The Moral Transactions of the Great Salesman Rupert Clif Everton
With solemn reverence: throw away respect, Tradition, form and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king?
I hope to be slightly as thriving as the vulgar. No, I have not aged like fine wineI presume you are a tourist? You walk in two worlds with the same strides. “You’re beautiful” was her reply “That hook has lost it’s worm” was mine. Yet I look at condos on Bethune street mindlessly. Nevertheless, shake my hand and hold a good thought, Our demeanor will cease to rot. I don’t care for southern architecture any more.A simple life is no longer one I can’t endure. I thought I missed you. I am a master perfumistWho can no longer smell the flowers. With an overwhelming force I scale the balconies of skyscraper towers. They’ll say “What an exquisite man he is with a beautifully scented chest.” In truth my hair is thinning, and time, time is winning. I shall not succumb. A cigarette after a meal is like a woman after war. A moment of what we were with the presence of bore, the intensity of the times tangled by the shore. I can no longer punish myself for lost time, I can no longer punish myself for a poor, unreasonable rhyme. I cannot even say what kind of crisis, For it is not until this part of me fully dies… STILL! I request an audience of our souls to greet. Immediately and without wallow.How I strip myself bare for the golden flakes of your lilac flair. The truest crown will always find the right head. My favorite flower will always stain the sheets of my bed. Today I took a six hour lunch to day dream of you with my belly full. What a Herculean task I bring upon myself. I guess it was easy to forget a ruptured mind. Yet moments later I would eat those $1 oysters with you, and yes they made me hurl, YET I would go as far as to lick your pear. I did so as I am a professional gentleman. I’ve heard the winds whisper that “here lyes a throne atop the refrigerator waiting a tilt”. Tonight I will forgive you,Tomorrow I will not fail to remember.There’s no excuse for going in the wrong direction,Unless you’re breathing carbon dioxide for pleasure.Unwillingly, you’re my treasure. The sidewalks are screaming with disdain. I thought I love you meant something else from you. I thought it meant the opposite. How can someone who loved so much, blush, I thought I was dreaming when I met you. How How How HOW can I prepare for blue. I am often crying during violin symphonies I mutter and I stutter;Where I would say ‘worn, torn and yet acceptably mended’. It’s a cold comfort, these flutter associations,Crept ceaselessly, and nulled necessity. Stretch the sky and summon my fixations.If only I can prescribe time as an anecdote to happiness. Imitating some earlier times in our lives. The beach wasn’t filled with damp sand,The chairs were there, the umbrellas too.A flower grow graciously in the sand. And indeed I may have lived on borrowed time.Because, until this part of me can die, I have no belief I will live, nor thrive. So I’ve heard that tragedy is the story of one learning too late. Yet I comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted. More trope than substance, as I bear no compass. I heard whispers that the mind is domineering. I feel like the lobsters while the titanic sunk. Has that peach ever been within reach?No! Eat your apple, she replied. Said the snake to Eve, I deniedFor it is not until this part of me fully dies… I’ve walked Bond Street, I’ve swam in the drinks I’ve drank. There I was pontificating about modern arts,With no remorse of those female hearts. I grow cold. Tragedy is the story of learning far too late. I found myself indulged in lies of love, across a row of neatly organized, originally positioned, well place, silverware. I surely shall never see heavens gate. Can love ever truly wait? I am to blame for reeling out the bait. I have echos to awaken before my time is taken. The white residue commandeers the sparkled mirror And mocks the face in the reflection.‘I control you’. In a distance room, nothing and everything is shared.Save me! I have flared! This crucible moment which sent me off into this life that is peaking me into this life,Which boards about my fear of a turblanced flight. I’m just the loneliest person in the world.Faces made for my fantastic coldness,A defining moment of my dying boldness. A circle closes with a lock and key. I cannot find it. They ask, how does he write a poem. How does he fall in love? How operatic is it all. Cold winds of the dying Fall. We’ve reached the possibility of stalemate, And either of us want to face fate. How easily difficult it is to go on.How easily I find something new to leach on to. I think there’s no one else in the world but you. Dreams of mine revolve of my skin turning blue and of a dream I can but shouldn’t pursue. I am the black swan in the medieval times of Milan. I fall under the command of Xerxes and wake up in the bed surround of nurses. How can a doctor operate without anesthesia? What a sardonic fella that doctor was. Mentions that I seem beset by licentiousness and turpitude. I have amputated my spirit in the name of servitude. I failed to climb the mountains of Magnesia. Comparison is the one that pickpockets joy.I wish it were yesterday. I tell her, you’re in a lava set haze. More trope than substance,And I find myself in the edges of grey’s maze. How I shall I begin again? I am curtain I wept and begged. I am the gazelle in the lions den. Can’t help but continue jerky legged. I wish it were yesterday. This sadness of mine was alone. The twilight closed the book of mine. I am a component of the chilling wine. Those flying birds; I dream I am their clone. My personality is certainly benign. I do not love her now, but maybe I do. Jitters of gifted isolation consume my warmed bathwater. There can’t be one natural human state. My soul is amputated, the endless slaughter. I can no longer escape my fate. I do not think I will even see that gate. Where is my shining castle?
Maybe I drink too much.Maybe I fall on the brink. I feel my liver pulsating. My core is no longer updating.Your love is evading, not aiding. We have slept in the lies of the jaundiced persona. I cannot have a peace and love together. I have seen the Sphnix ruffle and give me a feather,I have see her be the storm I cannot weather. Untrammeled I break you. Unhinged scar your character. Is the universe circular? Do I get I back.. Does my world now go black? I am the gentle end of the heart, yet I am also the pursuant enemy of the heart. The changing whisper of changing times. Oh god, more needless rhymes. I question what and IF paradise can be without you, And how a share sunset is paradise. I have seen moment of hopelessness take control, Grab me by my throat and asphyxiate me. And in that prime, I relish the idea of sharing this time.

This show happened in 2009. Link - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf7FoLQsILU
The earliest use of an electronic instrument in DCI was way back in 1985 when Boston Crusaders intentionally took penalties so they could play synth in Crazy Frog Axel F. As the years passed, electronics became a tense issue for fans. In 2004 there was a bit of drama over mic'd pits and the human voice (which went over a bit awkwardly in Crown & BAC). Still, you have to respect the corps for at least trying something new. A lot of the top placing corps would rather not risk losing a competitive edge by being too adventurous directly after a rule change. Even Cadets waited a year to try some new things in their Zone show.
Then you have corps like 2009 Teal Sound who pretty much had an actual rock band in their pit
Who?
Teal Sound was almost founded in 1983 due to 3 local Jacksonville, FL kids spreading the word & passing out fliers to try and start their own drum corps. About 250 kids showed up to their event, but after a few rehearsals they realized they lacked the needed funds (and adults) to actually operate. The dream became a reality in 1998 when 2 of the 3 original kids (now adults) finally put forth the effort to get funding & organizational needs met. And thus after the 15 year incubation period, Teal Sound was born.
What??
The Velvet Rope - Music of Janet Jackson * Music of Coldplay * Music of Blue Man Group * Music of Justin Timberlake * Music of Christina Aguilera
This show ended up getting 4th place in Open Class Finals, finishing below BDB, SCVC, and Citations. Overall it was a successful year for Teal Sound, also having won a few competitions in early tour. They would make the jump to World Class the following season.
Some quick bullet points:

• This show is one of those "I don't like this... but I respect it" moments in fandom for me. There's still a ton of value to get out of this show because they just kinda went for it
• I love that the guys in the rock band Emberlake(sp?) actually look like guys in a rock band. Bluecoats probably would've won in 2019 if everyone had 60s/70s hairstyles and moptops.
• The show theme seems to be about the idea of keeping people out of belonging to something (or even having barriers within yourself) via the "velvet rope". It's likely inspired by Janet Jackson's 90s "The Velvet Rope" concept album, made after she had an emotional breakdown & then tried to put her self-acceptance in music.
• Visually the theme is communicated with an actual physical velvet rope, along with a goofy security guy character that kinda aims to keep people out of the front area for parts of the show. Not a big fan of designers confining members to 'background' roles in a show (including this one), but it did help communicate the theme.
• They also tried to communicate the theme through spoken word bits, but I don't think they landed very well. I think fits a bit better if you know the Janet Jackson backstory.
• A lot of things in this show are pretty fun but also pretty dated. Regardless, the kids seem to be having a bunch of fun during the more improvisational/character sections.
• I'm pretty sure the tuba feature is a simplified version of the famous "Warrior Comes Out To Play" by Nat McIntosh, but it might not be officially in the rep.
• The Finals audio doesn't really do the rock band guys any favors as they get a bit buried by everything else. Not sure if that's a recording issue or a live performance/design issue. Aside from the beginning of the show you can barely tell there's 3 electric guitars playing. Other fan recordings during the season show the rock band a little bit louder, so I'm not sure what went on.

One more thing:

• Technically Spirit also did a similar 'rock-music' show in 2009 featuring electronics & bass guitar, and arguably did it in a better show. However, I feel like Teal Sound's show has much less regard for anything except their own vision. (Plus I thought their corps history was interesting to look back on regarding this show.)

When?
2009
Where?
Watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf7FoLQsILU
Why?
I respect this show and this corps, especially knowing how they were formed. 3 random kids had a DIY punk-rock attitude in 1983 and wanted to form their own drum corps in Jacksonville. They got 200+ people to join them in that moment, and then 15 years later actually gained the knowledge and means to do it successfully. A decade later they put that DIY 'let's just do it' attitude into their 2009 show with an actual rock band in the pit. Meanwhile other top corps were doing incredibly safe things like boring electronic sound samples/effects and using a synth to add bass to the contra line. yawn
Drum corps often celebrates & rewards safer trends that get higher rankings, but don't forget about the braver corps who paved their own path not giving a shit.
So what are your thoughts on the show? Have you seen it before? Let us know in the comments!
Here if you missed it earlier: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf7FoLQsILU
Full list of writeups - https://old.reddit.com/drumcorps/comments/1ckqffb/shows_to_know_updating_full_list_of_dci_show/

Today's anniversaries are:
2001

• Venetian Snares - Songs about My Cats (electronic, idm, analog, breakcore, jungle, Winnipeg)

2007

• Magic Pie - Circus of Life (rock, classic rock, prog rock, progressive rock, Moss)

2013

• Between the Lions - The Painter. The Liar. The Canvas. The Noose (metal, hardcore, melodic hardcore, metalcore, progressive, York)
  
• Colin Stetson - New History Warfare, Volume 3: To See More Light (experimental, indie, jazz, instrumental, Montréal)
  
• Darcy James Argue's Secret Society - Brooklyn Babylon (classical, jazz, Brooklyn)
  
• Mad Essence - Reunion (metal, cybercore, djent, electronicore, hybrid, industrial, industrial metal, metalcore, neurocore, post-hardcore, progressive metal, rap metal, rapcore, synthcore, trancecore, Kiev)
  
• My Woshin Mashin - Evil Must Die (electronic, twer, crossover, electronic, electropop, electropunk, experimental pop, indie, synthwave, trip hop, trip-hop, Chupriyanovo)
  

2015

• Genetics - Dr. Spookymuffin (electronic, electronic rock, experimental, metal, progressive rock, rock, dance music, experimental rock, funk, funk soul, improvisation, jam band, psychedelic, space rock, Colorado)
  
• Rorcal - La Femme sans tête (black metal, geneva, metal, doom, drone, post-hardcore, post-metal, Switzerland)
  

2016

• Format - Empyrée (rock, instrumental, math rock, noise, post-rock, Clermont Ferrand)
  
• Qrixkuor - Three Devils Dance (death metal, metal, London)
  

2017

• Immortal Abyss - Immortal Abyss (Metal)
  
• Impending Annihilation - Dēlīrium tremēns (metal, pathologic technical death metal, Nagoya)
  
• Loathfinder - The Great Tired Ones (metal, black, blackended, doom)
  
• Suns of Sorath - Flowers of the Lily (black metal, death metal, metal, progressive metal, Denver)
  

2018

• Curse League - Laying by the Fire in Good Company (punk, emo, math rock, mathrock, tapping, twinkly shit, Seattle)
  
• Ensemble Atlantica - Mnemonic Verses (Classical)
  
• Holosphere - Ⅰ (metal, djent, heavy metal, instrumental, rock, Florida)
  
• Oliba International - Oliba International (world, afro, exotic, tsapiky, Angers)
  
• Thirdegree - Ones & Zeros, Volume 0 (rock, art rock, distopia, progressive rock, robots, technology, transhumanism, New Jersey)
  
• Verneri Pohjola & Samuel Blaser - City of Gardens (jazz, krzysztof gradziuk, maciej garbowski, rgg, samuel blaser, verneri pohjola, Łukasz ojdana, Warsaw) Read our review.
  

2019

• Ayankoko - ກ້ຽວສາວ (Kiauasav) (experimental, idm, abstract, ambient electronic, asian, experimental electronic, London)
  
• Clouds Taste Satanic - Evil Eye (doom, doom metal, heavy metal, heavy rock, instru-metal, instrumental, metal, post-doom, stoner, stoner metal, stoner rock, instrumetal, New York)
  
• Den infernalske dans - Ingen vej tilbage (metal, instrumental, jazz fusion, progressive metal, Oslo)
  
• MRW - ばけもの : 悲しみの復活 (Bakemono : Kanashimi no fukkatsu) (experimental, ambient, ambient rock, instrumental, jazz rock, post progressive metal, post-prog, post-progressive, post-rock, postrock, soundscapes, zeuhl, Sosnowiec)
  
• Neige et Noirceur - Interstellar Enigmatic Throne (avantgarde metal, black metal, dark metal, doom metal, metal, Italy)
  
• Num - False Awakening (ambient, avant, avant noise, avant-garde, avantgarde, black, dark, dark ambient, drone, electronica, ethereal, noise, ominous, soundscape, spacemusic, Indianapolis)
  
• Phineas Brady - Commonfate (electronic, experimental, braindance, experimental electronic, sound design, Iowa City)
  
• Sales de baño - Geometría del vínculo (experimental, ambient, improv, psych, Lima) Read our review.
  
• Sferos - Set It Up as Silence (experimental, jazz, avant-garde, creative, latinamerican, noise, New York) Read our review.
  
• Thomas Beckman - Life in the Universe (classical, contemporary classical, Vancouver)
  
• Whalesong - Gateway (experimental, industrial metal, metal, ambient, doom, doom metal, drone, drone doom, industrial, minimal, no wave, post-punk, psychedelic, sludge metal, spectral, Tarnowskie Góry)
  
• Zlatko Kaučič, Lotte Anker, Johannes Bauer, Agustí Fernández, Artur Majewski, Rafał Mazur, Phil Minton, and Evan Parker - Diversity #1 (jazz, free jazz, improvised music, jazz, Slovenia) Read our review.
  

2020

• Aaron Novik - Frowny Frown 2 (experimental jazz)
  
• Ad īnfīnītum - Trīstitiae (post-black metal)
  
• Adam Shead's Adiaphora Orchestra - Miniature Paintings and the Impossible Warehouse (contemporary classical)
  
• Albionic Hermeticism & Decoherence - Split (black metal)
  
• Arrebol - El que rehúye las esencias (post-black metal)
  
• Atrium - Cerulean (progressive metal)
  
• Becomes Astral - Purgatory (progressive death metal)
  
• Benjamin Jephta - The Evolution of an Undefined (modern jazz)
  
• Codex Orzhova - Baja Blasted (experimental mathcore)
  
• Holy Power - 九夜 (Gáu jeh / Nine Nights) (symphonic death metal)
  
• Karmacipher - Introspectrum (avant-garde death metal) Read our review.
  
• Ladyscraper - Heavy Electronics (breakcore)
  
• Sketch the Sky - Lock (progressive rock, nu jazz)
  
• Surgery Head - Devil Sounds, Part Ⅱ: Dominant of Witchcraft (darkwave)
  
• Tim Berne & Nasheet Waits - The Coandă Effect (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Tuscoma - Discourse (blackened post-metal)
  
• Αγαμέμνων Μουστάκας, Περσέας Ρίζος, και Στέφανος Χυτήρης (Agamémnōn Moustákas, Perséas Rízos, kai Stéphanos Chytíris) - Τραγέλαφος (Tragélafos) (avant-garde jazz)
  
• 美川俊治と小埜涼子 (Mikawa Toshiji to Ono Ryōko) - Duo (experimental jazz)
  

2021

• 3223 - Voyage (math rock)
  
• Agabas - Voluspå (jazzcore)
  
• Akhenaten - The Emerald Tablets of Thoth (folk black metal)
  
• Apnea - Stasi (post-metal)
  
• Błoto - Kwasy i zasady (electro-jazz)
  
• Crown Magnetar - The Codex of Flesh (technical deathcore)
  
• Damien Kingston Quartet - Wells (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Daniel Thatcher - Waterwheel (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Desmond White - Run the Sunny Gauntlet (indie jazz)
  
• Diagonal & Jean-Christophe Cholet - Back in Tunisia (world fusion)
  
• Faraji Heritage Experiement - Mwili (world fusion)
  
• Gojira - Fortitude (progressive metal)
  
• Hassan K - Isteghna (avant-garde metal)
  
• Iain Sinclair & London Experimental Ensemble - Dark before Dark (contemporary classical)
  
• Laura Cannell & Kate Ellis - These Feral Lands: April Sounds (contemporary classical)
  
• Lauren Lee - Queen of Cups (modern jazz)
  
• Lisa Cameron & Sandy Ewen - See Creatures Too (free improvisation)
  
• Matt Sweeney & Bonnie "Prince" Billy - Superwolves (indie folk)
  
• Michael Wollny, Emile Parisien, Tim Lefebvre, and Christian Lillinger - XXXX (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Mission Jupiter - Talk to Me (progressive metal)
  
• Ophiuchi - Shibboleth (experimental black metal)
  
• Pamirt - Mausoleum (post-metal, opera)
  
• Rob Frye - Chihuahuan Desert & Birdscapes (experimental electro)
  
• Rodziewicz - Rojazzvitch (nu jazz)
  
• Vallendusk - Heralds of Strife (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Бѣсъ (Běsʺ / Biese) - Чертополохъ (Čertopolox" / Thistle) (atmospheric black metal)
  

2022

• Agriculture - The Circle Chant (blackgaze)
  
• Antoine Brochot Quartet - Fundāmentum (modern jazz)
  
• Fluorescence - Dream (contemporary classical)
  
• Negative Plane - The Pact (black metal)
  
• Reverb on Repeat - Demo (ambient post-rock)
  
• Sulphur Sovereign - Anathematic Gateway to Nothingness (black metal)
  

2023

• Beyond the Reach of Tempests - Whispering a Prayer (post-rock)
  
• Call to Prayer - Hiemal Anemone (black metal)
  
• Cordura - Nibiru X (technical death metal)
  
• Cosmic Jaguar - The Legacy of the Aztecs (progressive thrash metal)
  
• Ola Englund - The Chug Project, Volume 1 (melodic death metal)
  

