I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

I’ve always hated people. Not really people, but having to interact with them. You could call me anti-social, but honestly, it just bothers me how fake people are. Friends, family, relationships. People change at the drop of a dime, or maybe it's just them randomly deciding to show their true colors, either way, people will always find a way to tear you down and make you feel less than nothing. I guess getting stabbed in the back enough times made me want to keep to myself, unfortunately, in this society, it's hard to avoid people. You have to go to the grocery store, you have to speak to cashiers at the gas station, and unfortunately, you have to have a fucking job…
Every aspect of life demands you interact with someone, and I fucking hate it. That's why when COVID hit, and the country got locked down, it didn't bother me one bit. Not only did I not have to go to work, but the government paid me triple what I made, and sure, even though paying millions of people for years on end for no reason caused this ridiculous inflation we're experiencing now, at least I didn't have to interact with anyone, and even though astronomically more people died because of the lockdowns than died of covid due to it causing depression and desperation leading to suicide along other health conditions that couldn't be treated, I still consider it a plus. My only problem was figuring out what to do with my extra time.
At first, it was amazing. The first week I started and finished 3 shows on HULU I had been wanting to watch, but one thing about the lockdown that hit me hard was I couldn't even go joyride in my Mustang. I guess the cop saw me past too many times in one day and pulled me over. He said if I wasn't out to get essentials, I had to go home or Id be arrested which made no fucking sense. Eventually, I got tired of just watching TV and not being able to go out and enjoy the world. I'd never really been into video games, I mean, I had an X box but mainly to play a Friday the 13th game as I was a Jason Voorhese fanatic along with any other content that would be described as especially heinous, but I figure I might as well put the x box to use since I had so much time to kill. Upon searching through the games, I found the one that would give me everything the government took away.
If you're not familiar with GTA5, it's an open-world game where you basically do whatever you want. You design a character and can choose to do different types of missions to make money, or just drive around and interact with the world. The best part for me was it had a Mustang exactly like mine. I made my character look as much like me as I could, did some missions, made some money, and bought my car. I played the actual game for a while but I quickly found myself more fixated on the mechanics of the world. The people walking and driving around saying outrageous things.
I am by no means a computer or programming specialist which is why I guess it amazed me so much. How did it run how it did? I passed the time simply walking behind people, seeing where they went, driving behind cars, to see if they had a destination. I was amazed to see how these people interacted with each other. A pedestrian, crossing the road and getting hit by a car. An ambulance shows up and revives the person. A gang member shooting a gun causes motorists to drive erratically crashing into multiple other cars and causing mayhem. I concluded the game is probably a grid, like a railroad track these people were programmed to walk or drive on, but when forced to deviate from their programmed route was where it got really interesting, for example, one time a plane crashed causing multiple people to run frantically, and I chose one to follow. They ran and ran and decided to get off the road and head up a mountain. They topped the peak and proceeded to fall down the other side, repeating this over multiple ranges until I got tired of following. I've seen them decide to jump in the ocean and swim toward the horizon, and even randomly jump off a bridge. I understand how they can be programmed to follow a predetermined route, and even deviate to another route while staying on the grid, but some of them do things that kind of make me think they can make choices.
At the end of the day, I’m sure it's just my ignorance of programs and computer shit, but I did find it very entertaining to see what these people did. Eventually, I created my own games within the game, mainly a slasher game where I put on a mask and stalked people from the shadows. I’d wait until it was night, and I would carry a machete like Jason, and just follow people until I felt it was their time to die, and I would kill them. I’d walk through trees and backyards finding somone sitting on their porch or standing in their driveway smoking a cigarette, and I would sneak up and kill them. Sometimes I would just watch from the shadows. I wouldn't even be holding my controller, I'd just sit and watch the world exist because I wasn't allowed to watch my own… Or could I?
I loved walking around the areas that were just trees or hills, away from the city where the animals are, so I decided to go experience my own world again, against the wishes of the government. It’s not like anyone would see me at night, especially if I just walked around wooded areas. For some reason, I can't tell you why, but I wanted it to be as much like the fake world I had been living in as possible, so I even ordered a mask like the one I had been wearing. I put on clothes similar to my character and walked out my back door and into the woods behind my house. The cool breeze was refreshing and the sky was so clear the moon lit up the forest. I had no clue how deep it was but I knew it was deep enough to not worry about cops seeing me and forcing me to return to my prison. For hours I just walked around, admiring nature, all the while wearing a mask and gripping a machete. All of a sudden, through the trees I saw an illuminated floating window. It was too dark to see the house until I got to the wood line. I wondered what the people inside were doing. What they might be up to. I fought with myself in my head about going and finding out inevitably choosing to have a peek. What's the worst that could happen? There were no trespassing signs and the way the law works is you have to be told not to be there by the police before you can get in trouble. The thought of this person having a gun crossed my mind but not before my legs had started walking across the yard. At that point it was already too late, not to mention, I didn't really care. I wanted to see what they were up to.
Only one window was lit up and it was the perfect height for me to peek through. I crouched below it and slowly rose to look inside. It was absent of blinds but it had curtains that were slightly pulled apart, a kitchen window. A woman was doing dishes as her kids were sitting at the table finishing dinner. I wasn't sure if her husband was home, or if she even had one, but I was satisfied with what I saw and decided not to find out. My heart was still racing As I walked back through the woods. This was exhilarating, but as the adrenaline started to wear off, I started to realize I didn't know my way back. I wasn't worried. I happened to have the Google Earth app and knew it would help me find my way home but when I lifted my mask to look at my phone, I realized 2 things. 1, these woods were pretty big, but not that big. Maybe a square mile surrounded 15 houses along its border. 2, it was only 10 o'clock. I obviously didn't have to go to work the next day, so why not check out another house before I call it a night?
As I made my way to the east side of the woods I started to question if what I was doing was wrong. Sure, I could lose the machete, but in my defense, originally I just planned on walking around the woods. I couldn't kill someone. Not in REAL life. But what's the difference between this and simply looking out your window at your neighbor's house or staring at a jogger a little longer than normal? I was just getting a closer look. I decided to lose the machete in case I was seen and continued through the woods until I saw light dancing through the trees. The smoke smell in the air told me it was a fire up ahead and when I approached the woodline I could see a shadow moving back and forth. I crouched down low and parted the bushes to see a barrel with a blazing fire, and a man carrying a cage. I couldn't see what was inside but once I heard the meows I had an idea. He opened the cage pulled out a small cat, maybe a kitten, placed it in a burlap sack, and tossed it in the barrel. The meows turned to screams and it was so loud I had to cover my ears. I quickly turned and darted back into the woods.
I felt horrible, but what was I going to do? The cat was already in the fire so there was no saving it. The screams echoed through the woods for maybe 20 seconds, and then it was quiet. I had heard that sound before thinking it was just some cats fighting or something. How could someone be so fucked up? I mean, I know I can't say much, I’m watching people from the woods with a mask on, but I’m not burning cats alive. I couldn't get home fast enough. I crawled into bed and forced myself asleep so I didn't have to think about what I had just seen and thank God I didn't have any nightmares about it. The next day, I woke up instantly thinking about it but the shock of it had kinda worn off. I felt a little numb trying to understand how evil like that could exist, but I carried on with my day eventually forgetting about it altogether.
When the sun started to go down, I reentered the woods, this time with a route planned out. I’d check out 3 houses a night, all on different sides of the wooded patch in case I were seen I would be out of the general area, and also to learn my way around the woods so I didn't have to rely on Google to tell me where I was at. The first house was dark and the absence of cars in the drive led me to believe no one was home or maybe it was unoccupied. I didn’t approach the second house due to a man working in his garage. The car he was working on was nice and had him so preoccupied he didn't even notice me watching from the open door. I lingered for a bit and then headed off to my final house before calling it a night. I could hear the whipping sound before getting close to the house. My jaw dropped inside my mask when I looked through the window and saw where it was coming from. A man in a wheelchair, and an older woman wearing a face of pure anger, gripping the belt. He sat in his chair emotionless as the woman repeatedly hit him with the belt. He didn't even try to fight back, and honestly, I don’t even think he knew what was going on. The lifeless look on his face told me he was an empty vessel, a health condition the woman resented for whatever reason. I wanted nothing more than to bust in and stop her, but was it my place?
I wanted to take my mind off of what I was seeing, and the image of the woman and her kids came into my mind. I wondered what they were doing… Maybe something normal that would make ME feel normal again. I made my way to the yellow house hoping the wholesome view of a loving family would prevent any nightmares the scene would cause, but when I got close I could hear the yelling. She did have a husband, and they were arguing. Looking through the window, I could see her crying in the kitchen, the man towering over her with fury in his voice. The kids weren't there but it was 11 pm so I assumed they were asleep, unable to hear the anger filling the house. I didn't like how he talked to her, but again, what could I do?
For weeks, I watched the evil that dwelled in the houses surrounding the woods, walking through the dark trees with negative sounds echoing through my head. Images of people, hurting each other, or themselves. 15 houses, very few pleasant to watch, or anything that could be considered normal. Every Monday, a sound echoed through the forest. I felt it starting to change me, drive me crazy but at the same time, cause me to feel numb. So much pain in such a small area, the craziness inside every box with a door. How much more was in the rest of the world?! What even was normal? I made a decision. Sticky notes.
“Hurting yourself isn’t the answer”
“How would you like to be in a wheelchair?”
“You'll burn next if you don’t stop.”
Messages no one would report because they’d have to explain. I approached the yellow house to leave my last note. “Treat her better”, that’s all it said. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe if these people knew someone was watching they would change their ways. His car door would be the best place for this one. As I stuck it on the handle, I could hear the yelling. He was always yelling, and drunk. It was worse than usual because I could hear things being thrown and slammed. I peeked through the usual window just as he flipped the kitchen table and backed her against the wall. He raised his hand, bringing it down across her face. She hit the floor as he stood over her. He took another swig from his bottle before striking her again. Between every angry sentence, he would hit her. He was going to kill her!
Before I could even think I had kicked in the door. Before he could even turn, I had picked up a chair and swung it at his head. He hit the ground and the woman started to scream even louder. I looked down to see the blood pouring from his head. I dropped the chair and ran back into the woods, her screams fading the further I got.
I got home, hid the mask, and bit my nails to the nubs waiting for whatever evidence I left behind to lead the cops to me. Any trails I made over my weeks of walking through the woods, like breadcrumbs for the police, but they never came.
The next day, every news channel played the same story. "Man killed by a masked vigilante." The woman had told the story, exactly how it happened. How he was beating her mercilessly. How she feared for her life, and how a masked person had come in to save it. I wasn’t proud of what I had done. I had taken a man's life. What if he was only going to hit her one last time and be done? Did this man really deserve to die? It wasn’t my intention, and no amount of Reddit or social media posts praising the vigilante made me feel better about what I had done.
The truth is, I'm not a vigilante. I’m not Superman and I'm definitely not God, so who am I to change what I feel needs to be changed? To redirect a timeline that would otherwise never exist. If there is a God, who am I to change what he himself doesn’t deem worthy to alter? So from now on, I just watch… Or not... One thing’s for sure, the longer I do this, the easier it is to not look away.
SHORT FILM at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKzkNB9Df_Y

