I would like to see Regina Goddess of Revenge and Puppetry/Her sister Zenarith Goddess of Night;Undeath and DisasteLucy the Specter(not enough of a Illustration to get a good picture of her)/Vampiers/Demon King/Demon Kings daughter and some other monsters we never seen before.
Characters and monsters we seen some illustrations of dont count:Levy the prince of Elroad has two illustrations of his design shown clearly/Maxwell has been shown in manga for a lot of chapters/Neroids got illustration in Fantastic Days game(and some small art in manga).

Tried to get these in some sort of order….. let’s start slow….
The faces
Get your screenshots
Tongue
The face I make when police check cavities
Cheese teeth
Bursting out the cage
Kratom lick
Embarrassing 🙈
Body shake faces
Caked up shawty
Chris Chan
Ankle biter
Period Pooh
Bottom
Big Ed
Kratom spill faces
Tiny diny / roses / peach ice cream / Turkey
Tiny diny
Rose / Tiny Diny
Rose
Peach ice cream
Turkey
Wheelchair ♿️
I was in a wheelchair once
BAD CHAT !
Shape up chat !
Fitwithnips
Chat did it !
TIME OUT !
Our short knight
Nicks favorite gift
Nick hates the tall knight
Mom troll gifts
Rant interruption
Bear mask era ✨
Bear masking
Menacingly
Terrified kids
Disgusted girl
Battle beef with mask
GET OUT OF MY ROOM !
Keep trollin’ , trollin’ , trollin’ , trollin’
Clown
Harris vs tree
Valentine’s Day cards
Airplane girl
EDP445
Sean Gatz
Threats
Sober king
Hurting people
Boys hate little girls
T’was the night before eviction
Soft voice prince
Soft voice prince pt2
Soft voice prince pt3
Troll accounts
Chipotle
Nicks mom
Nicks stuffed owl
Nicks stuffed owl pt2
The plaque on nicks teeth
Haywood mall security
Nicks trespass warrant
Battle fun / speed dating
Face down ass up
Tweaker talent show
Bridget speed dating
Bridget speed dating pt2
Flirting with Sophia
Sadie pt1
Sadie pt2
Don’t ignore lil Nicky
Megan - Morgan?
Unimpressed queen
Not cute call out
Plenty of women want him ?
Fighting with lip singer
Monkey kiss kiss
BRITNEY GO AWAY
Terri joe pt1
Terri joe pt2
Dance off
Handstand
Lil flippy
Wet stain
Happy birthday Gino
The call out
Passive aggressive
What does strangler mean ?
Delusions
No one letting him make them smile
I would treat you like my woman
All Reddit girls want me
It’s all the girls
Him making sense ?
Low standards
Domestic violence isn’t a joke
Not a snowflake
Taking to air pt1
Taking to air pt2
Troll army - troll king
Positive king
The lies
Ramblings of an unhinged man
Ummm…. Moves
Ummm…. Moves pt2
Face down ass up
Fart noise
Remembers us all
Sees us in public
Act your rating
Hurt king
Hurt king pt2
Happy to unhinged
Happy to unhinged pt2
Happy to unhinged pt3
Happy Birthday
Can’t hold liqour
Leave me alone
Up for a day
Up for a day pt2
Crying about Laura
Yelling at him
Putting for on plates & making legs shake
Knife
No proof
Fake crying
Because he don’t have a car
How he could be famous
Tina
He’s walking away…. Or jumping ?
Slow ??
Pick me
Misandrist
We are sick
Maturing
Incidents
Dogs out
Dogs out pt2
Hand situation
Lactation
Toothbrush boycott
Shower boycott
Bricky Nicky
Swamp ass
Swamp ass pt2
Nose in ass
Nude flash
Nude flash pt2
Cinnabeef
Whopper lies
Kratom spill
Yogurt cup
RIP bed frame
Drugs
Desk tour pt1
Desk tour pt2
Nick leaks #
Breakdown
Elf on the shelf
Admits bisexual
Haywood mall blowie
Toe sucking pt1
Toe sucking pt2
Co-worker
Mommy issues Fb post
Mommy video
Woman who tried selling pics of minors
Being creepy with minors
Drew afualo

 Cops incident 

Pre-cop
Cops pt1
Cops pt2
Cops pt3
Cops pt4
Cops pt5
Cops pt6
Cops pt7
Cops pt8
Cops pt9

 Cop incident x2 

Cops pt1
Cops pt2
Post cop live

 Matt alright incident 

Matt alright IG post
Nick’s response
Explanation of Matt alright
Live pt1
Live pt2
Live pt3
Live pt4
Live pt5
Post live pt1
Post live pt2

 Coffee shop incident 

Coffee shop live pt1
Coffee shop live pt2
Coffee shop live pt3
Coffee shop live pt4

 Gym ban incident 

Gym ban confirmation
New gym doxx
Gym ban talk
Blame for gym ban

 Mall trespass incident 

Mall trespass announcement
Pre trespass encounter
Mall pics
Mall insanity
Mall dance
JCP floor
Cop encounter pt1
Cop encounter pt2
Cop encounter pt3
Cop encounter pt4
Post mall trespass

 Wine night lore 

Chugging wine
Rambling
Puking
Rolling in puke
Post wine night
Wine stain

 Lease not renewed 

Lease not renewed
Hope this clears some of the lore and incidents up for anyone curious ! Again I am truly thankful for all of you for making this group what it is today! Let me know if I forgot anything or you think should be added!
Shout out to the posters of these videos and anyone who had input on the lore/trolls!
Happy snarking 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hey, The breakup was over a year ago.
I no longer had the capacity to treat her as a priority 24/7. (I was having constant earaches because of the stress in this relationship for example. But she didn't care.)
I gave her some gifts during the relationship. For example a card game that she has wanted since she was young. (It was a real act to find it somewhere but I did).
So all the small things I gave to her weren't just random stuff but instead it always was something connected to her personality.
DVDs, Boardgames, Decorations for her terrace, Videogames and some selfmade stuff I made for her.
Hell, I even took her on vacation to the most important place in my life. A small forest hut at the lake. She was the first woman ever that I invited there. (But she still felt that she wasn't important to me)
But there were also "Things" that stood for our relationship. A plushy and 3 animal model figures. Those were our little family and they were very dear to us... Sadly at my last visit the plushy was "rotting" under her bed since weeks...full of dust. Not gonna lie, I felt bad for the plushy... Guess I have seen "Toy Story" too much but I always even had compassion with objects somehow..
So the discard came when I didn't have capacity to treat her as a priorority 24/7 anymore as I said. (I was in a really bad way and everything in my life was going wrong at the time. Health issues, grandpa died and a couple of other things) She then blocked me everywhere.
We already had some few break-ups but this time I had no strength left to fight. So I isolated myself for 2 months in my apartment. After these 2 months a friend told me that my pwBPD was in online dating. 3 Days after she ghosted me.
So...while I was isolating myself for 2 months she was in online dating 3 days after she blocked me. That's it. I wrote her a mail(E-Mail was the only thing she hasn't blocked me). I told her that she can keep all the presents and so on but the only thing I wanted back was our "Family". (The plushy and the 3 animal model figures) Sorry if I sound like a drama king but it really broke my heart to imagine that the 4 would see how pwBPD would make out with an other guy in front of them)
Of course I didn't get an answer. So a mutual friend wrote to pwBPD: "Hey, would you give him these 4 things back? You can keep everything else but these 4 things. If you don't wanna see him you can give them to me and I'll hand it out to him."
She got no answer too.
Some time later, I got a friend request on FB. I didn't know the guy so I visited his profile. Turned out he was a photographer who photographed pwBPD half nude and so on.. (Whatever he wanted from me with this childish friend request, I didn't care anymore. Usual flying monkey stuff. I just wanted our "family" back)
Our mutual friend then told pwBPD:
"Hey, he (me) is separated from you but could you hand out the stuff please?" She got blocked too.
So by now, it's over a year later. Of course there was a smear campaign, telling everybody what a bad person I am and blah blah blah. I heard she slept around of course but that's always the case with pwBPD.
I know I won't get the "family" back. But I asked myself: Why?
Why is she still keeping it if she didn't care about it anyway?
Best regards, friends.