Back in 2012, I believe I stopped the Apocalypse.
I remember staring down at the endless hole in the desert with wonder and awe. It seemed to go on forever. A life-long friend of mine named Bear stood by my side. He scanned the ground and found a large, smooth rock. It must’ve weighed at least sixty pounds. He rolled it over to the edge of the seemingly infinite void and let it drop.
I heard the stone clatter against the walls, smashing against one side and releasing a rush of small pebbles and clods of dirt. They soared downwards with the rock, reminding me of the sands in an eternal hourglass.
“Look, there’s stairs,” Bear’s girlfriend Stephanie said, pointing a freshly-painted red nail at the steps. They looked hewn from solid rock and spiraled down into the darkness far below. Stephanie tilted her head slightly to the side, moving locks of dirty blonde hair away from her eyes. Her appearance reminded me of Emma Stone, and though nearly twenty-five, she still looked like a teenager.
We stood in the middle of Death Valley. The sun sizzled overhead, sending out blinding light that reflected off the sands. Rippling mirages rose off the burning hot ground. Dunes surrounded us, looking as dead and lifeless as an alien planet.
I looked up at the light blue sky and didn’t see a single cloud. It must’ve been 100 degrees out. Rivulets of sweat trickled down from my hair and forehead, stinging my eyes. I wiped it away, looking back down the hole. I kept expecting this aberration of a pit to evaporate like some sort of bizarre optical illusion, yet there it still stood, a large circle about thirty feet across with ancient granite steps. And, of course, the steps had no railings. They looked fairly narrow, maybe a couple feet across.
Well, I considered that narrow, considering the thousands of feet of empty space I would fall through if I slipped. I thought about how the drop would feel, screaming for minutes and knowing I was about to die, the ground coming up to meet me, the air roaring like a tornado in my ears. I shuddered. The mental image seemed far too vivid.
I glanced at my two friends. Bear was casually smoking a cigarette, raising his tattooed hand. I looked at the tattoo- a reptilian, slitted eye surrounded by the golden spiral.
He stood much taller than me and, having done physical labor his entire life, he also had a thick covering of muscle. He was a metal-head and urban explorer, and about 90% of his body was covered in tattoos. Stephanie and he made an unusual pair, she with her straight-edge, valley girl looks, and Bear looking like he just climbed out of a mosh pit at a Deicide show.
He flicked the half-smoked butt into the pit, smoothing his long black hair with his hands. I watched the red light of the ember streak across the darkness and disappear into the endless shadows waiting below.
“Do you think anyone else knows about this?” I asked. Bear had a sly grin across his scruffy face. His blue eyes flashed with amusement. He put his arm around Stephanie.
“Well, if no one has, maybe we can make money off of it,” he said. Stephanie smiled faintly at that. “I’ve heard of people who discovered caves making money off giving tours. Maybe we can buy this crappy little plot of land out here!”
“This might be state land,” I said. “Actually, it might even be federal. I’m not sure where the borders of the national park end. Not like anyone would be going around labeling borders out here.” I waved my hand lethargically at the dead, sunburnt desert all around us. Absolutely no one lived out here, except maybe the secret mutant descendants of the Manson Family.
“Regardless, we should go explore it,” Stephanie said. “If we’re going to claim we discovered some new wonder of the world, we should be able to tell people what’s in it.”
“Yeah, and what if we get lost and starve to death down there?” I asked. “There’s no cell service out here. No one would ever find our bodies. We would just disappear into thin air. We can’t even call anyone to let them know where we are.”
“That’s part of the adventure!” Stephanie said, laughing. “You weren’t complaining when you dragged us all to that abandoned mental asylum and took us to the underground tunnels.”
“I’m with Stephanie,” Bear said, gesticulating crazily with his hands. “I want to go explore. I think it would be awesome to have a cave system named after us. We still have flashlights and plenty of food and water in the car. I have lighters and knives, cigarettes and booze, hell, even my pistol. Not like I think we’ll need it, unless there’s rattlesnakes down there that we need to shoot.” In hindsight, it was amazing just how wrong he was.
***
We each had a backpack filled with goods. Since we had been traveling across California and camping, seeing every national park possible, we had plenty of extra supplies. In fact, the issue became the amount of weight each of us could carry. I had them fill the backpacks with as much food and water as possible, leaving only room for ammunition, jackets and some extra clothes.
“You act like we’re going to be down there for the next year,” Stephanie complained, rolling her eyes as she hefted the heavy backpack around her shoulder with a soft grunt. “Alright, let’s do this! I am so excited right now. I feel like Bilbo Baggins must’ve when he walked out his front door with Gandalf.” Bear grinned like a madman, lighting up another cigarette. Without a word or a moment of hesitation, he put his backpack on and jumped down to the first step, a drop of about five feet. My stomach did flips just watching him. He apparently had no fear of heights at all.
As I looked down on Bear, it struck me how perfect the circular formation of the pit was. It almost looked man-made or somehow unnatural. Nature rarely works in straight lines and perfect circles, after all.
Stephanie went next, lowering herself carefully from the edge and hanging down by her arms until her feet were securely on the step. Unlike Bear, who at times I thought might be slightly insane, she did not simply jump onto the stone.
I edged closer to the pit, looking down. A sense of vertigo overtook me. The eternal blackness of the void seemed like a dilated pupil, a staring eye. I felt watched from below.
But I was not going to look like a chickenshit in front of my friends. They were both clearly excited, especially Bear, who started hopping from one foot to another, anxiously looking up at me and waving me on. He reminded me of a puppy excited about going on a walk. They had already started descending and stood a few dozen feet below the first step.
With a thudding heart, I followed Stephanie’s example, slowly lowering myself down from the ledge onto the first step. Once secure, I looked down.
The circling stairs almost seemed like a slit-open conch shell, the swirling golden spiral extending into forever. My friends looked so small standing on those unceasing steps, and for a moment, my intuition screamed at me, “Get out! Get out!”
But instead, I took a deep breath and started the descent into the bottomless pit.
***
We traveled for hours. I lost track of time. All of our phones stopped working, and even though I had just charged mine, the screen simply went black. Stephanie’s watch stopped ticking after a few minutes descending. I didn’t know if there was some kind of magnetism in the pit that disabled electronic devices, but regardless, we no longer had any way to tell time.
“God, how long has it been?” Stephanie asked after our fifth break. We sat on the steps, our headlamps sending eerie bouncing shadows all around us. A few of the steps nearby had thin, jagged cracks running through the stone, branching like lightning bolts. I wondered if they would crumble under our feet as we passed.
“It feels like at least six or seven hours,” Bear said, no longer as excited as he was at the start. Part of it was undoubtedly fatigue, which we all felt. I had a creeping suspicion we had made a colossal mistake by coming down here. Bear still had a sense of determination, however, and he wanted to keep going. “How far down do you think we are?” No one answered. The air felt oppressive and extremely heavy.
“What do you want to do if we don’t find anything in the next hour or so?” I asked. “I mean, are we just going to keep going down forever? We should make a plan to turn around at a certain point.”
“Oh man, give me a break,” Bear said, rolling his eyes. “What in the hell do you have to do today? You act like this isn’t the coolest thing we’ve found on this trip. We should keep going down until we find something, or until we need to turn around because we’re running low on water and food. This is probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, man.” I sighed. My legs ached and my feet screamed at me. I could feel the blisters rising on my toes. We rose and started descending again.
It was then that we heard a sound like a lion roaring echoing up from far below. It sounded predatory and animalistic but magnified to a deafening cacophony like an exploding hydrogen bomb. The stairs began to shake. Falling streams of dust and pebbles streamed down all around us. I tried to scream but I didn’t know if I actually was, because all I could hear was that demonic roar.
I clung to the wall of the pit as the sound started to fade and then rapidly died down to nothing. Within a few seconds, it had passed. I looked at Bear and Stephanie. They looked pale and shaken in the bright LED lights of the headlamp.
“Jesus Christ,” Bear said, his hands trembling as he reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “I thought I was going to die for a few seconds there.” He had succinctly expressed all of our thoughts, I felt.
“We can’t keep going down,” I said. “This is insane. What if that was an earthquake? What if there’s more aftershocks coming? We should start heading back up now. I’m not dying here.” Stephanie and Bear nodded, agreeing without any argument. Even Bear, who was normally fearless, seemed to have lost all of his enthusiasm for this adventure.
But when we turned and shone our headlamps up, I saw the stairs a few hundred feet above us had collapsed during the bone-rattling explosion of sound. About thirty feet of steps had simply vanished, crumbling into the void. I suddenly felt very much less secure standing there. I wondered how structurally sound the step I stood on really was. My heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest.
“Well, I guess the only way out is forwards,” Stephanie whispered in a frightened voice. “Maybe this cave or whatever it is has branching tunnels that lead back up. Something this massive has to have more than one way in and out.” I didn’t really agree with her, however. This pit was not a natural cave system as far as I could tell. We had no idea if other paths led out.
We kept descending. I clung close to the wall in case that ear-splitting cacophony started again. I wondered what had made it. Perhaps the echoes of shifting tectonic plates amplified as they rose up the pit and just sounded like a predator’s thundering cry.
Far below, my headlamp ran over an aberration in the smooth golden spiral of the endless steps. I saw a massive archway, at least ten feet tall. Its sides met in a point at the top, forming an upside-down curving V.
Bear and Stephanie saw it at the same time as I did. Their eyes widened in surprise and delight. But a sense of fear gripped me when I saw the archway. Its architecture looked alien. As we got closer, I saw it glistened like obsidian. Gleaming black rainbows ran over its length when our lights touched it.
“Oh, thank God!” Stephanie cried. Bear ran ahead, sprinting down the steps, like a man dying of dehydration running towards water.
“Hey, wait up!” I called, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. I looked down the stairs. Far below me, I saw a thin crack that ran down the wall of the pit for hundreds of feet. I caught a glimpse of a face peeking out of it.
The creature had bone-white skin and pure black eyes. Its features seemed a combination of human and demon. Its insane rictus grin showed many sharp, long teeth. Within a fraction of a second, though, it disappeared into the crack, and I wondered whether I had really seen it. Perhaps all the darkness had caused me to start hallucinating. I knew that prolonged sensory deprivation could cause hallucinations and potentially bizarre experiences, having tried sensory deprivation tanks both sober and after eating magic mushrooms.
Stephanie and Bear stood in front of the obsidian arch, peering down a massive stone tunnel. The ceiling towered thirty feet overhead. Sharp stalactites hung over our heads like waiting guillotines. Natural formations of glimmering marble and jewels jutted out of the walls of the light brown rock.
Bear ran forwards, laughing. He stopped at the first cluster of gems he saw. They looked like the petals of a multi-colored flower, green, white, red, blue and black.
“These are diamonds,” Bear said, awed. “This is opal, this looks like jet-stone… that’s definitely a sapphire and the one next to it is an emerald.” He stood up straight, looking back at me, his mouth hanging open. “Holy shit, Juan, we’re rich. None of us will ever have to work again.”
“We still don’t even know how to get out of here,” I reminded him. I kept checking our backs, and I thought I had glimpsed that white, staring face with the black eyes again. But it moved like a ghost. Every time I tried to shine the light where I thought I glimpsed something, there was nothing there. I felt like I was losing my mind.
We kept walking for a few minutes. Smaller tunnels branched off the large ones periodically. We would hear soft moaning sounds and whispers coming from them. I could never pick out any words, as it came across as more of a low susurration, but it had the cadence and rhythm of speech.
“That is so creepy,” Stephanie whispered after we had passed our fourth branching tunnel. “It sounds just like voices and people whimpering, as if there were some medieval torture chamber over there.”
“It’s gotta be some natural echo from the earth,” I said. “There are sometimes subterranean rivers and waterfalls. If one was nearby, its babbling could get distorted in the tunnels and come across as whispering.” But I didn’t really believe the argument myself, even though I badly wanted to.
“Oh my God!” Bear said. He was out in front, walking ahead of us by at least ten feet. So he ended up seeing the two bodies first. He started running, kneeling down over the girls. Stephanie and I followed a few seconds later.
They looked like two high school students, still wearing their backpacks covered in pins about love and peace. The nearer of the two girls was clearly dead. Her entire body had swollen up like a tick after feeding, the skin turning green as rancid gasses bubbled under the surface. I couldn’t even tell if she once had eyes or a mouth because the flesh had expanded so much. Her bloated body pulled against the fabric of her short-sleeved T-shirt, skirt and straps of her backpack.
The other girl was a somewhat different story. At first, I thought she was dead too. I couldn’t see any breathing and she looked extremely pale with a blue tint to her lips. Bear knelt down and tried shaking her. He got no response. Then he licked the back of his hand and held it in front of her mouth and nose. After a few seconds, he looked up excitedly.
“She’s breathing, though it is very slow and shallow,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” Her eyes started to flutter open, and she gasped. Her fingers clenched and she licked her dry lips.
“Water,” she moaned. “Please. Water.” Bear immediately grabbed a bottle from his pack and held it up to her lips. She took small sips, pulling away and breathing hard after each one. But soon she had finished the entire bottle, then two more. The color started to return to her cheeks slightly, though that bluish cast stayed over her fingernails and lips. She motioned for us to get close, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
“I’m… not going to make it out of here alive,” she said. “This was given to me by someone else. It’s the only reason we’ve made it this far.” She coughed, rolling on her side and vomiting some of the water. I saw streaks of blood mixed in, dark red like a garnet.
Bear looked at the piece of paper, frowning. He stood back up and turned to face us. Then he started reading out loud.
“The first rule to survival is this: When you see the Angel of Death, the woman with the backwards-facing head, you must cut your flesh and give an offering of blood immediately.
“The second rule is that if you hear the first trumpet blow, you must hide. Anyone who does not leave the main tunnel by the time the second trumpet blows will know undying agony.
“The third rule is that if you see dark silhouettes coming down the corridors, shadows in the shapes of men and beasts, you must close your eyes and count to thirty. They are eaters of souls, and will suck your soul out of your eyes if you give them the chance, yet they will pass if not fed.
“The fourth rule is that, if you encounter anyone with the Mark of Cain, you must kill them immediately. You will know the Mark of Cain when you see it- it is a most hideous thing.
“The fifth rule is that if you see the ruler of the bottomless pit, whose name is Abaddon, you must not look at his face.”
We all stood in silence for a long moment. I felt the strong urge to laugh. Then I looked down at the swollen body of the dead girl and immediately changed my mind.
The blonde girl yanked her backpack off, gasping and spitting blood constantly. She reached around in the bag, frantically looking for something. With a triumphant smile across her pretty face, she yanked it out and handed it to me.
I took the ancient leather-bound Bible. It looked like it had some traces of a white, shining crystal smeared across its cover. I opened the cover and saw someone had written in spiky, copperplate handwriting, “Property of Smiley.”
A bookmark hung out of the back of the text. I opened it up and gasped. The “bookmark” was actually a tiny, mummified pinkie finger. It looked like someone had cut it off a small child’s hand. It smelled woodsy with a hint of pistachio, cinnamon and sulfur. I have never smelled anything quite like a mummified body part.
“Oh… my… God!” Stephanie cried, putting her hands above her mouth. “Is that a child’s finger?!” The girl didn’t answer. She had collapsed on her stomach now, and she looked like she was rapidly worsening.
“Who are you? How did you two get here? Why do you have someone’s finger?” I asked. The girl shook her head.
“No time for all that,” she said. “I got a glancing blow of the poison. A very small dose, but it’s doing its work nonetheless. I can feel it writhing like snakes through my blood…” She closed her eyes for a long moment, breathing slow. Then she fixed her unsteady, watery eyes on us again.
“My name is Isabella, though. I’ll tell you that we came here by accident, exploring underground tunnels with my Rainbow Family. We got lost, and the tunnels started changing…” A shriek echoed from further down the main tunnel, cutting her off.
Isabella’s eyes flew wide open, bright spots of red showing on her pale face. She began hyperventilating.
“They’re coming! They’re coming back!” she cried. “Oh God, help me!” I saw a shape far away, like a galloping horse. My mind couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing for a moment. It looked totally alien, something not from this world. There was a sound like helicopter blades slicing through the air, jarring and rhythmic.
As it got closer, I saw a bizarre and monstrous creature. It looked almost like a giant flying scorpion. It was about the size of a Great Dane. Its legs writhed and skittered, like massive alien eyelashes.
I saw its stinger dripping clear, lethal venom, as if it were salivating through its tail. Its spiky wings looked like those of a dragonfly’s, blurring in a sea of motion as they propelled it forward. It was, in reality, the face that affected me most, however.
It had a human face, complete with changing expressions. It had no hair on its body, but even without eyebrows, I could see the scowl of bloodlust and fury. The eyes had a filmy look, as if covered in cataracts. The pupils looked faded behind the veil, the irises a muddy gray. Bristling spikes stood out the top of its head, black, pushed-back quills with barbs on the end. Overall, the creature was one of the most instinctually repugnant and frightening creatures I had ever seen.
Bear and Stephanie stood there, their mouths opened, just staring. Isabella tried to crawl away. She had thrown her backpack to the side.
“Nooo,” she moaned, “noooo.”
“Bear!” I cried. “Shoot it! Shoot the goddamned thing! What are you waiting for?!” He looked like a man waking up from a nightmare for a moment, his eyes moving quickly around before focusing on me. Then a smile broke out on his face.
With the creature only a few steps away, I thought we were all dead. But in a blur, Bear yanked the giant black pistol from its holster. With a booming echo like a shout from God, he fired at the abomination’s eerily human face.
The head exploded in a fountain of bone splinters and bright-blue blood. Its wings continued to pound the air crazily, and the body continued coming at us for a few more feet. Then it crashed to the ground, sliding, its stinger and tail still striking out at the air. I jumped back and saw Bear and Stephanie do the same.
It landed on top of Isabella, soaking her in its blood. She screamed. The stinger continued to drip clear poison from its wicked-looking barb. I saw drops of it sliding off the creature’s body and onto Isabella’s skin.
“It burns, it burns!” she cried, trying to wipe away the poison. But she was on her stomach, and with the creature pinning her down, she couldn’t reach. Like some ancient Chinese water torture, the drops continued to fall, searing and lethal.
“I need help guys!” Bear said as he tried to lift the heavy creature off Isabella. Stephanie and I went around, giving the stinger and poison a wide berth. I reached under its body. It felt slimy, cold and just revolting. It was like the texture of drowned earthworms after a summer rain. As I pushed, I felt a sogginess in its skin, and blue blood the color of antifreeze soaked my hands. I wanted to pull away. I felt soiled. I wanted to take a long shower and wipe the filth of this creature off me.
The body started to lift. With a grunt, the three of us pushed it off Isabella. I looked down at her and realized it was too late.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, showing only the whites. Her legs began to kick violently, her fingers spasming as her arms jumped and danced. She began to make a choked, gasping sound.
Then her skin started to turn a sickly, cancerous green. Her whole body began to swell before our eyes. She gave a death gasp and stopped kicking, finally falling limp.
***
As we left the corpses behind, still shaken, Bear looked at the Bible Isabella had given us.
“Juan, why do you think there’s a human finger in here?” Stephanie asked, still repulsed by it. “Is that some sort of occult thing? Maybe witchcraft?” I shrugged. I knew a lot more about history and books than either Bear or Stephanie. They almost never read, while I read constantly.
“Fingers have been used in occult rituals for thousands of years. In the ancient Buddhist scriptures, a madman and extremely talented warrior used to go around killing random people and taking their fingers for a necklace. They called him ‘Angulimala’, or ‘Finger-necklace’. There may be some relation to worship of Kali, the goddess of destruction. He ended up converting to Buddhism, renouncing violence and becoming enlightened, though.
“In modern rituals, witchcraft still uses severed fingers. Fingers represent dexterity, touch and manipulation of far-away objects. Cutting off a finger also symbolically represents a cutting of ties in an occult ritual.” I shrugged.
“Well, thank you for that enlightening information, Chatbot,” Stephanie said jokingly. “You remind me of those AI robots where you can ask them any random question and they come up with an answer.”
“Hey, don’t shit on me just because I actually do research,” I said, smiling. “Speaking of research, what page of the Bible is the finger marking? It may be important. Those girls had two things, after all: the list of rules and the Bible. Isabella obviously considered them important, because those were the only two things she singled out to give to us while she was dying.” Bear opened the Bible to the page with the finger. He looked down, frowning.
“It’s Revelation 9,” he said, then he began reading aloud as we all took a break, passing around water and peanut butter crackers.
“And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit.
“And he opened the bottomless pit; and there arose a smoke out of the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit.
“And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth: and unto them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power.
“And it was commanded them that they should not hurt the grass of the earth, neither any green thing, neither any tree; but only those men which have not the seal of God in their foreheads.
“And to them it was given that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months: and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man.
“And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them.” He stopped reading, his voice reverberating eerily down the stone corridor, bouncing off of priceless gems and hard sandstone.
“So that thing we killed was a locust?” Stephanie asked. “It looked a lot more like a scorpion to me.”
“It doesn’t really matter; it’s neither a scorpion nor a locust,” I said. “It’s clearly a different species from either. Perhaps it’s lived down here for millions of years, hunting in the dark. But it just makes it all the more important to find a way out of here as soon as possible. There could be thousands of those things down here. Millions, maybe. I mean, really, who knows how big this place is?” Sighing, we got up and continued looking for a way out.
Ahead, I saw a faded sign. It looked made out of pure silver, without a sign of rust anywhere. But the letters had nearly disappeared over the many years it had clearly stood here.
When we got close, I brought my light right up to it and tried to make it out. After a few seconds, I realized it was a sign for a town.
“Bloodstone. Population: 144,000,” it read.
Part 2
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/192nglq/i_found_the_bottomless_pit_from_the_book_of/