So first is a question, I personally think the game looks stunning but what is it with woke propaganda stuff and Angela? Have I missed something in the trailer? Like what did make people upset.
And second, if there is a mega thread or something, please let me know. I will move these thoughts there.
Anyway here are my few thoughts positive or negative.
My main source of doubts is my countries bloober team. Their games usually (for me) missed the mark, and they have a problem with subtle horror. The medium was a mixed bag for me. But I try to keep high hopes. My biggest scare is them “modernizing” dialogues. I am really afraid they will throw James throwing random bars out of nowhere. Imagine the first walk down the road with James constantly saying something like “Uh, what the hell was that”
I still hope there will be fixed cameras, they did it very well in the medium. At least option?
I have seen some complaints about character models, well this is trailer, but mostly they are amazing. Tho don't have a clue what is this, but Angelas body movement feels a but stiff, like it is ps2 game (lol). I guess it makes this uncanny, which might have been intended. other than that, game looks very good to me. Another animation, I want to look better is James hitting downed enemies, personally it lacks power for me, and looks just weird. I like the normal fighting animation, they look like he just tries to hit as hard as he can, and he lacks technique. I wish the Down hit animation had that power, but it comes off as goofy. But yeah other than that, James behaves like amateur, which is perfect
I also do believe, Maria should be dressed more sexy, this ain’t my fantasy, damn I am not even into this, but it is James fantasy. But maybe this is an indication that they will go more for subtle horror? Also I believe this would be an amazing idea, to have Maria act more, flirty (not like blatant that’d be weird, in original she is perfectly written) when we go more for a “you better do sth about that cough” ending, and when we go for “in the water” ending SPOILER AHEAD DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NEW Maria would act more distant, and become a bit more angry/insane, since well, she is put into silent hill and she is basically made to attract James. Her story is incredibly sad, and I hope it gets flashed out, without DLC (Konami I know you want to do this)
Edit: on the rewatch, I don’t think it is as bad, as people make it, or as I thought, for that matter. She has a short dress, and still looks more “seductive” with like cool colored hair and stuff. She still looks like hotter Mary, which is the point. And good subtle acting Can definitely make it good.
Other than these few concerns, which, are either things I’d prefer, and I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t implement them, I loved the trailers, as of right now, they didn’t seem to miss completely the mark. I just hope they don’t change the story too much, or make it much less subtle.

My wife (26F) and I (27M) just finished a week-and-a-half trip to Turkey and wanted to share our thoughts for anyone considering a similar trip.
We went to Cappadocia first and stayed in Göreme at Carus Cappadocia. Definitely a bit of a splurge of a hotel for us, but it was 100% worth it. The breakfast was outstanding, there were lots of spots to sit down outside (including the rooftop) and take in the natural beauty, and the shower was so luxurious. We stayed for three nights, so we had three mornings to have a shot at the hot air balloon ride. The first two days, the rides got cancelled due to high winds. The authorities are pretty strict about wind speeds and will cancel if it's not safe. We were fortunately able to do it our last day, and it was easily the highlight of the trip. The views were stunning and there was something magical about being 1,000 meters in the air with a bunch of other hot air balloons. We chose Turquaz Balloons and highly recommend them. And yes, both Göreme and the hot air balloon ride are built for tourists. We were surrounded by other tourists during our time here, but it was not at all "touristy" in an unpleasant way. The area is both beautiful and has really interesting history. For a "tourist town," we really enjoyed it.
We were debating between two or three nights in Cappadocia, and in hindsight are so glad we did three. We met some others who only stayed for two nights and missed the hot air balloon ride, which apparently isn't that uncommon.
We did two hikes the other days, in addition to the Göreme Open Air Museum. The museum was fascinating, and the Dark Church was completely worth the extra 6 euros per person as we loved the Byzantine art. The hikes were phenomenal and also quite distinct given the close proximity. We hiked from Göreme to Love Valley for one, and did the Open Air Museum back to Göreme for the other one, going through Meskendir Valley, Red Valley, and Rose Valley. We did have to re-route when we encountered a barking/growling dog in another valley by the Göreme Open Air Museum (not any of those mentioned above). Wife wanted to continue on, but I'm a little more risk-averse and we enjoyed the alternate valleys above.
The calls to prayer were a bit of a culture shock. We had to get used to them going off at 4am, but we were able to fall back asleep. Additionally, we ate at a few restaurants where we took our shoes off, sat cross-legged on cushions at a low table, and listened to music totally foreign to us. We liked the different cultural experience, but can see how it can be a major culture shock for some people.
We spent five nights in Istanbul. We stayed at the Doruk Palas hotel, about a 5-minute walk from Galata Tower. The hospitality we received from the folks there was simply unparalleled with anywhere else we've stayed. They took a genuine interest in ensuring their guests had an enjoyable time in the city. The location was also great. We could walk to many destinations (and accrued >20k steps/day) but taking transit was also super easy. We also saved some money by being willing to walk 5-10 minutes from Galata ToweIstiklal Street. The Galata Tower area definitely has its share of tourists, but doesn't feel touristy in the same way that parts of Sultanahmet/Old City do. We packed quite a bit into our five days, but these were our favorite experiences:

• Topkapi Palace. We didn't love the high entrance fee ($46/person equivalent in May 2024), but it was so worth it. The Ottoman art and architecture was stunning, and it was so fun learning about how the sultans lived and how the palace operated. It offered a lot of Ottoman history that the beautiful mosques alone don't provide. The audio guide wasn't great -- we ended up just reading the descriptions they had in each area. We'd consider using a guide if we were to go back.
• Hagia Sophia: We did this with an Airbnb guide and are glad we did, as he explained a lot of the history of what we were looking at. The tour also included the Blue Mosque, Basilica Cistern, and Grant Bazaar, but the Hagia Sophia was far and away the highlight.
• Kuzguncuk neighborhood: Charming neighborhood with great cafes and great views, if you're willing to walk up massive hills. We actually enjoyed this neighborhood more than Balat but loved both. We also had a lovely picnic at a waterside park on our way back to the Uskudar ferry.
• Istiklal Street: We loved going for evening strolls along Istiklal Street, people-watching, and browsing the shops.
• Bosphorus cruise: Great views of the European and Asian sides of the city.

