausibly be uncomfortable with my cousin's out of wedlock pregnancy, I thought it very important to get the message across that my sister had misheard me so as to avoid any possible future discomfort or drama in the family about this.
Me: "Grandma wasn't uncomfortable, I didn't say uncomfortable, I said that she was in the hospital"
More silence. It was a bizarre, disconcerting silence, but then I figured maybe the call was dropped for some reason, so I asked if she was still there.
Me: "Hello? Are you there?" Her: "Yeah." "..." Her: "Can we talk about how you spoke to me there? I didn't like it. You are angry with me and your tone wasn't nice".
I was surprised by this, but was willing to talk out a misunderstanding. I told her that I wasn't angry, I was trying to tell her what I had said, and what she heard wasn't what I had said and that it is very loud where I was. I said that me being angry wasn't what had just happened, I was just trying to communicate what I had said. She then paused again.
Her: "I think that you're gaslighting me with what just happened"
I was honestly shocked by this, as this interaction seemed to escalate exponentially from sharing family good news to a point where I was being accused of using a tactic of abuse and manipulation, and honestly was hurt and did stumble in my words with how I responded. I honestly am not proud of how I responded, and I know that I didn't use the right words here. I know this, and I also was so shocked at the accusation, that I couldn't compute what was going on and that is why I stumbled.
I calmly told her that I wasn't angry then, but now I am, as I didn't know what was happening, and that saying that someone is gaslighting is truly a heavy accusation. I continued and said that she is allowed to experience things in her way, and that my experience wasn't the same, and that I wasn't angry with her and that I was just talking normally. I said that I didnt know how to continue to talk with her at that moment without walking on eggshells, so it was probably best that we speak another time.
I said: "I'm sorry that you feel that way", and as soon as I said it, I knew that there was no going back. I know what an apology looks and sounds like, and that wasn't it. I was so shocked and confused (and hurt, tbh) about what had just happened, and at the same time I also was angry and felt like I didn't have anything to apologize for, considering I literally wasn't angry in the first place and was just trying to make sure she heard what I was saying.
I felt backed into a corner, where if I said anything of how I experienced our interaction, it would now be seen as undermining her reality. I didn't see the point in talking further in that phone call, especially because it seemed like if I said anything even seemingly innocuous in a tone that I couldn't identify as being aggressive, it would make the situation worse, and so I told her that it would probably be best to speak at another time. She told me that it was unfortunate that I didn't want to talk to work things out in that moment, but she will talk to me later.
I don't know how she wanted me to respond to this, as I also don't believe that I truly did anything wrong. I don't know what to do, since ironically, apologizing for something that didn't happen (ie me being angry) is also a denial of my own reality of what happened. Really, to me it was a miscommunication and a disagreement. I am extremely hurt by the use of the word gaslighting, as from what I can see, it was a miscommunication, and now I am thinking that my sister thinks that I abuse and manipulate her.
Context: My sister was, in a lot of ways, forced to be my mom growing up for various reasons, one being the poor mental health of our mother and her abusive (and, textbook gaslighting) outbursts. It was unfair to her, and it also is what happened, and she often shielded me from the worst of things. This closely bonded us, but in a way that was not healthy into our adulthood, as this bond was out of survival. Over the past 10 years, I have done a lot of healing in therapy and have made boundaries with my family, even going as far as not having a relationship with my real mom. I have told my sister that I love her and that I want her to be my sister, and not my mom, and that she should never have been put in that position. I long for closeness like we had before, but a healthy version of that. We also both have been in abusive romantic relationships before (which now, comes as no surprise) that used gaslighting as a tactic to control and manipulate. This is another reason why I am so dumbfounded, as she knows what being gaslit actually means.
As for my tone, this is a complaint that I have heard from only my sister, and from noone else in my life - not friends, other family, coworkers, bosses, ect. I am a community worker and am literally paid to work collaboratively with vulnerable populations and the general public, so it is my job to communicate politely and kindly, without harshness or judgement. Not saying it might not happen sometimes, I am only human, but... gaslighting?? I don't know how to go forward with this without apologizing for something I didn't do, and admitting that I am something that I am not. It feels like I am losing my sister.
How should I approach this where we both feel heard and understood? What would you do in this scenario?
2024.05.19 21:32 slucky_7 [SF] Flying rock
A loud blast in gulfs the small life less camp, a bigger explosion hits the barn and a huge rock hits it's roof. Rushing to the scene five fire fighters in one truck, as Soon as they arrive three start to grab the hose and the last two prepare the water by turning the small wheel to run the water.The last turn and the rushing water comes flying out pushing the men back, they lift the hose aiming for the barn.Three hours later the fire has rested, the barn covered in black ash lays lifelessly on the ground in the black charred dirt, the men sift looking for victims. An hour later they hit and find something massive at first one thought it was a burnt up ash of a cow, but then they found a massive rock! The fore men cautiously take a look to find it was still very hot and still smoldering in the ground. The men call the police and anyone who could help them identify this unearthly rock.The police arrive with a few towns people who were professors at the nearby college, looking and studying the rock one professor came to conclude that it wasn't a rock, but a huge meteorite that made its way from space to earth. As soon as the professor told the people they decided to remove it, two hours later a crane arrived to pick up this massive meteorite the tow truck backed up and the man hoped out wrapping the old rusted chains around it giving it a tug to check the chains, he gets in the truck and presses the accelerator gently. Not bearing the meteorite suddenly becomes engulfed in flames once more, the people who were standing there are now apart of the black silted dirt that surrounds the rock, two of the firemen call for backup and drives away giving it room.The meteorite then moves forward towards the small pool of water near the barn, touching the water the meteorite suddenly explodes killing the remaining people surrounding, the helplessly bodies charred and smoldering lay as if they were two the barn.The meteorite then shifts into the earth turning into a smaller lengthy slithering object. Twenty minutes have past and the backup arrives, the firemen hop out looking at a field covered in ash and the charred bodies of their friends, the fire truck still on fire burns away into the deep smoke filled darkness of the night. Holding a small memorial a couple days later the town mourns the loss of it's fellow friends and fire fighters and the sons of the men as they are carried in
there small wooden caskets with a red white and blue flag with fifty stars.The wife's of the men weeped until their eyes were dry. Lowering into the ground the caskets moved slowly into the layered brown dirt, the fire men speak to the town leaving peaceful words. The next day the firemen are called to a small brushfire near the towns edge were the cemetery and the church are located, speeding down the dirt road they arrive to find that the fire has not yet reach any structures, rushing out they grab shovels and pix axes to dig trenches around the main structures, on doing so the fire grows bigger each second.The wind picked up carrying the flames towards the helpless men and the church, the pine trees surrounding the church suddenly catch fire as if they were fuel, the men trapped run into the church hoping for a miracle. Praying and sitting the men wait, wait for their last breath into the fire. The church now on fire starts to collapse with giant beams falling into the middle, one of the men is struck and killed instantly as the other men watch, crying the other men are inflamed and burning with their suit melting. Running the men fall laying on the ground charred and killed. The town now mourns the loss of more men and the loss of their church, standing near the water on the other side of town they let the caskets peacefully float and flow down the river bobbing down and up traveling towards the wooden bridge.The community now devastated does whatever possible to prevent more fires. Couple quiet and peaceful months later the wells dry up, people now only now have one source of water and it's the old shallow river, the river used for transportation has never been consumed of by humans.The townspeople do not like to drink from the river because they have seen the animals that have done so and died because of the contaminated water.Taking the water the towns people boil and make sure the water is crystal clear, floating down the Rivera small boat arrives with a black small tank to store the water for the people. Only having enough to last them for a couple weeks. Two weeks later three people have died of dehydration and worse the river has dried up.The townspeople call for help but no one responds. Curious the sheriff leaves to go out to the other town, reaching the end of the town crossing into the other county the sheriff is suddenly stopped by a gunshot to his tires, rushing from behind a small tree and foliage three camouflaged soldiers in uniform yell and tell the sheriff to stop.The sheriff walking out of the vehicle tells the soldiers
not to shoot and that he is the sheriff, uncaringly the soldiers then shoot him in the knee making flesh and bone fly off and exposing the muscle and bone that is now destroyed by the bullet, crying and laying on the ground the sheriff crawls toward the soldier asking why he shot him, the soldier then answers with his gun firing once more in the sheriffs skull splitting it and exposing the oozing brains that soak into the dry ground. Worried the townspeople wait for the sheriff to return with more water, they wait for three hours before sending a search party with two people, two young men in their early twenties load up into the truck, the men grabbed two guns one .308 lever action rifle and the other a 16 gauge shotgun, following the tire tracks of the sheriffs vehicle they finally come across his vehicle. Getting out of the truck the two men cautiously step out and walk up inspecting the vehicle, stepping into the blood soaked ground the men find two bullet casings marked m.i. USA NATO .223, recognizing the case one man says that this is a military weapon that this case was fired from the other man in disbelief agrees and searches more for more clues. Looking at the car one man sees that one bullet pierced the tires, but looks for the location of were the other one has hit.The blood that they stepped in is now almost soaked into the ground.The men look once more and them crawls back into the truck driving forward toward the car. Inching closely to the vehicle a loud boom and a shriek of a bullet comes piercing through the window into the passengers jaw splitting and tearing the flesh from his mouth.The lower jaw is now gone, teeth now litter the floor and on the dashboard with flesh and blood covering the seat.The passenger shrieking in pain cant speak, he mumbles and makes noises that is unrecognizable, the driver panicking ducks and slams the gas crashing into the vehicle, flying through the windshield the driver slams into the back of the car breaking the glass perching his flesh on his face.The driver then crawls into the vehicle hoping not to get shot, soldiers rush to the truck to find a moaning guy who half of his jaw is gone, they forcefully yank him and throw him to the dirt covered ground, his clothes covered in dust he now knows he is not gonna live very long. The sun is now setting on the small town of the twenty three people that is left, clouds start to build up and it now begins to rain, people rushing out of there homes grab any kind of device to catch the rain in, thirty minutes pass and It is now dark and a light drizzle still falls.The parents of the two sons wait till its eight the expected arrival time of the men. Eight comes very slowly with the parents waiting eagerly to meet there children once more. Eight thirty passes and no
signs of any vehicle or their children come.The parents now worried begin to panic and and wait a little more.While waiting the parents fall into a deep sleep not waking until ten the next morning.The chickens pecking at the ground begin to die slowly due to starvation, the ants slowly eat and surround the dead chickens in swarms.The townspeople now all awake begin to make plans to search for all of the people that are missing, the mayor of the town decides split into four, three people stay in town and five groups of four are made each taking a side of the town. Slowly walking away you can hear the voices of the people calling out the names of the loss. Footsteps cover the ground following the tire tracks, each person inspecting every part of the surroundings as much as possible.Thirty minutes later they get a glimpse of a smoke cloud up ahead, smelling burning rubber the black thick smoke surrounds the group, covering up their noses and mouth they search both vehicles. One person yells out to the others that he found one man on the ground burnt to a crisp smoldering. Dragging the body the flesh melts into the persons hand burning and stinging his flesh, unable to drag the body anymore the group panics and runs toward the town, running through the thick dead grass and bushes a small beeping noise alerts the group, the leader suddenly is instantly vaporized into a cloud of flesh and blood, realizing that they have ran into a minefield.The people seeing the aftermath of the mines begin to freak out and spread. Returning to the small town the four groups meet back up to discuss what they have found.They begin to count to make sure all twenty three are there, but they see four are still gone, waiting they here yelling from afar. Hearing the yelling all of the groups run out too see what the noise is.A dust covered man runs out of the dead dry grass towards the group, once reaching the group the man falls to his knees and cries and mumbles. Curious of why he is crying the people start to question him. Two days later three more people have died of starvation, the town not knowing what to do decides to dig and find water.The mayor calls for a meeting at the center of the town, all of the townspeople gather and listen to the mayor.The mayor speaks about digging and where they should dig, after the long pointless speech the townspeople gather digging supplies such as shovels pix axes and more, traveling to the location the people begin to chomp away at the rock hard sandy dirt.