Back in 2012, I believe I stopped the Apocalypse.
I remember staring down at the endless hole in the desert with wonder and awe. It seemed to go on forever. A life-long friend of mine named Bear stood by my side. He scanned the ground and found a large, smooth rock. It must’ve weighed at least sixty pounds. He rolled it over to the edge of the seemingly infinite void and let it drop.
I heard the stone clatter against the walls, smashing against one side and releasing a rush of small pebbles and clods of dirt. They soared downwards with the rock, reminding me of the sands in an eternal hourglass.
“Look, there’s stairs,” Bear’s girlfriend Stephanie said, pointing a freshly-painted red nail at the steps. They looked hewn from solid rock and spiraled down into the darkness far below. Stephanie tilted her head slightly to the side, moving locks of dirty blonde hair away from her eyes. Her appearance reminded me of Emma Stone, and though nearly twenty-five, she still looked like a teenager.
We stood in the middle of Death Valley. The sun sizzled overhead, sending out blinding light that reflected off the sands. Rippling mirages rose off the burning hot ground. Dunes surrounded us, looking as dead and lifeless as an alien planet.
I looked up at the light blue sky and didn’t see a single cloud. It must’ve been 100 degrees out. Rivulets of sweat trickled down from my hair and forehead, stinging my eyes. I wiped it away, looking back down the hole. I kept expecting this aberration of a pit to evaporate like some sort of bizarre optical illusion, yet there it still stood, a large circle about thirty feet across with ancient granite steps. And, of course, the steps had no railings. They looked fairly narrow, maybe a couple feet across.
Well, I considered that narrow, considering the thousands of feet of empty space I would fall through if I slipped. I thought about how the drop would feel, screaming for minutes and knowing I was about to die, the ground coming up to meet me, the air roaring like a tornado in my ears. I shuddered. The mental image seemed far too vivid.
I glanced at my two friends. Bear was casually smoking a cigarette, raising his tattooed hand. I looked at the tattoo- a reptilian, slitted eye surrounded by the golden spiral.
He stood much taller than me and, having done physical labor his entire life, he also had a thick covering of muscle. He was a metal-head and urban explorer, and about 90% of his body was covered in tattoos. Stephanie and he made an unusual pair, she with her straight-edge, valley girl looks, and Bear looking like he just climbed out of a mosh pit at a Deicide show.
He flicked the half-smoked butt into the pit, smoothing his long black hair with his hands. I watched the red light of the ember streak across the darkness and disappear into the endless shadows waiting below.
“Do you think anyone else knows about this?” I asked. Bear had a sly grin across his scruffy face. His blue eyes flashed with amusement. He put his arm around Stephanie.
“Well, if no one has, maybe we can make money off of it,” he said. Stephanie smiled faintly at that. “I’ve heard of people who discovered caves making money off giving tours. Maybe we can buy this crappy little plot of land out here!”
“This might be state land,” I said. “Actually, it might even be federal. I’m not sure where the borders of the national park end. Not like anyone would be going around labeling borders out here.” I waved my hand lethargically at the dead, sunburnt desert all around us. Absolutely no one lived out here, except maybe the secret mutant descendants of the Manson Family.
“Regardless, we should go explore it,” Stephanie said. “If we’re going to claim we discovered some new wonder of the world, we should be able to tell people what’s in it.”
“Yeah, and what if we get lost and starve to death down there?” I asked. “There’s no cell service out here. No one would ever find our bodies. We would just disappear into thin air. We can’t even call anyone to let them know where we are.”
“That’s part of the adventure!” Stephanie said, laughing. “You weren’t complaining when you dragged us all to that abandoned mental asylum and took us to the underground tunnels.”
“I’m with Stephanie,” Bear said, gesticulating crazily with his hands. “I want to go explore. I think it would be awesome to have a cave system named after us. We still have flashlights and plenty of food and water in the car. I have lighters and knives, cigarettes and booze, hell, even my pistol. Not like I think we’ll need it, unless there’s rattlesnakes down there that we need to shoot.” In hindsight, it was amazing just how wrong he was.
***
We each had a backpack filled with goods. Since we had been traveling across California and camping, seeing every national park possible, we had plenty of extra supplies. In fact, the issue became the amount of weight each of us could carry. I had them fill the backpacks with as much food and water as possible, leaving only room for ammunition, jackets and some extra clothes.
“You act like we’re going to be down there for the next year,” Stephanie complained, rolling her eyes as she hefted the heavy backpack around her shoulder with a soft grunt. “Alright, let’s do this! I am so excited right now. I feel like Bilbo Baggins must’ve when he walked out his front door with Gandalf.” Bear grinned like a madman, lighting up another cigarette. Without a word or a moment of hesitation, he put his backpack on and jumped down to the first step, a drop of about five feet. My stomach did flips just watching him. He apparently had no fear of heights at all.
As I looked down on Bear, it struck me how perfect the circular formation of the pit was. It almost looked man-made or somehow unnatural. Nature rarely works in straight lines and perfect circles, after all.
Stephanie went next, lowering herself carefully from the edge and hanging down by her arms until her feet were securely on the step. Unlike Bear, who at times I thought might be slightly insane, she did not simply jump onto the stone.
I edged closer to the pit, looking down. A sense of vertigo overtook me. The eternal blackness of the void seemed like a dilated pupil, a staring eye. I felt watched from below.
But I was not going to look like a chickenshit in front of my friends. They were both clearly excited, especially Bear, who started hopping from one foot to another, anxiously looking up at me and waving me on. He reminded me of a puppy excited about going on a walk. They had already started descending and stood a few dozen feet below the first step.
With a thudding heart, I followed Stephanie’s example, slowly lowering myself down from the ledge onto the first step. Once secure, I looked down.
The circling stairs almost seemed like a slit-open conch shell, the swirling golden spiral extending into forever. My friends looked so small standing on those unceasing steps, and for a moment, my intuition screamed at me, “Get out! Get out!”
But instead, I took a deep breath and started the descent into the bottomless pit.
***
We traveled for hours. I lost track of time. All of our phones stopped working, and even though I had just charged mine, the screen simply went black. Stephanie’s watch stopped ticking after a few minutes descending. I didn’t know if there was some kind of magnetism in the pit that disabled electronic devices, but regardless, we no longer had any way to tell time.
“God, how long has it been?” Stephanie asked after our fifth break. We sat on the steps, our headlamps sending eerie bouncing shadows all around us. A few of the steps nearby had thin, jagged cracks running through the stone, branching like lightning bolts. I wondered if they would crumble under our feet as we passed.
“It feels like at least six or seven hours,” Bear said, no longer as excited as he was at the start. Part of it was undoubtedly fatigue, which we all felt. I had a creeping suspicion we had made a colossal mistake by coming down here. Bear still had a sense of determination, however, and he wanted to keep going. “How far down do you think we are?” No one answered. The air felt oppressive and extremely heavy.
“What do you want to do if we don’t find anything in the next hour or so?” I asked. “I mean, are we just going to keep going down forever? We should make a plan to turn around at a certain point.”
“Oh man, give me a break,” Bear said, rolling his eyes. “What in the hell do you have to do today? You act like this isn’t the coolest thing we’ve found on this trip. We should keep going down until we find something, or until we need to turn around because we’re running low on water and food. This is probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, man.” I sighed. My legs ached and my feet screamed at me. I could feel the blisters rising on my toes. We rose and started descending again.
It was then that we heard a sound like a lion roaring echoing up from far below. It sounded predatory and animalistic but magnified to a deafening cacophony like an exploding hydrogen bomb. The stairs began to shake. Falling streams of dust and pebbles streamed down all around us. I tried to scream but I didn’t know if I actually was, because all I could hear was that demonic roar.
I clung to the wall of the pit as the sound started to fade and then rapidly died down to nothing. Within a few seconds, it had passed. I looked at Bear and Stephanie. They looked pale and shaken in the bright LED lights of the headlamp.
“Jesus Christ,” Bear said, his hands trembling as he reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “I thought I was going to die for a few seconds there.” He had succinctly expressed all of our thoughts, I felt.
“We can’t keep going down,” I said. “This is insane. What if that was an earthquake? What if there’s more aftershocks coming? We should start heading back up now. I’m not dying here.” Stephanie and Bear nodded, agreeing without any argument. Even Bear, who was normally fearless, seemed to have lost all of his enthusiasm for this adventure.
But when we turned and shone our headlamps up, I saw the stairs a few hundred feet above us had collapsed during the bone-rattling explosion of sound. About thirty feet of steps had simply vanished, crumbling into the void. I suddenly felt very much less secure standing there. I wondered how structurally sound the step I stood on really was. My heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest.
“Well, I guess the only way out is forwards,” Stephanie whispered in a frightened voice. “Maybe this cave or whatever it is has branching tunnels that lead back up. Something this massive has to have more than one way in and out.” I didn’t really agree with her, however. This pit was not a natural cave system as far as I could tell. We had no idea if other paths led out.
We kept descending. I clung close to the wall in case that ear-splitting cacophony started again. I wondered what had made it. Perhaps the echoes of shifting tectonic plates amplified as they rose up the pit and just sounded like a predator’s thundering cry.
Far below, my headlamp ran over an aberration in the smooth golden spiral of the endless steps. I saw a massive archway, at least ten feet tall. Its sides met in a point at the top, forming an upside-down curving V.
Bear and Stephanie saw it at the same time as I did. Their eyes widened in surprise and delight. But a sense of fear gripped me when I saw the archway. Its architecture looked alien. As we got closer, I saw it glistened like obsidian. Gleaming black rainbows ran over its length when our lights touched it.
“Oh, thank God!” Stephanie cried. Bear ran ahead, sprinting down the steps, like a man dying of dehydration running towards water.
“Hey, wait up!” I called, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. I looked down the stairs. Far below me, I saw a thin crack that ran down the wall of the pit for hundreds of feet. I caught a glimpse of a face peeking out of it.
The creature had bone-white skin and pure black eyes. Its features seemed a combination of human and demon. Its insane rictus grin showed many sharp, long teeth. Within a fraction of a second, though, it disappeared into the crack, and I wondered whether I had really seen it. Perhaps all the darkness had caused me to start hallucinating. I knew that prolonged sensory deprivation could cause hallucinations and potentially bizarre experiences, having tried sensory deprivation tanks both sober and after eating magic mushrooms.
Stephanie and Bear stood in front of the obsidian arch, peering down a massive stone tunnel. The ceiling towered thirty feet overhead. Sharp stalactites hung over our heads like waiting guillotines. Natural formations of glimmering marble and jewels jutted out of the walls of the light brown rock.
Bear ran forwards, laughing. He stopped at the first cluster of gems he saw. They looked like the petals of a multi-colored flower, green, white, red, blue and black.
“These are diamonds,” Bear said, awed. “This is opal, this looks like jet-stone… that’s definitely a sapphire and the one next to it is an emerald.” He stood up straight, looking back at me, his mouth hanging open. “Holy shit, Juan, we’re rich. None of us will ever have to work again.”
“We still don’t even know how to get out of here,” I reminded him. I kept checking our backs, and I thought I had glimpsed that white, staring face with the black eyes again. But it moved like a ghost. Every time I tried to shine the light where I thought I glimpsed something, there was nothing there. I felt like I was losing my mind.
We kept walking for a few minutes. Smaller tunnels branched off the large ones periodically. We would hear soft moaning sounds and whispers coming from them. I could never pick out any words, as it came across as more of a low susurration, but it had the cadence and rhythm of speech.
“That is so creepy,” Stephanie whispered after we had passed our fourth branching tunnel. “It sounds just like voices and people whimpering, as if there were some medieval torture chamber over there.”
“It’s gotta be some natural echo from the earth,” I said. “There are sometimes subterranean rivers and waterfalls. If one was nearby, its babbling could get distorted in the tunnels and come across as whispering.” But I didn’t really believe the argument myself, even though I badly wanted to.
“Oh my God!” Bear said. He was out in front, walking ahead of us by at least ten feet. So he ended up seeing the two bodies first. He started running, kneeling down over the girls. Stephanie and I followed a few seconds later.
They looked like two high school students, still wearing their backpacks covered in pins about love and peace. The nearer of the two girls was clearly dead. Her entire body had swollen up like a tick after feeding, the skin turning green as rancid gasses bubbled under the surface. I couldn’t even tell if she once had eyes or a mouth because the flesh had expanded so much. Her bloated body pulled against the fabric of her short-sleeved T-shirt, skirt and straps of her backpack.
The other girl was a somewhat different story. At first, I thought she was dead too. I couldn’t see any breathing and she looked extremely pale with a blue tint to her lips. Bear knelt down and tried shaking her. He got no response. Then he licked the back of his hand and held it in front of her mouth and nose. After a few seconds, he looked up excitedly.
“She’s breathing, though it is very slow and shallow,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” Her eyes started to flutter open, and she gasped. Her fingers clenched and she licked her dry lips.
“Water,” she moaned. “Please. Water.” Bear immediately grabbed a bottle from his pack and held it up to her lips. She took small sips, pulling away and breathing hard after each one. But soon she had finished the entire bottle, then two more. The color started to return to her cheeks slightly, though that bluish cast stayed over her fingernails and lips. She motioned for us to get close, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
“I’m… not going to make it out of here alive,” she said. “This was given to me by someone else. It’s the only reason we’ve made it this far.” She coughed, rolling on her side and vomiting some of the water. I saw streaks of blood mixed in, dark red like a garnet.
Bear looked at the piece of paper, frowning. He stood back up and turned to face us. Then he started reading out loud.
“The first rule to survival is this: When you see the Angel of Death, the woman with the backwards-facing head, you must cut your flesh and give an offering of blood immediately.
“The second rule is that if you hear the first trumpet blow, you must hide. Anyone who does not leave the main tunnel by the time the second trumpet blows will know undying agony.
“The third rule is that if you see dark silhouettes coming down the corridors, shadows in the shapes of men and beasts, you must close your eyes and count to thirty. They are eaters of souls, and will suck your soul out of your eyes if you give them the chance, yet they will pass if not fed.
“The fourth rule is that, if you encounter anyone with the Mark of Cain, you must kill them immediately. You will know the Mark of Cain when you see it- it is a most hideous thing.
“The fifth rule is that if you see the ruler of the bottomless pit, whose name is Abaddon, you must not look at his face.”
We all stood in silence for a long moment. I felt the strong urge to laugh. Then I looked down at the swollen body of the dead girl and immediately changed my mind.
The blonde girl yanked her backpack off, gasping and spitting blood constantly. She reached around in the bag, frantically looking for something. With a triumphant smile across her pretty face, she yanked it out and handed it to me.
I took the ancient leather-bound Bible. It looked like it had some traces of a white, shining crystal smeared across its cover. I opened the cover and saw someone had written in spiky, copperplate handwriting, “Property of Smiley.”
A bookmark hung out of the back of the text. I opened it up and gasped. The “bookmark” was actually a tiny, mummified pinkie finger. It looked like someone had cut it off a small child’s hand. It smelled woodsy with a hint of pistachio, cinnamon and sulfur. I have never smelled anything quite like a mummified body part.
“Oh… my… God!” Stephanie cried, putting her hands above her mouth. “Is that a child’s finger?!” The girl didn’t answer. She had collapsed on her stomach now, and she looked like she was rapidly worsening.
“Who are you? How did you two get here? Why do you have someone’s finger?” I asked. The girl shook her head.
“No time for all that,” she said. “I got a glancing blow of the poison. A very small dose, but it’s doing its work nonetheless. I can feel it writhing like snakes through my blood…” She closed her eyes for a long moment, breathing slow. Then she fixed her unsteady, watery eyes on us again.
“My name is Isabella, though. I’ll tell you that we came here by accident, exploring underground tunnels with my Rainbow Family. We got lost, and the tunnels started changing…” A shriek echoed from further down the main tunnel, cutting her off.
Isabella’s eyes flew wide open, bright spots of red showing on her pale face. She began hyperventilating.
“They’re coming! They’re coming back!” she cried. “Oh God, help me!” I saw a shape far away, like a galloping horse. My mind couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing for a moment. It looked totally alien, something not from this world. There was a sound like helicopter blades slicing through the air, jarring and rhythmic.
As it got closer, I saw a bizarre and monstrous creature. It looked almost like a giant flying scorpion. It was about the size of a Great Dane. Its legs writhed and skittered, like massive alien eyelashes.
I saw its stinger dripping clear, lethal venom, as if it were salivating through its tail. Its spiky wings looked like those of a dragonfly’s, blurring in a sea of motion as they propelled it forward. It was, in reality, the face that affected me most, however.
It had a human face, complete with changing expressions. It had no hair on its body, but even without eyebrows, I could see the scowl of bloodlust and fury. The eyes had a filmy look, as if covered in cataracts. The pupils looked faded behind the veil, the irises a muddy gray. Bristling spikes stood out the top of its head, black, pushed-back quills with barbs on the end. Overall, the creature was one of the most instinctually repugnant and frightening creatures I had ever seen.
Bear and Stephanie stood there, their mouths opened, just staring. Isabella tried to crawl away. She had thrown her backpack to the side.
“Nooo,” she moaned, “noooo.”
“Bear!” I cried. “Shoot it! Shoot the goddamned thing! What are you waiting for?!” He looked like a man waking up from a nightmare for a moment, his eyes moving quickly around before focusing on me. Then a smile broke out on his face.
With the creature only a few steps away, I thought we were all dead. But in a blur, Bear yanked the giant black pistol from its holster. With a booming echo like a shout from God, he fired at the abomination’s eerily human face.
The head exploded in a fountain of bone splinters and bright-blue blood. Its wings continued to pound the air crazily, and the body continued coming at us for a few more feet. Then it crashed to the ground, sliding, its stinger and tail still striking out at the air. I jumped back and saw Bear and Stephanie do the same.
It landed on top of Isabella, soaking her in its blood. She screamed. The stinger continued to drip clear poison from its wicked-looking barb. I saw drops of it sliding off the creature’s body and onto Isabella’s skin.
“It burns, it burns!” she cried, trying to wipe away the poison. But she was on her stomach, and with the creature pinning her down, she couldn’t reach. Like some ancient Chinese water torture, the drops continued to fall, searing and lethal.
“I need help guys!” Bear said as he tried to lift the heavy creature off Isabella. Stephanie and I went around, giving the stinger and poison a wide berth. I reached under its body. It felt slimy, cold and just revolting. It was like the texture of drowned earthworms after a summer rain. As I pushed, I felt a sogginess in its skin, and blue blood the color of antifreeze soaked my hands. I wanted to pull away. I felt soiled. I wanted to take a long shower and wipe the filth of this creature off me.
The body started to lift. With a grunt, the three of us pushed it off Isabella. I looked down at her and realized it was too late.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, showing only the whites. Her legs began to kick violently, her fingers spasming as her arms jumped and danced. She began to make a choked, gasping sound.
Then her skin started to turn a sickly, cancerous green. Her whole body began to swell before our eyes. She gave a death gasp and stopped kicking, finally falling limp.
***
As we left the corpses behind, still shaken, Bear looked at the Bible Isabella had given us.
“Juan, why do you think there’s a human finger in here?” Stephanie asked, still repulsed by it. “Is that some sort of occult thing? Maybe witchcraft?” I shrugged. I knew a lot more about history and books than either Bear or Stephanie. They almost never read, while I read constantly.
“Fingers have been used in occult rituals for thousands of years. In the ancient Buddhist scriptures, a madman and extremely talented warrior used to go around killing random people and taking their fingers for a necklace. They called him ‘Angulimala’, or ‘Finger-necklace’. There may be some relation to worship of Kali, the goddess of destruction. He ended up converting to Buddhism, renouncing violence and becoming enlightened, though.
“In modern rituals, witchcraft still uses severed fingers. Fingers represent dexterity, touch and manipulation of far-away objects. Cutting off a finger also symbolically represents a cutting of ties in an occult ritual.” I shrugged.
“Well, thank you for that enlightening information, Chatbot,” Stephanie said jokingly. “You remind me of those AI robots where you can ask them any random question and they come up with an answer.”
“Hey, don’t shit on me just because I actually do research,” I said, smiling. “Speaking of research, what page of the Bible is the finger marking? It may be important. Those girls had two things, after all: the list of rules and the Bible. Isabella obviously considered them important, because those were the only two things she singled out to give to us while she was dying.” Bear opened the Bible to the page with the finger. He looked down, frowning.
“It’s Revelation 9,” he said, then he began reading aloud as we all took a break, passing around water and peanut butter crackers.
“And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit.
“And he opened the bottomless pit; and there arose a smoke out of the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkened by reason of the smoke of the pit.
“And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth: and unto them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power.
“And it was commanded them that they should not hurt the grass of the earth, neither any green thing, neither any tree; but only those men which have not the seal of God in their foreheads.
“And to them it was given that they should not kill them, but that they should be tormented five months: and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man.
“And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them.” He stopped reading, his voice reverberating eerily down the stone corridor, bouncing off of priceless gems and hard sandstone.
“So that thing we killed was a locust?” Stephanie asked. “It looked a lot more like a scorpion to me.”
“It doesn’t really matter; it’s neither a scorpion nor a locust,” I said. “It’s clearly a different species from either. Perhaps it’s lived down here for millions of years, hunting in the dark. But it just makes it all the more important to find a way out of here as soon as possible. There could be thousands of those things down here. Millions, maybe. I mean, really, who knows how big this place is?” Sighing, we got up and continued looking for a way out.
Ahead, I saw a faded sign. It looked made out of pure silver, without a sign of rust anywhere. But the letters had nearly disappeared over the many years it had clearly stood here.
When we got close, I brought my light right up to it and tried to make it out. After a few seconds, I realized it was a sign for a town.
“Bloodstone. Population: 144,000,” it read.
Part 2
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/192nglq/i_found_the_bottomless_pit_from_the_book_of/