This is the second half of my list for Florida's execution roster. As stated in the first part, I split it into two halves in order to follow reddit's character count limitations. Link to part 1.
The currently 105 executed offenders, cases 53 to 105:
53. Aileen Wuornos (~1974-2002, lethal injection): Wuornos murdered 7 men between the ages of 47-65. She was a street prostitute that enticed her victims with promises of sexual favors. After a victim was entrapped, Wuornos shot them dead, and robbed them of their money and their vehicles. Although Wuornos initially claimed that she killed the victims in self defense, she later admitted that they were murdered for their valuables. Her criminal history was extensive, and she had several convictions for armed robbery, assault, DUIs, reckless discharge of firearms, and disorderly conduct. She was also accused of domestic violence by an ex husband, and he placed a restraining order on her within weeks of their marriage.
54. Linroy Bottoson (~1971-2002, lethal injection): In a robbery of a post office, Bottoson stole $14,000 in money orders and $100 in cash, and abducted the post mistress, 74 year old Catherine Alexander. After holding her captive for 3 days, Bottoson stabbed Alexander 16 times, and ran her over with his car. He had several robberies on his criminal record.
55. Amos King Jr. (~1972-2002, lethal injection): After he escaped from a minimum security prison, King broke into the home of 68 year old Natalie Brady and assaulted her. She was raped, stabbed, and savagely beaten in the attack. King then set her house on fire, and returned back to the prison. At his arrival, the prison counselor confronted him about his absence and bloodied clothing. He was stabbed 25 times by King, but managed to survive his injuries. Despite her injuries, Brady managed to crawl out of her burning home, but succumbed to blood loss shortly before help could arrive. King had a previous conviction for robbery.
56. Newton Slawson (1989-2003, lethal injection): Slawson went over to the home of the Wood family (consisting of parents, 23 year old Gerald and 21 year old Peggy, and their children, 4 year old Jennifer and 3 year old Glendon) to buy some cocaine. During an argument over the transaction, Slawson shot and killed Gerald, Jennifer, and Glendon, and wounded Peggy. Slawson then stabbed Peggy (who was 8 months pregnant) with such force that he tore her unborn child out of her womb.
57. Paul Hill (1994-2003, lethal injection): During an attack on an abortion clinic, Hill shot and killed John Britton, a 69 year old abortionist, and his bodyguard, 74 year old James Barrett. Britton’s wife, 68 year old June, was also wounded in the shooting. Hill was a hardline pro life activist and Christian fundamentalist, and saw ending abortion by any means necessary as his personal divine mission.
58. Johnny Robinson (~1980s-2004, lethal injection): Robinson and his teenage accomplice picked up 31 year old Beverly St. George when they found her broken down on the side of the road. They then raped St. George and shot her to death. He tried to claim that they had consensual relations and St. George was hit by an accidental discharge during intercourse. If Robinson's "recollection" was to be believed, he then shot her again to cover up an "accidental" shooting of a white woman. The courts weren't convinced by the defense, and the accomplice admitted that the murder was entirely deliberate and calculated from the beginning. Robinson had several rape convictions and accusations before St. George's murder.
59. John Blackwelder (~1970s-2004, lethal injection): While incarcerated for molesting a 10 year old boy, Blackwelder tied up his cellmate, 39 year old Raymond Wigley, under the alleged pretenses of a bondage session and strangled him to death with makeshift rope. According to Blackwelder, Wigley had been sexually harassing him, and he wanted to put a permeant end to the unwanted advances. Blackwelder had several sexual assault convictions dating back to the 1970s, and was also previously convicted for threatening former vice president Dan Quayle. His victim was the accomplice of another executed offender, John Marek, and was serving a life sentence for assisting him in the torture murder of a woman [for more details on Marek and Wigley's crimes, please see section 68] at the time of his own death.
60. Glen Ocha (1999-2005, lethal injection): Ocha picked up 28 year old Carol Skjerva from a bar and they had sex in his home. However, Skjerva allegedly made mocking remarks towards his genitals and threatened to tell her fiance of their encounter. In a drunken rage and under the influence of ecstasy, Ocha hung her with rope from his kitchen door.
61. Clarence Hill (1982-2006, lethal injection): During an attempted bank robbery with an accomplice, Hill engaged in a shootout with the responding policemen. One of the officers, 26 year old Stephen Taylor, was killed and another was wounded.
62. Arthur Rutherford (1985-2006, lethal injection): Rutherford was hired by a widow, 63 year old Stella Salamon, to do odd jobs around her home. He then drowned Salamon in her bathtub and tried to cash in a check of $2,000 from her account. Salamon's nude body was found with a broken arm, bruising all across her face, and three head wounds.
63. Danny Rolling (~1960s-2006, lethal injection): Rolling murdered a total of 8 people between the ages of 8-55. In 1989, Rolling stabbed 55 year old William Grissom, William’s 24 year old daughter Julie, and his 8 year old grandson Sean to death in their home. Julie’s body was ritualistically mutilated and posed during the attack. A year later, he shot his estranged father, 59 year old James. Although James survived, he was left permanently blind. Rolling then burglarized several student dorms in a week long rampage. Five students, 23 year old Tracy Paules, 23 year old Manuel Taboda, 18 year old Sonja Larson, 17 year old Christa Hoyt, and 17 year old Christina Powell, were bound, raped, and stabbed to death. Only Taboada was spared from any sexual abuse. As with Julia Grissom, Rolling posed the female victims into provocative positions and mutilated their bodies. Roiling decapitated Hoyt and placed her head on a cabinet shelf for the sole purpose of shocking witnesses stumbling across the scene. He had a long history of robberies, assaults, and voyeurism, and some of his earliest convictions occurred when he was a teenager.
64. Ángel Díaz (~1960s-2006, lethal injection): In his native Puerto Rico, Díaz stabbed an unidentified man, who was a director of a local drug rehabilitation center, 19 times while the victim was asleep. Díaz was sentenced for second degree murder, but he escaped after beating a guard near death, and fled to Florida. During his stay in Florida, Díaz and his accomplices robbed a strip club at gunpoint, and shot and killed the manager, 49 year old Joseph Nagy. After Nagy’s murder, he and his accomplices relocated themselves to Connecticut. However, they were arrested for a possession of illegal firearms charge. Díaz and 3 other inmates briefly managed to escape by beating up a guard and threatening another at knifepoint, but were quickly recaptured. After a cellmate testified that Díaz confessed to Nagy’s murder, he was deported back to Florida and sentenced to death. His execution sparked controversy, as it took him 34 minutes to succumb to the lethal drugs. Díaz’s other criminal convictions include shooting and injuring an officer during an armed robbery and several drug possession charges. Authorities also suspected him of being involved with several Puerto Rican nationalist insurgent groups.
65. Mark Schwab (1987-2008, lethal injection): Schwab lured 11 year old Junny Rios-Martinez into a motel room by posing as a photographer for a surfing magazine. He bound Rios-Martinez, anally penetrated him, and smothered the boy to death with a pillow. Schwab also had a conviction for the sexual battery of a 13 year old boy, and he was released after serving 3 out of an 8 year prison sentence months before Rios-Martinez's murder.
66. Richard Henyard (1993-2008, lethal injection): Henyard and his teenage accomplice carjacked 35 year old Dorothy Lewis, and her two daughters, 7 year old Jamilya and 3 year old Jasmine. The pair raped Dorothy, and shot and killed both of her daughters. Dorothy was also shot in the head, but was able to survive. Dorothy recounted that she tried praying for her and her children's safety, and Henyard taunted her by mockingly claiming to be Satan himself.
67. Wayne Tompkins (~1980s-2008, lethal injection): While helping his girlfriend move from their home, Tompkins made sexual advances on her 15 year old daughter, Lisa DeCarr. When she rejected him, Tompkins raped and strangeld her to death with a bathrobe, and tried to report DeCarr as a runaway. Tompkins also had several sexual assault convictions and accusations prior to the murder. One incident involved him abducting and abusing a gas station clerk.
68. John Marek (~1980s-2008, lethal injection): Marek and his accomplice, Raymond Wigley, picked up 47 year old Adela Simmons. They forced Simmons to perform oral sex on them, burned her fingers and pubic hairs, and strangled her to death with a bandana. The pair then dumped her body near a beach. Marek was sentenced to death for Simmons' murder, while Wigley was given a life sentence. While in prison, Wigley himself was strangled to death by the above mentioned John Blackwelder.
69. Martin Grossman (1984-2010, lethal injection): Grossman was given probation after a spree involving the burglary of an ex girlfriend's home and stealing cars. While out shooting a stolen handgun with a friend, they were confronted by Margaret Park, a 26 year old wildlife ranger. Wanting to avoid being arrested and put back into prison for violating his parole, Grossman and his friend attacked Park with a flashlight. They wrestled her service pistol away from her and shot and killed Park with it. Due to Grossman being Jewish, his death sentence outraged several Jewish organizations across the globe, and they petitioned ceaselessly for his clemency.
70. Manuel Valle (1978-2011, lethal injection): While driving a stolen car, Valle was pulled over by Louis Pena, a 41 year old police officer, for a traffic violation. In the confrontation, Valle shot Pena and his partner. Although Pena was killed in the shooting, his partner's life was saved by a bullet proof vest.
71. Oba Chandler (~1960s-2011, lethal injection): Chandler enticed a woman, 36 year old Joan Rogers, and her two daughters, 17 year old Michelle and 14 year old Christe, with the promise of a boat ride. On board, he bound the family with rope and raped all three of them. Chandler then tied concrete blocks around Joan and her daughters' necks and tossed them into the ocean to drown. He also raped and strangled 20 year old Ivelisse Berrios–Beguerisse after abducting her from a mall, and was linked to the murder by a 2014 DNA test 3 years after his execution. Chandler was an inveterate sexual predator with a very long criminal history, and was first arrested for car theft in his early teens. Many of his other crimes include several convictions of armed robbery, burglary, rape, counterfeiting, and kidnapping. In one incident, he broke into a couple’s house, and sexually assaulted the wife in front of her husband. One surviving victim, a 24 year old Canadian tourist, helped investigators tie Chandler to the Rogers’ murders with her reports.
72. Robert Waterhouse (~1966-2012, lethal injection): In 1966, Waterhouse snuck into the home of 77 year old Ella Carter, and raped and strangled her to death. He was paroled after serving 8 years of a life sentence. A few years later, Waterhouse picked up 29 year old Deborah Kammerer from a bar and assaulted her on a nearby beach. He stabbed and violated Kammerer with a broken bottle, shoved a tampon down her throat, and drowned her in the ocean waters.
73. David Gore (1981-2012, lethal injection): Gore and his cousin abducted and murdered 4 teenage girls (17 year old Ying Hua Ling, 17 year old Lynn Eilliot, 14 year old Angelica LaVallee, 14 year old Barbara Byer) and 2 grown women (48 year old Hsiang Huang Ling and 35 year old Judith Daley). The victims were kidnapped through force, picked up while hitchhiking, or tricked into thinking that Gore was a police officer detaining them. They were then tied up, raped, and shot or strangled to death. The cousins dismembered the bodies in their attempts to destroy them and buried the scattered remains in shallow graves. Two of their victims, Ying Hua Ling and Hsiang Huang Ling, were a mother and daughter pair of Taiwanese immigrants, and the cousins murdered them together. A 7th victim, 14 year old friend of Eilliot, was also abducted and sodomized, but she managed to escape with Eilliot's help.
74. Manuel Pardo Jr. (1986-2012, lethal injection): Pardo was a corrupt cop heavily involved in the drug trade. After his department fired him for his abuse of power and suspected tampering of investigations, Pardo went on a crime spree. He shot and killed at least 9 men and women in robberies and interpersonal disputes. The victims he murdered in robberies were 39 year old Ulpiano Ledo, 37 year old Luis Robledo, 33 year old Mario Amador, and 28 year old Roberto Alons. In every robbery incident, he stole the victims’ credit cards. Pardo killed 28 year old Fara Quintero in an argument over a ring he pawned to her and 30 year old Sara Musa for refusing his demands of buying him a VCR set with a credit card stolen from one of his previous robberies. Another victim, Michael Millot, a 38 year old Haitian refugee that took up work as a gunsmith, was slain out of Pardo’s fears of him being a police informant. His last murders were 40 year old Ramon Alvero, a drug dealer that he work for, and Alvaro’s girlfriend, 38 year old Daisy Ricard. Pardo turned on the couple after Alvaro stiffed him of a meeting. He shot Alvaro dead, but Padro’s gun jammed when he tried to shoot Ricard as well. As he was beating Ricard to death with his gun, it discharged and hit Pardo’s foot. On death row, Pardo tried to fashion himself as a vigilante trying to rid Florida of all drug related crimes.
75. Larry Mann (~1970s-2012, lethal injection): Mann ambushed 10 year old Elisa Nelson while she was biking from school to a dentist appointment. He raped Nelson and beat her to death with a pipe. Authorities also initially suspected Mann in the murders of several girls in the area, such as 16 year old Janie Sanders and 13 year old Rose Levandoski, but the current thinking is that another (still unknown) predator was likely responsible. Although he had convictions against adult women, Mann was a pedophile with a history of mostly preying on young girls.
76. Elmer Carroll (~1972-2012, lethal injection): Carroll broke into the room of 10 year old Christine McGowan. He raped and strangled the girl to death, tucked the body underneath the bedsheets, and stole her stepfather's construction truck. McGowan's body discovered was by her stepfather when he came to check on her. At the time of the murder, Carroll had two separate convictions (including one against his then 5 year old niece) for child molestation and was first accused of rape at the age of 16.
77. William Van (~1971-2013, lethal injection): Poyck Van Poyck and another man, Frank Valdez, ambushed a prison van that their incarcerated friend was being transported in with the intent of freeing him. The pair shot and killed a guard, 40 year old Fred Griffis and wounded another. Despite overtaking the van, they were forced to retreat without their friend with the arrival of police reinforcements. Both were captured after a brief shootout with the police and were given death sentences for Griffis’ murder. The case sparked controversy when Valdez was beaten to death by other prison guards in his cell. The officers involved were all fired but acquitted for murder in their trials. Van Poyck had several convictions of armed robbery on his record.
78. John Ferguson (~1960s-2013, lethal injection): Ferguson was the mastermind of the Carol City massacre that his above mentioned accomplices, Marvin Francois and Beauford White, participated in. He also committed a series of murders on his own. Two of his other victims, 17 year old Brian Glenfeldt and 17 year old Belinda Worley, were a couple that were ambushed in the parking lot of an ice cream shop. Ferguson raped Worley, shot her and Glenfeldt dead, and ran off with her jewelry and Glenfeldt’s wallet. Another couple, 82 year old Katherine and 75 year old Raymond Perry, were assaulted by Ferguson in their motel room, robbed, and shot dead execution style. Authorities also believe that Ferguson was responsible for the murders of James Ward, a 40 year old runaway from a mental institution, and Joseph Walters (age unknown), but was never convicted of them in court. Ferguson had a troubled upbringing, was stealing cars at the age of 13, and convicted for the attempted murder of an officer. Due to allegations of him being a schizophrenic, his execution was delayed numerous times, which is why he was put to death decades after his accomplices.
79. Marshall Gore (1988-2013, lethal injection): Gore abducted and murdered two women, 30 year old Robyn Novick and 19 year old Susan Roark. Both women were last seen in his company, and they were raped, beaten, and stabbed to death. He also carjacked 32 year old Tina Coralis while she was driving with her 2 year old son Jimmy. Gore raped Tina, beat her with a rock, slit her throat, dumped her on the side of the road, and drove off with her car while Jimmy was still in it. Tina survived the attack and notified the police about her kidnapped son and stolen car. The police were able to rescue Jimmy unharmed and capture Gore without incident.
80. William Happ (~1980s-2013, lethal injection): Happ dragged 21 year old Angela Crowley out of her own car window in a convenience store parking lot. He anally raped and strangled Crowley to death with her pants. A corner's report mentioned that Crowley received over 20 blows to her head during the assault. Happ had several convictions of armed robbery, one of which pertained to an abduction incident.
81. Darius Kimbrough (1991-2013, lethal injection): Kimbrough climbed into the apartment window of 28 year old Denise Collin with the help of a ladder. He raped and repeatedly slammed her head against the wall. She was found bloodied and nude by the paramedics called to the scene. Collin died of her injuries in the hospital a day after the attack. Her murder went unsolved until samples of Kimbrough’s DNA were collected from another one of his rapes. With the presence of additional pubic hairs found in Collin’s room, at least two other men were also certainly involved, but they remain at large to this day.
82. Thomas Knight (~1960s-2013, lethal injection): Knight began his string of murders by abducting his former employer, 64 year old Sydney Gans, and Sydney's wife, 60 year old Lillian. After her forced them to withdraw $50,000 from their bank accounts, Knight shot the Gans' dead. He was apprehended and, but he managed to escape from jail while awaiting trial. While on the run, Knight gunned down a clerk, 54 year old William Culpepper, while holding up a liquor store, and $640 from the cash register. A month later, Knight was recaptured following an armed standoff with police, and sentenced to death for the Gan killings. On death row, he stabbed a correctional officer, 48 year old Richard Burke, to death with a sharpened spoon over the prison allegedly barring him from seeing his mother. Knight had numerous theft and burglary convictions that date back to when he was 9 years old.
83. Juan Chavez (1995-2014, lethal injection): Chavez accosted 9 year old Jimmy Ryce when the boy was dropped off at a stop by a school bus, and abducted him at gunpoint. He took Ryce to a trailer on his employers' property and raped him. When Ryce tried to signal a passing helicopter for help, Chavez shot him in the back of the head, and muffled his cries as he died. The body was then decapitated and dismembered, and Chavez buried the remains near his trailer.
84. Paul Howell (~1990s-2014, lethal injection): Howell was part of a drug smuggling gang. One of the members had a falling out with the ring and made an agreement with law enforcement to testify against them. Howell constructed a microwave bomb to assassinate the witness in her home, and he assigned an associate to carry out the hit. As he was transporting the bomb to its intended destination, the associate was pulled over and detained by deputies. While being processed, the bomb detonated prematurely, and killed a deputy, 35 year old James Fulford, Jr.
85. Robert Henry (1987-2014, lethal injection): As part of his plan to assault the gas station that he worked at, Henry tricked his co workers, 53 year old Phyllis Harris and 35 year old Janet Thermidor, into thinking that a robber was holding him hostage. He duped the women into allowing themselves to be tied up and gagged, as Henry claimed to them that the fictitious "robber" was forcing him to do it. Both women were beaten with hammers as Henry ransacked the station’s store. After he stole a total of $1,269 from the register, he poured gasoline all over the building, and set it on fire. Thermidor and Harris were burned alive in the blaze and died of their injures, but Thermidor survived long enough to identify Henry as the assailant.
86. Robert Hendrix (1990-2014, lethal injection): To prevent his cousin, 25 year old Elmer Scott Jr., from testifying against him in a then upcoming burglary trail, Hendrix broke into the home that he shared with his wife, 18 year old Susan, with an accomplice. He shot Susan and Elmer, beat them with the butt of his rifle, and slashed their throats. In the case that he was about to be tried for, Elmer and Hendrix burglarized a home together, and Elmer agreed to testify against him in exchange for a reduced sentence.
87. John Henry (~1975-2014, lethal injection): In 1975, Henry got into an argument with his first wife, 28 year old Patricia Roddy, while they were driving with her daughters. Henry pulled over and stabbed Patricia to death in front of her children. After he plead guilty, Henry was given a 15 year sentence for second degree murder, and was released in 1983 after serving 8. Shortly after his release, he married 28 year old Suzanne Overstreet. As what happened with his first wife, he fatally stabbed Suzanne during an argument in 1985. He then took his stepson, 4 year old Eugene Christian, to a chicken farm and stabbed him to death as well. Henry also had several convictions for the possession of drugs and illegal firearms.
88. Eddie Davis (~1980s-2014, lethal injection): Davis kidnapped his ex girlfriend's daughter, 11 year Kimberly Waters, from her home and gagged her with a rag. He took the girl to a trailer that he used to live in, and raped and strangled her to death. His criminal activity before the murder included several arrests for burglary and autotheft.
89. Chadwick Banks (1992-2014, lethal injection): Banks shot his wife, 30 year old Cassandra, in the head while she was sleeping on their couch. He then crept into the room of his stepdaughter, 10 year old Melody Cooper, and sexually assaulted her. Melody was also shot dead during the abuse.
90. Johnny Kormondy (~1989-2014, lethal injection): Kormondy and his two accomplices invaded a house that Gary McAdams, a 38 year old banker, shared with his wife, 38 year old Cecilia. The couple were ambushed after they returned home from a high school reunion. Gary was shot and killed by Kormondy, while Cecilia was forced to orally copulate the other intruders. Several items were stolen in the robbery, but my sources didn’t disclose any specifics. Kormondy had several previous convictions of robberies and auto thefts, and the earliest occurred when he was 14.
91. Jerry Correll (1985-2015, lethal injection): Correll shot and killed his ex wife, 25 year old Susan, their daughter, 5 year old Tuesday, Susan's sister, 29 year old Marybeth Jones, and their mother, 58 year old Mary Lou Hines. All four victims were murdered in a home they shared together.
92. Oscar Bolin (~1977-2015, lethal injection): Bolin was sentenced to death for the abductions and murders of 26 year old Teri Matthews, 25 year old Natalie Holley, and 17 year old Stephanie Collins. All 3 victims were kidnapped while they were getting off from work, raped, and killed in beating and stabbing attacks. He raped and strangled a fourth victim, 30 year old Deborah Stowe, to death in Texas, but wasn't charged due to already facing the death penalty in Florida. Bolin also took part in the non fatal abduction and gang rape of a waitress in Ohio, was charged for kidnapping his girlfriend (which were later dropped by the courts), and had several theft convictions that started when he was 15.
93. Mark Asay (1987-2017, lethal injection): Asay shot and killed a black man, 34 year old Robert Booker, during a racially charged fight that he picked at a bar. After Booker's murder, Asay, his brother, and their friend went cruising for prostitutes. They encountered a cross dressing sex worker, 26 year old Robert McDowell, they were acquainted with and picked him up. McDowell was also shot dead by Asay when they got into an argument over payment for an oral sex act.
94. Michael Lambrix (1983-2017, lethal injection): While intoxicated, Lambrix beat one of his friends, 35 year old Clarence Moore, to death with a tire iron, and fatally strangled another friend, 19 year old Aleisha Bryant, with a t-shirt in their trailer. He was previously arrested for welfare fraud and was detained for an unspecified "unrelated charge" during the murder investigation.
95. Patrick Hannon (1991-2017, lethal injection): 27 year old Brandon Snider vandalized the bedroom of his ex girlfriend while she was away on vacation. The ex girlfriend's brother was friends with Hannon, and he convinced him to launch a revenge attack on Snider with the help of another friend. They broke into Snider's apartment, stabbed him, and slit his throat. Snider's roommate, 28 year old Robert Carter, witnessed the murder, and tried hiding underneath his bed. Hannon dragged Carter out and shot him to death.
96. Eric Branch (1991-2018, lethal injection): In 1993, Branch abducted and carjacked 21 year old Susan Morris. He raped, beat, and strangled her to death, and then buried Morris' body in a shallow grave near a nature trail. Branch used Morris' car to flee back to his native Indiana, but was captured for a traffic violation. A registered sex offender, Branch had previous convictions for sexually abusing a 14 year old girl, and raped an unidentified woman 10 days before Morris' murder.
97. José Jiménez (~1990-2018, lethal injection): Jiménez fatally strangled Marie Debas, a 32 year old French woman who was allegedly in a relationship with a Medellin cartel drug runner, during a burglary of her apartment. Two years later, he burglarized the home of 63 year old Phyllis Minas, and stabbed her to death.
98. Bobby Long (~1990-2018, lethal injection): As the “Classified Ad Rapist”, Long raped over 50 women. He was given that epithet due to contacting and luring his victims through classified ads. After one of his victims sought charges that initially convicted him (though were later dropped on appeals), Long’s pattern of sexual violence escalated to murder. Long murdered at least 10 women and teenage girls between the ages of 18-28 and non fatally assaulted a 33 year old woman, Linda Nuttall, and a 17 year old girl, Lisa McVey. The victims were picked up through hitchhiking, forcibly grabbed while walking alone on streets, or were prostitutes lured with promises of payment for sexual favors. Long’s sparing of his last victim, McVey, provided to be his downfall, as it was her meticulously detailed reports that led law enforcement to him.
99. Gary Bowles (~1970s-2019, lethal injection): Bowles lured 6 men, 72 year old Milton Bradley, 59 year old John Roberts, 47 year old Walter Hinton, 47 year old Alverson, 39 year old David Jarman, and 38 year old Albert Morris by prostituting himself to them. Once a victim was enticed, Bowles strangled them, and stole their credit cards. He also had several convictions for armed robbery, hospitalized his stepfather in his early teens, and served a 6 year prison sentence for sexually assaulting his girlfriend.
100. Donald Dillbeck (~1979-2023, lethal injection): In 1979, Dillbeck stole a car, and was pulled over by a deputy, 31 year old Dwight Hall. After a prolonged chase and scuffle, Dillbeck shot and killed Hall with his own gun. He was then given a life sentence for Hall's murder. Dillbeck escaped from prison in 1990, and stabbed 44 year old Robbie Vann to death while trying to seize her car. The pursuing officers recaptured him shortly after the killing, and he was sentenced to death for Vann's murder.
101. Louis Gaskin (~1986-2023, lethal injection): Gaskin started his burglary spree by breaking into the home of couple, 56 year old Robert and 55 year old Georgette Sturmfels. He shot them both dead, and stole their lamp, VCR set, and some jewelry and money. His second target was a house owned by 38 year old Joseph Rector and his wife Mary (age unknown). Although Gaskin shot Joseph, the couple both managed to escape him with their lives. Due to him wearing a ninja costume as a disguise during the robberies, he was dubbed as the "Ninja Killer" by media outlets. Gaskin also had a few robbery convictions at the time of the murders.
102. Darryl Barwick (1983-2023, lethal injection): Barwick stalked 24 year old Rebecca Wendt as she was sunbathing in a pool, followed her to her apartment, and forced himself inside to rob it. He stabbed Wendt 37 times and raped her. At the age of 16, Barwick had committed a similar act of rape and burglary against an unidentified woman, and was released from prison 3 months before Wendt's murder.
103. Duane Owen (1984-2023, lethal injection): Owen raped 14 year old Karen Slattery while burglarizing a home she was babysitting at, and stabbed her to death. A few months later, Owen burglarized another home owned by 38 year old Georgianna Worden. She was sexually assaulted and fatally beaten with a hammer. He was captured while breaking into another house on the same day, and confessed to Worden and Slattery's murders
104. James Barnes (~1988-2023, lethal injection): In 1988, Barnes invaded the home of 41 year old Patricia Miller, and tied her up with her own shoelaces. She was sexually assaulted, beaten to death with a hammer, and Barnes set her bed on fire to destroy any evidence of the crime. 9 years later, Barnes strangled his estranged wife, 44 year old Linda, to death in her home, and stuffed the body into a closet. He stayed in the house until he was arrested by police officers. Barnes also admitted to the shooting deaths of Chester Wetmore, a 14 year old runaway, and Brenda Fletcher, a 50 year old prostitute, but was never charged for their killings. According to Barnes, he killed both victims for stealing from him.
105. Michael Zack III (1996-2023, lethal injection): Zack befriended two women, 40 year old Laura Rosillo and 31 year old Ravonne Smith, while hanging out at bars. He lured Rosillo to the beach with the promise of drugs, and assaulted her with a tire iron. Rosillo was raped, strangled to death, and he buried her body in a sand dune. A day later, he tricked Smith into letting him inside her house. She was smashed in the head with a glass bottle, raped, and stabbed to death. Zack then fled with her car, television set, VCR, and her purse. On a different note, when he was a child, Zack’s older sister dismembered their mother with an ax over an argument regarding the sister’s boyfriend. He used that story to gain the sympathy of his victims. His sister (who was simply institutionalized rather then incarcerated for the murder) also testified about their stepfather’s alleged abuse of them at his trial, though the prosecutors debunked most of her stories.