Five hours later a man in his early thirties hits a hard piece of metal of some sort, curious they begin to dig around it. Reaching one side they decide to leave it a dig around it, but one man curious still wants to dig it out. It was now dark and no water has been found, without the water no one will be able to work any longer, but one man still out working is still trying to dig up the huge metal round rock. Giving up he shoots his anger towards the rock hitting it as hard as he could with the pic axe, as soon as he hit it the third time the rock began to move, freaking out the man began to run but was struck by a piece of limestone going through his abdomen killing him.The rock is now gone a afar where no one will reach it again. The next morning the townspeople awoke to find the body of the man and also the weapon, the limestone was small and rectangular in shape. Inspecting the body one man believes it was one of the townspeople that killed him, another man also agrees and begins to investigate. Rushing towards a small house outside of town the two men slam open the door and barge in, the man laying in his bed is grabbed and beaten, the man questions the men, the men answer by telling him that he is a murderer, puzzled the man tells them that he is not, but sure they take him out to the center of the town. Coming out of their homes the townspeople are surprised and also believe that he is the murderer. Five men and one woman look for anything they can burn, finding sticks and logs they begin to stack them into a bed, the bed now made is the final resting place for the accused murderer. Walking towards the bed the murderer begins to cry and shout out, but no one cares, once laying on the bed the man is bound by his hands by a small rope. Struggling on the bed another man lights a torch and throws it under the bed, catching on fire the wood slowly burns, the man now covered in flames is heard from far away yelling and crying with screams of pain. Smoke covers the town and the smell of burning flesh smothers the noses of the people around.Two hours later the bed is now completely burned down, all that is left is a small pile of ash and a burnt bones of the man. Digging a hole the townspeople push the ash in and bury him to be lost forever. With now fourteen people left in the town the mayor gives up, he waits in his small dirty house alone for any hope.Two days past and no signs until one man is seen digging in the dried up river, the mayor catching a glimpse of him steps outside to get a better view, stepping out side the mayor stands watching from
afar.Twenty minutes pass and the man begins to yell, the mayor hearing and seeing him rushes towards him as fast as possible. Getting closer the mayor can see a small pool of water beneath the mans feet, in joy the mayor calls the townspeople telling them to dig again. Only three people show up by the river telling the mayor that the others are to tired and need water to work, grabbing the shovels the people begin to dig, the mayor runs to his house and grabs buckets to fill. One hour has past and the mayor now has five buckets of water, preparing the fire to boil the water a small woman stands waiting for the fire to spark off, the fire finally catches and is burning furiously, grabbing the water she begins to boil one bucket at a time. People now begin to show up waiting for there chance to finally taste some liquid.
submitted by slucky_7 to shortstories [link] [comments]
there small wooden caskets with a red white and blue flag with fifty stars.The wife's of the men weeped until their eyes were dry. Lowering into the ground the caskets moved slowly into the layered brown dirt, the fire men speak to the town leaving peaceful words. The next day the firemen are called to a small brushfire near the towns edge were the cemetery and the church are located, speeding down the dirt road they arrive to find that the fire has not yet reach any structures, rushing out they grab shovels and pix axes to dig trenches around the main structures, on doing so the fire grows bigger each second.The wind picked up carrying the flames towards the helpless men and the church, the pine trees surrounding the church suddenly catch fire as if they were fuel, the men trapped run into the church hoping for a miracle. Praying and sitting the men wait, wait for their last breath into the fire. The church now on fire starts to collapse with giant beams falling into the middle, one of the men is struck and killed instantly as the other men watch, crying the other men are inflamed and burning with their suit melting. Running the men fall laying on the ground charred and killed. The town now mourns the loss of more men and the loss of their church, standing near the water on the other side of town they let the caskets peacefully float and flow down the river bobbing down and up traveling towards the wooden bridge.The community now devastated does whatever possible to prevent more fires. Couple quiet and peaceful months later the wells dry up, people now only now have one source of water and it's the old shallow river, the river used for transportation has never been consumed of by humans.The townspeople do not like to drink from the river because they have seen the animals that have done so and died because of the contaminated water.Taking the water the towns people boil and make sure the water is crystal clear, floating down the Rivera small boat arrives with a black small tank to store the water for the people. Only having enough to last them for a couple weeks. Two weeks later three people have died of dehydration and worse the river has dried up.The townspeople call for help but no one responds. Curious the sheriff leaves to go out to the other town, reaching the end of the town crossing into the other county the sheriff is suddenly stopped by a gunshot to his tires, rushing from behind a small tree and foliage three camouflaged soldiers in uniform yell and tell the sheriff to stop.The sheriff walking out of the vehicle tells the soldiers
not to shoot and that he is the sheriff, uncaringly the soldiers then shoot him in the knee making flesh and bone fly off and exposing the muscle and bone that is now destroyed by the bullet, crying and laying on the ground the sheriff crawls toward the soldier asking why he shot him, the soldier then answers with his gun firing once more in the sheriffs skull splitting it and exposing the oozing brains that soak into the dry ground. Worried the townspeople wait for the sheriff to return with more water, they wait for three hours before sending a search party with two people, two young men in their early twenties load up into the truck, the men grabbed two guns one .308 lever action rifle and the other a 16 gauge shotgun, following the tire tracks of the sheriffs vehicle they finally come across his vehicle. Getting out of the truck the two men cautiously step out and walk up inspecting the vehicle, stepping into the blood soaked ground the men find two bullet casings marked m.i. USA NATO .223, recognizing the case one man says that this is a military weapon that this case was fired from the other man in disbelief agrees and searches more for more clues. Looking at the car one man sees that one bullet pierced the tires, but looks for the location of were the other one has hit.The blood that they stepped in is now almost soaked into the ground.The men look once more and them crawls back into the truck driving forward toward the car. Inching closely to the vehicle a loud boom and a shriek of a bullet comes piercing through the window into the passengers jaw splitting and tearing the flesh from his mouth.The lower jaw is now gone, teeth now litter the floor and on the dashboard with flesh and blood covering the seat.The passenger shrieking in pain cant speak, he mumbles and makes noises that is unrecognizable, the driver panicking ducks and slams the gas crashing into the vehicle, flying through the windshield the driver slams into the back of the car breaking the glass perching his flesh on his face.The driver then crawls into the vehicle hoping not to get shot, soldiers rush to the truck to find a moaning guy who half of his jaw is gone, they forcefully yank him and throw him to the dirt covered ground, his clothes covered in dust he now knows he is not gonna live very long. The sun is now setting on the small town of the twenty three people that is left, clouds start to build up and it now begins to rain, people rushing out of there homes grab any kind of device to catch the rain in, thirty minutes pass and It is now dark and a light drizzle still falls.The parents of the two sons wait till its eight the expected arrival time of the men. Eight comes very slowly with the parents waiting eagerly to meet there children once more. Eight thirty passes and no
signs of any vehicle or their children come.The parents now worried begin to panic and and wait a little more.While waiting the parents fall into a deep sleep not waking until ten the next morning.The chickens pecking at the ground begin to die slowly due to starvation, the ants slowly eat and surround the dead chickens in swarms.The townspeople now all awake begin to make plans to search for all of the people that are missing, the mayor of the town decides split into four, three people stay in town and five groups of four are made each taking a side of the town. Slowly walking away you can hear the voices of the people calling out the names of the loss. Footsteps cover the ground following the tire tracks, each person inspecting every part of the surroundings as much as possible.Thirty minutes later they get a glimpse of a smoke cloud up ahead, smelling burning rubber the black thick smoke surrounds the group, covering up their noses and mouth they search both vehicles. One person yells out to the others that he found one man on the ground burnt to a crisp smoldering. Dragging the body the flesh melts into the persons hand burning and stinging his flesh, unable to drag the body anymore the group panics and runs toward the town, running through the thick dead grass and bushes a small beeping noise alerts the group, the leader suddenly is instantly vaporized into a cloud of flesh and blood, realizing that they have ran into a minefield.The people seeing the aftermath of the mines begin to freak out and spread. Returning to the small town the four groups meet back up to discuss what they have found.They begin to count to make sure all twenty three are there, but they see four are still gone, waiting they here yelling from afar. Hearing the yelling all of the groups run out too see what the noise is.A dust covered man runs out of the dead dry grass towards the group, once reaching the group the man falls to his knees and cries and mumbles. Curious of why he is crying the people start to question him. Two days later three more people have died of starvation, the town not knowing what to do decides to dig and find water.The mayor calls for a meeting at the center of the town, all of the townspeople gather and listen to the mayor.The mayor speaks about digging and where they should dig, after the long pointless speech the townspeople gather digging supplies such as shovels pix axes and more, traveling to the location the people begin to chomp away at the rock hard sandy dirt.