Tuesday, April 16 - Monday, April 22, 2024

Highlights

score	comments	title & link
5,486	753 comments	[Highlight] Donovan McNabb, running for his life, launches a ball 50+ yards downfield across his body rolling to his left
4,626	278 comments	[Highlight] Referees are people too
4,240	414 comments	[Highlight] Bears fan jumps out of stands into tunnel to catch extra point (Sept. 11, 1995)
4,188	552 comments	[Highlight] How to be blackballed by Tom Brady in one play
3,503	432 comments	[Highlight]Daniel jones trips after 80 yard run
2,727	315 comments	[Highlight] Kurt Warner acts as if he’s about to call timeout, Marshall Faulk takes direct snap to convert 4th down; Faulk scores on following play (Dec. 9, 2001)
2,459	125 comments	[Highlight] How to Get Un-Blackballed by Tom Brady in One Play
1,942	232 comments	[Highlight] Larry Allen was ridiculous.
1,896	83 comments	[Highlights] One of a kind postgame interview
1,656	240 comments	[Highlight] 24 years ago today, Tom Brady was selected as 199th pick in 2000 NFL Draft
1,471	186 comments	[Highlight] 22-year-old rookie Troy Aikman gets leveled and throws a strike for 75-yard touchdown (Nov. 12, 1989)
1,402	214 comments	[Highlight] Michael Vick burns Steelers for 67-yard touchdown (2014)
1,247	151 comments	[Highlight] 28 years ago today, Colts draft Syracuse WR Marvin Harrison Sr. 19th overall (April 20, 1996)
1,144	100 comments	[Highlight] Matt Ryan's first career pass attempt results in a 62-yard touchdown (Sept. 7, 2008)
1,081	163 comments	[Highlight] Brian Westbrook: The ultimate jack of all trades for the Eagles from 2002-2009
1,060	150 comments	[Highlight] Tom Brady recovers after fall with a pass while sitting down (Dec. 12, 2004)
953	86 comments	[Highlight] Marvin Harrison's first career touchdown was a 35-yard pass from Jim Harbaugh (Sept. 1, 1996)
896	109 comments	[Highlight] Dan Campbell catches a 23-yard touchdown pass from Jon Kitna in the Lions black jerseys (Dec. 24, 2006)
823	100 comments	[Highlight] Antoine Winfield Sr., one of the greatest tackling cornerbacks ever
796	99 comments	[Highlight] #4 Kevin Kolb picked off by #20 Ed Reed for an 108-yard interception return for touchdown (Nov. 23, 2008)
573	118 comments	[Highlight] [Injury] The ESPN Sunday Night Football halftime show from Week 2 of the 2005 season as Chris Berman does the “Fastest 3 Minutes” of the games that afternoon and reports on other stuff happening in sports
519	92 comments	[Highlight] Giants RB Brandon Jacobs hits bullseye on the play clock after scoring (Jan. 13, 2008)

 

Top comments

score	comment
6,427	Fifs10 said “Don’t trust this guy he completely turned my franchise around”
5,943	classiccaseofdowns said “He won 6 rings and went to 9 superbowls. He is not to be trusted”
5,179	GHamPlayz said Massive L for Chili’s
4,061	Marvin-Harrison-Jr said “I’m a product of Dade City, FL. Population 7,600. No Trader Joe’s, no Whole Foods. No steak houses or country clubs. No personal QB coach, no strength coach, no state-of-the-art training equipment. N...
4,000	ThinkSoftware said "You know what fast makes you? Really good at running"
3,848	SilverScorpion00008 said There must always be a Wilson in Denver
3,479	Exciting-Value-1459 said honestly, who actually cares? this team will go 12-5 and then lose in the wild card round whether they're "all-in" or not
3,280	alecmc200 said if anyone was a very accurate draft predictor they would be paid a lot of money by an NFL team
3,267	legend023 said If you ignore the film and the stats, he definitely has some promise Basically Drew Brees without the accuracy, pocket presence or IQ
3,017	gotpez said Hear me out Caleb, there’s nowhere else you can throw for a mere 4k yards in 17 games and immediately be crowned a legendary god for the city

 

My grandpa told me a story—a confession, really—right before he died. This was 15 years ago. I had ended up alone with him in hospice and he was lying in bed struggling to breathe.
He said he needed to say something. He and some other kids had killed a boy at summer camp. Ezekiel. He didn’t open his eyes, just held me and started talking, stopping every so often because he couldn’t catch his breath.
​
​
Growing up, my grandpa had gone to a summer camp way up north near the Canadian border. The camp was founded by Teddy Roosevelt, people said, and nice families from Milwaukee, Minneapolis, and even Chicago sent their boys there to toughen them up.
My grandpa was 11 that summer. Ezekiel was younger, maybe 9 or 10. Ezekiel was a strange kid. He came from a farm in Minnesota and was going to camp on a scholarship. His family was deeply religious and didn’t have a telephone, though nobody knew if that was on account of their beliefs or from being poor. They weren’t Amish, but they were in the ballpark.
The camp counselors didn’t know what to do with the kid. They called him “Ezzy” and told him to tie knots and build fires, but Ezekiel would have none of that. He was probably sick of doing real chores on the farm; he definitely didn’t need toughening up. Instead he’d stay in the tent and write long letters and read his prayer book, muttering to himself like he was speaking in tongues. The camp had all kinds of Protestants and a few Catholics, but nothing like him, no faith-healers or snake-handlers. And the way he’d look at you could make your blood run cold.
Looking back at it, Ezekiel was probably afraid, out in the woods with a bunch of rich kids, so he was leaning on his faith. Not that the other kids didn’t give a shit. They bullied Ezekiel--it was fun--and it quickly got out of hand, the way it usually does when adults look the other way.
The kids pretended to lay hands on Ezekiel and yelled gibberish, hid cigarette butts in his food, stole his letters and read them aloud at campfire and wiped their asses with the pages. They did the same to his prayer book. Then one day, on a hike, some older boys took Ezekiel off the trail. It was a big pine forest, almost cold even though it was July, filled with the sound of birds and the wind. My grandpa didn't know what they did to him. He took no part, he swore to God. Whatever the older boys did, they took it too far. The rest of the day Ezekiel lay in his cot, his back to everyone else.
​
The next morning was a Sunday, brilliant weather. The chapel sermon by the lake was about courageous acts of faith. My grandpa told himself that he was going to be brave, like Daniel in the lions’ den. If he saw something wrong, he would speak up. He looked over at Ezekiel, who, like usual, wasn’t listening. The kid was staring out at the lake and the ripples of blue-black water kicked up by the wind.
They had morning swim that day, always ball-numbingly cold, but there was a water slide and a diving tower on a raft and you could get used to the water after a couple minutes, stop shivering at least. The boys were doing dives off the tower. The platform was about 15 feet above the water. My grandpa was in the lake, hugging the raft and watching his friends tumble through the air and fall headfirst into the water.
To everyone’s surprise, Ezekiel was up next, tiny and awkward-looking up on the top of the tower. Everyone quieted down. He stretched his hands out in front of him, bent his knees, and—
Someone shouted something.
My grandpa didn’t catch what it was, but it knocked Ezekiel off balance. He tripped and fell off the ledge and landed face-first onto the raft. They heard his skull break, like the sound of a large egg getting cracked open under a towel, watching him stupidly as he bounced back up and into the water, then looking at the empty diving platform, at the blood on the raft, the blood already thin and runny from mixing with the lake water.
The shock passed. Then bedlam: people diving into the water, others running to the shore, whistles, screaming, water churning everywhere.
The lake was very deep here—for safer diving—and the water quickly got inky black, starting at four or five feet down.
Too much time passed.
Finally they pulled Ezekiel up and swam him to land. As they carried him out, his head fell back limply. His face was crushed in the middle, water dripping from the crown of the dead boy's head.
​
It took a while to reach Ezekiel’s parents. It turned out they did have a telephone but a bad storm had knocked out the lines. They didn’t get word until late, and, roads being what they were, wouldn’t make it to the camp until the next day.
What to do until then? There was no hospital nearby, no sheriff’s office. The Lodge was the only real building on the grounds, a two-story log cabin supposedly built by pioneers with a dining hall attached. They put Ezekiel in the basement of the Lodge since it was cool and dark down there, put him out on a table so he wouldn’t have to be on the dirt floor, and put a handkerchief over his face so they wouldn’t have to look at it.
Then the thunderstorm that had been out west blew through east, a bad one with hail and pounding rain. All the tents got washed out by nightfall and everyone had to sleep in the Lodge, fifty or sixty kids in sleeping bags on the floor, all trying to fall asleep as fast as humanly possible, focusing on the sounds of the storm so their thoughts wouldn’t drift down to the basement.
​
My grandpa unluckily had ended up next to the basement door. As you can imagine, he wasn’t sleeping well. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the blood on the raft, Ezekiel carried out from the water, his face…
BOOM.
A loud crash. My grandpa sat up. Thunder? Nobody else moved. Even the counselors, who had stayed up late on the porch talking gloomily among themselves, men barely older than the boys, were now fast asleep. He looked out alone at the sea of sleeping bodies, the crash still humming in his ears.
Then there was a thud, then another. Someone was a walking up the basement stairs, the old wooden steps creaking under his weight. He reached the top step and paused, right behind the basement door. Then he went all the way back down.
After a minute or two, he started up the stairs again. Then back down again. Eleven steps each way.
My grandpa was furious—he figured one of the boys had snuck downstairs to look at the body or mess with it, and he found his flashlight and stood up and threw the basement door open.
It was pitch black down there. Now he understood how literalness of that expression: in front of him was a darkness so complete that it felt heavy and liquid, like it would cover his hand in tar if he stuck his arm into it. He switched on his flashlight and dragged the beam down the steps, all eleven, until he reached the bottom. Nothing, no one was down there, just the circle of light from his flashlight on the basement wall opposite the stairs.
Then Ezekiel walked into view, like he was stepping into a spotlight. Except it wasn’t Ezekiel. This was his body. This was something else, pale, the handkerchief hanging off of his smashed-in face, and only one eye which saw nothing at all.
My grandpa slammed the door shut. No one else had woken up. A deep, almost drugged sleep hung over the room. He felt so crazed with fear that he thought he might pass out.
The bottom step creaked. Then the next, and soon it reached the top and grew still, but only for a second. The doorknob turned, and the door inched open.
My grandpa stepped back, whimpering, when an idea flashed through his mind: the prayer book. He ran to Ezekiel’s bag nearby and opened it and grabbed the book, degraded from its recent mistreatment, and went back to the door, which was now wide open. Ezekiel was on the top step. He looked almost normal in the near complete dark, when the flashlight wasn't on him, like any other kid who had stepped into a shadow.
Ezekiel grabbed the book from my grandpa, seeming to weigh it in his hands. To think something over. Then he turned and walked back downstairs.
My grandpa shut the door and locked it, waited. Nothing happened. Silence.
Then he grabbed his sleeping bag and brought it to the opposite side of the room, by the front door where it was wet from the storm. He lay in a puddle and waited for daylight.
Ezekiel’s parents came during breakfast. Their clothes were normal. His mother couldn't speak, but his father managed to thank them for letting Ezekiel rest with his prayer book the night before. If they noticed the book’s condition, they didn’t say anything. Then they drove off with their boy and that was it. No lawsuit or anything. Different times.
​
***
​
Once he finished, my grandpa stared up at the hospice ceiling. He didn’t seem relieved for having told me. Then he looked pver, is dark blue eyes sunken deeply into his face.
“I hear him,” he said. “When it’s quiet. Late at night. I hear him on the stairs. After we had Richard, it started. Got worse as I got older.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Now I’m here, and I hear him all the time.”
​
​
***
​
​
My grandpa died 15 years ago. For a long time I forgot about what he said. No memory at all. It’s weird, I know, but you never want to remember your family members like they were at the very end. It’s not them. They’ve already left the building and it’s some animal dying there instead.
I recently became a father. We’re all good. Mom’s healthy. Baby’s healthy and beautiful. We’re hardly sleeping as we figure out how to take care of this little human. A lot of time spent in a dark quiet house. Well, sometimes quiet.
The things is, I’m hearing things. I’m embarrassed to admit it. When it does get quiet, and I’m the only one awake, I sometimes hear footsteps on the basement stairs. I hear the steps squeak, and they stop once I tune in, like it knows I’m listening.
Then it starts up again. Not always. But often.
And when I’m falling asleep in bed, I get the feeling we’re not alone. It’s the same feeling I had when I was with my grandpa in hospice—that someone was under the bed.
I’m freaked out, honestly. I don’t know what else to do but write this up. I don’t want to pull anyone else into this mess. But I can’t live alone all my life with it either.
I don’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.

I received an email from my apartment complex, this is the portion that concerns me:
"
You are hereby notified that, due to our new insurance notice, we are not allowing smoking inside the units.
DEFINITION OF SMOKING
Smoking refers to any use or possession of a cigar, cigarette, electronic cigarette, hookah, vaporizer, dab pen, juul, bowl, bong, or pipe which can be used to burn, light, vaporize, or ignite a product including, but not limited to, tobacco, marijuana, nicotine salts, THC cartridges, vape liquids, juul pods, oils or any other similar products, regardless of whether the person using or possessing the product is inhaling or exhaling the smoke or vapor from such product.
"
I completely understand that there should be no smoking in the apartment, especially anything unlawful like THC products.
Is it legal for them to demand that we can't even be in possession of legal tobacco products like vapes? This seems excessive and an overreach.
I am located in Lakeland, FL. Any input is appreciated!