I’m on mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues. Trigger warning for upsetting content. I hope this finds its way to the right people someday..
I’m Star, and this is my story
The night I finally decided to tell my story I found true liberation. I had to come to terms that I had 3 out comes I had to be ok with. So following what advice I’d give someone else is either going to be the best thing, worst thing, or most insignificant thing I ever decide to do. I can’t use my past as a crutch or excuse to why I’m not living the life I dreamed of.
I guess I’m in for the worlds biggest reality check.
I had a typical life up until pre k. My family packed up our little trailer in Vacherie, Louisiana and nothing has been the same since. I went from growing up close with both sides of my parents family to almost complete isolation.
My dad was in search to lead his family and give us the best life he could possibly provide. With that honest sentiment he found a group of people that became our new family - and for the majority of my life our only family. Family birthdays slowly turned into fellowships. Summer vacation became going to church in different parts of California. Every Thanksgiving was in the sister church in Texas. The majority of our travel time was going to church to which we already went to 3 times a week. We didn’t celebrate any holidays, I couldn’t participate in team sports at school, go to dances, prom, sleepovers with school friends, wear certain clothing, watch certain movies and tv shows, you know, the typical religious restrictions people may encounter. However, this went deeper.
I grew up in a religious cult. Now that I’m way on the other side of that life, I can finally admit it and not feel guilty. I befriended many people I still have fond memories of. I stayed in contact with a few others that have left. There were good people there and some probably still are. These are people I shared decades of my life with. I used to feel some need to protect them from my truth and what I really thought and felt sitting in those pews. I still have my struggles with this.
I remember many significant events. The founder of the church getting shot was the biggest. We all gathered at the church and got on our knees and prayed. Everyone. It didn’t matter your age. I was primary school aged getting on my knees and calling to Jesus. I mimicked what I saw. This ritual only happened when a major event threatened the church or if someone high up in status was on the brink of death or needed extra prayer. I can only recall 3 times I experienced this first hand. Another memorable event was when the leaders went on CBS to defend the churches from allegations of ‘selling tickets to heaven.’ After all, my entire life we were taught that they were the one and only true followers of Christ and the only people making it to what was called a third heaven.
I submitted as much as a child could to what I learned in the church until puberty. As a preachers daughter, I was always expected to act and carry myself in a certain way. I didn’t feel that lifestyle was how I wanted to spend my one chance at life. School was my salvation from home and church. It was the only time I could be me although I was always a diluted version. I made friends, but of course I could never cultivate those friendships outside of school. There was only so many ‘no’s’ to attending sleepovers, parties and doing activities with the friends I chose for myself that a child could take. I started to secretly reject what had become a huge chunk of my life.
There were so many unspoken rules you knew to follow. No piercings, no tattoos, no loud colored haifingernails, no consumption of alcohol, you couldn’t consume worldly music or media, if you saw someone that left it was an unspoken rule not to engage with them and rampent homophobia; which I discovered was typical with similar religious practices and/or followed the King James Version of the bible.
But wait, there’s more!
You couldn’t show your shoulders, wear heels over a certain height, skirts and dresses had to be a certain length. I wore shorts in secret or only at my home. You could only marry and date within the church. If you found someone not in the church you like, you had to bring them in or the relationship would be frowned upon. You had to get married there, do your marriage counseling with the ministry, your dress had to cover your shoulders, your bridal party was your selection out of the sisters and brothers and your reception was in the dining hall at the church. Women couldn’t sit on the first pew at church or wear pants. At the time Facebook was the only allowed social media but your posts were watched. I found myself ‘in the office’ many times towards the end of my time there because of social media. If you wanted to make big purchases you had to have an audience with the ministry first. It was a tight knit community. It was a self sufficient community. It was a community that other people have told their stories about and we were told they were just people taking revenge on the church. The family had to stick together and draw others into the church to save more people so they had a chance for eternal life. There were accusations that many women were forced to get abortions to remain part of the ‘body of Christ’ they told us these allegations were lies. When you’ve been taught and controlled your whole life to eat whatever they feed you, you are obeditent and don’t ask questions. Plus why would my story change anything? Others before me spoke out. Some were silenced, some stories were buried and with that I just kept quiet. I have so many accounts about this church that I need to let go of. A religious relationship with life may work for some and that should be respected; personally it didn’t resonate with the person I want to be. I don’t want to sensationalize this piece of my life it is what it is; it was what it was. I don’t want to leave a door open for my past to feel welcome to my present. To this day I still have nightmares about my family and I being stuck there or going back voluntarily.
I wasn’t allowed to just leave the church and stop coming. How would that look if a preacher couldn’t control his own daugther? The mixture of teenage angst, middle child syndrome, and bipolar depression came together to create the perfect storm -but- in this storm Star was born. The only control I had over my life was through writing. As a teen I rarely left my room. It was me, my guitar, books, music and the magic of movies that kept me as sane as someone in my situation could be. Star became her own entity. She was my salvation in separating my reailty to a dream world so Theresa could survive. Every now and then she had to take over. If I couldn’t leave, I had to find a way out by more drastic measures. It started with pretending to be sick every now and then or purposely waiting to do my homework during church services so I could sit in a back room instead of pretending to take notes and be engaged in the services. This wasn’t enough for me long term so I had to up the ante. I fell into a cycle of self harm. I remember one damn near successful suicide attempt. When I was in the hospital only the ministry was allowed to see me. They told me when I got out the hospital, they would call me into the office to talk about why I did what I did. I never felt such dread and I wished I was dead in that moment. I saw the way it broke my mothers heart to see me in that position. I never attempted suicide again no matter how much I felt I wanted to escape my life. I spent about 2 weeks in a behavioral facility and to be honest, I never felt more free at the time. Unfortunately, back to church I still had to go. I came up with a plan that would change my trajectory permanently. I had to get myself kicked out of the church.
In the world of alternative modeling I found a community that became my new universe and my ticket to freedom. It’s because of this community I can even tell my story. I began posting risqué photos and I went all in with nude modeling. When this was discovered, I got called into the office one last time. I remember being asked if that the type of content I made me feel good about myself and that question made to feel so small. It felt like my own David and Goliath story when I spoke up and said, “yes, it does.” I believe this was the first time I ever didn’t let my fear decide my fate. I wanted to do what I wanted, how I wanted and when I want to do it. I didn’t want to care what anyone thought of me. I didn’t want to follow a lifestyle that sucked the life out of me. It’s this mindset that took years to come to its peak to practice what I preach. Little me always wanted to sing and put on a show. She wanted to make music. She wanted to create movies. She wanted to make people laugh and smile. She wanted to voice characters on her favorite tv shows. She wanted to explore and experience everything life had to offer even if she was always taught the world has nothing and it would just eat you up and spit you out. But I would choose to be digested by the world over and over again before I waste my time bound to the expectations of others. If I knew then what I know now, I would tell myself go be that theater kid, go audition for movies follow your true passions instead of making choices out of necessity to have a typical life. I often wonder who I would’ve been if I lived a different life. A normal life.
Now here I am ready to, for once, truly try doing what my inner child always dreamed of. I have so many songs that need to find a home and I’m doing that by following the only formula I know- bearing my soul and putting myself out there. I’m currently working on updating old lyrics and creating new songs so I can contact people to collaborate with. I’ve never been one for reality, so of course I have to do this my way. It’s time to stop telling myself that it’s too late and coming up with excuses to avoid the inevitably of failure. I was stuck in the societal mindset that you had to achieve everything in your 20s. There’s already failure in not trying. Of course I have no clue where or how to start with my limited experience and resources. I was gonna be that crazy person to walk in any and every record company and have them read my songs. Of course the industry doesn’t work that way, and why would it for me? I’m nothing special. Every artist feels their work will touch someone out there. Maybe nothing will come from this, maybe I’ll get to work with local artists or maybe my works will just find success in being posted here for few to read.
Since writing my initial story, I have yet again evolved. If I was going to go down this road I had to do things the right way and build a strong foundation from scratch. While learning how to navigate the unknown I found someone who elevated my mindset. The world connected me with vocal coach, Jeanetta, who turned my world upside down in the best way. I went from discovering I’ve been singing wrong my whole life to being able to write essays on how much I learned about proper singing techniques and from only wanting to write for others to constructing my own projects and concepts. She’s been my mentor in helping me unlock parts of me that I didn’t know were there and parts of me I’ve forgotten existed. I’ve been down a rabbit hole of crafting my sound and uncovering my voice. I could go off on a tangent about the excitement this journey has brought to me. I’ve made a few demos and dived in head first networking with whoever wants to share their knowledge with me. I had to realize nothing about my path is “normal” and I need to stop dimming myself to blend in common spaces. I’m never going to know normalcy. I can only find people who share a similar vision and will accept me as I am. I’m just going to keep going until I find them or they find me. Either way- I’m going to find out if it’s possible to fly with clipped wings.