Five hours later a man in his early thirties hits a hard piece of metal of some sort, curious they begin to dig around it. Reaching one side they decide to leave it a dig around it, but one man curious still wants to dig it out. It was now dark and no water has been found, without the water no one will be able to work any longer, but one man still out working is still trying to dig up the huge metal round rock. Giving up he shoots his anger towards the rock hitting it as hard as he could with the pic axe, as soon as he hit it the third time the rock began to move, freaking out the man began to run but was struck by a piece of limestone going through his abdomen killing him.The rock is now gone a afar where no one will reach it again. The next morning the townspeople awoke to find the body of the man and also the weapon, the limestone was small and rectangular in shape. Inspecting the body one man believes it was one of the townspeople that killed him, another man also agrees and begins to investigate. Rushing towards a small house outside of town the two men slam open the door and barge in, the man laying in his bed is grabbed and beaten, the man questions the men, the men answer by telling him that he is a murderer, puzzled the man tells them that he is not, but sure they take him out to the center of the town. Coming out of their homes the townspeople are surprised and also believe that he is the murderer. Five men and one woman look for anything they can burn, finding sticks and logs they begin to stack them into a bed, the bed now made is the final resting place for the accused murderer. Walking towards the bed the murderer begins to cry and shout out, but no one cares, once laying on the bed the man is bound by his hands by a small rope. Struggling on the bed another man lights a torch and throws it under the bed, catching on fire the wood slowly burns, the man now covered in flames is heard from far away yelling and crying with screams of pain. Smoke covers the town and the smell of burning flesh smothers the noses of the people around.Two hours later the bed is now completely burned down, all that is left is a small pile of ash and a burnt bones of the man. Digging a hole the townspeople push the ash in and bury him to be lost forever. With now fourteen people left in the town the mayor gives up, he waits in his small dirty house alone for any hope.Two days past and no signs until one man is seen digging in the dried up river, the mayor catching a glimpse of him steps outside to get a better view, stepping out side the mayor stands watching from
afar.Twenty minutes pass and the man begins to yell, the mayor hearing and seeing him rushes towards him as fast as possible. Getting closer the mayor can see a small pool of water beneath the mans feet, in joy the mayor calls the townspeople telling them to dig again. Only three people show up by the river telling the mayor that the others are to tired and need water to work, grabbing the shovels the people begin to dig, the mayor runs to his house and grabs buckets to fill. One hour has past and the mayor now has five buckets of water, preparing the fire to boil the water a small woman stands waiting for the fire to spark off, the fire finally catches and is burning furiously, grabbing the water she begins to boil one bucket at a time. People now begin to show up waiting for there chance to finally taste some liquid.
2024.05.19 21:30 Filipuntik WDC #400: The Great Set Showdown -- Ticket Results + Compiled Sets Checkup
= = = =
Voting for Phase 5 has concluded! Check the Tickets Scoreboard HERE to see both the public and judge voting results.
= = = =
Hello, patient designers of customhearthstone! Thank you for waiting this long on the results, let's wrap this up so that we can all engage in other comps and summer (winter) endeavors!
To address what everyone's been waiting for -- the last Secret Ticket was PYROBLAST. The 'questions' in the "Discussion & questions go here" comment was encoded with Pyroblast. The letters' positions in the alphabet were added together (and reduced by 26 if it overflows) to produce the code word 'gtwhvupgm'.
Now, for what's left of the comp: the judges choosing their favorite set of the 20 sets that submitted for each phase. All of these submissions are compiled in these slides. Please take a moment to see if your own submission is pasted properly (use the second slide which should link to it).
The raffle winners will be drawn soon, alongside the results post.
submitted by Filipuntik to customhearthstone [link] [comments]
Voting for Phase 5 has concluded! Check the Tickets Scoreboard HERE to see both the public and judge voting results.
= = = =
Hello, patient designers of customhearthstone! Thank you for waiting this long on the results, let's wrap this up so that we can all engage in other comps and summer (winter) endeavors!
To address what everyone's been waiting for -- the last Secret Ticket was PYROBLAST. The 'questions' in the "Discussion & questions go here" comment was encoded with Pyroblast. The letters' positions in the alphabet were added together (and reduced by 26 if it overflows) to produce the code word 'gtwhvupgm'.
Now, for what's left of the comp: the judges choosing their favorite set of the 20 sets that submitted for each phase. All of these submissions are compiled in these slides. Please take a moment to see if your own submission is pasted properly (use the second slide which should link to it).
The raffle winners will be drawn soon, alongside the results post.
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submitted by Next_Research_186 to Studentcorner [link] [comments]
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2024.05.19 21:21 Starrylake My ex texted me to apologise for how things ended and if they hurt me. Was this an appropriate response?
Context. We were friends, then FWB that become a relationship. They were my first everything. We decided to end the sex, then the relationship and just be friends. But they were honestly very cold and mean to me at the end. Not abusive, just unkind and selfish. They left the country thankfully.
They texted me recently, nine months since they've left, saying how they're sorry for how things ended and if they hurt or did anything inappropriate. This is what I responded. What do you think? Was it too harsh? Should I not have said this much?
Thanks for saying that. Yes, you hurt me deeply in a lot of ways with your words and actions. I wish I had noticed that more at the time so I could have avoided some of it. It's taken me several months to feel comfortable opening up to my friends like I used to. I didn't feel treated like a friend at the end. I trusted you a lot to share my firsts with you and it doesn't feel good anymore. I largely regret it. That relates to my past experiences, and our last couple of months. It's hard to feel comfortable with some of our mutual friends, because I know some of them know about our fight, but it's not something I discussed with them at the time or now because they are friends with both of us.
I've learnt a lot from this: what I am grateful for in my friendships and what I want in a relationship.
I believe it could have ended very differently. In a way that wouldn't have hurt us both as much. I appreciate your acknowledging that. I'm sorry for any hurt I caused. I'm glad you got something out of the time we were together. I hope you've found or are finding what you want and need and that you're happier now.
I will probably delete this later for privacy. But curious for objective perspectives pls. I know it's tricky since the whole context isn't there.
submitted by Starrylake to self [link] [comments]
They texted me recently, nine months since they've left, saying how they're sorry for how things ended and if they hurt or did anything inappropriate. This is what I responded. What do you think? Was it too harsh? Should I not have said this much?
Thanks for saying that. Yes, you hurt me deeply in a lot of ways with your words and actions. I wish I had noticed that more at the time so I could have avoided some of it. It's taken me several months to feel comfortable opening up to my friends like I used to. I didn't feel treated like a friend at the end. I trusted you a lot to share my firsts with you and it doesn't feel good anymore. I largely regret it. That relates to my past experiences, and our last couple of months. It's hard to feel comfortable with some of our mutual friends, because I know some of them know about our fight, but it's not something I discussed with them at the time or now because they are friends with both of us.
I've learnt a lot from this: what I am grateful for in my friendships and what I want in a relationship.
I believe it could have ended very differently. In a way that wouldn't have hurt us both as much. I appreciate your acknowledging that. I'm sorry for any hurt I caused. I'm glad you got something out of the time we were together. I hope you've found or are finding what you want and need and that you're happier now.
I will probably delete this later for privacy. But curious for objective perspectives pls. I know it's tricky since the whole context isn't there.
2024.05.19 21:18 Ready-Candidate-6371 Short Story Critiques wanted
I am basically brand new to creative writing, having not written anything since I was a teenager. I've recently felt a spark to start writing again. I'm hoping for some honest critiques so I can know what I have to improve on. Thank you!!
This is an excerpt from a short story. For some context, the MC is living in modern times, gets lost while driving home, her car dies and she ends up walking to look for help. She winds up here...