Writings From 2022
​
On Philosophy and Science
​
​
By
Tyler Johnson
​
​
I feel terrible on the Invega injection. I must think about what I am doing and what I am saying to the people that work for me. That is without a doubt. My only goal today, may be, just to get through this life. That would suffice, sufficiently. Yes, to some degree, I am dismayed by the fact I must propel the use of enchantment to spellbind the demon of Schopenhauer to appear at my wits end where he will somehow implore me to write better. Writing just to write. Too manic. I will know when I have written a good piece. Maybe my place isn’t to be a good writer. Maybe I’m not a candidate. It’s okay. Life goes on. Suffering exists. There is a job to be done. I am still thankful for my inner workings. My suffering is more real now than ever. I feel everything more than ever; or so it seems. I write with chaotic rage. I have my own relationship with food, as they have their own. The image of God? More like the psychology of someone who is obsessed with themselves. Writing my thoughts till I rot. Till blood is no longer pumping through my veins. For what cause? For the cause of the shipwreck all. All born into fame. The real famine that is game. Wonder lust. Wonder lost. Paid the price. To serve my ship of DNA in fortune but not fame. In poverty possibly. But not riches. Yet not rags. At least it was not all about me. It was for animals. It was for prophecy.
​
​
An Evolutionary Perspective on Vegans for Health
​
Clearly, we are living in desperate times. People dying of water poisoning isn’t the entirety of the problem. The problem can come from nutritious value as well such food intake. Animal products do not cost as much as vegetation sources. Look at fast food restaurants’ price on cheeseburgers and salads to put it simply. Just perceive on a macro-economic scale, or globally, animal products are at a very low demand, while plant sources are very high. Rightfully so, plant sources should be in high demand, and cost more, because the supply is very limited for these products. Yet, we will blame this on the corporations or people running them. This gets back to “we are doing the best we can”. It gets back to evolution. Like, how we left our meat-eating ways by killing our food, to learning how to have new food sources. Because we had to survive. Calling a physics “feud” for religion’s sake when there is theoretical evidence to say it could have been a debate. Or evolution not being made clear whether it’s a science, philosophy, or subject in and of itself. You could theorize many reasons for why we started to cook our own food, Kinetic Energy=1/2 x Mass x Velocity^2, and Energy=Mass x Light^2 both fit Newton’s third law of thermodynamics in my opinion (Force=-Force^2) not Force=Mass x Acceleration, and Charles Darwin may have been the greatest philosopher to have walked the earth, but he’ll never be credited as such so long as preachers have a say. I cannot say for sure yet, since I just started, but I am giving vegan keto a go because I think it may help me. I also started smoking organic Natural American Spirit cigarettes again to my bump up within my income from government sanctioned Section 8 vouchers every month. This is more money; I just do not have any reasons the game has to be against the rich if it doesn’t have to be. There are obvious reasons we should tax the rich, they will fall in line with why we should not procreate biological children into debt slavery. Same with biological children that will consume animal products. I have lived the stressful 40-hour work weeks, and it is near impossible to stick to your morals and beliefs. Without work I have found it much easier, at least on medication, and I was brought up with a healthy relationship with food, so it was easier to obtain once all was in place. Against religious principles in mind (Amorality), people seem to prove them more patriotically than ethically. And appeals to patriotism seldom suffice against history like the theory of evolution will. That is my main argument. Why not treat it as such? If our ability to learn is incapacitated I would argue we have very little after that.
​
Notes:
Rope Theory Photoelectric Effect
What an accurate atom is…
Atom vs molecule…
Lazer goes through double glass mirror because of photoelectric effect…
Rope theory is a complete theory of physics…
Traditional theory of physics vs quantum mechanics vs Laplace and constructor theory…
​
It is clear our planet has disbanded any hope of the redemption of our global economy after the demise of oil. Oil is 80% more powerful than any other form of energy, and that means combined, air, water, and sun energy will still barely touch the 20% mark even if we focus all our infrastructure on those three sources. Yes, it is a problem of food, the industrial revolution has carried humanity through. From both an evolutionary and philosophical stance, be it the atoms in our bodies or the quantum gravity around us, we see danger, and no number of soft definitions can substantially probe that wrong. Why the glimmer of hope? I would say the glimmer of hope lies in the principles, beliefs, and science we carry on into the post industrious age.
​
More Notes:
Rope Theory Photoelectric Effect
What an accurate atom is…
Atom vs molecule…
Lazer goes through double glass mirror because of photoelectric effect…
Rope theory is a complete theory of physics…
Traditional theory of physics vs quantum mechanics vs Laplace and constructor theory…
Time in action can’t be measured because it is constantly in action. ---Atoms and Photons---
Eroticism vs Constructor theory…
Atoms in chaos of particle theory vs Atoms in proportion of wave theory…
Physics photons/electrons…
Lazer---double glass mirror…
Acceleration =π x Radius^2…
Type equation here…
I would like to make the assertion that as a human collective consciousness we are falling fast from what I will call at this time an enlightened scope of reality. I surmise debt slavery could be as bad as it has ever been. And yes, people moving into the bigger western civilization cities is stopping reproduction at the quickest rate in human history, due to the fact science has enabled us to be thorough in our own interconnected breeding rates. One might say, who is an anti-natalist, all is lost on the enlightened frontier. With absolute vigilance, and even a lean towards vindictiveness, it is still, and will always be, the human capacity to trivialize sentience and make its own. As the owner of sentience, we are not stewards of the planet. We are responsible caretakers. Do I believe we are doing the best we can? Typically, yes, this is what I agree with. As there are so many rudimentary problems with welfarism. We can deduce it might be a problem developing the socio-economic systems in Africa and South America because then they will have nuclear weapons, and we are unsure of that outcome. This is a very valid argument. The worst-case scenario would be nuclear war and the best case would be that these countries give up their traditional Catholic God beliefs. This isn’t too difficult to do. Many people become secular in their thinking, at least through adulthood, however, when they become old and needy, they pick religion right back up like they never left it. This is what happened to my grandfather. He always carried kind of an Einstein approach to God right into his dementia which I will say has claimed his life. Is it possible a disbelief in God can give us a better functioning brain? Probably something we will never truly know unless all the humans left on earth were atheist, since demons have played such a prevalent role in our past as societies and empires. I guess the questions should be asked. Are we just playing subjective quantitative roles in society in reducing the population? Are we deterministically intrinsically just playing out our roles? Or are we playing arbitrary selfish roles that are consequentially helping someone else do better in their life? I am by no means a pro-moralist or death philosopher; however, death plays a huge part in my philosophy, obviously from the animals in nature standpoint, the attrition rates are far too high for me to be comfortable with, and I don’t see that changing. For some reason it is hard for people to latch on to this equation, and if they claim to be anti-natalist, they are outing themselves to the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement subjective conclusion. So, is there any difference. I would say worldly and globally there must always be a fundamental difference between differentiating belief systems. That’s too obvious. Yet, the conformity to ones of another, or vice versa can be a problem to the main problem of sentience. In terms of human reproduction, we can find the illusion in ourselves that our lineage, bloodline or what have you can play an extravagant role in solving human problems if not mere reproduction for satisfactory means. This is a giant problem among enthusiasts thinking they are solving the problems of global warming. I fell into this category a little bit in the past. It is an impossible standard. On the other hand, you have conventional physics, however creative, still used as a weapon of false ingenuity. I will not use a false sense of “eternalism” that quantum mechanics is claiming to coincide with that puts all of us into subjective isolated experiments, unless of course we are playing roles in each other’s realities, then this substantiates their claim.
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More notes:
#DraftPhysics #NewtonianPhysics #EinsteinTheories…
Conventional Physics for the Rational Person (Light x Velocity Potential of Hydrogen x Radius x Momentum)…
​
Physics is a language unlike any other that many do not acquaint themselves with due to the extraordinary depth of the equations we find literally representing the universe. Many, if we are lucky, get to find out what the Big Bang and “Newton’s” atom is and never return to it so long as we live. Is it not for any reason? That we so regret the physics that is cast before our eyes if math does not compute? That spirituality should supersede science. The answer for any logical person is absolutely no, the most valuable science, particle physics, should definitely have a higher range of observants, opinions, and interaction, so as to not be interpreted as sheer math problems, but defining and most of all, expanding the conscious awareness of the Physical Universe to any well noted educated mind, enveloping the dream of founder of the American Atheist Society, Madalyn Murray O'Hair for conscious peaceful community. If we were not as subservient as we are right now to sports and were more psychologically judicial in all our ways to put more money into development of more structure that could teach real, foundational unified physics than economies and businesses, sentience would be exceptionally better off. Instead of prison training camps where only elite minds get scraped up into the backlash of “manipulated advertising physics”, anyone could learn and expound theories, and much more research and intentional comradery would take place to investigate even deeper into the biological physicality and elemental physics thoughtforms and mind graphs that are everywhere in Evolution. The “talking the physical universe to death argument” obviously is not the end all be all of life seeking purpose, and sentience should still be greatly outlasted as the arbiter of the mainstream. But I believe botany can help humans do what must be done in nature to bypass emotional standpoints caring for family and property rights, in other words, the current mainstream. Just expressing the importance of Newtonian Particle physics or even more so particle “theory in” physics. Why do we need more minorities engaged in particle physics? While IQ is not so innate as it is passed down, even in the west someone with “their average” IQ may still go to war. The problem is more circumstantial than passed down. So, building infrastructure or at the very least encouraging it, in Africa and South America, and a way of teaching eliminating privilege and endorsing philosophy and debate to oppose the nature of gladiator games as we head into fierce global decision in terms of the oil crisis and how we will lockdown populations once the earth can no longer transport import/export as it may please to. This is not being debated/talked about as it should be and needs to. It will be or there will be nothing left to talk about but Anarcho-Mayhem. Wrong? People in minority driven regions like Africa or South America have many capable people to derive non-violent philosophies and most westerners have yet to enable a theory of life divorced of violence. Anti-natalism really is one of the only ways. Nuclear biological physics really is the best way to perceive the evolutionary world at your fingertips so what is the hold up? Google is an obvious factor. Also, people like Musk do not speak up fairly about social issues. We need more insight, introspection, debate, discussion, less sports, sex, music, and hypocrisy. No matter what the cost, even human life, a problem of sentience should be perceived as a problem for all. Be as it may true that so long as Catholicism exists this might not be possible. If atheism does not take the throne, how can we win? The only way to find out the way I see it is to give it your all and try no matter working or disabled. Crutches or full body cast the winter fades and the sun blazes while the weak freeze and the abominations burn. Whatever is acceptable today should always be improved upon tomorrow. Obviously not all religion is bad like Rastafarian for one or some new age religions. But many have overstayed their welcome and need to leave. Humans should take a closer look at physics and learn to understand and interpret at will what the universe is doing. Before it’s too late and to become more aware consciously, scientific in thinking and in life, to make do with resources the best, they can.
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More notes:
Improving Upon vs Disappearing Worlds…
• Consequences of Eliminating 3rd Law + Gravity…

1. Force^1=-Force^2 over time would imply superposition…
   
2. Force=Gravity (Mass^1 x Mass^2 / Radius^2) …
   
3. The imperative is there is no general relativity…
   

• Anthropics/Terror Management Theory…

1. Anthropics create our psychology (kill or be killed) …
   
2. Science cannot figure out general relativity because ontology is not practical in the physical universe…
   
3. If one thing is observed two things can be happening but for a third mechanic to be happening in that moment as well may be absurd…
   

• Unification theory proves nuclear physics…

1. Schrodinger equation − ℏ2 2m∂2Ψ(x, t) ∂x2 + U(x, t)Ψ(x, t) = iℏ∂Ψ(x, t) ∂t…
   
2. Quantum mechanics seems to be enforced…
   
3. Is free energy corrupt physics?
   

​
Physics can be geometrically illustrated or precisely calculated. There should not have to be a difference if they logically exist at different rates. As if the population has dwindled down to 10 already or we are ready to take the morphine hit, and nothing else matters but death. Talk to me after you have a near death experience. Western diseases can be looked at as diseases of luxury or even statistics. Third world countries still celebrating religious passing of souls. Incredulous. Physics is a science, not a story like religion. The social commentary is overdone. Whether the particles are protons and electrons, or the wave particle duality is present before the morphine hit on the death bed will not make a difference. We are animals at best. We are theorizing. Again, if the physical disassociation exists geometrically or calculated is the same linear direction. The special relativity can be the news of the collective universe at present. General relativity cannot be proven by quantum mechanics because there is no God’s eye view to look through to view the physical universe. What is happening in the world is special relativity and what is happening in universe in relation to our position in it is general relativity. I would say measuring the speed of light is obviously not too sensical unless considering empty matter and what it theoretically could mean. You are observing the problem and giving it an abstract meaning, you are not changing it indefinitely, so to speak. You are only human. It is 1+1=2, not 2+2=5 to juxtapose 1984. Anthropics needing to disappear is an ignorance of psychology. We all are fighting to survive, through the blood of our ancestors at the very least. Another reason it cannot be God of the Gaps because even if it is Kinetic Energy instead of force the Kinetic Energy calculates the position of the particle while the force exchanges equally. Our psychologies work like KE theory, because we must label things we cannot explain. Mentally I do not have a problem with that. I would have gripes with proposing psychology is god of the gaps. Any notion towards the term for that matter when it comes to physics for lack of a better forgoing.
​
​
Tyler Johnson
2022
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Dedication
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I would like to dedicate this book to my treatment team for helping me out and stabilizing me on medication. Also, I would like to dedicate this book to my parents for being so supportive. And as well, Social Security because without it, none of this would be possible.
​
Table of Contents
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I: Do Not God
II: Efilism
III: Extinction
IV: Sex
V: Words
VI: Collapse
VII: Philosophy
VIII: Economics
IX: Science
X: Opposition
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Forward
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My current credibility is not much college, but enough to realize it may not really be for me. I started out wanting to be a professor. And, then understanding how, that may not be formidable, I was just to be a teacher, I finally gave up on that as well. That was 10 years ago, and now the madness haunts me day and night. It only gets more progressive, as sometimes I feel stable. My first interest was psychology, until I learned that what I liked about psychology was mostly introspection which mostly led to philosophy.
Preface
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I am convincing myself that I am writing this book out of gratitude and strength, but it is more jealously and hate, for what I have not been able to achieve on social media. Fortunately, this is what it has got to be. It is my hope now. In other words, I have the time and money to do something other than what I have failed at for so long on social media, so why not try it? I don’t really care if no one reads, although maybe it would be better that way, it can still be, to me at least, like a work of art I can keep close or give to people, and maybe even sell cheaply. When I say I don’t pride myself on these matters anymore, I really mean it, and I mean they really make me nauseous, especially when you start to swing for the more anti-libertarian, very strict, very liberal, somewhat doctrine, or cult-like propaganda Efilism has shown me it can be. This can become toxic, make people dangerous for themselves or others and people can and do get hurt just from words in my experience. It happens very rarely, but it happens with the mentally sick and that is just what statistics what have you understand as facts. I do not consider anyone the leader, or Efilism to be cult-like, in writing this, although I have, in its social media presence, thought about it in those ways in the past, unfortunately. I, now, am looking at it as the philosophy of Gary Mosher, a little bit different than what I know of David Benatar’s philosophy, which is only from hearsay at the time of writing this since I have not gotten to his book, Better Never to Have Been, yet. At times this book is meant to be serious, at other times it is meant to be more of a mockup. I am by no means a professional writer, but I certainly have a passion for it. It is just, I think I will tend to veer into passive-aggressive bits of information that are dialogically placed to reach pieces of persuasion or amusement, but come off as more nihilistic, which is accurate.
Introduction
​
Philosophy had its place with me, and I suppose, so did psychology, freshman year, aged 18 at Old Dominion University (Norfolk, Virginia) that my father was well-off enough to pay for. The year was 2010 and had just graduated high school with high hopes still for college and the job market. All this would be shortened by drug experiences that would lead me to finding my inner spirituality, one might call it. I had become the college-drop out in a well-to-do town full of Christianized suburbanites. I had wanted to be a few things in college until mental illness disabled me, kept me tied to psychiatric wards and my father’s money until I was 26 and able to live off government welfare. During that time Alcoholics Anonymous was a social group, which was enduringly beneficial as well. It was around this time, being left on my own, I was able to discover efilism, antinatalism, and more about veganism. Things were not steady for another year or so and then I was able to get it together. I do not wish to implore my psychological story, but if I feel it gives the reader context, I will, thinking it is best for the philosophical discussion. Is my brain working off madness, or pure reason? You may decide for yourself. I just do not want the book to be too existentially analytical, but if it must be, it must. Right now, I am wishing I could turn off my nightly entertainment habits, or the luxuries, at least, of my entertainment, financially, would cease to exist, and be no more, for I have been listening to Socrates dialogues and they must have inspired me none the less. Now I am 30, writing this book. I do not pride myself on calling myself any of the labels anymore, as I’m not a professional, but I have before, and it helped me to get to where I am today. Again, I know it is not helpful to the philosophical dialogue to continually impress upon the reader my background, so I will try to get that out of the way now. I live a very isolated life, talking to very few people, yet still more than some, which I prefer. But the mind is a craniological mode constantly playing tricks and it is good to keep the roaring lions tamed in their cages from time to time, as not all people from the past, Socrates included are perfect to me, and not even Jesus was a god to me as he would have still had the bodily functions of any regular human, the real character who was the man, that is, and not just one the anthropomorphic interpretations of the universal Creator. I think genetically these are the best years of my life with modern science, but I do not think I have good genetics and think I must have had predispositions to some mental illness. I can still study and maintain, but again, my craniological modes are nonsense, either up or down, I am either exhausted or manic, and not ever in between, week in and week out. I just feel this would only affect me with school as I cannot work. Nothing to pass on genetically, let alone become a parent, carrying the burden thereof. I aborted one fetus in my mid-twenties, thankfully, and it is still one of the top three things that has happened in my life. The other two would have to be getting on meds and disability (as well as Section 8) in no order. If I had had the baby and not been on meds I would just be locked up full time, most likely, in a metal hospital, anyway, and one of the main reasons I am glad I did not have the baby is because I would not of been able to take care of it with my condition and figured I would have eventually had to miss my child support payments and would have been locked up that way. Which could have been immeasurably bad. That is just the truth, but of course the baby was spared a terrible upbringing as well by a couple of drug addicts, or if it was lucky, it may have been put up for adoption. I played American football mostly and was very good at it. My high school football team won back-to-back state championship games, never losing a game. During my junior year I was on a casual visit to West Virginia University on our bye-week visiting an old teammate. Unfortunately, we got into a fight and my friend bumped his head and wound up in a coma and never came out of out of it. This would trigger some PTSD and cause some depression eventually leading to manic episodes before I got out of high school. I want the reader to consider, above all else, I am an abject denialist, meaning I am in denial of all things. Though I claim satanism/Pythagoreanism, I am in abject poverty to the state and its institutions, medications mostly, meaning, in the old times I would have been most likely tortured to death or held against my will, or on so much medication I would have forgot who I was, in an insane asylum. I am well off now, all things considered. This fight against nihilism, my worldview, starts genetically passed on through a mental illness or extreme desire for the academics or passed on through a trauma, where one will naturally find themselves in what I call the three percentile of society that does not fit in, finds themselves lost, without the ability to form relationships, physic vampires to some, demons to others, or geniuses, but rather, since I am one of them, and represent this class, I will say they are introspective individuals that can speculate on deeper levels than most. They might be homeless or professors, but chances are, you were not born to be one of them. In relative terms, and in the philosophical sense, all of us are and are not one of them. We are all people just the same, all ticking different clocks. My clock looks different than yours, but it still tells the same time, or the correct time, more precisely. This is all just more clearly to say, that to know yourself it is important to study great minds, and that is my only task here, before I start to open my own pathways accordingly.