Live Music

• Joshua "Tennessee" Worthy, Mill Top Tavern, 12:00 pm – 4:00 pm
• Cliff Dorsey, Pierre's Pub, 1:00 pm – 5:00 pm
• Mike Cook, Backyard Island Cafe at Meehan's, 1:00 pm – 5:00 pm
• ZaZa Flamenca, Bin 39 Wine Bar, 1:00 pm – 4:00 pm
• Mark Evans, Fish House & Oyster Co., 5:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Sue Seymour Westcott, The Tides Oyster Co. & Grill, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• David Watt Besley, The Tides Oyster Co. & Grill, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• House Cats, Marina Munch, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Dewey Via, Backyard Island Cafe at Meehan's, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Aaron Esposito, Embassy Suites by Hilton, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Ace Winn, DJ's Clam Shack, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Claire Vandiver, Guy Harvey Resort, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Bret Blackshear, Crabby's Beachside, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Wes Register, Mellow Mushroom — St. Johns, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Christian Powers, Mellow Mushroom — Anastasia Island, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• King Eddie and the Pili Pili, The Cellar Upstairs Wine Bar & Restaurant, 6:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• Walt Kulwicki, Oasis Deck & Restaurant, 6:00 pm – 9:30 pm
• Duffy Bishop Band, Fuzion 904 Eatery, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Green With Envy, Pierre's Pub, 6:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• Allen Arena, Hurricane Patty's Bar and Grill, 6:00 pm – 9:30 pm
• One Good Ring, 7:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• ZaZa Flamenca, River & Fort, 7:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• Dave's Not Here or Jerry's Other Hand, A1A Ale Works, 8:00 pm – 12:00 am
• Kyra Livingston, Meehan's Irish Pub & Seafood House, 8:00 pm – 12:00 am
• Vegas Gray, Tradewinds Lounge, 9:00 pm – 1:00 am
• Alan Dalton and Terry Campbell, Mill Top Tavern, , 9:00 pm – 12:00 am

First Coast Opera: The Stranger's Tale

• First Coast Opera and the Romanza Festivale present a free performance of The Stranger's Tale, on Friday, May 17, 2024, at noon, at the Ancient City Baptist Church.
• Funded in part by the Romanza Festivale of the Arts and by the National Endowment for the Arts, this opera premiered in 2005 with an original libretto by Nelson Sheeley. First Coast Opera's Artistic Director, Curtis Tucker, wrote additional music for the production.
• escribed as a "story of faith and hope," and written as a companion piece to Stravinsky's L'historie du soldat (A Soldier's Tail,) The Stranger's Tale focuses on modern homelessness and its impact on the unhoused and their communities. Using drama and music, set in a park near a park bench, the entire piece is centered on an unnamed man who is experiencing homelessness.
• At the 2005 premiere, reviewers said that the writing was sincere, the music accessible, and that it was a hit with the audience.
• Admission: Free
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024 at noon.
• Where: Ancient City Baptist Church, 27 Sevilla Street, St. Augustine, Florida.
• First Coast Opera will accept donations at this event to benefit the Homeless Coalition of St. Johns County.
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 3 -19, the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Romanza Festivale: Author Visit with Elizabeth Randall

• Elizabeth Randall, freelance writer, and author of six non-fiction books and one mystery, will visit with fans and writers at the Voorhees Mission building at St. Cyprians Episcopal Church on Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:00 p.m. This event, presented by Romanza Festivale, will include wine, cheese, and conversation.
• A retired English teacher, Ms. Randall is an adjunct instructor in English composition at Seminole State College in Sanford. Two of Ms. Randall's non-fiction books feature events in St. Augustine. At this event, Ms. Randall will focus on Murder in St. Augustine, the Mysterious Death of Athalia Ponsell Lindsley. This murder, in 1974, is still discussed and debated among St. Augustine residents.
• Admission: Free.When: Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:00 p.m.
• Where: In the Voorhees Mission House (on the grounds of St. Cyprians Episcopal Church) at 130 Martin Luther King Avenue, St. Augustine, Florida 32084.
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 3 -19, the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Before Juneteenth: Emancipations in Florida

• In 1865, 11 days after the end of the Civil War, two years after President Abraham Lincoln's Proclamation, emancipation * was proclaimed in Florida. On Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:30 p.m., the Lincolnville Museum and Cultural Heritage Center (LMCHC) hosts an event to explain and discuss emancipation in Florida.
• The afternoon will begin with a short documentary, Before Juneteenth: Emancipations in Florida. This documentary is being presented in several Florida communities this season, and Regina Gayle Phillips, LMCHC's executive director is featured in the film. There will be a virtual question and answer session after the viewing with Dr. Tameka Hobbs, Charlene Farrington, Dinizulu Gene Tinnie, and Brittany Flowers.
• Dr. Hobbs, from Fort Lauderdale, is a historian, educator, and activist
• Ms. Farringtion is the museum director of the Spady Cultural Heritage Museum in Delray Beach
• Mr. Tinnie, of Miami, is an artist, educator, and activist
• Brittany Flowers is a filmmaker.
• Admission: $10.00 per person. When: Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:30 p.m.
• Where: Upstairs, at the Lincolnville Museum and Cultural Heritage Center, 102 Martin Luther King Avenue, St. Augustine, Florida 32084.
• Free parking is available in the front and back of the building and paid parking is available at a lot across Martin Luther King Avenue. The entrance to the second-floor room is off Pomar Street. There is an elevator.

St. Augustine Concert Band Season Finale

• The St. Augustine Concert Band will perform their season finale concert from 7:30 to 9:00 p.m. Friday, May 17, 2024, in the Center of the Arts at R.J. Murray Middle School.
• This season finale concert, "Imagination," will feature works from modern-day prominent composers. Composers Brian Balmages, Dakota Peterson, Todd Salter, and others have all written thought-provoking, challenging, and moving compositions. * The concert will take the audience on a journey of imagination, allowing them to experience the power and emotion in each work.
• First established in the early 1900s with a small military-style band of some 16 members, the acclaimed St. Augustine Concert Band now features about 70 performers, from amateurs to students and semi-professionals, all from the surrounding area.
• Admission: Tickets are $20.00 for adults and $5.00 for students with ID. Children under age 12 are free.When: 7:30 to 9:00 p.m. Friday, May 17, 2024
• Where: R.J. Murray Middle School: Center of the Arts, 150 North Holmes Boulevard, St. Augustine, Florida 32092
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival consisting of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 4 through May 19, 2024, the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Megan Moroney at The Amp

• The St. Augustine Amphitheatre welcomes Megan Moroney on Friday, May 17, 2024, at 7:30 p.m. Doors open at 6:00 p.m.
• Hailing from Georgia, country music artist Megan Moroney is steadily climbing the industry ladder. "Tennessee Orange" earned her a prestigious award at the Country Music Television Awards. "I'm Not Pretty" achieved notable success, reaching the top 40 on the Billboard chart while capturing the hearts of fans and country music enthusiasts.
• Acknowledged by Rolling Stone for her natural talent, Megan consistently shares her music across multiple streaming platforms.
• Admission: Ticket prices range from $29.50 to $54.50. Tickets can be purchased online or at the St. Augustine Amphitheatre Box Office, which is open on Thursdays and Fridays from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. and on Saturdays from 8:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024, at 7:30 p.m. Doors open at 6:00 p.m.
• Where: St. Augustine Amphitheatre is located at 1340 A1A South in St. Augustine, Florida 32080.
• Parking Information: The Amp St. Augustine is located on Anastasia Island next to Anastasia State Park. Limited paid parking is available in The Amp's Main Lot, but only with advance purchase of a Premium Parking ticket. Free satellite parking areas are located within one mile of the Amphitheatre, at R.B. Hunt Elementary and at Anastasia State Park (see map below).
• Shuttle Information: The St. Augustine Amphitheatre shuttle system begins its run 45 minutes before show time. The shuttle will pick up event patrons at four designated shuttle stops: the R.B. Hunt Elementary School Soccer Field, the west entrance of the Anastasia State Park Main Parking Lot, the Loop at the Anastasia State Park, and the entrance of the St. Augustine Amphitheatre. To see the full shuttle route, please see the map below.
• Shuttles will run continuously until approximately 45 minutes after the scheduled start time of a concert. For anyone wanting to leave before the end of a show, shuttles will begin taking people back to the satellite parking areas one hour before the event is over. The driver will not depart The Amp until the shuttle is more than 50% full.

Romanza Festivale: Con Brio

• The Romanza Festivale presents the Con Brio String Quartet on Friday, May 17, 2024, at 7:30 p.m. This internationally acclaimed string quartet will perform in a free concert at the First United Methodist Church on King Street.
• The four talented performers, Valentin Mansurov and Marina Lenau on violin, David Pedraza on viola, and Aziz Sapaev on cello, are all based in Southeast Florida. Members of the quartet are from Russia, Uzbekistan, Mexico, and Ukraine, each has received competitive awards and scholarships, and each performs in several of the area's music ensembles.
• "Con Brio" means "with panache," and it is with panache that this talented and multicultural quartet brings their skills, energy, and worldliness to every concert. One of the headliner acts for 2024, the concert on May 17th will include works from great composers.
• Admission: Free
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024, from 7:30 to 9:00 p.m.
• Where: First United Methodist Church, 118 King Street, St. Augustine 32084
• A Romanza Festivale 2024 event.
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival consisting of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 3 -19, 2024 the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Dustin Sims at Cafe Eleven

• Café Eleven welcomes Dustin Sims on Friday, May 17, 2024, at 8:00 p.m. Doors open at 7:00 p.m.
• With a massive following and a knack for humor, comedian Dustin Sims continues to captivate audiences unapologetically. Originating from Oxford, Alabama, Sims swiftly became a beloved figure, renowned for his comedic sketches that chronicle his eccentric escapades and misadventures.
• Among his standout sketches are "Talkin' to Myself," "Wives Love to Be Right," "Best Funeral," and "My Kids Don't Do Mornings."
• Admission: VIP Tickets cost $45.00 if purchased in advance and $50.00 on the day of the show. General seating tickets cost $32.00 in advance and $35.00 on the day of the show. Purchase tickets in advance online or purchase them at Café Eleven on the day of the show.
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024, at 8:00 p.m. Doors open at 7:00 p.m.
• Where: Café Eleven, 501 A1A Beach Blvd, St. Augustine, Florida 32080. On the corner of A1A and 11th Street, one block from St. Augustine Beach.