"Words escape me as I take in the woman in front of me. She is dressed in a floor length navy blue gown reminiscent of sometime in the 17th century. My eyes shift behind her… a fire is lit in a hearth. Next to a window on the far side are a table with two chairs. And seated in one of them is a man, who by this point is beginning to stand up and make his way to the door as well. The way their faces looked when they looked at me was similar to how I imagine my own face looked. Pure, undiluted confusion. I shake my head and tried to find words. “Who are you?” Demanded the man as he approached. “I… I’m lost.. I.. my car broke down a couple of miles down the road.. I just need a phone so I can call for help..I..” I spluttered. “Are you okay, miss?” The woman asked with concern in her face. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” Their gazes shift from confusion to concern to suspicion as they take in the sight of me. While they are dressed for a renaissance faire, I’m sporting a thigh length floral print dress with a denim jacket. “Who are you?” The man demands again. “My name is Millie… I work just down the road at the James River Elementary School… I’m just trying to get home. Do you have a phone I could use, please? I need to call for help.” “Phone?" He glances at his wife, motioning for her to move away from the doorway, "Miss, I haven’t a clue what you speak of…” Who on earth doesn’t know what a phone is? I can’t be so far out of town that I’m talking to people who are that out of touch. I begin to explain but think better of it. “Miss, please come with me..” He dons a long brown jacket over his off-white cotton shirt and steps out the door past me, motioning for me to follow. Something about following a strange man, wearing historical clothing, down a dark path through the woods feels very wrong at this moment, but I don’t see a way out of it. So I follow for several quiet minutes until we come upon another building, slightly larger than the house we just came from. This one also has a thatched roof, with smoke billowing out of a chimney. The man opens the door and holds it for me, motioning me forward. I go. “Good evening, constable…” He says to a man seated at a wooden table. He has a piece of old looking paper and a feather quill in front of him, along with an ancient looking mug. This is all beginning to feel like a fever dream. I’m almost too confused to feel the fear that continues to build inside me. “Who is this here, Thomas?” He says to the man, eyeing me with suspicion. “She just showed up at our doorstep. She’s been mutterin’ on about needin’ help… talkin’ all kinds of nonsense about something called a…” He turns to me and says “What did you say, miss…?” “My car broke down a few miles down the road… I walked here, I can’t find my phone, I just need some help getting home…” I say with urgency. “All I need is to make a phone call and I’ll be out of your way…” “That was it.. phone? See, speakin’ nonsense, sir. I figured it best to bring her here.” The man, Thomas, says. “I see.. I see.” The constable rubs his temples as if exasperated and stands up, the chair scraping against the wooden floor as he pushes it back. “I’ll take it from here, Thomas. I thank ya. You’ll best be on your way.” At that, Thomas turns on a heel and walks back out the door the way we came. The constable takes a firm hold of my upper arm and leads me to a barred cell. “What is this?” I demand, beginning to panic. “Miss, I will not take the chance of witchery here. It’s my job as constable to keep the citizens of Jamestown safe, and I intend to do so. You’ll stay here til the morning, when Justice Stoughton will see ya.” He had a thick accent, English I think. It was like a light bulb in my mind suddenly flashed bright. The lack of traffic, the buildings, the historical clothing and weird speech… the confusion when I told them I needed my phone. Either at some point from the time I left work until now, I traveled back in time to early Virginia… or I’m dreaming. I resolve that the only thing that makes sense is that I’m dreaming. And I’d like to wake up now. At some point in the night, I fall asleep. As I sit leaning against the cold wall of the cell, the adrenaline from the evening wears off a bit. I can’t help but feel utter exhaustion, which eventually gives way to sleep. Several hours later, I wake with a start, confused about where I am. My body aches from sleeping sitting up. I glance over to the window and notice that the dark is giving way to dawn and the birds are beginning to sing. I rub my eyes, hardly able to believe that this nightmare hasn’t ended yet. I hear footsteps approaching. The constable fumbles with a set of large keys as he searches for the one to my cell. Once he manages to unlock it, he sets a piece of bread and a metal mug on the floor near the door with a clunk. I didn’t realize until this moment that I am absolutely ravenous. A crusty piece of bread off the floor doesn’t sound appetizing but at this very moment I will take what I can get. I reach over to retrieve my fare. I quickly eat the bread and take a gulp from the mug."
submitted by Ready-Candidate-6371 to writingcritiques [link] [comments]
This is an excerpt from a short story. For some context, the MC is living in modern times, gets lost while driving home, her car dies and she ends up walking to look for help. She winds up here...
"Words escape me as I take in the woman in front of me. She is dressed in a floor length navy blue gown reminiscent of sometime in the 17th century. My eyes shift behind her… a fire is lit in a hearth. Next to a window on the far side are a table with two chairs. And seated in one of them is a man, who by this point is beginning to stand up and make his way to the door as well. The way their faces looked when they looked at me was similar to how I imagine my own face looked. Pure, undiluted confusion. I shake my head and tried to find words. “Who are you?” Demanded the man as he approached. “I… I’m lost.. I.. my car broke down a couple of miles down the road.. I just need a phone so I can call for help..I..” I spluttered. “Are you okay, miss?” The woman asked with concern in her face. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” Their gazes shift from confusion to concern to suspicion as they take in the sight of me. While they are dressed for a renaissance faire, I’m sporting a thigh length floral print dress with a denim jacket. “Who are you?” The man demands again. “My name is Millie… I work just down the road at the James River Elementary School… I’m just trying to get home. Do you have a phone I could use, please? I need to call for help.” “Phone?" He glances at his wife, motioning for her to move away from the doorway, "Miss, I haven’t a clue what you speak of…” Who on earth doesn’t know what a phone is? I can’t be so far out of town that I’m talking to people who are that out of touch. I begin to explain but think better of it. “Miss, please come with me..” He dons a long brown jacket over his off-white cotton shirt and steps out the door past me, motioning for me to follow. Something about following a strange man, wearing historical clothing, down a dark path through the woods feels very wrong at this moment, but I don’t see a way out of it. So I follow for several quiet minutes until we come upon another building, slightly larger than the house we just came from. This one also has a thatched roof, with smoke billowing out of a chimney. The man opens the door and holds it for me, motioning me forward. I go. “Good evening, constable…” He says to a man seated at a wooden table. He has a piece of old looking paper and a feather quill in front of him, along with an ancient looking mug. This is all beginning to feel like a fever dream. I’m almost too confused to feel the fear that continues to build inside me. “Who is this here, Thomas?” He says to the man, eyeing me with suspicion. “She just showed up at our doorstep. She’s been mutterin’ on about needin’ help… talkin’ all kinds of nonsense about something called a…” He turns to me and says “What did you say, miss…?” “My car broke down a few miles down the road… I walked here, I can’t find my phone, I just need some help getting home…” I say with urgency. “All I need is to make a phone call and I’ll be out of your way…” “That was it.. phone? See, speakin’ nonsense, sir. I figured it best to bring her here.” The man, Thomas, says. “I see.. I see.” The constable rubs his temples as if exasperated and stands up, the chair scraping against the wooden floor as he pushes it back. “I’ll take it from here, Thomas. I thank ya. You’ll best be on your way.” At that, Thomas turns on a heel and walks back out the door the way we came. The constable takes a firm hold of my upper arm and leads me to a barred cell. “What is this?” I demand, beginning to panic. “Miss, I will not take the chance of witchery here. It’s my job as constable to keep the citizens of Jamestown safe, and I intend to do so. You’ll stay here til the morning, when Justice Stoughton will see ya.” He had a thick accent, English I think. It was like a light bulb in my mind suddenly flashed bright. The lack of traffic, the buildings, the historical clothing and weird speech… the confusion when I told them I needed my phone. Either at some point from the time I left work until now, I traveled back in time to early Virginia… or I’m dreaming. I resolve that the only thing that makes sense is that I’m dreaming. And I’d like to wake up now. At some point in the night, I fall asleep. As I sit leaning against the cold wall of the cell, the adrenaline from the evening wears off a bit. I can’t help but feel utter exhaustion, which eventually gives way to sleep. Several hours later, I wake with a start, confused about where I am. My body aches from sleeping sitting up. I glance over to the window and notice that the dark is giving way to dawn and the birds are beginning to sing. I rub my eyes, hardly able to believe that this nightmare hasn’t ended yet. I hear footsteps approaching. The constable fumbles with a set of large keys as he searches for the one to my cell. Once he manages to unlock it, he sets a piece of bread and a metal mug on the floor near the door with a clunk. I didn’t realize until this moment that I am absolutely ravenous. A crusty piece of bread off the floor doesn’t sound appetizing but at this very moment I will take what I can get. I reach over to retrieve my fare. I quickly eat the bread and take a gulp from the mug."
2024.05.19 21:17 chinese_sweatshop Account Stuck in "Appeal Sent" since December
Hello, I have for the most part lost faith in me getting my account back. I had a personal account that did not break TOS and only had pictures of me with friends and family posted with no captions. I don't know why my account is disabled, it doesn't say why and I never even submitted an appeal so I don't know why it say's "appeal sent". I have no email history of any appeal email being sent. I have contacted my AG in Florida in which I received a copy and paste response, I have contacted Instagram data and recovery in which I recieved a copy paste a response (common theme is they always say the support is at instagram.com/help but there is no support lol) I have even contacted Meta Store Support (I own a quest 3 and am a paying consumer of meta) in which I did get to talk to a real person, only for them to always say they are spreading the word to their colleague and then to get a copy paste response telling me to go to instagram.com/help for support even though I repeat 10 times that there is no Instagram support. I literally begged and explained how my account being stuck in disabled as a young college student that just moved states is ruining my social life and ability to make connections with people as nobody is going to take a small Instagram account seriously. You would think for a company that want's everybody to shift to the Meta World and Online, that they would take stuff like this more seriously especially for a paying consumer, with the impact it could have on a person in a world centered around social media for people in my age group. I have tried buying Facebook ads to get meta support and can't even get the option to contact support despite purchased ads. Instagram won't even let me get Meta Verified through the instagram chat on my new account. I'm at a dead end and I don't know what to do, so I'm desperately trying to see if there is anyone that could seriously help me in this matter. It would seriously make the world to me and I would do anything, even pay, to get my Instagram account looked at.
submitted by chinese_sweatshop to Instagram [link] [comments]
2024.05.19 21:16 Expensive-Okra-1397 Please listen to those niche male attention subs
 | Omg okay so this is not a life pdate post reels I’ve been keeping up. I’m gonna save that for the middle of summer, but I’ve been using a little playlist I made for myself of attraction stuff. There is things for like your SP, siren aura, maneater, flirting and rizz(ik that word is cringe) crush attraction and over all male attention and then some like general beauty stuff that I have in there and one thing I can say is 100% have been turning heads😭 submitted by Expensive-Okra-1397 to Subliminal [link] [comments] I was walking around in my neighborhood running errands and his man was walking his daughter to school(because there’s a school on the path I was taking that day) and maybe about 20 feet away he kept staring at me IN MY EYES. This man literally broke his neck to turn around and look at me when I passed him💀💀 and then another five minutes later I was walking, and some guy was eyeing me down so hard making direct eye contact, and it was actually kind of awkward because I was tired and I just wanted to go home and I kept trying to look away, but he kept looking back at me, 🧍🏽♀️and this one broke his neck to look at me when I was walking away😭 I will say that I’ve also been making my own subliminals for beauty and I’ve been doing a lot of mirror work so I can basically be that bitch. I would say it is paying off pretty well, there was also time I mentioned a while ago that I went out with my best friend, and some guy was flirting with me the whole night, and we had all eyes on us and overall look WAYY prettier. like I know, I’ve made a lot of updates in the past about my appearance and stuff, but I genuinely think this is the prettiest I’ve ever looked in a long time and I’m just about as attractive as I was pre transition. I’m not gonna share any direct links because a lot of people have been reporting my favorite creators, but just any Male attraction subs from those channels with the aesthetic thumbnails and very vague titles🤞🏽 |
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submitted by Consistent-Sea-9966 to Studentcorner [link] [comments]
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2024.05.19 21:15 Technical-Use-3921 My take on Medicine 2.0 vs. 3.0 have mercy lol!