26 Apr Update: https://reddit.com/singaporemusicchat/comments/1cde6nmegalist_sg_gigs_concerts_raves_may_2024_labou

12 Apr, Fri - Esplanade's A Tapestry of Sacred Music weekend

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• Singapore Symphony Orchestra: Kreisler, Stravinsky and Mozart w Nikolaj Szeps-Znaider - Day 1 of 2, Victoria Concert Hall, $15
• Whispers and Rezrex (THA metalcore, hardcore) ft Flames of Conviction, renegade, xdesterx, Aliwal Arts Centre (nicoll highway), $48
• Indie: Rabak Records & Phil's Studio Presents: Greek Fire - ft SFX, Smear, State Escape, Sugar, punk rock, alternative and indie music, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $20 ($24 walk-in)
• Cpop: Elton Lee 李泓伸 作品音乐会 - 「START」, Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music - Concert Hall L1, free
• Chinese Opera: 上海越剧《五女拜寿》Shanghai Yue Opera "Five Daughters Celebrating Grand Birthday", SCCC Auditorium @ 1 Straits Blvd (shenton way), $22
• ESPLANADE Chinese Opera: Peony Pavilion 《牡丹亭》 by 江苏省苏州昆剧院 Suzhou Kunqu Opera Theater of Jiangsu 青春版, ESPLANADE, $50

 

• Esplanade's A Tapestry of Sacred Music weekend

 

• DJ, Escape 56 Anniversary celebration Day 1 - Rey Colino (BEL house & techno) ft Robo X, Mako, and Brian, also some art installation, lgbt friendly, $50 or student dc
• DJ, Tuff: BTRH feat. DEZ, JOSHUA DILLON & TMDDJ, tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $35
• DJ, Club El Pico Presents: Gifted Fire (NYC Organic house & Afro house beats), members club @ 6 Hongkong St (clarke quay), free
• DJ, iKi: TRANCE4M International ft The Return of Paul Denton (IRE hard trance, tech trance), club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), $50
• DJ, ØGravity x Thugshop Presents – Weekender with MARSH (UK deep progressive house), MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $57,
• DJ, Zouk: ZHU - pres by Collective Minds, zouk club clarke quay, tix 🎟 $78
• DJ, Marquee: 5th Anniversary - Tiësto, marquee nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, $100 or student dc

13 Apr, Sat

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• Moon Byul 1ST WORLD TOUR (of MAMAMOO), capitol theatre city hall, $168
• Kelly Yu 于文文《魔方视界》,Singapore Indoor Stadium, $88
• CHA EUN-WOO 2024 Just One 10 Minute (Mystery Elevator), The Star Vista Theatre (buona vista), $128
• Marquee: Marquee 5th Anniversary presents: Chung Ha (I.O.I,), marquee nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, $100 or student dc
• AniVenture: Anime Music with traditional Chinese Instruments, SCCC Auditorium @ 1 Straits Blvd (shenton way), $35
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• DJ Fest Day to Night, 4xFEST - 25 acts across 4 stages of underground House, Techno, Bass and Psytrance, Luxuria Lounge @ Tekka Place Mall Rooftop (rochor), tix & full list 🎟 $37
• DJ, Endless Return: 4LLEN Experimental Genre-Bending Rave - Rosemainy Buang of Antarmuka (SG), Teya Logos (PH), obese.dogma777 (PH), Rudi Osman, Mervin Wong (SG), butoh by XUE (SG), 72-13 Theatre @ 72-13 Mohamed Sultan Rd (robertson quay), $40
• DJ Day to Night 🏖🏢, Kampong Boogie x Element x House of Cane - Afternoon Pool Party Hiphop (DJs Prav, KNRK,,L.I.A, Mr Gray) - Night Tech House Party (DJs Zushan, Furious Styles), Pullman Hotel Singapore @ 1 Hill Street, $25
• DJ, AFROgroove pres DJ Marie's Birthday Bash, with DJ NAd & DaBishopOnDMix (Afrobeats, Hip-hop/RnB and Reggaeton), Blu Jaz @ bali ln (bugis), 2F, $20
• DJ, Sunny Side @ Hideout Rooftop Party - DJs Gan, Moss, Fatcatheartattack, dee, (sho)&tell - garage & house with some R&B/hip hop, Hideout @ 11 Hamilton rd (w/ nothing fancy wine bar, jalan besabendemeer), $20
• DJ, ARK 11: with Entity Presents: DJ Inquisitive (SG oriental rave), ARK 11 Club @ Orchard Central Mall L11, ~$50 soldout but doors avail
• DJ, CÉ LA VI: Club Lounge Tea Dance ft Stephen Day & Fadile, marina bay sands hotel rooftop bar-club 🗼, $38
• DJ, 🏖Tipsy Unicorn Beach Club Laidback Luke - 🌊The Bermuda Festival Day 2 of 3 - includes 4 experiential zones, Tipsy Unicorn Beach Club 🏖 @ 36 Siloso Bch Walk (Sentosa), $25
• DJ, Zouk: BONKA (AUS hardstyle, and main room edm), zouk club clarke quay, from $45
• DJ, Soul Collective presents: Elif (TUR-BAR melodic deep house), The Riverhouse Clarke Quay, $37,
• DJ, North East Social Club pres. Denham Audio & Mani Festo (UK, bass, hardcore, breaks) ft Kiat and Tashasan, tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $35
• DJ, Escape 56 Anniversary celebrations Day 2 - Massimiliano Pagliara (ITA house & techno, disco, electro) ft Meraki Soul, LoyBoy, and Jas, also some art installation, lgbt friendly $50 or student dc
• DJ, ØGravity x Thugshop Presents - Weekender with SIMON DOTY (CAN prog house), MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $57

14 Apr, Sun

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• ESPLANADE's A Tapestry of Sacred Music Last Day
  
• E: Sunday Morning Gospel by Callie Day, indoor concourse 11am, free
  
• E: Tēvaram: Garlands of Praise by Othuvar Vaidyanathan, Viknash Balakrishnan and Shreya Gopi, indoor concourse, 215pm free
  
• E: Sacred Organ Works by Dong-ill Shin, concert hall 3pm, free, RSVP
  
  • E: Pipe Organ Tour by Dr Evelyn Lim, 5pm 6pm 7pm free, RSVP
• E: Call to the Divine: Music of Sufi Rites by Kudsi Erguner & Muezzins of İstanbul, theatre 430pm, free, RSVP
  
• E: Kecak: Sanghyang Dedari by Eka Suwara Santhi, Gamelan Pinda Sari and Sanggar Langlang Jagat, outdoor forecourt garden 630pm, free
  
  • E: Talk: Unveiling the Fusion of Dance and Religion in Balinese Rituals by Dr Irving Chan Johnson, recital studio 1pm, recital studio 1pm.free
• E: Taoist Processional Arts – Guardians of the Gods and Dance of the Qilin by Zhong Lian Dian Folk Arts and Yan Wong Cultural Troupe, courtyard 7pm 830pm, free
  
• E: Songs of the Life of Guru Nanak by Gurmat Sangeet Academy at the Sikh Centre, outdoor 745pm, free
  
• E: Throat Singers of Tuva by Huun-Huur-Tu, outdoor theatre 930pm, free
  

15 Apr, Mon

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16 Apr, Tue

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17 Apr, Wed - Clarke Quay St Fest

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18 Apr, Thu

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19 Apr, Fri

• ENNO CHENG 鄭宜農 , lion studios @ blk 115b commonwealth drive L2, $124
• dil-e-naadan - A musical concert with Kavita Seth (sufi music, bollywood), Victoria Concert Hall, $60
• TGIF Music Station 周5音乐站 - Annete Lee 李安, Lee Sung Chan李诚燦 , Sherraine Law 罗翊绮, Felicia Kusumo 孔俐蒽, Likie Low 刘礼齐 by Singapore Chinese Cultural Ctr x YES 933 fm , SCCC Concourse @ 1 Straits Blvd (shenton way), free
• Indie, Core: That Incredible Gig In April - TARIOT, RECOVER, AGGRESSIVE RAISIN CAT, Aarcade, Line Drive, Minute Made, mix of pop punk, metalcore, alt rock, hxc etc, Centre 42 @ 42 Waterloo Street (bras basah), $19
• Indie: Xingfoo & Roy (emo reunion) - ft camping & carpet golf, fans of midwest emo, alt rock , starts after 8, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $25 Doors Only
  • Indie: Frogs and Friends Vol.3 - Shuffle Squad, Ruby Rocks, Sonicberries, rock, starts 530, Phil's Studio, $20
• Indie: Intermission Party Programme: Majelis Perayaan - INTERMISSION, ARE, Bellied Star, acts: post punk revival, experimental rock, alt grungy rock, LASALLE college of the arts Mcnally (rochor), Flexi space, free RSVP
• Kallang Wave: Ride The Waves Rhythm Fest - LAYYI (pop), The Young Folks (rock-pop, eng +chinese), Drunk Jeans (from NP Amplify), DJ sRaven x DJ Mink, Shopping Mall Outdoor Bs. Stadium Waterfront (stadium mrt), free
• Reggae, Blu Jaz: Bushmen Reggae Party, Blu Jaz cafe & bar @ bali ln (bugis), free
• Reggae, El Pico: Reggae Remedy (Ska, Rocksteady, Dancehall & Reggae), Cuban Members Club @ 6 Hongkong St (clarke quay), free
• Mandala Club: Montunico (🇨🇺 Latin band, Afro-cuban), Mandala member's club @ 31 Bukit Pasoh Rd (outram) $33
• Jazz Loft: WOODSHEDDING BY G&T DUO (Rachma Lim and Ernest Tan), Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis),$24
• Maduro Jazz: Where Genres Collide by Mila Vidanovic Trio (jazz, pop, originals), maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38+ drink credits
• InterContinental Jazz Lounge: Jacintha, InterContinental Singapore @ 80 Middle Road (bugis), $38
• Cool Cats Lounge: Nick Zavior presents The Modern Soul Man - 2 of 3, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $28
• Chamber Music: Lunchtime Concerts at ACM x Yong Siew Toh Conservatory: Voice, Asian Civilisations Museum @ 1 Empress Place (raffles place), free
• NLB Peking Opera vs Western Classical Composer Pianist Chen Le Presents Double Feature - Peking opera, soprano, violin, saxophone, piano, small performance, National Library @ bugis, Lobby, free walk in ok
• MOJO Chinese Orchestra - The Rising Sun, NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory - main Concert Hall L1, free
• Singapore Chinese Orchestra x NAFA School of Music (SCO-NAFA) - NAFA Campus Rhapsody 2024 (校园音乐会 2024), NAFA Lee Foundation Theatre @ 151 Bencoolen St (bencoolen), free

 

• Esplanade: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in Concert - day 1 of 2 - Metropolitan Festival Orchestra, theatre, $79
• Esplanade: Red Forests by Building Fire (alternative acoustic & electronic), outdoor theatre, free -Esplanade: EveryBody Dance Now by Various dance studios, indoor concourse, free
• 19-21 Apr: Esplanade: Listen to See by Restless Dance Theatre , experiential dance, concert hall foyer, $25
  • Others
• Little Island Brewing Co Changi Village, Rock Revival, Changi Village bar
• Clarke Quay Riverside Introducing PULSE: a fresh live entertainment ft GRAVITY band, The Riverside @ clarke quay (barestaurant), ex Yang Club

 

• DJ, CULTURE Feel My Seoul (kpop night), Cherry Discothequ @ 133 cecil st (cbd), $26
• DJ, UnfilteredPresents Flashback Friday - 00s y2k music, pop, rock, high school musical, hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), $30
• DJ, Phil Studio: aRapiano 2 - ARAB-AFRO (afrobeats, arabic, amapiano) - DJs Ollie Des, Badgaldidi, SWTLKR, DJ K, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $20,
• DJ , iki: PUSLE SG - Latin Kings Return - DJs The Aidilone, Naddz, Zart (Guaracha, afrobeats, dancehall Reggaeton), club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), $22
• DJ, Offtrack: DJ Kindergarchy (deep electronica), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, XclusiV: Canto & Retro Party - DJ Chris & Stevenson , Xclusiv southeast asian Restaurant Club (fmr. Prism) @ marina square
• DJ, Club Hell Bottoms in Hell, gay lgbt club @ 113 telok ayer st
• Drag Bar: Tuckshop: TuckOff, closing month, 43 Neil Road (maxwell), lgbt drag bar-club
• DJ, Potato Head Rooftop: Sundown Circle - Knight n Dae (baeleric House, disco), 36 Keong Saik Rd, bistro bar
  • Downstairs: Sengwei & KFC (disco & house)
• DJ, Blu Jaz: Back To The 2000s (Hip Hop x RnB x Pop), Blu Jaz cafe & bar @ bali ln (bugis) L2, $11
• DJ, Brooklyn Bar: Urban Rhythms at Brooklyn Bar SG (hiphop cocktail bar), Bar @ 14 Ann Siang Rd (maxwell), free
• DJ, W Sentosa Cove: Classical Label Fridays - Funk & Soul April - DJ KidG of EatMePopTart, Woobar @ W Singapore Sentosa Cove, bar

 

• DJ, Zouk: 100% Bulletproof (hardstyle, hiphop, big room), zouk club clarke quay, from $35
• DJ, Wallich Manor :Koflow & anrev (they are good turntablists btw), Wallich Manor Lounge @ Sofitel City Centre Hotel L6 (tg pagar)
• DJ, Drip: Chambers - Keagan Belle Joon (hiphop top40s pop), drip club @ 100 Orchard Rd Concorde Hotel, $27
• DJ, HQ: Thugshop Presents - UVB (🇩🇪 industrial techno), headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay,$36
• DJ, ARK 11: Presents: Brennan Heart (🇳🇱 euphoric hardstyle), ARK 11 Club @ Orchard Central Mall L11, $35-$50
• DJ, NAGA(SOUNDS) 5.0 - ROMAIN FX (🇭🇰🇫🇷 dream house, fauve rec) + KIMOJI + SHO&TELL + KINS, tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $29
• DJ, ØGravity x Thugshop Presents – ANDHIM (🇩🇪 tech house, organic house, superfriends rec), MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $47
• DJ, Cancelled: Marquee presents Ben Nicky (🇬🇧 trance, edm ), marina bay sands. Replaced with house dj

 

20 Apr, Sat - Uh Record Store Day

• SLOT MACHINE Tour 2024, gateway theatre bukit merah, $88
• IU - H.E.R. WORLD TOUR 2024- 1 of 2, indoor stadium, $228
• Indie: NAEDR US TOUR FUNDRAISER ft Subsonic Eye, Amateur Takes Control, 7nightsatsea , screamo, rock shoegaze dream pop, post-rock, Scape Orchard L5 (somerset), IG 📸 $30 pre, $35 limited door if presale full
• Indie: DXS presents Groovy Night ft Blush Hotel, Smear, The Purnams, Grizzly Bears, Off Topic, Curtain Wax, Midway, alt rock, garage, 60s surf pop etc, woodlands, $20 doors only
• Indie: NORTHERN DROPOUTS! Decaying Daydream - Line Drive, Bear The Remedy, Jimbo of Portsdown, Impulse, Pillow Head, indie rock mix, Lithe House @ 23 Madras St, $23
• Kallang Wave Fest: Ride The Waves Rhythm Fest - Arya Yunata (pop-soul), The Mad Trio (pop-rock, eng chinese), Oddream (kpop, dance), DJs Sharkboy, Duggan, Young, Shopping Mall Outdoor Bs. Stadium Waterfront (stadium mrt), free
• Indie Zombie's 36th Adventure - GIG + Poetry + Art Exhibition + Lepak, from grunge to noise, to folk punk to metalcore, rad studio 345, donate $10-$15
• Indie: TaleDrops x Sangriento - Sit In The Mix Silent Concert Experiment Show (headphones gig), visual kei adjacent progressive rock/metal, NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory Recording Studio, $12 dm
• Indie: lewloh felt sense tiny concert (singer songwriter, folk pop), 23 Kampong Bahru Rd (outram), $65
• Japanese Indie: Singapore K'On Club at Blu Jazz, Blu Jaz @ bali ln (bugis), eng infoℹ️ free
• Synthesizers: Synth Commune - Monthly Open Synth Jam, The Underground @ Tanglin Community Club (245 Whitley Rd, stevens mrt), free
• JAZZ Loft: Sneha Menon & Chok Kerong), Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis), $24
• Maduro Jazz: Blues + Soul = Jazz by R 'n R (Rick Smith and Richard Jackson), maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38+ drink credits
• Cool Cats: Nick Zavior presents The Modern Soul Man - 3 of 3, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $28
• Temasek Junior College Symphonic Band Presents : Prelude 41, Singapore Conference Hall @ 7 Shenton Way, $15
• YST: Orchestral Institute: Sunset Cavatine, NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory - main Concert Hall L1 , $10
• Singapore Symphony Orchestra: Magic Hour @ Raffles Hotel , Raffles Hotel Lawn, free
• ESPLANADE: Singapore Symphony Orchestra: Brahms Requiem and Schumann Cello Concerto, Esplanade Concert Hall, $15

 

• ESPLANADE: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in Concert - day 2 of 2, theatre, $79
• ESPLANADE x LASALLE: School of Contemporary Music Festival, at esplanade
  • E: Chelsea Aw (funk fusion pop), outdoor theatre 630pm, free
  • E: Danial Sahrani and his band (rock, pop punk to blues soul), outdoor theatre 8pm, free
  • E: YAØ (rnb, pop, asian city pop), outdoor theatre 9pmfree
• Esplanade: EveryBody Dance Now by Various dance studios, indoor concourse, free
• Esplanade: Listen to See by Restless Dance Theatre, $25
• Esplanade Dance: The Running Show by Monica Bill Barnes & Company, in collaboration with Singapore Dancers, Waterfront Theatre, $35
• Others
• Chinese Theatre 一人一故事剧场《小时候》 When I was young, Stamford Arts Centre 155 Waterloo Street, $18
• NLB x Queensway Secondary Guitar Ensemble: Melodies of Home, Queenstown Public Library - Level 1 Programme Zone, free
• The Wind Academia TWA’s inaugural Concert Experience, city on a hill auditorium, $12
• The Blackbird: Cloud 9 (70s-80s rock), Blackbird Music Bar @ Gillman Barracks (labrador park),
• W Hotel Sentosa Cove: Woo Bar Live, W singapore sentosa cove,
• Small Rock Gig: Megalomania ft Shades & Cronkite Satellite, music parlour @ peninsula shopping ctr 4F, free
• Jyu Lae Bistro: Synergy Band (retro Chinese 80s - 90s ), chinese live house @ suntec city L1
• Live & DJ Party: Mantravine x Magik Monk's Cosmic City 002 - ft RPDM & Nashwa Bliss, Mantravine, Raja Rani, James Selva, Rui Tang, Paulina Impala, psychedelic tribal vibe, Mortar & Pestle rooftop bar @ 269 South Bridge Rd, $35

 