Sampoorna Hatha Yoga and Japa Meditation at Essential Energy Spa

• Every Friday, starting March15th
• Essential Energy Spa
• 3440 U.S. 1 S, Suite 202
• St. Augustine, FL 32086
• 10 am - 11 am
• Admission: $25

2025 Pin Up Paws Calendar Contest

• May 17 @ 12:00 am - 11:59 pm
• It’s that time of year! The St. Augustine Humane Society Annual Contest for the 2025 Pin Up Paws Calendar begins at 8:00am on May 1, 2024. The “Sweet Things” themed calendar will showcase the winning pets in all their adorableness.
• Submit a photo of your pet and start rooting for votes, each vote worth $1.00. Voting is May 1, 2024 at 8:00am through Saturday, July 13, 2024 at 8:00pm. And, you can vote as many times and for as many pets as you wish!
• The Pet with the most votes becomes the cover pet for the 2025 Sweet Things calendar. The next twelve pets with the next highest amount of votes will be a monthly pin up pet. All pets will enjoy a professional photo shoot with award-winning photographer Addison Fitzgerald.
• Prizes: *First-Place pet (along with being on the cover) also receives a $100.00 gift certificate to the Columbia Restaurant, two tickets to the Pin Up Paws Party, and two copies of the calendar. *Second-place winners receive a $50.00 Columbia Restaurant Gift
• Certificate and two calendars. *Twelve runners-up will be featured with their submission photos and a description. *The top 80 pet fundraisers will have a small photo on a collage page.
• The 2025 calendar will be revealed at the Pin Up Paws Party on Thursday, October 24, 2024 at The White Room.
• Date: May 17
• Time: 12:00 am - 11:59 pm

I am unable to post the sources because they are getting flagged as spam since they are all similar in name. So please visit this site for the list.
Written out urls here tinyurl.com/yjkw32kd

For future events please visit the Discord.

https://discord.gg/NG4eZSWAgR

Live Music

• Joshua "Tennessee" Worthy, Mill Top Tavern, 12:00 pm – 4:00 pm
• Cliff Dorsey, Pierre's Pub, 1:00 pm – 5:00 pm
• Mike Cook, Backyard Island Cafe at Meehan's, 1:00 pm – 5:00 pm
• ZaZa Flamenca, Bin 39 Wine Bar, 1:00 pm – 4:00 pm
• Mark Evans, Fish House & Oyster Co., 5:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Sue Seymour Westcott, The Tides Oyster Co. & Grill, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• David Watt Besley, The Tides Oyster Co. & Grill, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• House Cats, Marina Munch, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Dewey Via, Backyard Island Cafe at Meehan's, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Aaron Esposito, Embassy Suites by Hilton, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Ace Winn, DJ's Clam Shack, 5:00 pm – 8:00 pm
• Claire Vandiver, Guy Harvey Resort, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Bret Blackshear, Crabby's Beachside, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Wes Register, Mellow Mushroom — St. Johns, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Christian Powers, Mellow Mushroom — Anastasia Island, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• King Eddie and the Pili Pili, The Cellar Upstairs Wine Bar & Restaurant, 6:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• Walt Kulwicki, Oasis Deck & Restaurant, 6:00 pm – 9:30 pm
• Duffy Bishop Band, Fuzion 904 Eatery, 6:00 pm – 9:00 pm
• Green With Envy, Pierre's Pub, 6:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• Allen Arena, Hurricane Patty's Bar and Grill, 6:00 pm – 9:30 pm
• One Good Ring, 7:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• ZaZa Flamenca, River & Fort, 7:00 pm – 10:00 pm
• Dave's Not Here or Jerry's Other Hand, A1A Ale Works, 8:00 pm – 12:00 am
• Kyra Livingston, Meehan's Irish Pub & Seafood House, 8:00 pm – 12:00 am
• Vegas Gray, Tradewinds Lounge, 9:00 pm – 1:00 am
• Alan Dalton and Terry Campbell, Mill Top Tavern, , 9:00 pm – 12:00 am

First Coast Opera: The Stranger's Tale

• First Coast Opera and the Romanza Festivale present a free performance of The Stranger's Tale, on Friday, May 17, 2024, at noon, at the Ancient City Baptist Church.
• Funded in part by the Romanza Festivale of the Arts and by the National Endowment for the Arts, this opera premiered in 2005 with an original libretto by Nelson Sheeley. First Coast Opera's Artistic Director, Curtis Tucker, wrote additional music for the production.
• escribed as a "story of faith and hope," and written as a companion piece to Stravinsky's L'historie du soldat (A Soldier's Tail,) The Stranger's Tale focuses on modern homelessness and its impact on the unhoused and their communities. Using drama and music, set in a park near a park bench, the entire piece is centered on an unnamed man who is experiencing homelessness.
• At the 2005 premiere, reviewers said that the writing was sincere, the music accessible, and that it was a hit with the audience.
• Admission: Free
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024 at noon.
• Where: Ancient City Baptist Church, 27 Sevilla Street, St. Augustine, Florida.
• First Coast Opera will accept donations at this event to benefit the Homeless Coalition of St. Johns County.
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 3 -19, the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Romanza Festivale: Author Visit with Elizabeth Randall

• Elizabeth Randall, freelance writer, and author of six non-fiction books and one mystery, will visit with fans and writers at the Voorhees Mission building at St. Cyprians Episcopal Church on Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:00 p.m. This event, presented by Romanza Festivale, will include wine, cheese, and conversation.
• A retired English teacher, Ms. Randall is an adjunct instructor in English composition at Seminole State College in Sanford. Two of Ms. Randall's non-fiction books feature events in St. Augustine. At this event, Ms. Randall will focus on Murder in St. Augustine, the Mysterious Death of Athalia Ponsell Lindsley. This murder, in 1974, is still discussed and debated among St. Augustine residents.
• Admission: Free.When: Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:00 p.m.
• Where: In the Voorhees Mission House (on the grounds of St. Cyprians Episcopal Church) at 130 Martin Luther King Avenue, St. Augustine, Florida 32084.
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 3 -19, the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Before Juneteenth: Emancipations in Florida

• In 1865, 11 days after the end of the Civil War, two years after President Abraham Lincoln's Proclamation, emancipation * was proclaimed in Florida. On Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:30 p.m., the Lincolnville Museum and Cultural Heritage Center (LMCHC) hosts an event to explain and discuss emancipation in Florida.
• The afternoon will begin with a short documentary, Before Juneteenth: Emancipations in Florida. This documentary is being presented in several Florida communities this season, and Regina Gayle Phillips, LMCHC's executive director is featured in the film. There will be a virtual question and answer session after the viewing with Dr. Tameka Hobbs, Charlene Farrington, Dinizulu Gene Tinnie, and Brittany Flowers.
• Dr. Hobbs, from Fort Lauderdale, is a historian, educator, and activist
• Ms. Farringtion is the museum director of the Spady Cultural Heritage Museum in Delray Beach
• Mr. Tinnie, of Miami, is an artist, educator, and activist
• Brittany Flowers is a filmmaker.
• Admission: $10.00 per person. When: Friday, May 17, 2024, from 3:00 to 4:30 p.m.
• Where: Upstairs, at the Lincolnville Museum and Cultural Heritage Center, 102 Martin Luther King Avenue, St. Augustine, Florida 32084.
• Free parking is available in the front and back of the building and paid parking is available at a lot across Martin Luther King Avenue. The entrance to the second-floor room is off Pomar Street. There is an elevator.

St. Augustine Concert Band Season Finale

• The St. Augustine Concert Band will perform their season finale concert from 7:30 to 9:00 p.m. Friday, May 17, 2024, in the Center of the Arts at R.J. Murray Middle School.
• This season finale concert, "Imagination," will feature works from modern-day prominent composers. Composers Brian Balmages, Dakota Peterson, Todd Salter, and others have all written thought-provoking, challenging, and moving compositions. * The concert will take the audience on a journey of imagination, allowing them to experience the power and emotion in each work.
• First established in the early 1900s with a small military-style band of some 16 members, the acclaimed St. Augustine Concert Band now features about 70 performers, from amateurs to students and semi-professionals, all from the surrounding area.
• Admission: Tickets are $20.00 for adults and $5.00 for students with ID. Children under age 12 are free.When: 7:30 to 9:00 p.m. Friday, May 17, 2024
• Where: R.J. Murray Middle School: Center of the Arts, 150 North Holmes Boulevard, St. Augustine, Florida 32092
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival consisting of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 4 through May 19, 2024, the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Megan Moroney at The Amp

• The St. Augustine Amphitheatre welcomes Megan Moroney on Friday, May 17, 2024, at 7:30 p.m. Doors open at 6:00 p.m.
• Hailing from Georgia, country music artist Megan Moroney is steadily climbing the industry ladder. "Tennessee Orange" earned her a prestigious award at the Country Music Television Awards. "I'm Not Pretty" achieved notable success, reaching the top 40 on the Billboard chart while capturing the hearts of fans and country music enthusiasts.
• Acknowledged by Rolling Stone for her natural talent, Megan consistently shares her music across multiple streaming platforms.
• Admission: Ticket prices range from $29.50 to $54.50. Tickets can be purchased online or at the St. Augustine Amphitheatre Box Office, which is open on Thursdays and Fridays from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. and on Saturdays from 8:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024, at 7:30 p.m. Doors open at 6:00 p.m.
• Where: St. Augustine Amphitheatre is located at 1340 A1A South in St. Augustine, Florida 32080.
• Parking Information: The Amp St. Augustine is located on Anastasia Island next to Anastasia State Park. Limited paid parking is available in The Amp's Main Lot, but only with advance purchase of a Premium Parking ticket. Free satellite parking areas are located within one mile of the Amphitheatre, at R.B. Hunt Elementary and at Anastasia State Park (see map below).
• Shuttle Information: The St. Augustine Amphitheatre shuttle system begins its run 45 minutes before show time. The shuttle will pick up event patrons at four designated shuttle stops: the R.B. Hunt Elementary School Soccer Field, the west entrance of the Anastasia State Park Main Parking Lot, the Loop at the Anastasia State Park, and the entrance of the St. Augustine Amphitheatre. To see the full shuttle route, please see the map below.
• Shuttles will run continuously until approximately 45 minutes after the scheduled start time of a concert. For anyone wanting to leave before the end of a show, shuttles will begin taking people back to the satellite parking areas one hour before the event is over. The driver will not depart The Amp until the shuttle is more than 50% full.

Romanza Festivale: Con Brio

• The Romanza Festivale presents the Con Brio String Quartet on Friday, May 17, 2024, at 7:30 p.m. This internationally acclaimed string quartet will perform in a free concert at the First United Methodist Church on King Street.
• The four talented performers, Valentin Mansurov and Marina Lenau on violin, David Pedraza on viola, and Aziz Sapaev on cello, are all based in Southeast Florida. Members of the quartet are from Russia, Uzbekistan, Mexico, and Ukraine, each has received competitive awards and scholarships, and each performs in several of the area's music ensembles.
• "Con Brio" means "with panache," and it is with panache that this talented and multicultural quartet brings their skills, energy, and worldliness to every concert. One of the headliner acts for 2024, the concert on May 17th will include works from great composers.
• Admission: Free
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024, from 7:30 to 9:00 p.m.
• Where: First United Methodist Church, 118 King Street, St. Augustine 32084
• A Romanza Festivale 2024 event.
• This event is part of the Romanza Festivale of Music and the Arts, an annual festival consisting of two weeks of historical, cultural, and creative events celebrating all things St. Augustine. From May 3 -19, 2024 the nation's oldest city will be jam-packed with music and dance concerts, living history events and historical tours, live theater, and art exhibits.

Dustin Sims at Cafe Eleven

• Café Eleven welcomes Dustin Sims on Friday, May 17, 2024, at 8:00 p.m. Doors open at 7:00 p.m.
• With a massive following and a knack for humor, comedian Dustin Sims continues to captivate audiences unapologetically. Originating from Oxford, Alabama, Sims swiftly became a beloved figure, renowned for his comedic sketches that chronicle his eccentric escapades and misadventures.
• Among his standout sketches are "Talkin' to Myself," "Wives Love to Be Right," "Best Funeral," and "My Kids Don't Do Mornings."
• Admission: VIP Tickets cost $45.00 if purchased in advance and $50.00 on the day of the show. General seating tickets cost $32.00 in advance and $35.00 on the day of the show. Purchase tickets in advance online or purchase them at Café Eleven on the day of the show.
• When: Friday, May 17, 2024, at 8:00 p.m. Doors open at 7:00 p.m.
• Where: Café Eleven, 501 A1A Beach Blvd, St. Augustine, Florida 32080. On the corner of A1A and 11th Street, one block from St. Augustine Beach.

Sampoorna Hatha Yoga and Japa Meditation at Essential Energy Spa

• Every Friday, starting March15th
• Essential Energy Spa
• 3440 U.S. 1 S, Suite 202
• St. Augustine, FL 32086
• 10 am - 11 am
• Admission: $25

2025 Pin Up Paws Calendar Contest

• May 17 @ 12:00 am - 11:59 pm
• It’s that time of year! The St. Augustine Humane Society Annual Contest for the 2025 Pin Up Paws Calendar begins at 8:00am on May 1, 2024. The “Sweet Things” themed calendar will showcase the winning pets in all their adorableness.
• Submit a photo of your pet and start rooting for votes, each vote worth $1.00. Voting is May 1, 2024 at 8:00am through Saturday, July 13, 2024 at 8:00pm. And, you can vote as many times and for as many pets as you wish!
• The Pet with the most votes becomes the cover pet for the 2025 Sweet Things calendar. The next twelve pets with the next highest amount of votes will be a monthly pin up pet. All pets will enjoy a professional photo shoot with award-winning photographer Addison Fitzgerald.
• Prizes: *First-Place pet (along with being on the cover) also receives a $100.00 gift certificate to the Columbia Restaurant, two tickets to the Pin Up Paws Party, and two copies of the calendar. *Second-place winners receive a $50.00 Columbia Restaurant Gift
• Certificate and two calendars. *Twelve runners-up will be featured with their submission photos and a description. *The top 80 pet fundraisers will have a small photo on a collage page.
• The 2025 calendar will be revealed at the Pin Up Paws Party on Thursday, October 24, 2024 at The White Room.
• Date: May 17
• Time: 12:00 am - 11:59 pm

I am unable to post the sources because they are getting flagged as spam since they are all similar in name. So please visit this site for the list.
Written out urls here tinyurl.com/yjkw32kd

For future events please visit the Discord.

https://discord.gg/NG4eZSWAgR

What exactly is our management still smoking to believe in this fraud Malodu? Not a single proper Indian talent scouted apart from Patidar. Look at MI, how robust their scouting has been. They got some 25 scouts if I'm not wrong. Most talents they scout turn out to be very successful. Many other teams manage to produce a great Indian talent every year like Jurel, Jitesh Sharma, Ramandeep, Wadhera, Shashank Singh, Ashutosh, Abhishek Sharma, Pathirana (Not even Indian), Sai Sudharshan and what not I can go on and on...
Like how is the management so f**king blind? Don't they ever have a round table to discuss? Does Malodu have their nudes? This guy was the same one who said Karnataka does not have any good talents and left Kaverappa, Abhinav Manohar, R Samarth. I agree Karnataka isn't producing talents in recent times like it used to, but Karnataka players would have some passion towards RCB, their own team. Forget about Karnataka players, who else apart from Patidar has come well for this team in the last 5 years? None!