 | J/K I can take the abuse just let me have it... submitted by Technical-Use-3921 to PeterAttia [link] [comments] Medicine 2.0 vs. Medicine 3.0 “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” - Benjamin Franklin Peter Attia is a practicing MD and is one of the leading experts of longevity- which is ironic because he hates the word longevity. Attia has coined the terms Medicine 1.0, 2.0 and 3.0. Medicine 1.0 was the time when medicine did not use the scientific method and often would do more harm than good. Think bloodletting 40% of George Washington’s blood the day he died. Around the 17th century the scientific method started to be used, and according to Attia by the 19th century medicine 1.0 transitioned to medicine 2.0. With the utilization of antibiotics and vaccines alone we have saved and extended millions of lives utilizing this method. For the past 200 years we have been using the scientific method and have taken it as far as it can go. Medicine 2.0 needs the patient to first get sick in order to fit into an algorithm that identifies and reacts to the problem that is present. It is a system that incentivizes reactive medical treatment instead of eliminating the illness begore it ever occurs. In 2017-2018 Harvard study found that the half-life of medical information was 18 months. Translation, every 18-month period that passes eliminates/modifies what your doctor learned in medical school by 50%. Doctors need to be constantly researching to maintain the edge on medicine that they had when leaving medical school. Medicine 2.0 did an amazing job of getting us from point A to point B, but now is the time to transition us to point C. “We have reached the limits of medicine 2.0 capacity, and if longevity is something we are aspiring for, we need a new strategy.” —Peter Attia Medicine 3.0 accepts the tools and advancements made by 2.0 but has a focus on individualization, education, and optimization for longevity. To optimize health, it will need to be nuanced and specific to each patient’s biology. The role of the doctor being a cookie cutter one stop shop for everything health needs to change. A doctor does not need to be a patient’s psychologist, nutritionist, exercise physiologist, etc. Prevention needs to be the priority as medicine moves forward. In ‘Outlive’ Attia wrote about the mystic centurions that live long healthy lives in the “blue zones.” He stated that they [the centurions] live long not because they get sick and go to the doctor to mitigate their illnesses [medicine 2.0], but they simply are able to delay these common illnesses into their old age. Reinforcing that prevention is significantly more important than waiting until someone is sick to start interventions. This new shift puts the patient in the driver seat of their own health. A relationship with the doctor is created and built on trust. Education is important in this transition to optimization because the patient needs to understand and own their individualized plan. With the speed at which medical information is changing you need to be educated in best practices by the time of your next checkup. I am sick of seeing doctors that are obese, not staying on top of developments of modern medicine, and spending less than 15 minutes with their patients on visits. It took me four years to find a PCP that I can trust. I trust him because on my first visit he educated me about statins, and we were able to improve my bloodwork to not be at risk of cardiovascular disease [prevention.] The internet is a hotspot for misinformation, but if you have a doctor you can trust and have great resources you can read then together you can make an individualized medical plan that is nuanced and tailored to your needs. The excellent news is the bulk of prevention and education interventions are close to free of cost. The plan typically is not as sexy as we like to think it is. Attia’s five pillars of optimization of healthspan are exercise, sleep, nutrition, mental health, and supplementation. These are the pathways to prevention of chronic disease and a happier, stronger, and healthier life. P.S. Attia’s best 4 min. Video about health you will watch today... Okay maybe ever! subscribe here… BRIAN ANGUIZ MAY 13, 2024 |
2024.05.19 21:13 hahahahastayinalive AITAH bc i want less to do with my sister who constantly criticises everything about who I am?
my sister (19F) and I (17F) have NEVER gotten along for long. we've argued our whole lives and we are the complete opposite of each other. if it helps, shes an INFJ and im an INFP.
so we'd argued all day, literally since I woke up we've been arguing. so things were already tense.
we had to go to my grandparents for a birthday thing for lunch and I don't eat at the table (I never do, this isn't new and no one cares). but ofc my sister takes it upon herself to tell me it's disrespectful. maybe if I was at some formal dinner but these r my grandparents, I stay at their place for weeks at a time (mostly to get away from my sister). I tell her that no one cares and I just wanna watch TV while I eat.
so I put a movie on (I also asked her earlier if she wanted to watch any in there from my collection of blu rays but she said I only have boy movies, bc thats another thing, she criticises my favourite things but whatever). as I'm setting up the movie she comes in and says shes gonna eat in here. I told her I like to eat alone (especially since she's been pissing me off all day) and she's stubborn as hell so I decided to leave and just eat somewhere else.
which is ridiculous, she doesnt even want to watch a movie she just hates our grandpa and our dad so she doesnt want to sit with them (I have great relationships with them too, she hates the ENTIRE family except mum and nana).
but when I left, she gets pissy bc she handles emotions as well as a 6 year old so she narcs to mum (which she does ALL THE TIME). so I don't wanna start anything so I come back and just deal with it but then she just says despicable me. I'm like what? she says I wanna watch despicable me. yeah no matter I'd just spent 5 minutes skipping the ads on this movie and my food is getting cold) but WHATEVER. I go to get it and im changing going thru the motions again, all the ads.
also the movie I'd put on before was hotel Transylvania but she didn't wanna watch it bc its "sad". she calls every family movie sad. I csnt even say the word WALL-E or god forbid fhe lion king. I'm an insanely emotional person, but the difference between us is I like to express sadness and I cry a lot when she expresses all her emotions in anger. she says im depressed all the time and makes fun and asks if I "forgot my anti-depressants". I don't even take them, and if I did she'd mock me and say that that im a bad person for taking mental heath drugs.
so movies on, I can finally eat and for a while we actuslly get along and since it's a background movie rly she's not forcing me to rewind every 3 minutes. that's y I stopped watching movies with her, she made me rewind and it's take a afternoon to watch ONE movie. she also didn't want to watch anything with me when our parents were home as if she's embarrassed to watch stuff with me. which feels GREAT. I think it's bc she doesn't want dad to see her watch a "kids" movie like beethoven.
so we laughing, it's okay. well except the part when she says i need to eat like a "lady" and that i need to be "ladylike". do u know how much that makes me want to burp in her face?im considered relatively "unladylike" i guess. i swear a lot and i make a lot of dirty jokes. its part of my charm lol. she hates it tho. and my sarcasm, REALLY hates it.
i finish eating snd after a while I get a little bored so I start playing temple run 2 on my phone. she HATES me reading, or looking st my phone if she's with me, she gets rly angry but I'd figured since its just a background movie it's fine. she says to me, very blunt, get off her ur phone. and I have this thing where I hate being told what to do, if it's unreasonable or how they say it. so I don't get off my phone. she then opens her phone and starts watching yt shorts very loudly. I think she expects this to annoy me but news flash, I don't give a shit what she does bc I don't obsess over what other ppl do like she does.
still tho, I don't wanna listen to her preachy, anti-feminism, homophobic bullshit on full blast. thats another thing, I'm a huge supporter of the feminist movement and equality and lgbt rights when shes dead against it. she thinks mothers csnt have careers and being lgbt is wrong. she uses her religion as an excuse for it too. I'm a nihilist as well so every time I say jesus or oh my god she freaks out at me. idc what her religion is, I don't tell her what to do but she tells me I'm being disrespectful. oh I csn get real disrespectful real fast but I don't bc thats her opinion and this is mine.
some thing thats ironic is that im super for lgbt and women rights even more bc of her. I hate seeing how hateful she is towards these groups and minorities so it's made me support them even more. also fhe fact that she's called me a lesbian and intersex and a boy snd countless other things bc of my interests. I'm straight and an lgbt ally who loves marvel and star wars and video games and shee sees those as reasons to call me a lesbian? she also says I dress like one but she dresses like strawberry fucking shortcake if she had no style whatsoever. I wear movie referenced t shirts and hoodies and I like to think I have some sense of style but she says I dress like a boy bc of ONE Simpson skeleton on my shirt. she also says fhe complete opposite if I wear my hair in pigtails, that I dress like a little girl. which is it, sister dearest? am I a boy or a little girl?
anyway, as I was saying she starts watching stuff at full blast, I don't say anything I just put my headphones on. then she starts getting mad. oh she HATES my headphones, she thinks its the most disrespectful thing. I have a lot of anxiety when I leave the house so I have my headphones on all the time, music calms me and I listen to music every day and it's just something i do but she hates it. I dont see y it's different for me to wear my headphones if I'm not gonna talk to anyone anyway. she feels the same when I read around her. I love books, I read a lot and its yet AHOTHER thing she hates about me.
so she starts getting angrier and telling me to take my headphones off but by this point I'm done with the movie anyway and I wanna be alone so I get up to leave. I say I'm not dealing with this shit. she then puts her feet up on the pouffe (which I let her use bc theres only one and she was complaining) to block me. I tell her to move and she says to stay and watch the movie with her. now it's her words that I understand what she rly means. she wants me to sit and watch the movie with her for some reason. but no, I'm not dealing with her bullshit. she keeps blocking me and then she gets up and im just trying to get past without hurting her but shes not ceasing.
bc forcing someone to sit with u and bossing them around is the best way to bond with ur little sister ofc.
eventually I start shouting at her bc ik she'll start to panic if our grandpa will hear. (She's so fake in front of him too, all smiley and happy when inside she hates him. shes like that with every human in the planet besides me mum, dad and nana. she just openly hates me and dad. it's interesting to me how she hates everyone and makes fun of ppl online but yet she still worries about hurting their feelings more than anyone ik. she can be empathetic in that sense at least. it's hard for someone who sees the world in black and white tho, as she does. I just see fifty Shades of grey (hah).
but my shouting isn't working so I'm done and I shove her out the way and ofc that rly ticks her off. I don't understand what she expects me to do, but she gets rly angry when it happens. she shouts for mum ofc. I grab all my stuff so she csnt do anything to it (she breaks my lego regularly and changes the bookmarked pages in my books a lot and searches thru my phone and texts if I leave anything around her). im just heading to the backyard so I'm away from her, I thought about leaving the house entirely but we were gonna leave soon anyway (or i was told).