The food in Istanbul was absolutely fantastic. It almost seemed like when we didn't have a 10/10 meal, it felt like something was wrong. A few standout restaurants:
Dinner: Pera Antakya and Zeytuna Cezayir'de
Lunch: Falfool Vegan House (best falafel we've ever had), Çeşni (if you're in Üsküdar and looking for a low-key local, family-run place), and Kebapci Kadir (another very local, low-key place where the owners spoke no English but the food was excellent)
Dessert: Asmali Bakery (we went here every night for baklava and cake, but they also had the best simit of anywhere we tried) and Vanilin Chocolate (in Kuzguncuk)
We didn't have any meals in Sultanahmet since we'd read it was overpriced and less local. Also, one thing we've learned is that Google reviews only correlate with our enjoyment of restaurants to a certain point. We went to a coffee shop with 4.9 stars on Google and had a meh experience, but went to a lunch spot with 4.1 stars and loved it. Our favorite dishes (and I know all of these are not exactly Turkish) were simit, baklava, kebab, the endless bread, dondurma (Turkish ice cream), mezze plates/hummus, and dürüm (wraps). Oh, and the breakfast! It was so refreshing to not have a bunch of sweet/dessert foods first thing in the morning. It was very heavy on mezzes and dips, roasted vegetables, eggs/egg-based dishes, meats and cheeses, and breads, which I loved.
I learned some basic words, phrases and numbers in Turkish before coming and am glad I did. It wasn't 100% necessary, but restaurant employees appreciated it. At a few places, the employees/owners knew almost no English, so knowing numbers really helped, but we also relied on Google Translate too.
We only had one significant regret: we had a few hours to kill before a Bosphorus boat ride, so we decided to get drinks on the rooftop of Barnathan Istanbul. We waited 20 minutes to get two meh cocktails and paid $37. I get that we were paying for the view, but we got basically the same view at Galata Tower itself (if not better, since it's 360 degrees) plus the exhibits. This was definitely a touristy experience in the negative sense.
We were satisfied with the prices. In US dollars, each ride on public transit is about 50 cents/person. Meals varied from about $6 to $13/person, with our nicest meal being maybe $15-$20/person. We got simit from the street salesmen for 10 lira, or about 30 cents. We didn't love the entrance fees to the museums, but for what they provide, we thought it was worth it.
Never had any issues with scams/pickpocketing. Not only that, we never even felt close to being in danger or thought we might need to pick our guard up.
A note on the Istanbul airport: it's new and modern, but very large and far away from the city. It seemed like it was unnecessarily large, too. We felt very small walking through it, and it took forever to taxi on the runway (both coming and going). Also, we were very turned off by the prices at restaurants. I get that prices are always higher in airports, but paying 6 euros for an espresso shot and 8 euros for a latte is absurd. We chose not to buy anything.
Happy to answer any questions for those considering a trip or have one coming up! Overall, we absolutely loved both Cappadocia and Istanbul. We were looking for a different experience from western Europe (which is the only part of Europe we'd been to previously) and we got just what we were looking for.