It was late November 2015. I was 51 and one year past my divorce (which was not related to cheating) when I became so disgusted with myself that I knew I had to pick myself up. I was alone for the long holiday, and although I wasn't really sad or lonely, I felt empty. However, I had some extra time to consider how does one picks oneself up.
I made a list of potential New Year resolutions that were individually realistic. Some were really easy and stupid like “have your chipped front tooth fixed” and “take & post a selfie”. These smaller tasks fueled my confidence and provided the energy boosts needed to tackle the more challenging resolutions, like starting a weight loss challenge at work.
Skip ahead to March 4th 2016. I had a Friday lunch date with a married client that I met two weeks prior. Of course, it was not a real date, as I wouldn't impose myself on a married woman, nor would I risk my career or my ego, especially if the signals she seemed to be sending were just a product of my wishful thinking, stimulated by checking off some boxes on the list on the fridge dated 1/1/16.
The following is my thank you note to her for a great date as well as for helping me check a lot of boxes over the past few weeks. I sent her a link to it as it is in the form of my first ever online post (one more check box, YAY!).
************************************** We were only 1 minute in the hotel room; her jeans in a ball on the floor. She sat at the foot of the king sized bed and backed her way into the stack of oversized pillows lining the headboard. I followed as If attached by a leash. I landed somewhat awkwardly on my elbows between her legs finding myself squarely face to face with the tattoo. This tattoo, that she so shamelessly revealed just a week ago, the same tattoo that has been scorching my thoughts and the same tattoo that she promised me complete and unlimited access.
It’s been a long time since I have been here or anywhere near as nice as here, between the legs of a beautiful woman 20 years younger and far out of my league....even when I was her age. I took a second to drink in my fortunate situation. I admired her panties. All day I was so hoping she would wear those same panties as before. She didn’t. These were different but similar enough. The delicate lace and silk perfectly framed the tattoo on her hip. She did not disappoint. There is a fruity jasmine scent, intoxicatingly pleasant, and oh so subtle. It is not here. I’ll need to find its source. I want more of that. (I remember being thoroughly impressed and thinking to myself “This girl is good”.)
I briefly forgot that there was someone else here besides myself and the tattoo. How long have I been down here perving out on her? I wondered. I hesitated, and then apologetically looked up half expecting a well-deserved snarky glare. What I found instead was an ear to ear compassionate smile followed by a tilt of her head and an arch of her eyebrow that said “I like that you like that, carry on”.
With confidence restored that we were still in sync, I adjusted myself so that I was in a good position to thoroughly enjoy what I came to do. I kissed the tattoo hard and gave it a good lick. The challenge for today was “Taste the Tattoo” and I won. I did a small celebration gesture that she rolled her eyes to. I continued to kiss and taste all around until every freckle got some personal attention. As I got to the upper most reaches of her inner thighs, I looked up to check in as I was about to cross a new line. For the first time she was not looking back at me but had laid her head back deep into the pillows, her eyes closed. I took that as a yes!
I marveled at the softness of her inner thighs on my cheeks as I gently placed kisses up one and down the other. As I kissed her through her panties, her hips responded by arching her up in anticipation of each next kiss. Before long, those wonderful panties were just getting in the way. I stopped and pondered whether to just slide them aside or remove them or to risk interrupting the mood and attempt a complete wardrobe removal as we were both still fully dressed except for her jeans.
I didn’t have to ponder long as she knew what she wanted and it was not any of the options I was considering. Still lying back with her head semi submerged within the pillows, she held out her arms as if gesturing for a hug. I moved up her body and when I got close enough she pulled me in for a kiss.
Unbelievably, this was our first kiss. I found it odd that we had not kissed yet and was grateful she thought to stop for a moment to have a kiss. We kissed some and then I settled in to thoroughly enjoy it. However, the kiss to come was not the kiss I was expecting or a kiss I was ready for. It was a kiss that could ruin everything.
Technically, there was one kiss before. It was an awkward kiss 5-10 minutes earlier just after we entered the room. All in about the time it took for the hotel door to close behind us, she tossed her bag on the sofa, had her jewelry off and set on the nightstand while I emptied my pockets and silenced my phone.
We approached each other, and as we met I was looking at the place where the tattoo would be under her shirt and behind her jeans. They were higher cut and could not be pulled down that far to get to the tattoo. They would have to come off. To just reach in and do that would be an uncharacteristically bold move for me. But I did have unquestionable permission to have the tattoo in any way that I desired. I reached down with both hands and took hold of the waistband on each side of the button. I didn’t see her simultaneous move in at me at first. Just as I felt the metal of the button, I felt her reaching her arms around my neck and realized that she was tip toeing up for a kiss. It caught me unexpectedly and I think it showed on my face that it did. I tried to recover and moved back in to accept her lips on to mine but it turned into an awkward peck.
I scolded myself for the selfish moment and just as I was trying to formulate a recovery gesture, she, without missing a beat, gently dismissed my fumble and gracefully restored the momentum. “Oh” she said with surprise in her tone, while looking down at my fingers ready to release her button. Then, in a more playfully quizzical tone, she followed with “I guess you want to get right to THAT then” and she stepped back away from me where I lost grip of her jeans. She replaced my fingers on the button with hers, paused, maybe waiting for me to look up to her eyes, which I finally did, then flashed me a devilishly naughty smile and pulled her jeans down to the top of her boots. She then proudly announced, mostly to herself, “You really are going to let me have fun with you, aren’t you!” seemingly shedding any doubts in her mind that I would go through with this. She then sat at the foot of the all white linen king sized bed, removed her boots and jeans and backed her way into the stack of oversized pillows lining the headboard.
Back to our kiss. The kiss that from now on I will reflect on as our first kiss
Responding to her hug gesture, I moved up her body and when I got close enough she pulled me in for a kiss. I didn’t flub it this time, but again, I didn’t know it was coming, and prolly I should have. It took only ten seconds to adjust and synchronize to each other’s kissing form. It was warm and succulent and sweet and was wonderful. I really was surprised at how nice this felt. I don’t recall married kissing being this enjoyable. I remember saying to myself “Damn, this girl can kiss”.
I was on top, in a position that wasn’t going to be comfortable for as long as I wanted this to last, so I backed away to reposition but she held tight indicating she didn’t want me to move. I gestured at the space next to her and she relented. We then settled in facing one another side by side; her smile confirming that this was a nice place. We were hugging and kissing, pulling each other closer and looking into each other’s eyes. Our legs intertwined and our hands were roaming, but not really in a sexual way, more like trying to make as much body contact as possible. I couldn’t get over how I felt so much more familiarity than there was. What I did not recognize at the time was that this was the physical intimacy catching up to match the virtual intimacy we have been sharing online.
Soon the intensity escalated and it was getting very hot very quickly. The intensity and passion that was building was not something I ever expected or planned for. This was the rare kind of making out where accidental hickeys happen and inadvertent “Oh god I love you’s” slip out. Not that either of those was going to happen but my safe, non-committal no emotional strings encounter was getting too hot to not risk introducing emotions into the situation. And that could happen.
At some point I was no longer kissing her lips and mouth but was kissing her.
I broke contact to catch a breath and maybe get some control of the fire. We stopped for a moment to breathe and cool off. She slid herself on top and I rolled over on to my back to accommodate her. She looked at me with eyes that appeared to agree that it was a good time to slow it down. She closed her eyes and she seemed to enjoy that I was rubbing her back with both hands that I slipped up under her shirt. She presented her lips for me to kiss and then her cheek for the same, then neck and ear and lips again. Her long hair had fallen down around us, surrounding our faces like a vail creating a tiny private and even more intimate space. Inside here it was darker and the temperature and humidity rose quickly. We were breathing each other’s breath between kisses. All of a sudden I noticed that Jasmine was back. Not subtle this time, but deep and fulfilling. I loved it.
This fragrance stuff really works. The next morning just after waking up, I caught an unexpected subtle whiff on my skin under my watch and my heart jumped by 20 beats. Who’d a thunk it possible?
The passion was building again but since I was aware and cautious now, I wanted to enjoy and go with it. I thought I could keep it measured and I did for a while as it does take two. The kissing slowed to half and so did the passion. However, the rest of our bodies started to make up for it and the touching evolved into the sexual. She was still on top of me and my hands were exploring and squeezing on her panty covered butt, then under and in those panties. Her body contact became more targeted as she was now very deliberately mashing her fun stuff all over my fun stuff. The kissing subsided but replaced with the audible accompaniment of her squeaks, moans and quicker breathing timed with her mashing I was no longer in control. The passion was under control but being replaced with something intimately erotic.
I abruptly escaped by gently rolling her over on to her back then getting up and knelling between her legs. I took a moment to catch my breath and wanted to say “That is getting WAY too intimate. Can we get naked and have sex now?” However, I tugged at her panties and said something dorky like “can we take these off now?” Yes, we were still both fully dressed except for her jeans
Since I am the kind of guy who doesn’t kiss and tell, (well, only tells about the kisses) and this is not the forum for it, I am not going to talk about the sexy part over the next 30 minutes. I will tell you that we did finally each get ourselves unceremoniously naked and then the sexy part finishes where it started, with me finishing all over that beautiful tattoo. Of course I did a small celebration gesture that she rolled her eyes to.
*************************************************
Cuddle time. Our snapchats leading up to this encounter were heavy on the anticipation and buildup but didn’t contain a lot of detail about or define what stuff would happen during our “fun” time together.
Me: “Ok then, tomorrow lunchtime, I’m in.”
Her: “OMG Are you saying that you are REALLY going to come here and let me have fun with you?
Me: “I’m REALLY going to come there. I am REALLY going to fully inspect that tattoo, as well as the neighborhood where the tattoo lives.
Her: “I so can’t wait to get my hands on you.”
Me: “WOW….Now that this is real and going to happen, my heart is beating so hard that I am afraid that people can see it through my shirt.”
Her: “You have to tell me, are you being SERIOUS right now? You can’t say this and not show up. It’s OK if you are teasing, but you have to say so that you are now….not tomorrow!!!”
Me: “I am SERIOUS and I PROMISE I will be there. You have gotten to me, BAD. All week with the way we have been talking..err..I mean snapchatting; I can’t get you out of my head. Then today with those tattoo snaps you sent; I can’t get up from my desk. LOL…..NOT kidding NOT teasing.”
Her: “I am BAD, and I like having FUN. I am going to have so much fun with you!!!”
************************************************
The only specific things I recall us acknowledging we would do with our “fun” was tattoo inspection and cuddle time. So as soon as cleanup from sexy time was done we both knew what time it was. For me, as good as the inspection was the cuddle was better. Just as during the sexy time we changed things up and we got to cuddle many ways. We started face to face full contact hugging just like our kissing time with some but less kissing and more being in the moment.
We were still hot (temperature hot now) and sweaty so that didn’t last long. She turned over and we spooned some. I was still craving full body contact but it was still so hot that we had to separate a bit. No contact spooning if you will, with just my one hand caressing her exposed shoulder and arm and hip with an occasional butt cheek squeeze.
It was about that time that we had our first ever personal conversation. On the project there were lots of flirty banter and some personal stories but almost always as part of a group. We had many phone calls and a few project meetings with just us two but never did the conversation get personal. Until now the only personal talks (Chats) we have had have been via Snapchat. I don’t recall who asked the first question of the other, but it was like a dam broke and we started filling in the details of our lives, our feelings and all the things we chatted about.
There was a lot to tell and we were giddy like children (child) best friends re-meeting on the first day of school catching each other up on our summer vacations. At one point she had something compelling to say and faster than a fish out of water she flipped back to facing me so she could gesture with her hand and punctuate through her expression. She landed close. Closer that I think she meant to at first and just a bit awkward I felt. But I was wrong. She didn’t back up an inch. I really couldn’t see her hand but I could feel that she was using it in the 2 to 4 inches of space between our chests. Her face was right into mine. She would lean back or up just an inch when she wanted me to see her eyes or smile or frown for emphasis, then settle back into the pillows with our foreheads or noses or cheeks touching. It was the farthest thing in the world from awkward.
If there was a recurring theme for the day it would be HOT; in every sense and synonym of the word. Again, it was getting too sweaty to remain that close. This time she broke contact to catch a breath and escape the heat. We stopped talking for a moment to breathe and cool off. She sat up, crawled to, and grabbed the (sexy time) clean-up towel that was at the far foot of the bed. She turned around so that she was kneeling facing me as she brought the towel up to her chest to absorb the beads and drips of sweat that had accumulated. As I watched, I again thought of my great fortune to be right here right now feeing what I feel and seeing the beauty before me. She pushed the towel down across her belly button and it fell into her lap.
I observed the soft sunlight reflecting off the white sheets, the white towel, and the white pillows bathed her in perfect light creating just a hint of subtle shadows in all of the right places on her angelic white skin. I started consciously taking photos with my mind. I wanted to capture every nuance and note every detail. I don’t know if I will ever be here again.
I don't recall if my next realization was comprehended in a split second, or if it took ten seconds to develop, but a terrible fear washed over me that for the first time in forever, she was beyond my touch and her next action might be to look for her panties or go jump in the shower. We were after all, deep into the second hour of her hour long lunch.
As I was preparing myself for the pain soon to come, I couldn't understand where it was coming from. I had the BEST DAY EVER, but I felt like an exhausted child who just watched the Disney fireworks finally and knows what that means.
What the hell? What is happening in my head? I don't even know this girl, let alone have feelings for her beyond she made my dick feel good at lunchtime.....and, I guess my ego is healthier since I met her. I have not cheated on my diet since she turned on the flattery the week before. I was sure it had to be somehow manipulative, but I hoped that if only a 5% chance it wasn't AND she liked me AND her mom was single, made it easy to keep my snacking to peas & carrots.
My self esteem has been skyrocketing too, as I have been checking a lot of boxes on my refrigerator. LOL, so many in fact, that I have been adding things to the list after they happened that I didn't dare put on it as they seemed pretty unobtainable just two months before. "Get sent a nude selfie, check. Have the confidence to send one back, check. Take a hottie 32 year old client out to lunch and fuck her brains out, check.
Did I just discover that I like girls who make my self esteem feel good more than I like girls who make my dick feel good?
Shit, that wasn't even on my top ten list. Smart, funny, pretty, Kind, whatever is the opposite of bitchy, fun in bed, boobs and/or an age appropriate figure is always nice, curious, someone you can trust to see you at your worst. Before today, "genuinely being a boost & support of my self esteem" was 10th.
Then BAM. I was hit in the face with the towel. Damn girl, I hope you can handle a spanking because I was just on the verge of making an interpersonal discovery of some importance over here, I thought to myself. I noticed the slightest or possibly mock look of concern on her face as she asks "you're not having any regrets or second thoughts over there are you?". I reflexively replied "Oh god no". Then with some emphasys, I continued "today was incredible. I REALLY needed this and you were PERFECT, thank you".
Again she did not disappoint. She crawled to the top of the bed on the far side and then to me over the pillows and laid down at a 90 angle to me on her stomach parallel to the headboard with her head nearly right on top of mine. She propped herself up a bit on her elbows and we kissed deeply. It was nice.
I made a few attempts to shake my internal drama, get out of my head and get back to my goal of picking my self up after my divorce. Oops, I mean back to pleasing a beautiful woman who clearly was not yet done having her fun with me. The emotional rollercoaster ride over the last hours, days & weeks completely blew out my brains ability to generate or absorb endorphins or whatever happens in a situation like this. Shortly after we had joked around while showering together, kissing goodbye (just like when I kissed my endorphin killing ex wife) and going on back to our separate lives.
I drove the hour or so home, brought my dog to the park and had healthiest and happiest cry I ever had. I don't know what I was feeling or why, but I was feeling again and it brought me much relief and contentedness.
We texted a bit that evening confirming that we each enjoyed our time together and agreeing that we should do that again sometime. The next day, Saturday, her husband took their 5 & 8 year old sons somewhere for the day. We checked in with each other again over text and chatted some about our lunch but the spark or excitement we usually had was not the same.
I reached out again that evening and asked if she was in a place that we could talk on the phone. She resisted but did call me (our first personal phone call). It took her 24 hours to let her cry bubble up. It turns out that our emotional experiences were remarkably similar, albeit from different perspectives.
She much later reveals that she felt emotionally dead for her hubby. She evolved to a bad place where she wanted fuck anyone but her hubby but still fucked him twice a week and had to appear happy to do it, killing her brain chemistry.
We rode the best and worst roller coaster in the world for 6 or 8 months....until the the Cocaine eventually wore off or the unobtainable became obtainable and it wasn't the the same rush for either of us any longer. She was the closest thing to a drug addiction that I ever felt. I never wanted anyone or anything like I wanted her.
My hope is that this story helps one person answer the question "Why the hell would he/she risk giving up their wonderful & loving family for an hour with a douchebag or a skank?"