I walk past mum on my way out and she asks what's wrong snd I'm just too pissed off to rly explain anything so I just say my sister js crazy or something like that. I sit outside listening to music and avoid my sister rhe rest of the afternoon. I knew she'd be talking to my mum about what I did and spinning it so I was the hateful sister who doesnt want to watch a movie with her which yeah is technically true but how is it fair that she treats me like that still? am I supposed to just let her walk all over me?
my mum thinks that. she tells me to give in and just agree to anything and just do whatever my sister says. my mum is my sisters slave too. she'll do anything to keep the peace and just agrees to whatever my sister wants. the countless times she gets whatever take away she wants and im left with the leftovers in the fridge bc im the "easy child". Or at least I used to be, fron my mums perspective. just bc im chill and not insanely entitled and demanding like my sister.
so later in the night when we all at home I go to the kitchen and my mums in tjere and my dads rhere too, just eating. little did the man know what he'd be in the middle of in a few minutes.
my mum hasn't spoken to me about what went down at my grandparents, hasn't gotten my perspective but whatever. she asks me what was so wrong with watching a movie with my sister. I didn't even stop watching the movie bc of my sister, I just had it on while I ate my dinner and I told her as much. they always do this, say "with ur sister" when it's just something we just happened to both be doing. they make it sound like I'm deliberately being a dick to her bc im hateful. then my mum starts going off and saying shit like "u watch movies with ur friends and ur father, y csnt u watch them with her?" I didn't wanna say that I csnt watch movies with her bc it gets on my nerves bc my sister csn hear everyrthing in the house, we all constantly aware of that as if she's always listening, its creepy as hell but she's too nosy.
I say that I was done with the movie and she started bossing me around so I left. That's the truth bur my mum was like NO DONT GIVE ME THAT SHIT, U DONT WANT TO WATCH MOVIES WITH HER BUT U DO WITH UR FRIENDS AND UR FATHER. U NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH HER, HOW DO U THINK THAT MAKES HER FEEL? UR NOT UNDERSTANDING HER SIDE
ya know what's even dumber, they use my OWN FUCKING ARGUMENTS against me. I always say to consider the others persons side and to understand everyone's perspective. and she has fhe GALL to say I don't get her side? OFC I DO BUT SHES TOO FUCKING UNBEARABLE
and I never do anything with her or watch movies with her bc she hates mt favourite movies and shows and vice versa. my favourite movies deadpool and j spend mt days watching marvel, star wars, Disney, musicals, sci fi, action, romance, dramas when she watches REALITY TV AND HORRORS.
PROBABLY THE ONLY 2 GENRES I DONT WATCH. I watch SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS and she happens to watch the ones I HATE. how r we supposed to watch stuff together with all that, and her bloody rewinding and her criticisms? ITS IMPOSSIBLE.
we agree on very few movies and when we do she wants to watch them so much that she thrashes them. now I'm a person who's seen deadpool a million times and I rewatch everything, I've seen the office thousands of times but she still somehow manages to ruin things for me. she nearly ruined fawlty towers.
now on one hand, my sister has no friends and every one she's ever had has always betrayed or bullied her. thats true, mostly. ppl have been horrible to her forever, I understand she is damaged but she takes it out on me. and how can she ever make friends again if they ever make mistakes she never forgives them? I have a friend who ratted me out to the teacher on the first week I met her for swearing bur she's one if mt closest friends going on 5 years now. every friend I have has fucked up before obviously we human we mess up and learn. my sister won't accept any mistake outside of me or mum. my dad has suffered from that as has my aunt and my cousins. they messed up one too many times and instead of communicating with them, she ignored it so it continued and now she'll never forgive them. obviously that doesn't excuse their behavior but she has to forgive or else she'll be alone. this is the only reason y I still give her chances, bc I used to think maybe she'll learn and get better. but she still treats me worse than anyone I've ever known. but I dont want to give up on her like she's done.
when I move out (as fast as fucking possible) I'll still see her but just a lot less. She and I rly don't work well and she hates everyrthing and everyone important to me.
Still tho, perhaps I am the asshole here. Idk rly. I don't treat her perfectly either, I try tho. And I apologise and I mean it. When she apologises she just means she's sorry she's hurt me, not for what she djd. Bc she does it again and again and again.
submitted by hahahahastayinalive to AITAH [link] [comments]
so we'd argued all day, literally since I woke up we've been arguing. so things were already tense.
we had to go to my grandparents for a birthday thing for lunch and I don't eat at the table (I never do, this isn't new and no one cares). but ofc my sister takes it upon herself to tell me it's disrespectful. maybe if I was at some formal dinner but these r my grandparents, I stay at their place for weeks at a time (mostly to get away from my sister). I tell her that no one cares and I just wanna watch TV while I eat.
so I put a movie on (I also asked her earlier if she wanted to watch any in there from my collection of blu rays but she said I only have boy movies, bc thats another thing, she criticises my favourite things but whatever). as I'm setting up the movie she comes in and says shes gonna eat in here. I told her I like to eat alone (especially since she's been pissing me off all day) and she's stubborn as hell so I decided to leave and just eat somewhere else.
which is ridiculous, she doesnt even want to watch a movie she just hates our grandpa and our dad so she doesnt want to sit with them (I have great relationships with them too, she hates the ENTIRE family except mum and nana).
but when I left, she gets pissy bc she handles emotions as well as a 6 year old so she narcs to mum (which she does ALL THE TIME). so I don't wanna start anything so I come back and just deal with it but then she just says despicable me. I'm like what? she says I wanna watch despicable me. yeah no matter I'd just spent 5 minutes skipping the ads on this movie and my food is getting cold) but WHATEVER. I go to get it and im changing going thru the motions again, all the ads.
also the movie I'd put on before was hotel Transylvania but she didn't wanna watch it bc its "sad". she calls every family movie sad. I csnt even say the word WALL-E or god forbid fhe lion king. I'm an insanely emotional person, but the difference between us is I like to express sadness and I cry a lot when she expresses all her emotions in anger. she says im depressed all the time and makes fun and asks if I "forgot my anti-depressants". I don't even take them, and if I did she'd mock me and say that that im a bad person for taking mental heath drugs.
so movies on, I can finally eat and for a while we actuslly get along and since it's a background movie rly she's not forcing me to rewind every 3 minutes. that's y I stopped watching movies with her, she made me rewind and it's take a afternoon to watch ONE movie. she also didn't want to watch anything with me when our parents were home as if she's embarrassed to watch stuff with me. which feels GREAT. I think it's bc she doesn't want dad to see her watch a "kids" movie like beethoven.
so we laughing, it's okay. well except the part when she says i need to eat like a "lady" and that i need to be "ladylike". do u know how much that makes me want to burp in her face?im considered relatively "unladylike" i guess. i swear a lot and i make a lot of dirty jokes. its part of my charm lol. she hates it tho. and my sarcasm, REALLY hates it.
i finish eating snd after a while I get a little bored so I start playing temple run 2 on my phone. she HATES me reading, or looking st my phone if she's with me, she gets rly angry but I'd figured since its just a background movie it's fine. she says to me, very blunt, get off her ur phone. and I have this thing where I hate being told what to do, if it's unreasonable or how they say it. so I don't get off my phone. she then opens her phone and starts watching yt shorts very loudly. I think she expects this to annoy me but news flash, I don't give a shit what she does bc I don't obsess over what other ppl do like she does.
still tho, I don't wanna listen to her preachy, anti-feminism, homophobic bullshit on full blast. thats another thing, I'm a huge supporter of the feminist movement and equality and lgbt rights when shes dead against it. she thinks mothers csnt have careers and being lgbt is wrong. she uses her religion as an excuse for it too. I'm a nihilist as well so every time I say jesus or oh my god she freaks out at me. idc what her religion is, I don't tell her what to do but she tells me I'm being disrespectful. oh I csn get real disrespectful real fast but I don't bc thats her opinion and this is mine.
some thing thats ironic is that im super for lgbt and women rights even more bc of her. I hate seeing how hateful she is towards these groups and minorities so it's made me support them even more. also fhe fact that she's called me a lesbian and intersex and a boy snd countless other things bc of my interests. I'm straight and an lgbt ally who loves marvel and star wars and video games and shee sees those as reasons to call me a lesbian? she also says I dress like one but she dresses like strawberry fucking shortcake if she had no style whatsoever. I wear movie referenced t shirts and hoodies and I like to think I have some sense of style but she says I dress like a boy bc of ONE Simpson skeleton on my shirt. she also says fhe complete opposite if I wear my hair in pigtails, that I dress like a little girl. which is it, sister dearest? am I a boy or a little girl?
anyway, as I was saying she starts watching stuff at full blast, I don't say anything I just put my headphones on. then she starts getting mad. oh she HATES my headphones, she thinks its the most disrespectful thing. I have a lot of anxiety when I leave the house so I have my headphones on all the time, music calms me and I listen to music every day and it's just something i do but she hates it. I dont see y it's different for me to wear my headphones if I'm not gonna talk to anyone anyway. she feels the same when I read around her. I love books, I read a lot and its yet AHOTHER thing she hates about me.
so she starts getting angrier and telling me to take my headphones off but by this point I'm done with the movie anyway and I wanna be alone so I get up to leave. I say I'm not dealing with this shit. she then puts her feet up on the pouffe (which I let her use bc theres only one and she was complaining) to block me. I tell her to move and she says to stay and watch the movie with her. now it's her words that I understand what she rly means. she wants me to sit and watch the movie with her for some reason. but no, I'm not dealing with her bullshit. she keeps blocking me and then she gets up and im just trying to get past without hurting her but shes not ceasing.
bc forcing someone to sit with u and bossing them around is the best way to bond with ur little sister ofc.
eventually I start shouting at her bc ik she'll start to panic if our grandpa will hear. (She's so fake in front of him too, all smiley and happy when inside she hates him. shes like that with every human in the planet besides me mum, dad and nana. she just openly hates me and dad. it's interesting to me how she hates everyone and makes fun of ppl online but yet she still worries about hurting their feelings more than anyone ik. she can be empathetic in that sense at least. it's hard for someone who sees the world in black and white tho, as she does. I just see fifty Shades of grey (hah).
but my shouting isn't working so I'm done and I shove her out the way and ofc that rly ticks her off. I don't understand what she expects me to do, but she gets rly angry when it happens. she shouts for mum ofc. I grab all my stuff so she csnt do anything to it (she breaks my lego regularly and changes the bookmarked pages in my books a lot and searches thru my phone and texts if I leave anything around her). im just heading to the backyard so I'm away from her, I thought about leaving the house entirely but we were gonna leave soon anyway (or i was told).