I took a week off of work and college had started their two-week break before the next semester. I took my chance and cleared my calendar and booked a trip to the town where my grandfather stayed while he was a journalist. The greyhound ride was a good time for me to figure out my approach, while the busy cityscape outside my window slowly faded into Southern African wilderness, nothing but trees and empty kilometers of road before I reached my stop, a homely town that seemed well connected to the rest despite the distance. It had been many years since my grandfather had set foot in this town, yet I could feel his influence. The roads were now cracked and showed their wear, shops and residences had been renovated and upgraded, looking more modern and slightly out of place.
The hotel my grandfather stayed at while on the investigation was now a more comfortable looking lodge, with a view over the rolling foothills of the Drakensberg and the surrounding cities, one of which I could see my home, vaguely. The sun had begun to set and I still needed to get my information from the residents. I unpacked my things after booking my room and set out, like a tourist with a pen and notebook in hand asking anyone what they may know. To no one’s surprise, they mostly looked at me like I was insane or a knock off Leon Schuster trying to get them to react in a funny way. I had almost given up completely until I sat near one of the social areas where they would light a fire and residents at the lodge would sit and relax while watching the sun go down. I was alone there and just sat drawing the distant landscape dreading the silence for the next week while I waited for the next bus to arrive and I’d return home. Two days passed in mainly silence.
That was until a man sat near me, dressed in weathered jeans and an old top with work boots covered in dust and dirt, his face obscured by a large hat covering his face, his hands in his pockets even as he sat but his arms almost looked skeleton like, his long white hair flowing from either side of his hat.
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling like he was trying to get my attention.
“No, but I can help you. You cause quite a lot of noise, trying to get the people to talk about something that scares them.” He said, his voice didn’t come across as harsh, more like cautious. The first person who decided to talk to me in a casual manner since a couple days ago. He wanted to tell me what I wanted to know.
Without any hesitation I turned to the page I set aside for notes when the man chuckled.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“You’re going to need more pages than that.” He said, flicking his hat up slightly while he sat back and got comfortable.
“Trust me, this is all I need.” I said feeling like I had to tiptoe around the subject as to not let the opportunity slip, but I also felt overwhelmingly anxious, almost like someone else was watching us. I felt my gaze shift every so often over my shoulder trying to find the entity that was staring a hole through me, apart from a quiet street crossing and some pedestrians; nothing.
“Something there?” Asked the man, as I shook off the feeling. I started getting a bit annoyed by the short answers and questions.
“Just feel like-, never mind. If you’re ready to help give me some information, what should I call you?” I asked as the man took a moment.
“Call me ‘Farmhand’. Since it’ll sound better than my real name, you’ll find that out in time.” Said Farmhand as I wrote that down in my notebook and began phrasing the question in my mind as to get the proper answer. Furiously tapping my pen on the page.
“Just ask, I already know what you want to know.” He said, I looked up from the page, slightly irritated by the confidence.
“How can you be so sure, Farmhand?” I blurted.
“You aren’t the first person to go on this goose chase. The Lady in White is very particular in her targets.” Farmhand explained, I wrote down everything.
“What’s her story, like the true story; why does she haunt this stretch of road?” I asked. Farmhand chuckled.
“She doesn’t haunt, she’s simply looking for a lift.” He said in the distinct Afrikaans twang that so many white South Africans have, it’s by no means ominous, more of a conversation encouragement than anything else.
“A lift? To where?” I asked. I heard so many different types of tales, from her being hostile to men, a companion to young women and a bit of both to younger males. But the main part that stayed the same was that they were alone.
“Her matric dance, my seun.” Farmhand said, the only other person to call me ‘Seun’ was my dad, the Afrikaans for son.
“What exactly happened?” I asked, pen at the ready.
“The legend goes far back, but the main story that my pa always told me was that she was with her boyfriend in the car, they went along this road and broke down; one of the worst places to break down since around eight is when the busses shut down and the last train has departed from the station. She chose to try down the street, bearing in mind how dangerous that is these days, it was a little bit less so then.” Farmhand said as he took off his hat, keeping his gaze at the setting sun.
“How much less dangerous?” I asked.
“Snakes, though the venomous Boomslang doesn’t go out of its way to kill you, no Black Mamba’s live up here. No, we have jackals and caracals, they hunt in packs and pick you off in the dead of night.” Farmhand explained.
“Is that how it happened, how she died?” Farmhand chuckled lightly.
“Nope, she saw a car in the distance and flagged them down, asked them to help take her to town or help her boyfriend. The man took her up the road and when they started to approach where she had broken down, the boyfriend tried flagging them down. Her joy turned to terror as the stranger sped up and before the boyfriend knew it, the car had hit him. The last she saw of him was him tumbling down the hill among the trees.” Farmhand said. Placing his hat on his chest, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a short silence, I asked:
“What happened next?”
“Well, the girl was hysterical, the car was still speeding up and she yelled at the man to stop, and kept pleading for him to let her go. Eventually the man had stopped, the girl got out and started calling to the boyfriend to see if he had somehow survived, as she did, the stranger hit her on the back of her head and had his way with her.” Farmhand said, provoking a sour taste in my mouth, a sheer sense of guilt welled up in my stomach.
“Now I understand why no one was willing to tell me the story.” I said, slightly defeated. The man put a hand on my knee like my grandfather used to and looked me in the eye. For the first time I noticed his wrinkled but kind face, he smiled.
“It’s not a story everyone can stomach. Come, let’s finish this so you can write your story.” Farmhand said as he sat back on the couch, a thought struck me; was I so obvious that he knew I was a journalist writing a story? Because I don’t remember ever disclosing the fact I was a journalist. Regardless, we continued.
“After the stranger- did the act, what happened?” I asked uneasily, feeling sick to my stomach.
“He put her in his car, and drove back to the spot where they broke down, but a half a kilometer away she woke up and he pushed her out of the car at high speed. She should’ve died there, but she crawled, half her body scratched, scraped and broken. She died slowly and alone. Before she died she heard her boyfriend calling for her.” Farmhand continued.
“Did he ever find her?”
There was silence, even the birds had stopped chirping and the street had gone quiet.
“No, I don’t believe he did. Whether or not he died looking is another story, but that’s not what you’re here for.” The Farmer said as he stood up, placed his hat on his head and began to walk off, before he passed me, he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.
“Promise me one thing; be careful. Can you do that for me, Alex?” Farmhand said before he patted me on the shoulder and walked off without waiting for my answer. I turned to confront him but he was gone, it couldn’t have been more than a second, but it was like he vanished into thin air. I was left confused and bewildered. The notes were real, the pen marks solid and clear. The events I was informed of felt vivid, yet the silence that fell around me felt otherworldly. I was feeling lost and exhausted before, now I was more awake than I had ever been.
Around eight that night, the sun had set and the mountain had cast a chilling shadow over the down I stayed, sleet had been reported near us and snow on the mountain. If I was going to get the answer I so desperately wanted, I was going to have to earn it. I walked to my car, steam cascading from my nostrils as the cold air turned frigid with even the slightest of breezes. I got in my car and drove to the first rest point along the mountain to gather some supplies: Some water and snacks, a couple of pre-charged battery packs for my recorder as I don’t want to stop every fifteen to twenty minutes to write down my experience. This would also prove if I was going insane or not, when asked by a couple of the staff at the store, I told them my intentions and they sounded interested for the first time. When I left I tested the packs and sure enough; fully charged and my recorder was clean and ready to be used.
I approached the entrance to the mountain pass that had been the setting for this ghost story that has latched on to me since childhood. No street lamps, no signs, yet the road itself was painted brightly and every so often a glowing marker was placed to ensure you knew when to turn and when to slow down. The threshold felt like a portal, the point where light didn’t reach and would not pass, even down to the road, where it was light, it looked traveled on, occupied and used; the mountain pass looked pristine; almost as if it hadn’t been touched for decades. As I looked beyond the pass, far below what was called the foothills of the Drakensberg, a large highway was built, the lights from the cars, the lamps and signs glowed for kilometers in the distance. After delaying for twenty minutes, I turned my car on, flicked on the high-beams and began my journey.
Every few minutes I would check my recorder, to make sure it was on and still functioning, it lay on the passenger seat in plain view, I could see some bright lights giving me the information if the screen was somehow obscured. It was a long while before anything happened. Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was anxiety, whatever it was wouldn’t stop me from exploring this legend. Worst thing that could happen is I travel sixty kilometers and nothing happens and it turns out my grandfather was just trying to scare me. I turned again after a lengthy passage of time and I got my answer.
I don’t remember stopping, I don’t even think I saw anyone on the side of the road, maybe it was while I was looking at my recorder, but I felt a cold presence behind me.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Asked a voice, a quiet but feminine voice. A chill erupted throughout my body; a violent sense of panic coursed through my mind because I knew where the sound came from. It came from behind me. My hands began to shake but I dared not take my hands away from the wheel.
“Do you?” It asked again. The answer got caught in my throat, I found myself unable to speak.
“No, not really.” I managed though my voice felt hoarse.
“You seem to know what you want.” The voice said again, it sounded curious. I stayed silent, the road twisted and wound around the mountain in a chaotic and frantic fashion.
“Are you scared?” She asked again, the voice coming from next to me. I turned to look but a cold hand kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Keep your eyes on the road, enough people have died here.” She said, as my nerves calmed slightly.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes focused and the world around me much less than an echo.
“Why do you want to know?” She asked, sounding more like she was in a void, her voice had more of an echo than anything else.
“I want to know what happened here. The true story.” I said after taking a breath and gathering my nerves, the road seemed to calm down, from sharp uphill turns to moonlight sweeping curves that allowed my gaze to rest as the shadow of the trees passed us by.
“Can I trust you?” She asked, the question rang through my head as I remember what Farmhand said, how she trusted a stranger who took advantage of her.
“Yes. Yes you can.” I said after a while. The figure turned to me; I could feel her eyes scrutinize every inch of me.
“You’re not like him?” Her questions kept hammering into me, I felt a mix of fear and guilt, knowing who she was referring to.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” I said after a while, gathering a fragile sense of courage as my hands shook furiously. The road seemed to twist and turn, harsh rising hills. Sharp corners told the tale of her many victims as my headlights passed by, the scrapes and dents of hard hits leading to a drop that seemed to have no end, not a single tree could be seen and the moonlight from high above could not pierce the dark veil that lingered joust over the edge of the road. After a while, she spoke again.
“Alright, I trust you.” She said as I allowed my eyes to wander, the figure relaxed in the passenger seat for a while, my recorder on the center console as I saw her blue skin, almost emitting a frozen chill as I saw her dress, torn and tattered, my stomach felt uneasy when I saw bruising and swelling near her inner thighs. Her hands crossed in her lap as I saw the scratches and what looked like deep cuts on her arms and exposed shoulders from the straps on her dress. I could not see much of her face as it seemed her face was bleeding.
“What happened that night?” I asked, concentrating on the road again. My passenger stayed quiet for a while, quietly shuddering and sniffing before she spoke again.
“I was happy, a man I loved decided I would be his date for the matric dance. We’d known each other since we were children. My best friend. We were driving along this road to get to the lodge, where the dance was being held.” Her voice sounded sourly-joyful, her hands didn’t move from her lap much, so as to not distract me with her hand movements.
“It was a while before town, the car started shaking. I thought the tire had blown, but smoke came from the front. We stopped nearby.” She pointed and I could see the flashing of hazard lights and the smell of smoke invaded my nostrils.
“I thought I’d get some help, he said he’d be fine and that I should hurry back. I walked for a while; it was a cold night still. I walked for, I don’t know how long. But I managed to get an old man to stop. He said he’d help; we just need to get my man and he’d sort out the car.” She said as the road began to crack and fall apart at the edge.
“Do you know what he did?” She asked me, I assumed it was a test to see if I was listening.
“He deceived you.” I answered. She nodded, looking down for a short while before continuing.
“He asked why I was alone on this road. I told him I wasn’t, that I was on my way to town with my man, and I told him about who he was, what he meant to me. I was overjoyed when I saw him, my joy turned to confusion, to horror as he sped up and ran him over. I saw his body roll into the trees, I thought for sure he was dead.” She pointed to the part of the road that had a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, marking where her man was hit and last seen by her.
“After I witnessed my childhood innocence be ripped from me, he finally stopped, that butcher! I blacked out with a sharp pain, when next I woke, I couldn't feel my legs and my fingers were numb. Just before I said anything, he pushed me out of his car. I remember falling, the road was like ice, all I could do was crawl.” She said, her anger translating to the road shifting and breaking apart, turning violently uphill only for the sheer drops and sharp turns that threatened to throw me off the edge. I barely managed to keep the car on the road as the road shifted again, it was so silent that I could hear the tires screeching like a distant wail.
“I’ve searched for years, if he’d ever return, I’d make sure he never left like he left me.” She said as the note my grandfather left in his books, the man who was panicked and sketchy, had his autopsy reveal that he was of the elderly group. I felt a slight pang of guilt as I realized that the man who did this to her was probably dead for a while. I weathered her storm of rage as the stretch of road became calm, as did she.
“I’m sorry you suffered like that; I wish there was something I could do.” I said unconsciously. I felt her gaze soften to me; her rage calmed as she went back to her neutral position.
“He was called ‘Farmhand. Because he was trustworthy, kind and reliable..” My eyes widened as the realization crashed on my face: He lived.
“If you aren’t like how he was, then you don’t deserve to leave this road.” Her voice was harsh, the road began to fall apart, the cracks forming as parts fell away like they had been falling apart for years, though my body was fatigued, I kept the car on the road. As uncomfortable as the ride was, the road soon turned into dirt paths, completely unlit and unpredictable. It felt like hours before it returned to normal, albeit slowly, my hands still shook relentlessly. I understood her outrage. I couldn’t imagine the trauma she experienced, the sadness.
“If you would like, I can take you back to town.” I asked. In retrospect, that was a stupid question.
“I don’t know.” She replied, unsure and confused.
“No rush, we have time.” I said as I turned around and began my long drive back to town. The road swerved and waved calmly, completely different to the approach. I drove to the point where The Lady in White was last seen, after a while I parked my car near the spot and looked to my side. The woman wasn’t there. I looked at my watch and my recorder. The sun had begun to rise over the hills, the air was crisp and fresh, I stayed for a while to just take in the sight of a calm morning before turning my recorder off and driving back.
I returned to my hotel room and after placing everything on the desk, I fell onto my bed and fell asleep, my body was exhausted and my mind was fatigued beyond words. I fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up in the afternoon. Having something to eat I went over the events from last night, pen and paper at the ready, I prepared to hear myself talking to nothing and no one. The doubt set in before I even hit the play button, after a while of convincing myself that I have some concrete evidence, I pressed play. To my surprise, it sounded like there were two people in the car, me and a woman, although the woman’s voice was covered by static. I wrote down all I could, that is what you’re reading.
The next couple of days went by and nothing special happened, I kept to myself most of the time. While analyzing everything I captured. It all seemed like a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. The last note I made during this investigation was: if something like that exists here, surely more stories remain in this part of the world. As the trees faded into the distance as the bus trundled along the trail back, the forest retreating as I returned back to the concrete and steel, it wasn’t long before the questions I had before, followed me home.

~PART 1~

An urban legend took my daughter’s life, and I would’ve done anything to save her.
Cock the Hammer. Have you ever heard of it? Not the Cypress Hill hip-hop song but the game. I’ll be honest, I hadn’t. Not until all of this happened.

Looking around at all the people in my house, I had wanted them to take their sympathy and leave me the fuck alone. A funeral for Nina shouldn’t be any kind of comfort for me. My daughter was dead, and I felt responsible.

Max found his sister. I should’ve been the one, but I was too busy and distracted. I should’ve done better. Nina had always thought I could. She believed in me more than I believed in myself, and that’s not the way a father-daughter relationship is supposed to work.

When I saw Chief Schnabel slip in my front door, I was furious. I didn’t want this guy in my house or anywhere near me. Schnabel was the one who told me the gunshot that killed my daughter was consistent with suicide. But they never found a gun. I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but suicide victims don’t dispose of their weapons. But this minor fact didn’t stop Schnabel from shutting down his investigation three hours after Nina was found.