All records in excellent condition, with most being spun only once. Shipping from California via media mail at $6 if you reside in the lower 48 United States. If located elsewhere and interested in a record, message me and we'll see what we can make happen.
All unsealed records are stored upright in 3 mil anti-static sleeves, and are VG+ quality at worst, most are NM. Photos available upon request.
Bell Witch – Mirror Reaper - $40
Black Midi - Live-Cade - $35
Black Midi – Schlagenheim - $12
Black Midi – Talking Heads / Crow’s Perch - $5
Black Sabbath – Paranoid - SOLD
The Claypool Lennon Delirium – South Of Reality - SOLD
Creedence Clearwater Revival – Green River - SOLD
Deftones – Deftones - $12
Frankie And The Witch Fingers – Levitation Sessions - $20
Fuzz – Fuzz - $40
King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard – Petrodragonic Apocalypse; Or, Dawn Of Eternal Night: An Annihilation Of Planet Earth And The Beginning Of Merciless Damnation Clear & Ruby Marbled [Blood Mist] vinyl - $50
Kyuss – Welcome To Sky Valley - $75
Lightning Bolt – Hypermagic Mountain - $25
Lightning Bolt – Sonic Citadel - $30
Modest Mouse – We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank - $50
Muddy Waters – Fathers And Sons - $25
My Morning Jacket – My Morning Jacket - $15
The Nude Party – Rides On - $25
The Nude Party - The Nude Party - $15
Parquet Courts – Light Up Gold - $25
Peeping Tom – Peeping Tom - $40
Power Trip – Nightmare Logic - $18
The Pretenders – Learning To Crawl MoFi Original Master Recording - $40
Robot God – Silver Buddha Dreaming - $30
The Strokes – First Impressions Of Earth - $40
Thee Oh Sees – Carrion Crawler / The Dream EP - $20
Thee Oh Sees – Mutilator Defeated at Last Translucent Blue vinyl - $25
Thee Oh Sees – Live In San Francisco - $22
Thee Oh Sees – A Weird Exits Green/Purple vinyl - $29
Thee Oh Sees – An Odd Entrances Sealed. Neon Green/Clear Split With Black Splatter - $12
Oh Sees – Orc Fluoro Yellow vinyl - $24
Oh Sees – Smote Reverser Sealed. Grey/Orange/Blue Tri-Stripe vinyl - $28
Oh Sees – Face Stabber Black & Clear Spinner w/ Red Splatter vinyl - $20
Thee Oh Sees – Panther Rotate Sealed. Magenta In Clear With Yellow Splatter vinyl - $12
Ty Segall – "Hello, Hi" - $10
Ty Segall & White Fence – Hair - $12
Ty Segall Band – Slaughterhouse - $15

(I am writing "Nigeria", but Trey and Matt will change that to a fictional country name like Scameria)
Opening: The South Park kids are in school. Their teacher announces that in conjunction with this week's lesson focus on Nigeria, they will watch live footage of a royal tour taking place there. A huge TV is wheeled into the classroom and switched on. Closeup of Meghan grinning like mad as she swans into the Nigerian school in her backless flesh-colored dress and huge African necklace.
Kyle screams, "Noooooo! Not the dumb prince and his stupid wife AGAIN!"
Stan gasps, "Hey Kyle, is she naked??!"
Meghan gives a speech to the Nigerian children in their classroom. It is one long festival of word salad and concludes, "So, in closing, let me just say that I see myself in all of you. If you are authentic and organic, you can grow up to be just like me."
One Nigerian girl whispers to another, "Does she mean we won't be wearing clothes?"
Meghan leaves the school, and walks down the path in front shaking hands with the female staff, all of whom are wearing modest dress, head wraps, and disapproving expressions. She encounters a little girl in a white dress carrying an armful of red roses, who is being shoved toward her by a staff member. Meghan drops to her knees and bear-hugs the little girl while grinning over her shoulder toward TV cameras. When she stands up, the squashed red roses have left two perfect round nipple-like stains on her flesh-colored bodice.
Three teenage male students in the background smirk appreciatively. Meghan, unaware of the stains, bats her eyes at them.
Back at South Park, the teacher jumps in front of the TV. "We'll take a break now!"
At lunch, the kids discuss the royal visit. Kyle says, "Why is she even there? She's not the princess of anything anymore. She says she's 42.35637 percent Nigerian, but she doesn't look anything like those people. And why is she hardly wearing any clothes?" Stan rolls his eyes and says, "Stop whining, Kyle. Just be happy they're not living across the street from you anymore."
The kids are back in the classroom watching more footage of the visit. Meghan is wearing a long yellow gown with a big sash across it that says "BUY ARO JAM". Three kings in Nigerian tribal dress approach, kneel in front of her, and present her with a large nude gold statue of Harry holding a purse, a smoking incense burner, and a box marked "MYRRH".
"Why are you here?" asks Meghan.
"We have seen your star in the East," replies one. The camera pans to the sky, where a large golden dollar sign is shining radiantly like the sun.
Another king unrolls a scroll and reads from it. "We hereby proclaim you Princess Ahmamazing Emu of Gonnachokeyou!" (Caption appears on the screen: "Princess She's A Freaking Gold Mine")
"What a beautiful title!" says Meghan. "What does it mean?"
The second king hesitates. "Ah ... it means "Our daughter has returned for our enrichment." Meghan beams.
The third king whips out a laptop and hands it to Meghan. "Here, Princess, this is for you to write your emails about unfreezing your bank accounts. Remember, we get a 20% cut of the profits."
Come on, Trey and Matt! I know you'll have us in stitches again!