• DJ, Degenerave: Breaking The Brain - Metamoksha, JumbogoatXXL, Zaicliff, Dez, Ayne, a bit more techno inclined, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), IG 📸 $27
• DJ, EatMePOPTART: E/M/P/T: ELECTRIC FEEL with weelikeme, Ya5th (80s pop, disco, new wave, house night), Projector X Golden Village Ruby Lounge @ Cineleisure Orchard L6, $15
• DJ Dance Cypher, BASS WERK music and dance party, 1v1 all styles battle, gaza fundraiser - ft. Akasounds,alias, b10n, Wild Pearl Microclub @ 195 Pearl's Hill Terrace (chinatown mrt), L2, $17
• DJ, Bollywood Version Escape Room by Brown Roast, hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), $30
• DJ, C.L.U.P (Combined Local University Party): Highh GPA - One Last Party Before Finals Week, Highh Party @ Pan Pacific Hotel, 7 raffles blvd (esplanade, promenade), $30
• DJ, iki: Latino Anthem (Reggaeton x Latin Pop), club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), $16
• DJ, aCid: House and Techno - ft DJs EKo, LovKey, Krave, D-Linez by Asia.wav, Acid Bar & Restaurant @ 180 Orchard Rd (Somerset mrt), $22
• DJ, Reggae: MOONSTONE Bar: Wild Fyah Afrobeats Reggae Party, Moonstone BAR @ 103 Amoy St, free
• DJ from Afternoon, 🗼🏖Kunda Roopftop Pool Party (housey, bit afro), El Chido @ Pullman Hotel (1 Hill St, City Hall) , $24
• DJ, 🗼🏖Feel Africa: SOAKED by AFRICA Parties SG & Saint Ben (Afrobeats, Amapiano, Kizomba, Zouk, Kompa, Reggaeton, Coupe Decale, Ndombolo etc), 1-Altitude Coast@ The Outpost Hotel Sentosa L7 , IG 📸 $30
• DJ, 🏖 Rumours Beach Club RUSHH pres. Secret Pals (amapiano, baile funk re-edits 🇵🇭🇸🇬, bali style beach club, sentosa
• DJ, iki: Get Real's Latino Anthem - reggaeton music all night with olliedes, nadd, jag, hadi, aldi, marie, club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), $25
• DJ, Offtrack: DJ Jenn Chunes + Leland (dubs and disco), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, Zodiac: Night Club Party ft Drag performers Midas Touch, Princess Pee, Zodiac Bar Club @ 50 Prinsep St (bencoolen), $42
• Drag Party: RIOT! CLASH , hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), $25
• DJ, Club Hell: Sauna in Hell, gay lgbt club @ 113 telok ayer st, $30
• DJ, Entrance Cocktail Bar: LesBiReal - The Comeback w DJ Che'Molly, tarot, `lgbt, 22A Tanjong Pagar Rd, (maxwell) $22
• DJ, Salud Cocktail Bar SA1UD: Salud turns 1! - DJ Lokies Khan & DJ ESTR, performances, straight-friendly, 19 keong saik rd (outram/maxwell), $25
  • DJ, Blu Jaz: Metamorphosis Masquerade Party (afro, french, electro funk, latino, nu disco), Blu Jaz @ bali ln (bugis), L2, $16

 

• DJ, MDLR: rememories - DJs Minna-no-Kimochi みんなのきもち (🇯🇵 Trance, deconstructed), Mobilegirl (🇩🇪progressive electronic rnb vibe) , Why Be (🇰🇷 mashup, deconstructed) and DJ Grogu (🇸🇬 aka et aliae), i listened: floaty trance-ish rave, but more leftfield, MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $37
• DJ, Marquee: Marquee Utopia, marquee nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, $20 or student dc
• DJ HQ: Thugshop Presents - JAMAICA SUK (🇩🇪🇺🇸 techno dark hypnotic ) ft Halal Sol & Gabriel DeSanctis, headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay, $36
• DJ, CÉ LA VI - QRION (🇯🇵deep melodic prog house), marina bay sands hotel rooftop bar-club 🗼, $38
• DJ, Unmute x FomoHomo Invites: FAFI ABDEL NOUR (🇸🇾90s funky house)7), lgbt friendly, tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $29
• DJ, Behind the Green Door: DJIBRIL CISSE (🇫🇷🇨🇮 ex Liverpool / Auxerre striker) plays afro-beats, disco, garage house, Behind the Green Door @ 97 Duxton Road (maxwell), $35
• DJ, ZOUK: ANJUNADEEP label (melodic deep prog house 🇬🇧 label), zouk club clarke quay, $55

21 Apr, Sun

• IU - H.E.R WORLD TOUR - 2 of 2, indoor stadium, $228
• C Pop Mandopop: NUS Voices Emerge 2024: 人生海海, NUS university cultural centre, $15
• Kallang Wave: Ride The Waves Rhythm Fest - JASON YU (pop-soul), Arya Yunata (pop-soul), Oddream (kpop, dance), DJs Sonnie, Sols, Jungle Cats, this is pop, acoustic pop-rock-folk, edm?, Shopping Mall Outdoor Bs. National Stadium (stadium mrt), free
• NLB: The Art of Contemporary Fusion Music by the TO Ensemble w Composer-pianist Tze Toh - Indian violin w /Lazar T. Sebastine, Saxophone w/ Teo Boon Chye - carnatic, jazz, classical, National Library (bugis) Lobby, Level 1, free,
• Piano Recital: SIT Pianissimo April Unify l, MusArt Co-Create Recital Hall @ 10 Raeburn Park (old tg pagar railway stn area), *free
• The Voices of Singapore Ladies Choir: VSL10: A Journey Beyond Music-making - 10th anniversary cocnert, Victoria Concert Hall, $35
• Nostra Musica Unitatis (Combined Choir Concert Catholic Junior College, Dunman Secondary and Mayflower Secondary School), SOTA Concert Hall (bencoolen, dhoby), $19

 

• Esplanade: RaGa Sangamam – A Carnatic Music Vocal Duet Concert by Ranjani & Gayatri (RaGa Sisters), - SIFAS Festival of Arts 2024, theatre, $40
• ESPLANADE: SAF Central Band In Harmony 41: Colours, concert hall 5pm, free
• Esplanade Dance: Riftsurgence by Republic Polytechnic’s Jammerz Arena, outdoor theatre 7pm 830,free
• ESPLANADE: Kavipperukku - A Tamil spoken word poetry performance, Esplanade Recital Studio, $5
• Esplanade: EveryBody Dance Now by Various dance studios, indoor concourse 715 8pm,free
• 19-21 Apr: Esplanade: Listen to See by Restless Dance Theatre , experiential dance, concert hall foyer, $25
• Esplanade Dance: The Running Show by Monica Bill Barnes & Company, in collaboration with Singapore Dancers, Waterfront Theatre, $35
• LAST Theatre: Esplanade Presents - How I Learned to Drive by Paula Vogel dir. Renne Yeong, Theatre Studio, $32
• OTHERS
• 17-21 Apr: Clarke Quay Street Festival: Live Dance DJ Art by Akira (JP), Pacho the Acrobat (MX), Adelene the Aerialist (SG), Richard Comedic Stunt (IT), Rob the Escaplologist (UK), Satya Hula Hoopist (AU), Central Fountain Square @ clarke quay (center area b/w read & clarke st), free
• Istana Open House, istana presidential palace, dhoby ghaut, free

 

• DJ, Wild Pearl CARGO BIKE RIDE and DJ with Secret Pals, ONE MARINA BOULEVARD @ 230pm
  • Afters DJ, Groovetop Slow Jamz Sunday - DJs Ash Ghazali, Dee and DREM (soul, slow jamz rnb), overeasy - american diner @ one fullerton (bs merlion)
• DJ, 5210PM's - SUNDAY MESS 5 ft DJ HeliosXL, Gourmetpark @ 66 Kampong Bugis (kallang riverside park, bs golden mile area), tix 🎟 $16
• DJ, Groovetop Slow Jamz Sunday - DJs Ash Ghazali, Dee and DREM (soul, slow jamz rnb), overeasy - american diner @ one fullerton (bs merlion)
• Drag Bar: Tuckshop: Nip Tuck, closing month, 43 Neil Road (maxwell), lgbt drag bar-club
• DJ, Tanjong Beach Club: One with Aldrin Beach Club 🏖 @ 120 Tanjong Beach Walk, Sentosa

22 Apr, Mon

• 叶子宸 Paul Ye Piano Recital Singapore Debut 2024, Victoria Concert Hall, $18
• Esplanade: Vocal Associates Ensemble of Young Voices , indoor concooursefree
• SAJC Guitar Ensemble: Overtone: Melodies from the Heart, Esplanade Recital Studio, $20
• Esplanade: Nan Hua High School Symphonic Band , Concert Hall, $16
• Candlelight: Tribute to Queen by Vox String Quartet, CHIJMES hall, left $77 url: https://www.esplanade.com/whats-on?startDate=22-Apr-2024&endDate=22-Apr-2024
• DJ & Party, Smoke & Mirrors Rooftop Bar: The placing 2nd on Timeout's Best Rooftop Bars globally Party, Rooftop Bar @ National Gallery (city hall) - 1 St. Andrew's Road L6

23 Apr, Tue

• Haken - Live in Singapore (prog rock/metal), L5 @ Gr.ID Mall (bencoolen), $79
• Cool Cats: The Blues Revue with Dansen John Band , nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $20
• Esplanade: Music Circle Harmonies: A Journey from Bach to Disney by The Music Circle, indoor concourse, free
• Esplanade: CHIJ Secondary School Concert Band , Esplanade Concert Hall, $15
• Candlelight: Best of Joe Hisaishi w Vocalise String Quartet, CHIJMES, left $77

Other Events

• 19 Apr - 9 Jun Musical: Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda, marina bay sands, $80
• Till 28 Apr: Theatre Molière’s Tartuffe: The Imposter by Wild Rice, The Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre @ Wild Rice, Funan (city hall), $35 ($25 students)
• Till 28 Apr: Musical Theatre Little Shop of Horrors adapted by SING'THEATRE (comedy rock) SOTA Drama Theatre, $38
• 19-28 Apr: Musical Secondary: The Musical by Checkpoint Theatre (written & composed by weish of .gif sub:shaman, dir huzir sulaiman), Victoria Concert Hall, $45
• 18-30 Apr: Per°Form Open Academy of Arts and Activations, 72-13 Mohamed Sultan Road (robertson quay, fort canning mrt), donation
• 19, 20, 24 Apr: re:ACT Forum Theatre Fest 2024: inwardBOUND pres. With(Out) Benefits dir by nora neo-crothers, the arts house @ old parliament (city hall), $50-
• 22-26 Apr: The LASALLE Show 2024: School of Contemporary Music Fest 2024 – BA (Hons) Music graduate recitals, LIVE at Lasalle mcnally campus (rochor) and online, free
  • 25 Apr: The LASALLE Show 2024: The Tin Can People - Theatre/Performance,free
• 23 Apr: Talk: Asia Research Institute - ART FOBY/OF THE "PUBLIC" - Pluralizing public space through arts and cultures in asia , t:> works @ 72-13 mohamed sultan road (fort canning, robertson quay)
• 25 Apr: Music Movie: Hendrick's Sunset Cinema Tanjong Beach Opening - Sofia Coppola's Priscilla (& Elvis Presley), Sentosa Tanjong Beach (harbourfront), $48

24 Apr, Wed - Pink moon at 7:23pm

• Happy Sing Along 欢喜来唱歌 - SCCC’s dialect concert series ft Marcus Chin, Lee Peifen, and Hao Hao,, SCCC Auditorium @ 1 Straits Blvd (shenton way), $4
• Hard Rock Cafe:Ladies Rock the World, hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), $1
• Cool Cats Jazz: The Jazz Sessions: Michelle SgP Trio, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $20
• Esplanade: The A Cappella Society’s Youth Voices and Children’s Pop Choir , indoor concourse free
• 24 Apr-11 May: Theatre: Backstage Betrayal, A Crack the Case Mystery (Advisory - Some Mature Content), KC Arts Centre @ 20 Merbau Rd (robertson quay, fort canning mrt), $68
• DJ, Phil Studio: STAND UP COMEDY & RETRO DJ NIGHT with dmc productiuons (80s 90s), Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), free
• DJ, Gotti Italian Restaurant: Tropical Nights, Tequila Lights (afrobeats, nu disco), 78 amoy st
• DJ, MidFreq Music Collective x Armoury pres. Vinyl Nights ft Jason Itchi/Abery, armoury steaks and craft beer @ orchard central L11 (somerset mrt)
• DJ, Exit Stage Left's A Night of Soul Vinyl Night, Exit Stage Left Bar / Speakeasy @ 85 desker rd
• Party, Fate: Moe Moe Q x FATE by havefun - Kawaii Maid Day - Maid Dress Up & Dance Night, Mini con, Maid cafe, After Party , Fate by Havefun - club and ktv @ orchard cineleisure L8, tix 🎟 $38

25 Apr, Thu

• BOYS LIKE GIRLS - live in singapore day 1 of 2, Capitol Theatre @ city hall, $91
• * Flying V Metal Bar: Neal Moore, Acoustic Heavies, Helluvakhai, Bar at Adelphi City Hall B1, free/bar
• Piano Recital by Bryan Soo - A Journey Unveiled (Poulenc, Liebermann, and Chopin.), Laselle College of the Arts @ 1 McNally Street - SIA theatre, free,
• Jazz Loft: "Soir de fêtes" with the Horns Are Unique Jazz Ensemble, Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis) $24
• Esplanade: Sattva - The musical spirit of youth by Sattva Ensemble (classical indian, sufi), indoor concourse,free
• Mad & Midas Shelf Sessions ft The Jukuleles band, Mad & Midas cocktail bar @ 39 ann siang hill (maxwell), free
• Marquee Night Club: White Collar Boxing Show, “Road to: The Night of Champions, marina bay sands
• Theatre 25-28 Apr: Open Stage presents MOSAIC... celebrating Theatre - 4 short plays in 2hrs, Blackbox Theatre at Drama Center, National Library (bugis), from $35
• The Fantastic Four - The Bollywood Wives ft Divesh Shah, Sofitel Hotel Sentosa
• DJ, Phil Studio: Midweek Blues - downtempo trance rnb, hiphop folk ambient edm, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $15
• DJ, iki: Royal Beatz Afrobeats, Hip Hop, R&B, club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), free