I was about to make a rage-filled beeline for the Chief when I spotted Willow, Nina’s best friend since pre-school. I hadn’t talked to her since Nina died, and I needed to. Maybe she had answers.

Willow was emotional, but that didn’t stop me from bombarding her with lawyer-like questions, making her cry. I felt bad, but before I could apologize, the rest of Nina’s friends swooped in. There was Zach, Haley, Chase and Hugo. I’ve known these four for years and think they’re all decent kids, apart from Zach and his frat-boy smugness. I couldn’t tell if they were trying to protect Willow or hiding something, but I was determined to find out. But they kept giving me the runaround, especially smartass Zach.

I suddenly had the urge to punch Zach in the face, but my sister rescued me, dragging me into the kitchen. Lauren and her wife, Kim, reminded me that I was at my daughter’s funeral reception and that I probably shouldn’t be getting into a fight with her friends or making them cry. Lauren said I should be focused on Max. This riled me up, but I knew she was right.

The reception was finally winding down, and I had stayed hidden in the kitchen for the last hour, trying to talk to Max. He was playing his Game Boy and refusing to look at me, his fingers tapping away a million miles an hour.

Max is the sweetest kid – when he’s not having one of his epic meltdowns. His mother was good at consoling him, but she died last year of ovarian cancer. Nina had gracefully stepped in as the family Max-whisperer in my wife’s absence, the best big sister a kid with emotional issues could wish for. But now it was just me and Max.

“I promise I’ll do better, buddy,” I told him for the umpteenth time. “We’re all we have now, and I promise I’ll do better.”

Max didn’t respond, but I knew he’d heard me because his fingers stopped moving.

Willow suddenly appeared at the door. I was glad to see her, and I apologized for before.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice still shaky. “I know you’re upset.”

I nodded and kind of smiled, sharing something with her. We were both upset. We were both devastated.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Willow finally said after a long silence.

“I really am sorry, Willow. I was out of line. I know you were a wonderful friend to Nina. She was lucky to have you.”

Willow started to cry again. It was a little awkward, but I hugged her. I knew I wasn’t hugging my daughter, but I felt Nina close.

“Max, can I talk to your dad in private for a moment?”

Max dropped off his stool and walked out, never looking up from his Game Boy.

Willow wanted to tell me something important, so I let her take her time. I didn’t want to spook her.

“I was there when it happened,” she finally said.

I wasn’t sure what she meant.

“I was with Nina when she did it.”

“You were with Nina when she died?” I asked, needing this to be as clear as possible in my head.

Willow couldn’t speak before, but once she started, she was desperate to get it all out. She told me they got a hold of the gun and played the game at Zach’s house. She told me Nina didn’t want to play at first, but then the gun followed her home and seduced her, and when she did play, she experienced a suicide and the gun forced her to do what she did, even though Willow knows that’s the last thing Nina wanted to do.

I was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

Willow keeps talking, forcing the rest out. She told me she got rid of the gun. She told me that after a suicide, you have to protect the legend, or the gun will come after you and everyone you love. So that’s what she did. She drove out to Walton Park, dug a hole, and buried it.

She finally took a breath. I could tell she felt a sense of relief, but at the same time, she looked as if she might break into a million pieces.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. H.”

“I’m trying to understand what you’re saying, Willow,” I said as gently as I could. “I need to understand. This gun – whose was it?”

“It doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“And you say you played a game. What do you mean… what game?”

Before Willow could answer, her mother swept in, offered her condolences again, and whisked her daughter out. I would’ve stopped them if I had been thinking straight.

I found my sister cleaning up the buffet table. Lauren knew something was up by the look on my face. I asked her if she knew of some urban legend about a gun and a game.

“Cock the Hammer,” Lauren said without even thinking about it. “That story was big when we were kids. Why?”

“I don’t remember that.”

“That’s because you were too obsessed with basketball and Suzanne Boysen.”

“So, it’s not real?”

“What? Some haunted gun? No, of course not. Why are you asking about this?”

I brushed the question off. I didn’t want to try to explain what Willow had told me. I just wanted to think for a moment. I just needed time to think.

I jumped on the internet as soon as my house was my own again. It was true – there’s an urban legend called Cock the Hammer that’s been around for decades. I still couldn’t believe I’d never heard of it. It involves this ornate Lefaucheux revolver from the Civil War. Supposedly when you cock the gun’s hammer it shows you a random killing that’s been committed with the gun. You time travel to the place and time of a killing and get to inhabit the body of the person pulling the trigger. But there’s a Russian Roulette catch to the game. While most people experience the killing of another person, in some cases, the person used the gun to commit suicide. If a player relives one of these scenes, they’re forced by the evil possession of the gun to use it on themselves. The gun takes control, and it insists on being discharged – into a player’s head or mouth or whichever way the person committed suicide – to end the session. Or at least that’s how the legend goes.

My first thought was that’s some crazy, stupid shit. But the more I kept reading, the angrier it made me. This crazy, stupid shit was dangerous as hell.

How did Nina fall for it? I couldn’t understand that. She was such a smart kid. How could she have believed in such nonsense? That some fantasy gun had magical powers.

I wanted answers. But then again, maybe I didn’t deserve answers. I should’ve been protecting my daughter, but instead, this game and this so-called haunted gun had seduced her. It was a hard truth for me to swallow.

I couldn’t sleep that night. The gun haunted me. Not that I believed any of it; I didn’t. But I worried another Nina would. Willow said she had buried the gun, but that wasn’t good enough for me. I needed to unearth it and destroy it.

I picked Willow up first thing in the morning, and we drove out to Walton Park. I knew what I was asking her to do made her nervous. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the gun again. But I think she could tell I was desperate. It wouldn’t bring Nina back, but maybe it would save me just a little.

The hike into the woods was farther than I anticipated, but Willow said she wanted to get the gun as far away from anything and everyone as she could. She remembered exactly where she buried it. She hadn’t wanted to get lost hiking out, so she picked Squaw Rock, a place she used to visit with her dad before he remarried and started a new family.

We finally reached the area and the mound of dirt Willow buried the gun under. I had brought a small shovel and immediately started digging, tossing off dirt. I keep digging. I was surprised at how deep Willow buried it. Finally, I hit something solid. But it wasn’t the gun. It was a thick root from a nearby tree. I couldn’t dig any deeper.

“Are you sure this is the right spot?” I asked.

Willow was positive. She was suddenly on her knees. She put her hands into the hole, and they knocked hard against the root.

“Where is it?” She started searching through the loose dirt. She kept clawing at things with her hands, hoping the gun was somehow hidden in the tiny clumps. “Where is it?!” Her nerves had turned to panic.

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Somebody probably just found it.”

“No. I buried it here so no one could find it. But I shouldn’t have done that. I made it angry.”

I helped her to her feet. “Someone came along and dug it up, that’s all,” I said in my most self-assured voice.

Willow shook her head and kept shaking.

“It’s going to be okay,” I told her.

“It’s evil, Mr. H.”

“It’s a gun, Willow. It’s only evil if we make it evil.”

Willow told me I didn’t understand. She told me she would give anything to make me understand before it was too late.

All I wanted was to talk to Nina’s friends, and I asked Willow to text them. They felt ambushed when my car pulled into the 7-11 parking lot an hour later. Willow wanted to tell them she had buried the gun, but it was gone. I wanted to know if any of them had it, convinced that one of them did.

Even though I now knew they were all playing the game the night Nina died, her friends were still reluctant to talk. But Willow vouched for me, and they all softened. None of them had the gun. None of them wanted the gun after what happened to Nina.

“You can’t bury it,” Hugo said.

“You can’t destroy it, either,” Chase added.

Now that I was hearing the same story from all of them – seeing the same ardent belief in something so preposterous – I wanted more than ever to get my hands on this gun. Everything can be destroyed, even something evil.

I questioned Zach on where he got the gun in the first place, and he said he just found it. He was walking home from school, cutting through Abbot’s field, when the gun was just there in his path like it had been waiting for him.

“It probably sensed his fear,” Chase tells me.

Zach shoves Chase. “Bullshit, what fear?”

“Fine, dude, then it sensed your anger or stupidity or whatever.”

Zach came at Chase again, and the two boys scuffled, and I had to step in and break them up.

Zach stormed off in a huff, and Chase disappeared into the 7-Eleven. Hugo tried to escape with Haley, but she pulled her hand away. She wanted Hugo to tell me about his Uncle Ray. Hugo was pissed she was bringing this up when he asked her not to. The two argued for a moment, but then Hugo came clean. His Uncle Ray played the game a few years ago.

I pressed Hugo for details, but he said all he wanted to say, so Haley spoke for him. She told me that Uncle Ray played the game and experienced a suicide, but the person in the past trying to kill themselves screwed things up. “I mean, it was an attempted suicide, I guess,” Haley said. “They put the gun to their head and pulled the trigger, but they didn’t die. The bullet just got lodged in their brain. And that’s what happened to Uncle Ray. That’s how the game works.”

“He’s a vegetable,” Hugo offered. “Or at least that’s what my dad thinks. But my Aunt Kathy still visits him every day. She talks to him and swears he talks back – or at least on some telepathic level or something.”