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

I didn’t do it. I didn’! I didn’t! I’m no murderer, no, listen! I will tell you your a killer. You do not believe me? Even for a moment? But little is my own sentence even a concern for me, the freedom in society has little left to offer me. Grief and horror are all that fill my mind, the only residents remaining in my home. And you’d expect it to be such an oppressing grief. But no, no, no…it is much more the horror. It is much more the intense fear, the great disgusting and evil works that wait for me in the dark. The grizzly voice that reassures me of fate in its worst forms. It is here now. Cackling at its maniacal work. I hear it. What are you worth wretch! You’ll burn all your years and infinite more! But forgive me, my anger is difficult to suppress against my enemy. He lingers still. A lover of deception however, would be a fool in his own craft to reveal his intentions. Thus, would be a fool to reveal their own horrid form. Therefore, relinquish some of your repulsion of me, so that you may have at least some possibility of belief in what I say. I understand the situation I’m in, but why should I refrain from telling the truth simply because it is unlikely you will believe me? Especially when you condemn me? Listen then!
I was watching television, and my roommate was out the entirety of this night. My family remained in Los Angeles during this time, so they are not making any affect on what occurred. But you want me to tell of my roommate? I am telling you! You ask about the murderer, so you must listen to all I know of him. It was in the most ordinary of circumstances and activity when such a striking and alarming voice pierced the room. The TV was quiet, and I lounged about with dull mind. When I heard someone call for my name from down the hall, whom which I couldn’t see since the door was closed, I of course simply responded, “Yeah?” This was the very first of the remarkable experiences I began to have. I realized what had just occurred. I was home alone, so who could be calling to me from my own room? Well I suspected then my roommate. But I had trouble reconciling the voice I heard with that of my roommate. It had such an eerie tone to it. Almost as if it were teasing me. Yet, it was such a convincing and deceptive call, that the mocking tone it had was almost imperceivable. As if maybe this creepy inflection was a result of my own nerves or unfamiliarity with the event.
Regardless of it’s true nature, this odd quality roused my attention. Was I indeed not alone? But then it must be my roommate, since it was my name. I could not get over the gross friendly tone it called to me with. It’s as if it was bragging about knowing my name. I froze for a moment with the TV playing, listening for another call. “Javier” a woman's voice called out gently and compassionately. But such disgusting compassion did it call out. It seems it couldn’t itself disguise just the slightest hint of malevolence that just snuck under the tone. Or perhaps it meant to say it how it did. But it terrified me. I reasoned it must be somebody I know. But I couldn’t bear the action of getting up looking around. I was simply frozen, wishing not to move and cause myself to miss out on hearing more by making a racket myself. it didn’t even come from behind the door, it was as if it was somewhere far away. Yet it was so clear and punctual in volume.
This left me more at unease and helpless to find a solution. This time I did not respond. I greatly regretted responding the first time. I only paused the TV and looked about myself anxiously, dreading that something would speak again. After many moments of silence, I compromised to rest from my alert. And as the words spoke drifted deeper into the past, the simple abnormality of them caused them to resist their place in my mind as credibly existing. Though it happened not long ago that same hour, I questioned if I did indeed hear a call out for my name in such a mysterious and ugly tone as I had. This was just before the most morbid of calls occurred. It spoke to my name again, “Would you come, Javier?” But such terror came over me in that delicately rude and friendly tone which it spoke to me in. The suspense and anticipation for the call was intensely surmised to a realization as my heart began a sprint. This voice was not just a woman's, it was my sister. How incredibly unlikely she would be here, unannounced and somehow in my home without my knowledge. I still held intense fear, for you must understand the uncanny sense from this call. It was as if someone was inciting their vocals and tone to imitate or mock a human. It seemed not as if they were doing an impression of my sister—no, for it sounded exactly like my sister—but instead it seemed as if they attempted an impression of a human. Such a perfect quality, yet just so slightly imperfect that I may subconsciously perceive something wasn’t quite genuine in this call. I darted my perceptions across the room wide eyed. I quickly looked about myself, checking behind me multiple times.
Now, the following details not only enhance the unbelievable notions of my current situation, but may in fact completely discredit me in even speaking about them. But you must hear it! I implore you to imagine this! It is the truth—all of what I say is. For the night I heard her—my sister that is—speak to me in my own apartment, was the same night, as I learned weeks later, is the same night she had died. Sophia, that is her name, had killed herself.
Many nights passed like this when I was alone. I was tormented by calls with no direction or location. I shuddered at creepy voices beckoning in the dark. Sometimes, even in daylight, things spoke to me while I was alone. Unrelenting and disturbing voices within my home. Now, you may presume at this moment I am clearly schizophrenic. Indeed, I too had this notion. I seeked a psychiatrist during this time, to which medicine was prescribed and an indefinite period of shipping as well. But I perceived far too many REAL things. Yes, these could be hallucinations, but you couldn’t possibly have that conclusion if you hear what else this has done to me.
It happened after many terrible nights that I heard of my sister’s death. I was very shocked at first. But sadness was not next door, grief did not have time to move in. Instead, a realization taunted and teased my peace. I would hear her tonight, speaking to me. You may not imagine the dread that filled my day. I went to work and back home as a zombie. The tasks and conversations passed me by as dreams. I was incredibly absent and void of presence in my own life. My head spun before it comprehended any purpose of grief and despair. When I returned home I found myself double, triple checking that the lights were on and the blinds shut. Even though these things were clearly in my sight. I also locked doors and called my roommate to make sure he was home. I begged and pleaded with him, but he only brushed me off telling me he can't ditch his shift. I paced back and forth within the rooms pitching the plan to myself to have a hotel room. I eventually settled on this as it brought peace to me. And that night passed, at least before I slept, how I hoped. My sister did not speak to me from the darkness. But woe had not stopped its intention upon me that night.
I managed to fall asleep. In my dreams that night, I was visited with a vivid nightmare. I stood in my childhood home waiting at the door with a bat in my hand, standing between my sister and the entrance. I had this feeling that something bad was going to happen, and that I had to protect her, though nothing in particular was occurring. Then, with a gentle creek, a clawed hand reached and pushed the front door gently open. A demonically horned monstrosity stepped into the room. Its hooves clopped upon the wood floor. I intended to combat it, but my muscles took no command from me, and I swung the bat as if I was in molasses. It lunged with a deep roar to my sister, digging its hands into her stomach and viciously tearing it open with ease. It dug through her chest cavity as a dog digs holes in the dirt, spewing and tossing guts and organs out slashed and mutilated. I stood helpless and disgusted, until it turned towards me. It dropped my sister to the ground like a doll it no longer wanted to play with. It approached and grasped me tightly, growling a deep animalistic anger, its stature looming over me. It took its claw and dug it into its own eye, slicing it and tearing it open. It leaned over me, inches from my face. I screamed in horror. Black blood seeped and dripped from its swollen socket into my mouth. I struggled ferociously but the blood continuously poured from its eye into me.
I awoke sweating in pitch black, feeling Intense fear in myself. As a child that had not had their night light. I was terrified of the thought of something being in the darkness. I knew I was awake, and I was in a hotel in the middle of the night, but my heart started racing in irrational fear. I didn’t even have the courage to lift my head and look about the room to satiate the tormenting curiosity in the mystery of a possible supernatural visitor. But, I did. There was a demon sitting on the chair. A darker than dark silhouette of someone sitting hunched, looking at me. It was a shadow. But I knew, even then, this was a devil. I felt it. The blood in my skin fell away. I was mortified; in absolute terror. I stared unmoving with my heart beating out of my chest at this figure.
I slowly began to hold disdain for it. It did not move, it did not speak. But, I was beginning to be relieved of my fear. Instead, it was replaced with hate. Burning, mean hate. I hated it. No, I abhorred it. I was angry. The most intense rage fell upon me. I stood up from my bed, looking about the darkness. I stomped and clenched my fists. Captured in the most ridiculous delusion of fury, I began yelling and thrashing my room. I broke vases and electronics. I smashed the TV to the ground. I bit and gnawed at the chair leg which the thing sat on. I flipped the mattress and kicked doors off their hinges. I scratched and tore pillows like a feline. I was filled with so much hate and anger. I remained like this until hotel staff came to subdue me. Which, at their arrival, the feeling subsided suddenly.
I now was plagued daily by these voices, and nightly by this demon. The visits were not as dramatic as the first, but still, It watched me from different places in the dark each time. All it did was sit there. Weeks passed like this, I lost tremendous amounts of sleep attending to fruitless solutions and avoidances. Either I slept not a wink the night and evaded my tormentor, save for the voices if I’m alone, or I had to face my tormentor in the midst of night with a bravery I did not possess, awoken by various nightmares or visions designed for me that night.
But this is merely his entrance, I must now speak of the acquaintance he made with me. It was another terrible midnight where I stared at it, in whichever spot it had chose for the night, contemplating the nature of such a gross presence and its effect on me. When, filled with a ridiculous exhaustion and exhasperation, I called out to it, “What do you want!” I saw a slight twitch in its head, which struck me with more surprise than fear, although I had both. “Do you know me?” It spoke in a low and growled voice. It had such a tone of malevolence and mocking speech, it even felt as if it spoke condescendingly, as if I was a child it was reducing to. “No.” I said, my breath failing me. “I knew your sister.” The demon stated with a snicker, which developed into a chuckle, then an intense and hearty laugh. He wailed and howled in laughter even, he sounded insane. Such a disgusting sound it was to hear its voice in the darkness so pleased with itself. It confused and frustrated me in fear greatly, and it became so loud and went on for so long I couldn’t stand it. “Shut up!” I yelled finally. It stopped laughing immediately. “But you know Javier, you know me too.” It spoke very seriously. I stared in bewilderment. “You’re guilty! You’re guilty! You love murder! Haha! You love yourself! You stroke huh?” The demon spoke without relent and enjoyed his own hilarity. “What the fuck?” I said in a trembled whisper. “Yea, you hate clothes, you little pathetic bitch.” It cackled.
I was roused again with the most extreme and unimaginable anger. I yelled my defense at him. He grew in laughter. I screamed any kind of profanity and slur I could think of at his station, and he only grew in volume with me. This went on until I finally arrived at my king accusation, which was finally enough to have it stir, “You’re a failure of creation!” He was silent for a moment. “What is it you know of creation?” It spoke with such a terrible and tremendous tone. “Are you worth any more than me? You’re subject to death the same. I’m a connoisseur of freedoms, yet, what are you? You are a slave of fear, scared of your own desires. And, even more so, subject to me.. As much as a mouse loses its life to the metal spring when it grabs cheese, so do you spoil by me.” “You speak nonsense!” I retorted “You’re very stupid, it’s difficult for you to grasp.”
Then, without much more deliberation, it simply began roaring with the most horrific and inhumane noises. It began screeching—it screeched with blood curdling yells and sorrow. It screamed as if it was lit on fire. At once, in the shadows, it began clawing at its own face. I heard sounds of ripping and tearing—with noises as if pounds of deli meat were slammed onto the cutting board. This was accompanied by an intense and putrid smell of rot, and I began weeping. This experience was more than I could bare, and I couldn’t describe to u what was unnaturally filled in my mind. This night felt as if i was never going to escape the moment, like the present moment was my eternity. This sight annoyed me to my soul for what seemed like hours, and I even conjectured to myself that this torture was eternal.
But soon, he did indeed cease. A gentle glow of orange illuminated the end of my bed. He stood before me, tall and with elegance in the light. He was skinned, his jaw dislocated, his face scratched bare and raw so that no features were pertruding. He was completely nude, with hooves and fur patches among his disfigured appearances. He wore this boldly with shame, yet, overcame it with overwhelming pride.
Such beauty it was to admire his stature. I could not help but gaze with wonder and pleasure. I must have admired him for a while, perhaps even hours. I became mad with lust for him, such a delicious sight he was! I should give up my other fruitless endeavors of life if I could just have the delight to taste him.
But just as I settled on my prospective bliss, my roommate entered the room. His yell of terror attacked my ears, interrupting us. Why scream? Why that hideous look on his face? What was he so scared of? What possessed him to be worthy of beholding any sort of indignation upon my beautiful companion? A little worm—that ugly little leech that dared breath the same air as us. “Get rid of it.” The demon told me, but I hardly needed a command to conceive of my goal.
Oh, what fun I had! It was like the first fresh sip of lemonade on a summer day! Like the sunshine that seeps through window seals—like the birds chirping in the dewy mornings. Like the adrenaline of a rollercoaster—the tickle of a drop. Like the intoxication that gives you belief of so much confidence. And to feel it on my hands? It was the joy of a child when he smashes his fingers into the moist sand—that innocent satisfaction of destroying a castle. Like the excitement of opening your favorite bag of chips—grabbing the ends and pulling the plastic with might until bursts open with goodies; yes, that’s what it was like for me to stick my thumbs deep into his eye sockets, and pull to open—if only I could. It was such, as when I bit down on his throat with all my might and sipped. It was indeed so, when I scratched and clawed till my nails came off, opening his chest and pulling at ribs like discarded hot wings, ripping at organs and intestines, pulling of nails, bending fingers two loops around, snapping his arms, smashing his head with my foot—but again my happiness was destroyed. For my companion had fled the scene, and he was no longer present. At once, I recovered some coherence and realized the tragedy of what I had done. How would I hide this? How could I discard of blood evidence all over me? How was he going to chip in on rent in this condition? I obviously had not calculated all the required considerations before doing such a thing. I was enraged by the black magic possessed by the demon, stupid, tricky, evil thing. So you see, it was his fault.

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

Greetings and Salutations! Just dropping by with my notes for the next five chapters. Hope you enjoy!
Ch. 6

• Feyre is really adamant about not wanting to read and learn to shield herself from Rhys? I thought they ended on good terms last book
• Oh she's strong for a High Fae? That's interesting. Yeah why wouldn't you want to test your limits and see what new abilities you have? Classic main character arrogance :/
• Is Feyre being a contrarian just to be a contrarian? Rhys spitting out all the facts and truth and she's like “BUT UNDER THE MOUNTAIN blah blah blah I can't be a high lady”...weak arguments, this is small PP thinking
• What's happening to Rhys, is he having a high fae seizure or something?
• Lol Feyre still describes Rhys as the most beautiful male she's ever seen, poor Tammers.
• Oooh a female Rhys equivalent??? And her name. Is. MORRIGAN! She has to be new mommy, right?
• “...though I’d enjoy seeing Rhys’ balls nailed to the wall.” Hi Mommy 😍
• I know I said this before, but anyone that can irk Rhys without trying is alright in my book. Feyre tries too hard, it's a tough look.
• Lol we’re going back to grade school now; join hooked on phonics with Rhys for the low, low payment of one week of your life each month in perpetuity!
• Oh and learning shielding at the same time, cool cool
• Huh so there are others that have Rhys’ abilities? I guess that's naturally implied if he wants to teach Feyre shielding. I can't imagine it's a fairly common power, yeah? Maybe the high fae king has it or someone from the old guard
• Hmmm seems like Rhys wants to build Feyre up and make her more independent rather than be coddled by the spring court…good man. And Feyre is against this….why? Probably because it's not her idea lol. To be fair, I don't think anyone would like being mansplained by Rhys
• Do we get better descriptions of what Rhys looks like? I know he was briefly described in book 1, but all I know is black hair, violet eyes, star tendrils follow him, and he's the most beautiful person ever. So Henry Cavill wearing purple contacts.
• “I was still scowling at Rhys's muscled back…” LOL Feyre can't wait to have hate sex with Mr. Cavill.
• “Because war is coming Feyre.” Oh shit

Ch. 7

• Wait so why does the king of Hybern want the land south of the wall? There's barely any compared to what's north of the wall in Prythian. Is it just to enslave the mortals again?
• “I have no interest in seeing full-scale slaughter like that again.” Damn. Rhys has seen some SHIT.
• Oooh smart man, this Rhys. Feyre wants to feel important so he plans to loop her in war talks with Tamlin to make alliances….it's genius.
• LOL Rhys failed to catch a Suriel twice?! I can't believe that, especially when human Feyre did it so easily. That's gotta be a 4D chess move to stroke Feyre’s ego.
• Oooh Rhys confirms that there can be high ladies in Prythian. He's speaking Feyre's language, she getting power hungry.
• “You are no one's subject.” Bro, I'm surprised Feyre isn't hopping on Rhys’s dick right now with all that game he's been spittin’ at her
• Dude the lines that Feyre has to write about Rhys are hilarious. She's gonna get Stockholm syndromed hard.
• Oooh Azriel and Cassian mentions??? I've definitely heard these names before. They sound like Commander Cavill’s lieutenants
• Ah cool so the teleportation power is called Winnowing? Sounds like they create a wormhole to travel, that's cool
• Nice we're getting some interesting world building about the night court!
• Lol Feyre really wants to go back to the spring court? She even said the night court was the most beautiful place she's been, she's surrounded by the most beautiful man and the most beautiful woman she's seen, AND she's becoming literate and learning how to shield properly. Bring Luke the Duke on board and this place would be perfect. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills, this is the same dilemma last book with the spring court lol.
• “Lucien was the first to turn where I lurked in the doorway.” THAT’S the Lucien that I know. Always knowing what's going on and who's where…it's that Giga Chad intuition
• Ooof tough look for Tamlin, asking Feyre to be a spy and tell him everything about the night court and Rhys
• I know Lucien is Tamlin's wing man, but it feels like he's on the wrong side of this. He even suggests that they should train Feyre in secret.
• Hard convo these last few pages, I'm already feeling a shift in Feyre and Tamlin's relationship.

Ch. 8

• Oh shit it's the Tithe. I'm guessing this is where Feyre really starts to disagree with Tamlin. That two month engagement was TOO short.
• “Lucien stood at the foot of the dais, tallying every amount,” bro this MAN does it all; he's your accountant, wing man, naga slayer, lady killer, liaison between nations, etc. Get this MAN on the bachelor stat
• Ooh nice a nude faerie just strolling up in court…more of this plz and ty
• Ah jk a water wraith sounds kinda creepy
• Ooof yeah figured some of his subjects wouldn't be able to pay the tithe, and Tamlin looks like he has black & white thinking, no room for nuance
• He's continuing running the tithe this way because…tradition? I mean I guess I get it but at the same time I don't? Didn't he dislike his father?
• Aww Feyre that's sweet that you're helping out the water wraith by giving all your jewelry to her...in front of ALL the faeries that are currently in line for the tithe ceremony!! You're literally going to prove Tamlin's point in that now everyone will want a handout. At least do this charitable act in private. FAIL
• Hahaha Lucien at the dinner table looking back and forth at Feyre and Tamlin, waiting for the argument to start. He doesn't want mommy and daddy to fight!
• I can't believe I'm actually on Feyre's side with this because Tamlin is just being incorrigible. To be fair, Luke the Duke is actually leaning towards Feyre's perspective so that's a good indicator for me
• “Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax “ Man, Lucien just knows what to say and always has the right perspective…this guy has all the makings of a high lord, can we overthrow his dad and put him in the autumn court right now?
• Oh damn she has Rhys’s abilities??? That's dope, but GET OUT OF LUCIEN'S HEAD PLZ AND TY

Ch. 9

• Wait Feyre is a fire bender now too???
• Oooh Alis with some lore behind the water wraiths. At least that faerie is in Feyre's debt, I'm betting that comes into play at a crucial moment
• Lol Tamlin's gift to Feyre seems a bit tone deaf…guess he didn't pick up that she hates painting now. I bet he’s thinking “THANK GOD, her paintings are terrible”
• “Do you not want to marry me, then?” Yeeeaah Tammers I think Feyre is donezo with you. Time to start looking at your childhood friend Ianthe.
• Oooh another one of Feyre's powers being made manifest? So psychic, fire, and now sonic boom shrieks. Please tell me she gets adamantium claws next

Ch. 10

• Ha she can create shields too??? So Feyre is just super OP. I'm having a hard time believing she's in any real danger now
• Yeah this relationship is over, Feyre is checked out
• Oooh Rhys is back to collect! Tamlin is just getting emasculated left and right, I kinda feel bad for the dude
• Wow he's so desperate to keep control that he's willing to give anything to end the bargain.
• “I already have everything I want.” Savage, Mr. Cavill. Savage, indeed.

Looking forward to seeing what the next Night Court field trip has in store for Feyre. Thanks guys!

This will look like this for a year I'd say. Loving the album (also loving geese)