I walk past mum on my way out and she asks what's wrong snd I'm just too pissed off to rly explain anything so I just say my sister js crazy or something like that. I sit outside listening to music and avoid my sister rhe rest of the afternoon. I knew she'd be talking to my mum about what I did and spinning it so I was the hateful sister who doesnt want to watch a movie with her which yeah is technically true but how is it fair that she treats me like that still? am I supposed to just let her walk all over me?
my mum thinks that. she tells me to give in and just agree to anything and just do whatever my sister says. my mum is my sisters slave too. she'll do anything to keep the peace and just agrees to whatever my sister wants. the countless times she gets whatever take away she wants and im left with the leftovers in the fridge bc im the "easy child". Or at least I used to be, fron my mums perspective. just bc im chill and not insanely entitled and demanding like my sister.
so later in the night when we all at home I go to the kitchen and my mums in tjere and my dads rhere too, just eating. little did the man know what he'd be in the middle of in a few minutes.
my mum hasn't spoken to me about what went down at my grandparents, hasn't gotten my perspective but whatever. she asks me what was so wrong with watching a movie with my sister. I didn't even stop watching the movie bc of my sister, I just had it on while I ate my dinner and I told her as much. they always do this, say "with ur sister" when it's just something we just happened to both be doing. they make it sound like I'm deliberately being a dick to her bc im hateful. then my mum starts going off and saying shit like "u watch movies with ur friends and ur father, y csnt u watch them with her?" I didn't wanna say that I csnt watch movies with her bc it gets on my nerves bc my sister csn hear everyrthing in the house, we all constantly aware of that as if she's always listening, its creepy as hell but she's too nosy.
I say that I was done with the movie and she started bossing me around so I left. That's the truth bur my mum was like NO DONT GIVE ME THAT SHIT, U DONT WANT TO WATCH MOVIES WITH HER BUT U DO WITH UR FRIENDS AND UR FATHER. U NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH HER, HOW DO U THINK THAT MAKES HER FEEL? UR NOT UNDERSTANDING HER SIDE
ya know what's even dumber, they use my OWN FUCKING ARGUMENTS against me. I always say to consider the others persons side and to understand everyone's perspective. and she has fhe GALL to say I don't get her side? OFC I DO BUT SHES TOO FUCKING UNBEARABLE
and I never do anything with her or watch movies with her bc she hates mt favourite movies and shows and vice versa. my favourite movies deadpool and j spend mt days watching marvel, star wars, Disney, musicals, sci fi, action, romance, dramas when she watches REALITY TV AND HORRORS.
PROBABLY THE ONLY 2 GENRES I DONT WATCH. I watch SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS and she happens to watch the ones I HATE. how r we supposed to watch stuff together with all that, and her bloody rewinding and her criticisms? ITS IMPOSSIBLE.
we agree on very few movies and when we do she wants to watch them so much that she thrashes them. now I'm a person who's seen deadpool a million times and I rewatch everything, I've seen the office thousands of times but she still somehow manages to ruin things for me. she nearly ruined fawlty towers.
now on one hand, my sister has no friends and every one she's ever had has always betrayed or bullied her. thats true, mostly. ppl have been horrible to her forever, I understand she is damaged but she takes it out on me. and how can she ever make friends again if they ever make mistakes she never forgives them? I have a friend who ratted me out to the teacher on the first week I met her for swearing bur she's one if mt closest friends going on 5 years now. every friend I have has fucked up before obviously we human we mess up and learn. my sister won't accept any mistake outside of me or mum. my dad has suffered from that as has my aunt and my cousins. they messed up one too many times and instead of communicating with them, she ignored it so it continued and now she'll never forgive them. obviously that doesn't excuse their behavior but she has to forgive or else she'll be alone. this is the only reason y I still give her chances, bc I used to think maybe she'll learn and get better. but she still treats me worse than anyone I've ever known. but I dont want to give up on her like she's done.
when I move out (as fast as fucking possible) I'll still see her but just a lot less. She and I rly don't work well and she hates everyrthing and everyone important to me.
Still tho, perhaps I am the asshole here. Idk rly. I don't treat her perfectly either, I try tho. And I apologise and I mean it. When she apologises she just means she's sorry she's hurt me, not for what she djd. Bc she does it again and again and again.
2024.05.19 21:12 Chai_Ky The Case of Kate Blackwell: The Unknown Part 1
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
submitted by Chai_Ky to u/Chai_Ky [link] [comments]
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
2024.05.19 21:10 Sea_Calligrapher6227 Husband says our wedding anniversary makes him depressed.
Today is our 12th wedding anniversary. I should preface that the past 2 years have been rough. My husband has depression and has a history of taking things out on me. However, things have been great the past 3 months. Felt back to normal. Fast forward to today…
He woke up frowning. He was withdrawn and sitting by himself outside. I asked him why - he ignored me. Our family hopped in the car and he looked miserable. I tried to playfully ask what was going on and he responded “the anniversary of being married to you makes me depressed.”
I got quiet. He acted like nothing happened. Kids were in the car so I didn’t push it. We went to lunch and continued acting cold towards me. He told our kids “I’m so lucky I have you two.” Ignored me. I asked again what was going on, what changed in the last day that he’s acting this way. He said that I was being annoying. I excused myself to the restroom and cried. One, because my feelings are hurt and two, I’m so unsettled that he’s going back into a depressive state.
When I returned, I was quiet. He called me an ice princess under his breath. I explained I didn’t want to fake happy and that his words hurt my feelings. He said something about not playing my narcissistic games and continued to have a meal like nothing happened.
So much for a happy anniversary. Friends and family are sending well wishes and it’s like pouring salt in the wound. How do I respond to this? There has been a cycle of him saying hurtful things and I think I’ve moved past it until he says things like this. I don’t know how to act. There’s only so much I can take.
submitted by Sea_Calligrapher6227 to depression_partners [link] [comments]
He woke up frowning. He was withdrawn and sitting by himself outside. I asked him why - he ignored me. Our family hopped in the car and he looked miserable. I tried to playfully ask what was going on and he responded “the anniversary of being married to you makes me depressed.”
I got quiet. He acted like nothing happened. Kids were in the car so I didn’t push it. We went to lunch and continued acting cold towards me. He told our kids “I’m so lucky I have you two.” Ignored me. I asked again what was going on, what changed in the last day that he’s acting this way. He said that I was being annoying. I excused myself to the restroom and cried. One, because my feelings are hurt and two, I’m so unsettled that he’s going back into a depressive state.
When I returned, I was quiet. He called me an ice princess under his breath. I explained I didn’t want to fake happy and that his words hurt my feelings. He said something about not playing my narcissistic games and continued to have a meal like nothing happened.
So much for a happy anniversary. Friends and family are sending well wishes and it’s like pouring salt in the wound. How do I respond to this? There has been a cycle of him saying hurtful things and I think I’ve moved past it until he says things like this. I don’t know how to act. There’s only so much I can take.
2024.05.19 21:08 MemoraNetwork Dead cat!? I don’t f*cking care!!
Sorry kinda long, but context 🤷
First time I've been first party in a real interaction vs being the observer. Wife and I keep to ourselves and try to avoid the public as much as we can for good reasons, we are respectable quiet neighbors and have lived here for 8+ years with zero problems, and have never had a negative issue with anyone… but this guy…
8 months ago, this very senior golden retriever was running around a ditch next to a busy highway, wife who is an ex-vet tech of 20 yrs, pulls over to help and realizes it's our neighbors dog per his id tag/collar, whom we've never had more than a hello and head nod from prior to this, she gets the dog wrangled and takes him back (over ½ miles from home) just to proceed to being yelled at about touching his dog and “she let him out the back fence on purpose” etc… it's crazy shit, but my wife did the right thing, said he's crazy and has moved on/forgotten. Dog saved, mission success.
I'm asleep and got this second hand until i was awakened…
Nice crisp morning this am, wife planting flowers in front garden bed, an approximately 6 months old cat gets ran over in the street basically right in front of her, on the opposite side of the street from our house. A small picket fence and sidewalk separated her from the street, she had a front row view and heard the “squish”-her tear soaked words. She's mortified and upset as any animal lover would be seeing that at 0730 in a rural quiet area, peacefully gardening with a morning coffee. She dawns some gloves and moves the cat off the street respectfully to the closest non sidewalk/road spot , as anyone living rurally understands clearing the roads from animals etc..., This side (opposite our side) has no sidewalk, but it's a gravel berm leading to said grumpy old man's unfenced front yard. She places the body basically on the berm, and there is a row of bushes, with the cat resting under the closest bush in the berm to the street, leaving the animal mostly visible but out of the way/road. Cat had a collar and tags so she knew it was a pet.
As a side note: She had her dog get ran over in front of her when she was 10 and is hyper paranoid still about our animals getting out. I respect it.
Cue Boomer…
As my wife is walking back up our longish driveway to wash her hands and go back to her flowers, she hears “FUCK YOU YA STUPID CUNT” and sees him hurl the body of the cat by the tail, at her into the street and flips her off. My wife doesn't really take shit, it's a reason I love her, she harnesses “rip the band aid right off” mentality. So she turns around, with tears in her eyes being a sensitive animal person and sees his obese bald ass flipping her the bird and laughing. She goes and grabs the cats body out of the street (again) and moves it to behind his back fence/alley and says “technically not your property, it's county’s responsibility now”. I was asleep and didn't see this interaction yet, but she said as she moved the cat he yelled all sleezy like “why don't you suck my dick bitch" So she said some basic shit talking back and stormed up the driveway
I wake up hearing our dogs flipping out cause “ALERT people amz yelling outsidez ALERT”. See her storming up the driveway, I haven't had a sip of coffee yet note you.