“Where’s he living?” I asked.

“If you can call that living,” Hugo said with a pained chuckle.

“The place is called Cedarwood Manor,” Haley offered. “It’s out by the interstate.”

I wanted to take Willow home – she had helped me enough – but she insisted on coming along to Cedarwood Manor. I think being with me made her feel connected to Nina, and that’s something I understood. The feeling was mutual.

The front desk receptionist sent us in the right direction. We stepped into Uncle Ray’s room, pulled in by the droning beep of the machines. The blinds were drawn. To be honest, the guy looked dead more than anything. I guess he hadn’t been out of bed, or rather some bed, since this all happened – since he supposedly played the game and put a bullet in his head whether he wanted to or not, so his body had deflated like a balloon.

It wasn’t until Willow and I stood closer to the bed that we realized Uncle Ray’s eyes were open. His blank stare was eerie-looking. It was also focused squarely on Willow.

I wasn’t there for small talk, so I started asking the man questions about the gun and the game. I was pretty sure Uncle Ray could hear me because his eyes kept glancing over at me at various points, clearly triggered by what I was asking. But for the most part, his focus stayed drilled on Willow.

I wanted to know if it was true that he played some game called Cock the Hammer. I wanted to know how I could find the gun. I wanted to understand what he was so afraid of.

This last question surprised me. I wasn’t planning on asking it. I wouldn’t have imagined why I would. But the look of terror on Uncle Ray’s face made me realize it was the most important question of all.

Willow still hadn’t looked away. I think she was waiting for Uncle Ray to blink. I was waiting for the same thing. The man hadn’t, I swear, since we walked in.

Blink.

Willow’s arm was suddenly snatched by Uncle Ray’s hand. It came out of nowhere, his bony fingers clamping down hard around her flesh. Willow freaked. She tried frantically to squirm free, but his hand stayed clutched around her wrist, draining the blood from her hand. She wanted to run, and she tried to, yanking the wisp of the guy out of bed. The two of them were on the floor before I could even react. I jumped in and tried to pry Uncle Ray’s fingers open, but it was like rigor mortis had set in.

The commotion brought a crowd into the room like a code blue. The massive descent of bodies somehow freed Willow from what I’m sure felt like the grip of death. She scurried across the room on all fours. I moved with her, wanting to comfort her, but she jumped at my touch.

Willow was still shaking when I drove her home. She wouldn’t talk at first, but then she started mumbling something under her breath. I told her I really wanted to hear what she was saying, but she would have to speak up. She took a breath and started over. She told me that when Uncle Ray grabbed her arm, there was a bright flash of light in the room, and Uncle Ray was suddenly sitting at the edge of the bed, the Lefaucheux revolver from the game pointed at his head. He was trying to tell her something. She was terrified, but she stopped fighting him, transfixed, and just watched as the words slowly formed on his lips. I... dare... you.

“I dare you,” I repeated. “I dare you to what?”

“Play the game, I think,” Willow said.

It was suddenly clear to me that she had hit her head when she fell, and what she experienced was some sort of delusion. I told her that, hoping it would reassure her, but she insisted that what she was telling me had really happened.

“Why would he want you to play the game?” I asked, gently trying to discredit the story.

“He doesn’t,” she answered. “The gun does.”

I didn’t know what else to say, so I stayed quiet.

A few minutes later, I rolled to the curb in front of Willow’s house. The place was dark, except for a garish fluorescent light in the kitchen. Willow just stared up at it.

“It’s my fault,” she finally said. “I should’ve stopped Nina from playing.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I quickly answered. “It was my responsibility to be there for her. And I wasn’t.”

Willow took a few deep breaths, still trying to calm her nerves, then started chewing on the ends of her hair.

“I want you to take care, Willow. Okay?”

I think this made her feel better... that someone cared enough to be concerned.

“I want you to be careful, Mr. H. Okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m going to find the gun. I’m going to destroy it, I promise.”

Willow didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, she told me she wanted to believe me. She said she was going to try really hard to believe me. She said she genuinely thought that if anyone could do what I just said I would, it would be me. And then she said she’d pray for me.

I thanked her. She smiled, which was a little forced but nice to see, and then she climbed out of my car.

I didn’t know then that I would need Willow’s prayers – and every bit of help I could get – to survive what was about to happen next.

Dear (agent),
CRUEL MAGIC is an 88,000-word Adult Fantasy that blends the morally gray characters of This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone with the enemies-to-lovers romance of To Kill A Kingdom by Alexandra Christo.
Myn has just gained an apprenticeship with the reclusive magician named Crow—but learning the magical arts is only a cover. Her true goal is to slit his throat, taking revenge for how he helped to drive her clan out of the kingdom years before.
Myn initially finds Crow to be a stern and unpleasant teacher, which only cements her desire to carry out the mission her clan has entrusted her with. After all, she’s killed before. But as the weeks pass and Crow slowly opens up to her, Myn starts to see him as more human. The late King used Crow’s magical abilities, which are incredibly rare, as a tool—much as Myn’s clan wants to use hers—and Myn begins to doubt that she can go through with her mission to kill him.
One night, soldiers sent by an unknown attacker try to assassinate Crow. As Myn and Crow try to find out who sent the assassins, as well as to protect each other from further attacks, the two of them begin to develop feelings for each other. And Myn faces a terrible choice. She can work with Crow, thus betraying her clan and the only home she has ever known. Or she can kill the man she loves—a man she has always thought of as the enemy—a man who is prickly, sarcastic, terribly scarred, and willing to take a spear through the hand to save her life.
(Bio)
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely, me
Chapter 1. The Crow
Most of Myn’s family had died long ago. Her mother and father were fragments lost in the past, smoke escaping through holes in her memory. She had only her aunt, uncle, great-aunt, cousins, and a few dozen other stragglers from the once-proud Rimena who now lay scattered like a handful of dirt over the rocky hills of Lorlas.
Growing up, Myn knew little of what lay beyond the river that separated Lorlas—the area known to the kingdom as the Wild Lands—from the kingdom of Xianthe. All she knew was that when the wind blew from the south, the air brought with it a charred scent, like the remnants of a cook-fire, mixed with something sharp and silvery. The way the stars might smell, if they were close enough.
One day, when Myn was little, and the wind was blowing from the south: “That’s Crow’s scent,” her aunt Lila said, wrinkling her nose. But Lila did not turn from the wind. She let it gust through her hair, lifting the greasy strands like the touch of a lover, and when she narrowed her eyes, Myn thought she saw tears in them.
Myn was so young then that she came to believe there was really an enormous bird living beyond the river. For months she went to sleep thinking of it and woke still half-dreaming, with the rustle of wings at the back of her mind. She imagined it rising up in the distance, black and enormous, a living mountain that blocked out the sun. When it flapped its wings, a howling storm arose: trees bending and creaking, wind snarling in their branches, leaves scattered everywhere like desiccated ghosts.
Despite the bird’s ferocity, Myn’s dreams about it never scared her. Her primary emotion, upon waking, was a sense of awe. It seemed impossible that she could feel otherwise about this mighty bird: its feathers that shone with a watery dark, its brilliant pebble eyes, its proud and hideous beak.
…..^{^} Immediately after that first 300 ends, we jump ahead to the present day when Myn is 20 years old, so I don’t want you to get the idea that the part when she was a little girl goes on forever. (But I may have made a terrible mistake anyway.)
It’s basically too late for this query anyway cause I’ve already queried 60 agents…..Because my small press essentially forced my hand by offering on it before I’d even polished my query — but that was my fault for sending them the dang manuscript when they asked for it. 🤦‍♀️
Anyway, any thoughts on why this failed (no full requests, already 1/3 of the list have stepped away and I have the feeling the rest simply won’t answer) would be helpful. Thanks.
Also - the typical advice is “work on the next project” but since I’ve written 11 books so far, I’m beginning to think there is some fatal flaw baked into the very bones of my writing that is the reason I’ll never be trad published. And that it’s not something I can easily fix by simply moving on to the next (10,000th) project.

i have a really nitpicky, pain-in-the-butt dupes question. it's okay if you don't have any answers for me lol. i adore the original charlotte tilbury pillow talk lipstick and liner but they're expensive. i have a mini set from travelling to a country that has a sephora. i live somewhere without ulta, sephora, target etc etc. and even many drugstore brands aren't easily available to me here. as for dupes for the pillow talk lipstick and liners, i've found several to be quite good but nothing quite matches up when it comes to both shade AND formula.
dupes i have and enjoy: - revlon super lustrous the mattes in shade untold stories - loreal volume matte lipstick in shade 601 worth it - essence 8hr lip liner in a rosy shade - maybelline lip crayon in shade lead the way - maybelline the ultimattes in shade more buff
dupes i have tried and didn't enjoy/decluttered: - that essence lipstick in the white and good tube, can't remember the name. didn't enjoy the formula - wet n wild matte lipstick in the shade i've seen as a dupe. again, just don't like wnw lip product formulas that much
dupes i don't have access to where i live/the prices are severely marked up: - anything by nyx, milani, flower beauty, anastasia beverly hills, elf
dupe i won't try: -loreal colour riche lipstick in the gold tube. it's a gorgeous shade and formula BUT the strong rose fragrance is too much for me 😭
not dupes: - la girl flat velvet matte lipstick in shade snuggle. a great nude lip but NOT a pillow talk dupe. - mac matte lipstick (OG formula) in shade velvet teddy. deffs not a dupe. (am open to getting mac's lipstick in cosmo as a potential dupe.) it's possible that just getting the CT products could be easier 😂
thx for listening to my picky ass. is there any hope for me finding available dupes? 😂

Soulmage

The stars watched me carefully as I trekked along the grassy, rolling hills. It wasn't at all how geography worked, but setting foot on the rough terrain felt like it was getting me one step closer to the mountains I was born in. As if I would climb mounds and steppes and peaks in an ever-increasing line until I could grab the stars themselves and hurl them down from their celestial thrones.
Meloai would have pointed out that even if I had the physical power to interfere with the heavens, I would probably irreparably break the world if I cast the stars from their fixed positions. It felt like there was a lesson in there somewhere, but I'd had enough of education for a lifetime. Not that I had much of one to look forward to, thanks to the sickness swimming through my soul.
I had a plan for dealing with that, but I needed to wait until sunset. Not because there was any significance of sunset to my magic—the only possible influence would be if dusk had any emotional meaning to me, and of the things I cared about, the beauty of the natural world mattered only if it brought happiness and wonder to the people I'd left behind. No, sunset was just a convenient natural timer for the daily routine I'd have to endure.
I'd gotten far away enough from Knwharfhelm that it was unlikely anyone would investigate the noise if I started casting. So I reached into my soul, found the swirling vortex of snow-dusted feathers born of the mortal freedom that came with having but a handful of months to live, and gathered them into a spell. Shaped into a memory of one of Knwharfhelm's sailing-ships, the magic channeled itself into a nearly-solid boat of wind, lifting me off the ground with a deafening howl. So long as I held that memory firm in my mind, I would keep sailing across the skies until that nihilistic freedom drained from my soul.
So I had plenty of time.
Zhytln may have been an unassailable horror lurking beneath Knwharfhelm, but she put a surprising amount of genuine effort into keeping us placated, and unless I went digging into her personal affairs, she had been willing to answer some questions about the nature of magic. Continuing and broadening the education I'd gotten at the hands of the Silent Academy. One of these days I'd find a teacher that wasn't trying to fuck with free will, but until every would-be bully and tyrant dropped dead of spontaneous combustion, I'd steal what insights I could.
And wow, did Zhytln have insights. Magic was emotion, attunement was isomorphism, souls reflected reality and reality reflected souls. I couldn't claim to understand half of it, but by stacking attunements ("composing" them, as Zhytln had said), I could try to pull off a shadow of Zhytln's treatment of Cienne.
Every element of reality had its echo in soulspace. If I could find the analogue of my cancer in my soul, I could rip it from my body to alleviate the symptoms.
The problem with this kind of direct reality manipulation was that being able to even touch the images of realspace that projected into soulspace required attunement—and mortal minds could only obtain attunement to emotions. Terrible, terrible things happened to the body and soul when one reached too far beyond the scope of emotions a human mind could feel. But terrible things were happening to my body and soul anyway, so I was willing to risk it.
I knew what to look for: Zhytln had identified it in Cienne. Little swimming-hatching things in the slime-seas of my soul, courtesy of Iola's last spell. I couldn't perceive them, not directly, but they were surely somewhere in the span of attunements I'd collected. It would have been simpler to start with water, but I had precious little joy left in me.
So I started with blood. My vision of soulspace snapped into focus, my crawling, trickling fears visible as veins and rivers and ghostly walking circulatory systems. Filtering fear through spite gave me spidery, anxious hemolymph. I tried encasing it in regret, to show me the mud-caked bodies of the infinitesimal parasites infesting me, but the attunement I was trying to craft slipped from my mind, spinning wildly and rotating my vision of soulspace through uncountable flickering shadows. I grasped frantically at one of them, tiny specks burning in the void, but it was no use. I hadn't even come close to the attunement I'd wanted.
Fine. There was another way.
Attunements weren't monolithic. "Blood" was not a rigorously defined category, and it smeared and stained at the edges. I knew the soul-parasites that represented my sickness lived in the mud, wallowed in my regrets and used them as space to breed. I could relate, honestly. And I knew how to staunch that wound, if only for a moment.
I simply had to run out of regrets.
So I whispered a word and cast a spell, and willed the swamps of my soul to run dry. Infected, fetid mud swirled out of existence, the isomorphism inverting as I forced it into realspace. I knew little of the magics of regret, but Cienne had used it once to knit together a dying soul. Corrupted as it was, its effect would be different, unpredictable—which was why I'd flown off before trying this.
There was nobody but me who would be hurt if this spell backfired.
"You're wrong, you know."
My eyes snapped open, and I reflexively cursed and held out a hand to protect myself from the wind before remembering that I was a soulmage now, and I could strike back at problems instead of letting them strike at me. From the depths of my marrow I hewed coal-black exhaustion, and the resulting weight caused the wind to slump and plummet into a downdraft, letting me squint into the diminished headwind.
I tried to speak a question, but even reduced, the howling gale drowned out my words. The voice, therefore, must have been solely in my mind.
Which explained why it sounded like Sansen.
Hello? I thought.
No response. Tentatively, I willed more of the sickly pus in my soul to drain.
"I'm happy for you, Lucet. He'll be a better partner than I could have been."
I was ready for it, this time, and I caught a glimpse of the spell's mechanisms as it unspooled in soulspace. Tendrils of muck expanded and caught in thoughtspace, snagging on soul shards of those who were close to me and dragging them in. The echoes of Kiton—I hadn't thought of her since that day in the graveyard, and I'd never talked about her, even to Cienne—were just that. Echoes. I pushed further, and this time, the floodgates tore open—
"They'll take care of you," I said, ushering my daughter towards the bespectacled witch. My little Lucet took two toddling, uncertain steps forwards, looking up and up and up at me, and I raised my chin in pride. "Do well in school, won't you? And maybe we'll meet agai—"
My focus shattered, the memory unravelling, and with it, the memory of wind and sails I stood on.
The old me, the unsteady, wobbling child, she would have flailed and fell and dashed herself across the hills. But she had died thrice over on the road to where I stood today, and my only regret was that two of those responsible still drew breath.
Black bile spewed forth from my soul, sheer repulsive force propelling me away from the earth, the recoil as vivid and sharp as a riftmaw's bite. Callous, freezing freedom locked back into place around me, and I set my sights on the horizon once more.
It was hard to tell if the feverish strength in my emaciated limbs was from the cancer I'd excised or the regrets I'd left behind. But either way, both would cease to be an issue once I reached the Silent Peaks.
A.N.
Tentatively aiming for "updates on some Sundays." Not every Sunday, since I can't maintain that output, but... some of them.
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I currently hire a professional service for twice-monthly cleaning (3 bedroom house with pets), and I'm wondering if I should switch to a solo/independent cleaner to build a better relationship and ensure more of the money goes to the person doing the work.
My concern is insurance - how important is it to find someone that carries liability insurance for this? I would think the answer is "very important" - what if they get hurt at my house? What if they damage something expensive?
From the independent cleaners I've researched, it doesn't look like they carry insurance. Am I making a mountain out of a mole hill?

Dance is the hidden language of the soul
- Martha Graham

​

Aiden Logan	16 years old(27/08/20XX)	American
he/him	straight	Face claim

Relationships-

Dad (Matt Logan)	Aiden’s father, a pillar of strength, stepped into the role of both parents after Aiden’s godly mother departed. He raised Aiden and his sister—the daughter from his previous marriage who tragically succumbed to cancer. Despite his demanding career as a Hollywood choreographer, he toiled tirelessly to provide for the family. Although time was scarce, he imparted wisdom to his children, cherishing stolen moments and weaving magic through bedtime stories.
Sis (Aria)	Aiden's sister endured early losses, losing her mother at five and a stepmother at ten. Becoming a big sister at seven, she developed abandonment issues but found strength in teaching Aiden basketball. Now, she channels her resilience into owning a café, creating a warm, welcoming space for all.
Terpsichore	The only thing Aiden knows about her is from others. She was a nice partner for Dad, a solace for her sis and lightened the mood with her awe-inspiring dances.