She tells me what happened. I look out and he's talking to his other sided neighbor, who witnessed the whole thing too pointing at our place, she's a boomer Karen too, who is 72 and they're friends.
As I hear that he asks my wife about the whole dick situation I'm seeing red and decide to go over there and confront the most "get off my lawn" asshole I've ever ran into.
I have my phone on audio recording in my pocket so I have backup/proof if anything goes amiss.
I'm halfway down my driveway, I hear "What's he gonna do punch me or shoot me or some dumbass shit", it needs to be noted I'm 6’9” ~250 lbs and in pretty fit shape with a decade of CQC and martial arts training so I am aware of power disparity in situations, I stay calm and quiet and get close enough not to yell, but say
Me: "why is your first instinct to think I'm here to instigate violence??"
Boomer: “ I didn't say tha-”
Me:”I'm not deaf I heard you say that, answer me, why do you think violence is an acceptable answer, you coward. Why do you presume I would come over and just assault someone, this shows me your mindset”
Boomer: “well your wife said-”
Me: “ let's talk about my wife, she said you asked her to come and suck your dick and called her a cunt and a bitch, you're lucky I'm not actually reacting... sir have you ever been married”
Boomer: chuckles "yeah actually a few times"
Me: chortles mean and loudly "yeah I bet, no surprises there. How would you have reacted to some old man who is more than double your age, asking your wife to suck his dick and calling her a cunt??”
Boomer: "well I'd be acting like you I suppose"
Me: "okay so you understand you fucked up then, YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO ANOTHER MANS WIFE LIKE THIS WITHOUT EXPECTING A HUSBAND TO SHOW UP AND SAY SOMETHING"...
Boomer: "SHE PURPOSELY PUT A DEAD CAT ON MY ROSES"
Me:" no she moved someone's dead pet from the street out of respect and trauma from witnessing a pet get ran over" * admitted dick move, Knowing he lost his goldy a few months ago I ask* "sir have you ever lost a pet?"
Boomer: reacts some nonverbally "yes I've had multiple pets die in my arms"
Me: "imagine your last pet getting ran over, and then ran over by another car and another and another, now that is how some kid is probably going to feel from that mobile home park over there, as that's their cat."
NOTE down the alley behind his fence there's a small mobile home park with some super sweet families and are great neighbors, my son goes to school with their kids, solid people I'm happy to call my neighbors...
Boomer: "I don't fucking care about those Mexican kids and it's a dead cat. Who fucking cares, keep IT OFF MY FUCKING ROSES!"
Me: "first off youre a fucking bigot to bring their ethnicity into this, that doesn't change a fucking thing old man, act your age and have some self respect. YOU think you're a man, be a man and act like one, heres the difference between men and boys, men, care about their community and I was raised properly to respect and be kind to my neighbors, it's obvious you don't care how anyone in the community sees you."
I quietly, firmly said, " you don't talk to my wife, she won't talk to you. You have any issues, you talk to me and best watch how you approach me. I have surveillance and will ensure this is handled correctly"
I saw loads of sweat rolling down the wrinkles of his face and looked into his jaundice laiden eyes. Decided to beat him at his own game, stuck out my hand and he instinctively shook it.
I vice gripped it and muttered, "and if you ever talk to me or my family like that again, I'll be going to jail..." And walked off.
I hear as I walk back up the driveway, the Karen friend say “he made good points about a lot of that Ed, probably the best resolution you could've hoped for"
Not really shocked or surprised this occurred, just disappointed
I copied and pasted most of the transcript here from the recording and watched the footage from the videos, it seems to have gone exactly like my wife said... /Facepalm end rant
Tldr: boomer berates my wife and then tells her to suck his dick, for her trying to get a dead pet out of the street, so I confronted him.
submitted by MemoraNetwork to BoomersBeingFools [link] [comments]
First time I've been first party in a real interaction vs being the observer. Wife and I keep to ourselves and try to avoid the public as much as we can for good reasons, we are respectable quiet neighbors and have lived here for 8+ years with zero problems, and have never had a negative issue with anyone… but this guy…
8 months ago, this very senior golden retriever was running around a ditch next to a busy highway, wife who is an ex-vet tech of 20 yrs, pulls over to help and realizes it's our neighbors dog per his id tag/collar, whom we've never had more than a hello and head nod from prior to this, she gets the dog wrangled and takes him back (over ½ miles from home) just to proceed to being yelled at about touching his dog and “she let him out the back fence on purpose” etc… it's crazy shit, but my wife did the right thing, said he's crazy and has moved on/forgotten. Dog saved, mission success.
I'm asleep and got this second hand until i was awakened…
Nice crisp morning this am, wife planting flowers in front garden bed, an approximately 6 months old cat gets ran over in the street basically right in front of her, on the opposite side of the street from our house. A small picket fence and sidewalk separated her from the street, she had a front row view and heard the “squish”-her tear soaked words. She's mortified and upset as any animal lover would be seeing that at 0730 in a rural quiet area, peacefully gardening with a morning coffee. She dawns some gloves and moves the cat off the street respectfully to the closest non sidewalk/road spot , as anyone living rurally understands clearing the roads from animals etc..., This side (opposite our side) has no sidewalk, but it's a gravel berm leading to said grumpy old man's unfenced front yard. She places the body basically on the berm, and there is a row of bushes, with the cat resting under the closest bush in the berm to the street, leaving the animal mostly visible but out of the way/road. Cat had a collar and tags so she knew it was a pet.
As a side note: She had her dog get ran over in front of her when she was 10 and is hyper paranoid still about our animals getting out. I respect it.
Cue Boomer…
As my wife is walking back up our longish driveway to wash her hands and go back to her flowers, she hears “FUCK YOU YA STUPID CUNT” and sees him hurl the body of the cat by the tail, at her into the street and flips her off. My wife doesn't really take shit, it's a reason I love her, she harnesses “rip the band aid right off” mentality. So she turns around, with tears in her eyes being a sensitive animal person and sees his obese bald ass flipping her the bird and laughing. She goes and grabs the cats body out of the street (again) and moves it to behind his back fence/alley and says “technically not your property, it's county’s responsibility now”. I was asleep and didn't see this interaction yet, but she said as she moved the cat he yelled all sleezy like “why don't you suck my dick bitch" So she said some basic shit talking back and stormed up the driveway
I wake up hearing our dogs flipping out cause “ALERT people amz yelling outsidez ALERT”. See her storming up the driveway, I haven't had a sip of coffee yet note you.
She tells me what happened. I look out and he's talking to his other sided neighbor, who witnessed the whole thing too pointing at our place, she's a boomer Karen too, who is 72 and they're friends.
As I hear that he asks my wife about the whole dick situation I'm seeing red and decide to go over there and confront the most "get off my lawn" asshole I've ever ran into.
I have my phone on audio recording in my pocket so I have backup/proof if anything goes amiss.
I'm halfway down my driveway, I hear "What's he gonna do punch me or shoot me or some dumbass shit", it needs to be noted I'm 6’9” ~250 lbs and in pretty fit shape with a decade of CQC and martial arts training so I am aware of power disparity in situations, I stay calm and quiet and get close enough not to yell, but say
Me: "why is your first instinct to think I'm here to instigate violence??"
Boomer: “ I didn't say tha-”
Me:”I'm not deaf I heard you say that, answer me, why do you think violence is an acceptable answer, you coward. Why do you presume I would come over and just assault someone, this shows me your mindset”
Boomer: “well your wife said-”
Me: “ let's talk about my wife, she said you asked her to come and suck your dick and called her a cunt and a bitch, you're lucky I'm not actually reacting... sir have you ever been married”
Boomer: chuckles "yeah actually a few times"
Me: chortles mean and loudly "yeah I bet, no surprises there. How would you have reacted to some old man who is more than double your age, asking your wife to suck his dick and calling her a cunt??”
Boomer: "well I'd be acting like you I suppose"
Me: "okay so you understand you fucked up then, YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO ANOTHER MANS WIFE LIKE THIS WITHOUT EXPECTING A HUSBAND TO SHOW UP AND SAY SOMETHING"...
Boomer: "SHE PURPOSELY PUT A DEAD CAT ON MY ROSES"
Me:" no she moved someone's dead pet from the street out of respect and trauma from witnessing a pet get ran over" * admitted dick move, Knowing he lost his goldy a few months ago I ask* "sir have you ever lost a pet?"
Boomer: reacts some nonverbally "yes I've had multiple pets die in my arms"
Me: "imagine your last pet getting ran over, and then ran over by another car and another and another, now that is how some kid is probably going to feel from that mobile home park over there, as that's their cat."
NOTE down the alley behind his fence there's a small mobile home park with some super sweet families and are great neighbors, my son goes to school with their kids, solid people I'm happy to call my neighbors...
Boomer: "I don't fucking care about those Mexican kids and it's a dead cat. Who fucking cares, keep IT OFF MY FUCKING ROSES!"
Me: "first off youre a fucking bigot to bring their ethnicity into this, that doesn't change a fucking thing old man, act your age and have some self respect. YOU think you're a man, be a man and act like one, heres the difference between men and boys, men, care about their community and I was raised properly to respect and be kind to my neighbors, it's obvious you don't care how anyone in the community sees you."
I quietly, firmly said, " you don't talk to my wife, she won't talk to you. You have any issues, you talk to me and best watch how you approach me. I have surveillance and will ensure this is handled correctly"
I saw loads of sweat rolling down the wrinkles of his face and looked into his jaundice laiden eyes. Decided to beat him at his own game, stuck out my hand and he instinctively shook it.
I vice gripped it and muttered, "and if you ever talk to me or my family like that again, I'll be going to jail..." And walked off.
I hear as I walk back up the driveway, the Karen friend say “he made good points about a lot of that Ed, probably the best resolution you could've hoped for"
Not really shocked or surprised this occurred, just disappointed
I copied and pasted most of the transcript here from the recording and watched the footage from the videos, it seems to have gone exactly like my wife said... /Facepalm end rant
Tldr: boomer berates my wife and then tells her to suck his dick, for her trying to get a dead pet out of the street, so I confronted him.