Personality-
Aiden is a naturally charming guy who easily connects with people. He's great at singing, plays basketball thanks to his sister, and is a skilled breakdancer, even if he doesn't practice much. He's empathetic, loyal, and always up for an adventure. A naturally charming guy who easily connects with people. He's great at singing, plays basketball thanks to his sister, and is a skilled breakdancer, even if he doesn't practice much. However, Aiden has his flaws. He can be a bit self-absorbed, tends to procrastinate, and is sometimes stubborn and impatient.
Powers-

Domain Powers	Godrent Minor Powers	Godrent Major Power
Performer's Buff	Muse Gift III	Puppet Master
Muse Mental Fortitude	Superior Strength
Artistic Curses

History-
Aiden grew up in a home which had seen too many losses. First the passing away of her step-sister's mother then her mother leaving her father after giving him a child to raise. Terpsichore had found a lover in Matt. They had aiden. After seeing the family's condition she decided to stay for some years. Three years later Apollo found out about it. "He was more scared about Zeus than finding out than how the world was declining in quality dance after Terpsichore left"; his father recalled. That's when she told Dad about her being a muse and the child being a demigod. Dad swore to keep this a secret even from me and Aria.
Speaking of Aria she is my rock. She was with me when Dad couldn't find time and helped me with most of the school stuff. Now she has a cafe of which I am a part-time barista.
Weird things started happening when I had a dream or two about my mom. It was not clear after waking up. But she told me how dangerous it is now becoming outside due to some stuff and monsters are even picking up minor smells too. Well of course I being a good boy ignored it.
One unfortunate night Dad decided to bring home his friend from the studio. Luckily my sister was working past hours that day because that 'friend' turned out to be a monster and attacked us. Luckily my dad's instinct worked as he killed it with a knife. He quickly grabbed me and sent a voice message to Aria about how I suddenly became unwell and the food was getting cold she should come home quickly driving almost recklessly.
Present-
"You are saying I am supposed to live in this camp now?" I asked him looking at the big tree on the top of the hill. "Quick monsters maybe here as well," he said tensing and looking around. "you would be safe inside and don't worry once you learn how to defend yourself all this would be worth it."
"You still didn't answer when I can come back? An-And what about that 'your mother was a special woman sh-she was a goddess' Who is she?"
"Trust me you will find all those answers inside, now go" He gave me a bag."I had it all prepared for you ever since you started showing signs"
"Love you, Dad," I said hugging him as I walked up the hill and then well down.
It was a valley full of cabins and grounds and colours. The soft breeze brushed against his hair. A lyre appeared above him. Aiden didn't get to see it as he was still sleepy-eyed after all it was almost 6 in the morning. But people noticed it or at least one-two campers who were early risers.
(OOC: YOU MAY CONVERSE WITH HIM NOW OR AFTER SEEING HIM ROAMING THE CAMP WITH A BAG AND SHAGGY CLOTHES A FAINT LYRE STILL THERE CAUSE TERPSICHORE IS STUBBORN)

Welcome to this weeks 'This Week' of Tolkien letters. I have been asked to switch it around and post future letters rathwer than letters from the week we are in. Below you will find a selection of letters sent from 3 to 9 June from, to, and about J.R.R. Tolkien. Follow the link to each date where you will find each letter froma given date briefly detailed below along with other letters from that day.
3 June
JRRT to Christopher Tolkien 3 June 1945 (Letter #101) - Tolkien tells Christopher that he has to attend a stand-down parade, which he describes a sa mockery.
JRRT to Ronald Eames (GA&U) (Letter #146) - GA&U had sent Tolkien a proof for a Lord of the Rings jacket design for approval, which he does not.
E.V. Gordon to JRRT 3 June 1936 - Tolkien's friend, E.V. Gordon writes to him, noting that he is upset that Tolkien's name is not attached to the volume Seinte Iuliene. [Tolkien's name was left off this volume to allow Simonne d'Ardenne to gain her B.Litt qualification.]
4 June
JRRT to Stanley Unwin 4 June 1938 (Letter 28) - Tolkien informs Stanley Unwin that The Hobbit has won a prize in the US, which he has been awarded $250 for.
JRRT to Pauline Baynes 4 June 1949 - Tolkien writes to the illustrator Pauline Baynes noting how pleased hi is with her illustrations for Farmer Giles of Ham.
JRRT to Clyde S. Kilby 4 June 1968 (Letter 304) - Tolkien gives details on his move to the South Coast. In a portion which is unpublished, he complaisn to Kilby about William Ready's book, The Tolkien Relation.
5 June
JRRT to Rayner Unwin 5 June 1953 (Letter 137b) - Tolkien asks for an update on galeys for The Lor dof the Rings.
JRRT to GA&U 5 June 1953 (Letter 137c) - Tolkien asks if there will be time to review his new book, The Lord of teh Rings. He would like C.S. Lewis to among the reviewers.
JRRT to James Murray 5 June 1973 0 Tolkien makes arrangements to sign some books for a reader. he also encloses 2 signatures that can be laid into books.
6 June
JRRT to Sue Parman 6 Juen 1964 - Tolkien replies to Sue Parman who had set some of Tolkien's poetry to music.
JRRT to Fr. Douglas Carter ?6 June 1972 (Letter 338) - Tolkien replies to a question about the Ent Wives.
JRRT to Lord Bullock 6 June 1972 (Letter 338a) - Tolkien writes to thank Lord Bullock after being given an award earlier that week.
7 June
JRRT to W.H. Auden 7 June 1955 (Letter 163) - Tolkien discusses the origins and inspirations behind The Lord of the Rings.
JRRT to Donald Swann 7 June 1965 - Tolkien mentions a visit from the Swann's where Tolkien and Donald Swann had discussed the latters setting of Tolkien's poetry to his music.
Henry Bradley to Leeds University 7 June 1920 - Bradey writes a letter of recomendation for Tolkien.
8 June
JRRT to Dan Davin 8 June 1951 - Tolkien informs Dan Davin, of Oxford University Press that he has returned the material he had for the Clarendon Chaucer.
JRRT to Rhona Beare 8 June 1961 (Letter 230) - Tolkien answers various questions about The Lord of the Rings.
Joy Hill to John Boorman 8 June 1970 - Joy Hill writes to Boorman on the matter of his adaptation of The Lord of the Rings. She says that Tolkien will be interested to hear his ideas and hopes for Boorman's good health to return after being unwell.
9 June
JRRT to Michael Tolkien 9 June 1941 (Letter 45) - Tolkien remarks on his ongoing struggles with his writing. The weather, and his responsibilities are making finding time difficult.
JRRT Tolkien to William Ready 9 June 1957 - Writing to William Ready of the Marquette, Tolkien says he would be delighted to visit the archive in the USA. In the event, this never happens.
G.B. Smith to JRRT 9 June 1913 - Smith asks Tolkien's advice about buying furniture for his move to Oxford for studies.
Our page On This Day can be searche dto find letters from any day. Simply type the date, such as 2 June inot the search box and you will see all of the results for that day.

Namaste, fellow travelers of the unknown! Gather 'round as I regale you with a spine-chilling tale straight from the heart of India—a land steeped in mystery, where ancient legends and modern horrors collide in a dance of darkness and light.
Many moons ago, nestled amidst the verdant hills of the Western Ghats, there stood a bungalow—an imposing structure of faded grandeur that had long been abandoned by its human inhabitants. Known to the locals as "Bhoot Bangla"—the Haunted Bungalow—this decaying relic was said to be cursed by the spirits of those who had met untimely ends within its walls.
As the story goes, the bungalow was once home to a wealthy zamindar and his family, who lived a life of luxury and opulence until tragedy struck one fateful night. Under the cloak of darkness, a series of inexplicable events unfolded within the confines of the bungalow—strange noises in the dead of night, shadowy figures lurking in the corridors, and whispers that seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves.
In the years that followed, the bungalow became a place of fear and superstition—a forbidden enclave that few dared to enter, lest they awaken the wrath of the restless spirits that dwelled within. But despite the warnings of the wise and the pleas of the fearful, there were those who dared to venture into the heart of darkness in search of answers... and paid the ultimate price for their curiosity.
Now, as the sun sets on another day in the land of legends, I invite you, dear readers, to share your own tales of terror from the heart of India. Have you encountered the spirits that wander the ancient ruins of Hampi? Or witnessed the eerie glow of the Aleya Ghost Lights on the marshes of West Bengal? Whatever the case may be, I implore you to share your stories in the comments below, and let us weave together a tapestry of nightmares that will haunt our dreams for nights to come.

Hello, I'm currently on a waiting list to receive a diagnosis for potential neurodivergency. In the meantime I want to reduce mistakes I make.
Just recently we came from the cinema late at night and we didn't want to take a taxi home. I started to look at Maps to find a route home but it was complicated and I forgot to look for the official schedule. My partner pressures me to find an option that isn't the tram because he doesn't like crowds. We get halfway to the stop and Im getting more confused and trusting blindly in maps. He was rushing us out of the shopping centre asap whereas I would've preferred to stay still and weigh up our options. He says to check the official schedule and we find our the bus isnt for another hour but we are already halfway down the hill to the bus stop.
He explodes and shouts saying I'm r*tarded and that any other human can think of things fast and act. He said he feels like he is responsible for everything in the relationship and if he doesn't lead, I would be lost. And for that it would be better for him to be single than have a burden.
At that point I'm breaking down and he pressures me to give a "logical answer" for what happened and I try to explain that I panic/have a freeze response to stressful situations. He says that's an excuse and he wants something else. He then tells me to check again when the next bus is, I feel immense pressure because he says "this time I want you to thing and give me a right answer" I tell him Google says xyz because I felt if I said that there still wouldn't be a bus for an hour he would get mad. He got mad saying how can I fall into the trap once but twice.
We wait for the bus and get home. He says he can't keep going like this and questions why it is taking so long for me to be on the waiting list for diagnosis.
I just need help making less of these mistakes and being able to lead until I can have access to a MH professional who can help me look at what is causing these moments of helplessness and panic where other people can deal with it. What can you suggest?