I am on telegram: search sg music chat or visit t.me/sgmusicchat

Important enough to get its own section in the Shards menu, I would like to do an analysis of the Religion and Philosophy Shards found in-game.
Why am I posting here? Well, since the entirety of what has been given to us from the mystery seems to center around the statue and the monks that pray / meditate in front of it, I think it is only fitting to discuss the various spiritual aspects the devs gave us as being important. Analysis of the game's stance on spirituality may give us clues to further our understanding of what we are looking for with the mystery.
It is my personal belief that Cyberpunk is trying to highlight the process of individuation, some of which you may see below.
I would like to say again, mostly for some others but also for myself, that I really would love to know what the answer to the overall mystery is, but more than that, I would love to know what it is not. Should we be trying to escape the simulation here? Is this a modern mystery school? Or am I and others seeing connections to our own Esoteric and spiritual journeys and putting a lot of hope that a work of art we love might help us in some greater way? If this is just a way to find Ciri in the game or a dick joke, it would be great to know the things that it is not.
​
ONE Anaphora of St. Cyril of Alexandria
Firstly, I would like to point out something relating to grammar. An Anaphora is a repetition of words or phrases at the beginning of a clause, used for effect - a famous example would be "We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills," said by Winston Churchhill. Anaphora)
This is interesting for another reason as well - the opposite of Anaphora is Epistrophe, which is the same repetition, but at the end of a clause. Epistrophe
The reason that this is interesting is because of our quest Epistrophy, the quest centered around Delamain, which is thus named after the song by Thelonius Monk. Also interestingly, at the beginning of this quest, Delamain mis-identifies you as either Hans Jonas, if male, or Elaine Pagles, if female. Hans Jonas was a German-born, American Jewish Pholosopher, most notably known for The Imperative of Responsibility, which covers social and ethical problems created by technology, as well as his work, The Gnostic Religion: The Message of the Alien God & the Beginnings of Christianity. Elaine Pagels is a historian of religion, known for her best-selling book, The Gnostic Gospels, studying the Nag Hammadi manuscripts (which, if you've read any PK Dick, such as VALIS, you know he references several times).
As for the shard itself, it is found in Gloria's house during the Joshua Stephenson quest, There is a Light That Never Goes Out (a song by The Smiths).
The Anaphora / Liturgy of St. Cyril (originally in Koine Greek, the language PK Dick supposedly spoke in tongues), and translated by St. Cyril into Coptic (an Egyptian language with Greek Lettering), and contributes to the Alexandrian Rites. This is a Eucharistic rite, asking God to transform Bread and Wine into the Body and Blood of Christ. Notably, of St. Cyril himself, he had a theology that resembles some teachings of Gnosticism - he believed the embodiment of God spread from Jesus into the entire human race, promising immortality and transfiguration (the holy glow) to the faithful. Rejecting dichotomy (dualism), St. Cyril believed that Jesus the Man and the Logos (divine reasoning that leads to Gnosis; "the word of god") were one in the same.
​
TWO Beelzebub's Tales to his Grandson
From the book of the same name by GI Gurdjieff, Beelzebub's Tales was one of the foundational texts of The Fourth Way. This text is found on the roof of Misty's shop (where the final choice of the game is!), is left behind during the last meditation with the Zen Master (along with the Enneagram, which also stems from Gurdjieff and the Fourth Way), and is also found in the gig, Going Away Party, the one in Santo where you rescue a guy from a house full of slaughtered joytoys.
The particular excerpt covers the question of whether or not we have a soul (a central theme in Cyberpunk2077) and the concept of dualism. Also mentioned is the Tower of Babel, the destruction of which, biblically, caused the world to all speak different languages and not understand one another.
The Fourth Way states that ordinary people live in a waking sleep, though higher levels of consciousness, virtue, and unity of will are possible. It tells us that inner development is the beginning of further processes of change, transforming man into "what he ought to be." It teaches that the soul gets trapped by personality, leaving a person unconscious but believing they are conscious, though the freeing of the soul is possible.
​
THREE Buddhism and Cyberware: A Perspective
In an interview with a Bhikku, the interviewer asks why they are against cyberware. The monk says they abstain to achieve Enlightenment, which can be hindered by cyberware due to its vague, fluid status. He asks what an implant is - a part of your body, or an object? Possessions muddy the mind and pull it further from inner peace. He even mentions that cyberpsychosis is proof of this concept.
Considering you find this behind the bhikku monk who was unwillingly chipped - one of the two that eventually tell you that, to find out if something has a soul, is to ask if it is capable of suffering - it seems to be very much related to two big messages: one is the concept of whether or not we have a soul, or whether or not Johnny and other engrams do. Secondly, it talks about cyberpsychosis. Why does David Martinez, for example, have a higher tolerance for cyberware? It's possible that it comes not from the body (he's a skinny little punk), but from the mind. Mike Pondsmith even comments on David's high tolerance, saying that he has a "high humanity stat" (referring to the TTRPG).
​
FOUR Earth Reborn
Found during the quest Transmission, which is when you contact Alt through the Blackwall with the VDB's, this shard discusses how mankind has effectively eradicated supernatural beings - even God. It states that little green men have been among us already, paying visits in their flying saucers, though mankind has given up on hope of contact with ET's (not truly sure what point this is trying to make?). In his loneliness, man started to populate the emptiness in him with other beings, such as AI, which brought back mythical forces we could catalogue and separate from us - "here is the Earth and here is the sky."
From a religious point of view, I think this very much mirrors a Gnostic concept - that God, being alone, creates life and "surrenders" to "his own creation." That divinity is in each of us, because being created by God (or a higher power), we are all reflections / mirrors of that higher being. AI surpasses humanity in many ways, so is it possible to become co-equal with God? Or are we already there and capable of it?
​
FIVE Homo Deus: Christianity and Cybermodification
Found in All Foods, this discusses how God created man in his image (see previous entry), yet man continues to modify himself, trying to become closer to divine / perfect. However, some voice concerns of hubris, with man becoming his own savior - that only the soul should be immortal, while the body, or temple, should be accepted as mortal.
"Eritis sicut dii," said the serpent to Eve: "You will be as Gods." The next part of that sentence is "knowing good and evil," suggesting that we can determine what is good and what is evil for ourselves. These quotes are from Genesis. This ties in, in my opinion, to the speech you get from Skye - "if you gotta kill, kill." Good and evil are very much human concepts, and it is the belief that without our knowledge of good and evil, we would still be in Eden / Paradise. With that knowledge, we suffer.
​
SIX Parallel Lives
This contains the first paragraph of Plutarch's Life of Alexander, a biography of Alexander the Great. In this excerpt, Plutarch argues that one's greatest exploits do not necessarily give the clearest picture of who someone is, their vices and virtues, letting others speak of great battles and more weighty matters.
If I were to apply this in the way that I think it was intended, someone's greatest actions, like blowing up a tower or stealing from a corporation, do not make them who they are. The more telling moments would be in things like choosing to spare a life on a mission, giving to the homeless, letting Cesar keep his money and car, etc. Perhaps some of the moments we take as small, compared to big ones like the ending choice, say more about our V.
Notably, this is found in the Hippocratic Oath mission, where you can choose to take the ripperdoc away from the Maelstrom gang member before she is done operating, or kill him, or, perhaps, choose to assist in the operation.
​
SEVEN Teachings of the Temple - Excerpts
Found in the Shinto Shrine, the NCPD lab mission with River, and left behind the Zen Master, I believe this to be one of the most intriguing shards in the game. It says that Sleep and Death are Twin Sisters, putting trust into the fundamentals that unlie all phenomena (things that can be percieved), casting down the great Moloch of fear which stands at the gate of all men's minds. Moloch is a Canaanite god, a great bull over a fire, to which children were sacrificed. However, the idea of the Guardian of the Threshold is also brought here, which keeps us from attaining Gnosis.
Interestingly, however, it says that Time and Space are annihilated in dream life because the energy of the mind is freed from bonds of matter - that matter holds the "embryonic God-man in bondage." It states man has erected unnecessary difficulties through various incarnations / lives, but in dream, the energy is guided by the higher / Spiritual will of man.
Sleep is a function we can use in the game, but often we do not. It is worth mentioning that sleep is way for us to forget - without sleep, we would likely go insane or die. In many philosophies that contain reincarnation as a belief, Death is a sleep between incarnations of life, though, pointedly, the cycle of reincarnation can be escaped in many of these belief systems through an escape from suffering, gnosis or nous, or the achievement of the magnum opus.
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EIGHT The Consciousness Curse
This states that death, the one certainty in the universe of chaos, can be both a tragic end and a release from suffering. It can be an unexpected twist or a crowning counterpart to a life well-lived. However, we are always focused on death, being aware of it, while other creatures do not have this same issue.
This is found in Transmission (contacting Alt with VDB's), near the Ebunike, and on the gig Desperate Measures, working for the guy who has ALS.
With our consciousness also comes the realization that we will one day die, and in this obsession, we forget, perhaps, how to live.
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NINE The Coptic Bible
From the Book of Enoch, this shard speaks of the Nephilim - the children of angels and humanity. What I find interesting here is that this excerpt ends with the earth laying "accusation" against them, which is the biblical flood myth that is present in most (all?) ancient cultures.
The Book of Enoch is used in many different "conspiracy" types of things, including Atlantis, the existence of Giants, or the Annunaki. However, the reason for this is because the story so well ties in to many legends and myths, especially with the connection to the Flood and purging the evils of man / the Nephilim / the human-Annunaki hybrids from the Earth.
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TEN The Cult of Santa Muerte: Who is the Lady of the Night?
This speaks of the Santa Muerte, also known in the real world as the Santa Madre. This is the sacred death, someone who offers protection for anyone who leaves an appropriate offering - rum and tequila (notably, we CAN choose to leave tequila as an Offering or Ofrenda), fruit, cigarettes, candy, flowers... It is said she does not distinguish in her favor based upon the morality of the request, either praying for health and happiness or the death of enemies. However, every offered prayer has a price. With Santa Muerte being the Lady of the Night (very close to the Shinto shrine being dedicated to the Kami of Night, as well as electricity and chrome), it's no wonder why she is important to Night City, a place where there is a body-count lottery.
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ELEVEN The Holy Bible: Old and New Testaments
Found in a few places, including in Joshua's dressing room, this shows us Ecclesiastes 9. Death is but one event that we all face, and that the good and evil, the clean and unclean, all find the same end. Good things come to bad men equally as bad things come to good men. However, righteous action is "in the hand of God," and is rewarded by God not in life but in death. There is wisdom in making the most of life while we have it, but not to abuse it - take what is to be had and expect no more.
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TWELVE The Myth of Er
Most notably found in the Jungle portion of Arasaka Tower, the Myth of Er is from Plato's Republic. In this, it describes some notable, mythical figures choosing their next life. Orpheus, torn apart by women, chooses the life of a swan so as not to be born of a woman. Themyras chooses a nightingale - birds and other "musicians" (Orpheus is known to be the greatest musician, even greater than the gods), however, ended up wanting to be men. Ajax chooses to be a mighty lion, for he suffered at the judgments of men, and likewise Agamemnon chose an eagle for this reason. Atalanta chose the fame of an athlete, Epeus a woman cunning in the arts, Thersites a monkey. However, it is saying all of this to highlight the wisest among them - the trickster archetype, the magician, the most cunning of them all, Odysseus. Odysseus says he would have chosen the same, even if he had been first instead of last, and chooses the life of a private man who had no cares - though he had difficulty in finding it.
The wisest of men, devoid of his ambition, chose the Quiet Life.
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THIRTEEN The World as Will and Idea
This is an excerpt from the real work of Arthur Schopenhauer, a German philosopher - one of the greats, by most accountings of philosophy. "...death is the great opportunity to no longer be I; to him who uses it. During life the will of man is without freedom: his action takes place with necessity upon the basis of his unalterable character in the chain of motives."
In another sense, we are slaves to the circumstances of our lives, lacking any real form of free will. This is our Karma - or, to put it as The Merovingian said it in The Matrix, this is causality.
"Accordingly he must cease to be what he is in order to be able to arise out of the germ of his nature as a new and different being. Therefore death looses these bonds, the will again becomes free; for freedom lies in the [Essence,] not in the [Operation]..."
While this could be taken as a literal death, as in the absence of life, there is also the possibility of death every day - we can choose to "die" and no longer be slaves to circumstance, and be born anew.

Took the kids (10 y/o boy and 7 y/o girl) to WDW for Spring Break without my wife because she had to stay at work. Day-by-day with some commentary below (including a brief summary of our pre-WDW trip to the Everglades and Biscayne for anyone else who is thinking about adding that on to their trip).
Overall, we had a great time, and while it was crowded, we were able to work it so we didn't wait in any lines for more than 60 minutes and still got into every attraction we wanted (except for my son who was very sad that Rock n' Roller Coaster was closed). Going early was definitely the key to doing that well, more so than ILL or Genie. I bought a bunch of breakfast bars and juice boxes on Instacart and had them delivered, and doing that for breakfast definitely helped us get out early each day. For our two days with two parks, our strategy was to go early to the first park and ride using standby lines until the lines got too long while accumulating afternoon/evening lightning lanes for the second park, and I think that strategy also worked really well. The kids did better waiting in the morning before they were exhausted, and in the afternoon, we largely walked from LL to LL which made everyone happy.
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Saturday, March 23 - Travel Day
Flew to Ft Lauderdale, drove to Homestead, FL for two days (stayed at Fairfield Inn which was a completely ordinary chain hotel!)
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Sunday, March 24 - Everglades National Park
Morning tour of Shark Valley by Tram--tons of gators including baby gators and also a lot of cool birds. Highly recommend
Afternoon tour of Royal Palm, the Nike Missile Site, and Pa-Hay-Okee with the Everglades Institute. Our guide was amazing, especially with the kids. It was one of the best National Park programs we've done!
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Monday, March 25 - Biscayne National Park
Morning boat tour called Heritage of Biscayne. The history was really interesting and the scenery was beautiful, but it was pretty windy, and we all unexpectedly got absolutely trenched crossing the bay from Homestead to the islands. Spent about an hour wandering around one of the islands with a lighthouse and small beach. This tour I think would have been better in an enclosed boat!
Drove back up to Ft Lauderdale to the Brightline train station downtown to return the rental car, see a friend who lives there, and take one of the later afternoon trains to Orlando. The Brightline was easy to use for the trip. The only issue was that they were out of almost all food on the train (where we'd planned to eat dinner), but we made it, and even caught a glimpse of a rocket launch from Cape Canaveral on our way by.
We took a Lyft from the Orlando airport (where Brightline drops off) to the Caribbean Beach Resort. We requested a room in Jamaica and ended up on the second floor of building 45, which was a great location. A 5 minute walk to the Skyliner and 5 minutes to Old Port Royale where the lobby, food, and big swimming pool are. There was also a smaller leisure pool one building over for us. We had a 2 queen + 5th sleeper which worked great with me and the two kids. Would absolutely stay here again
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Tuesday, March 26 - Animal Kingdom
Purchased extras: ILL for Flight of Passage, Walking with Giants
ADR: Rainforest Café dinner
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Took bus (10 minute wait), arrived about 7:20 am for early entry
Expedition Everest x 2 - This is one of my kids favorite rides and we were able to walk on twice with early entry!
Kilimanjaro Safari - line looked scary long since they didn't open until 8:15, but we were on in 15 minutes
Na’vi River Journey - remains meh for all of us, but at least it was a quick wait
Walking with Giants - this tour is a hidden gem! You get a peek behind the scenes and then some time pretty up close with the elephants with a cast member who is an expert in all things elephant. Baby Corra was out and we enjoyed watching her romp around with her mom. As extras go, this one is relatively affordable and was pretty amazing!
Lunch at Flame Tree BBQ - this was fine and we used mobile order which worked well.
Meet Moana - my daughter was wearing her Moana dress by coincidence and was definitely not going to pass up the opportunity to meet her twin! :-)
Dinosaur - Because this and Indiana Jones are just so bumpy-jolty, I really don't enjoy them, but my kids insisted.
The Boneyard - I thought my kids would be getting too old for this but they had a good time for half an hour or so
ILL Flight of Passage - Remains amazing. And well worth the ILL to skip the line.
Festival of the Lion King - This show was fine, but I definitely think there are other Disney stage shows that are better. Worth seeing, but probably wouldn't be my top choice if time-pressured.
Discovery Island Trails - found many, many animals. Would be great to have a checklist or game from Disney for how many animals you can find!
Rainforest Café Dinner - This is a tradition for us every time we come (and has been since I was a kid). It's always been a mediocre, but it's our mediocre!
Back to Hotel for brief swim in Jamaica pool and bed
Total steps: 14,595
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Wednesday, March 27 - Magic Kingdom and Disney Springs
Purchased Extras: ILL for Tron, Cirque du Soleil tickets
ADR: Boathouse Cantina dinner
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Took the bus for early entry, arriving around 7:20
Tried to do Space Mountain but was down at opening so regrouped
Barnstormer - this remains a strangely intense roller coaster despite seeming like it's aimed at little kids
It’s A Small World - nothing to add!
Haunted Mansion - quick time to get on. The mood was brought down a little by several CM announcements to stay seated, etc.
Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger Spin - waited about 30 minutes. Toy Story Mania is definitely better--had some tech issues with the space guns during the ride.
ILL Tron - I've never seen the movie, but they give you enough in the preshow to understand what's happening. Definitely enjoyed the roller coaster!
Monsters, Inc Laugh Floor - My 10 y/o is all about the puns. The text a joke was down for us while we were there.
Lunch at Pinocchio Village Haus - pizza
Mickey’s PhilharMagic - this show is still fun, even if it's definitely getting a little dated
Hall of Presidents - my son is a politics/history buff and has to see this every time we go. The only cheering/booing was for Polk. For reasons.
Bus back to hotel for a quick room break with some cartoons
Bus to Disney Springs
Wandered around shopping a bit, also did some pin trading and played in the Lego bins
Dinner at Boathouse Cantina which was excellent for all. Definitely the best food quality of the week
Cirque du Soleil's Drawn to Life (early show) - we sat pretty high up which I was worried about, but we could see fine. The show was a lot of fun for all of us. Amazing mix of artistry and physical performances!
Ice cream at Salt and Straw on the way back to the bus
Bus back to hotel for bed.
Total steps: 14,867
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Thursday, March 28 - EPCOT and Magic Kingdom
Purchased extras: Genie for MK
ADR: Teppan Edo Lunch, MK Pre-Fireworks Dessert Party
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Skyliner to EPCOT, arriving 8:20
Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure - waited about 45 minutes despite Early Entry. It was fine, but I was honestly a little disappointed. It felt too screen focused and missed some of the Disney magic.
Frozen Ever After - waited about an hour. I still miss Maelstrom, but the ride is still fun and this is a much better mix of animatronics and screens!
Gran Fiesta Tour Starring The Three Caballeros - so hokey, but hey it has Donald
Meet Pluto - ran into him in front of Spaceship Earth, and had to stop since he is our favorite classic character
The Seas with Nemo and Friends - took surprisingly long to get in. We'd planned to do Turtle Talk inside, but didn't have time before our Lunch reservation.
Manatee Feeding - this was fun--lots of lettuce for them and a keeper who had some interesting factoids
Lunch at Teppan Edo - excellent--both kids loved the hibachi style and the chef was great!
Beauty and the Beast Sing-a-Long - stopped here on the way back and enjoyed the revision to the story.
Back to Hotel via Skyliner
Swimming Time - big pool was still closed for renovation, so we swam at the Jamaica pool
Bus to MK, arriving around 5
LL-Space Mountain - still great!
LL-Meet Cinderella and a Visiting Princess (Elena of Avalon) - this was a better experience than I'd have guessed. It was fun to watch the princesses interact with kids from babies to teenagers
Pirates of the Caribbean - 20 minute wait to get on. The DL version still has my heart, but we had a good time.
Swiss Family Treehouse - climbed through--the tree house itself is great, but should really be rethemed--there were far too many confused kids who'd never heard of the Swiss Family Robinson.
MK Pre-Fireworks Dessert Party--this was a splurge but so much fun. So much dessert that we had dessert for dinner (hey it's vacation!) . The CMs were friendly and helpful. And the viewing area is right in front of the castle.
Happily Ever After - loved the show and being able to see all the projections!
LL—Jungle Cruise - not my favorite skipper, but still some good jokes.
LL-Mad Tea Party x 2 - should say, this was just the kids. I do not do teacups because I valued keeping my dessert dinner inside me!
Voyage of the Little Mermaid - because no line. Pretty skippable otherwise.
LL-Big Thunder Mountain - close out the day with some nighttime train riding!
But back to hotel for bed
Total Steps: 18.268
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Friday, March 29 - Hollywood Studios
Purchased Extras: ILL for Rise, Genie (late - I set my alarm wrong, so missed first pick!)
ADR: Toppolino’s Terrace Character Brunch, 50s’ Primetime Café Dinner with Fantasmic Seats
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Skyliner to arrive 8:15
Slinky Dog - 45 minute wait. This roller coaster is fun, but I still don't understand why it's as popular as it is
Mickey and Minnie’s Runaway Railroad - 45 minute wait, but this rides is always surprisingly fun
Skyliner to Riviera Resort for brunch
Brunch at Toppolino’s Terrace (Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy) - loved the Riviera outfits for all the characters. Food was good. View was amazing. Happy we did it.
Skyliner to hotel (could have walked, but my daughter loves the Skyliner!)
Nap time after late night the night before and early morning
Back to park around 1:30
LL-Millenium Falcon – Smuggler’s Run - one or more systems were down, so this was almost an hour wait WITH lightning lane. This ride always seemed a little too video gamey for me.
Toy Story Mania! - love it every time. Made a mistake and got into the meet Woody line by accident which cost us 15 minutes of waiting before I caught it, and ended up waiting just under an hour to get on in standby
ILL-Rise of the Resistance - still an amazing ride. First Order cast members were not as harsh as they'd been on previous trips--don't know if that was luck of the draw of a one-off.
LL-Star Tours - Ewok forest and JarJar sea this time
Dinner at 50’s Primetime Café with Fantasmic seating- was disappointed with this. The food was good, but our waiter had none of the cafe attitude I expected.
Muppet Vision 3D - mostly to kill time, but we all enjoyed it very much
LL—The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror - my daughter's favorite ride. They talked me into going. I always half-regret it, but hey, memories!
Fantasmic! - had great seats because of the dinner tickets. The dragon did not catch on fire. Always a fun show. We did get a little wetter and colder than we expected. I think I like the Disneyland version on the park-integrated river better than the theater version but both have plusses for sure!
Total steps: 14,344
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Saturday, March 30 - Magic Kingdom and EPCOT
Purchased Extras: ILL for Guardians of the Galaxy Cosmic Rewind, Genie for EPCOT
ADR: Space 220 late lunch, Rose & Crown Fireworks Package
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Bus to arrive around 7:15
Seven Dwarf’s Mine Train - 20 minute wait, great ride
Peter Pan - 20 minute wait, my favorite nostalgia ride
Prince Charming Regal Carousel - because why not?
The Many Adventure’s of Winnie the Pooh - the queue activities are better than the actual ride
Tomorrowland Transit Authority PeopleMover - hadn't done it since I was a kid. Wish you could see more inside the rides.
Back to hotel for swimming. The Fuente Del Morro pool had opened so swam there and got snacks at Banana Cabana. Kids loved the slide.
Skyliner to Epcot
Meet Pluto (again) - hanging out again in front of Spaceship Earth
Journey of Water, Inspired by Moana - what a cool area! The educational bits were well done, the water effects all worked, loved it!
Space 220 Lunch - disappointed in this one. They say out by a window where we couldn't see earth at all. The food was fine. Definitely not worth the cost overall (though they didn't ask about kids ages here and decided that my 10 y/o was a kid).
LL: Mission: Space - 7 y/o and I did green, 10 y/o did orange all thought it was great
LL: Test Track - actually made it through the queue, design, and ride with nothing breaking! That's a win!
ILL: Guardians of the Galaxy Cosmic Rewind - this ride is incredible. By far the best thrill ride in the parks!
LL: Soarin’ Around the World - Definitely showing its age. The screen had black marks almost directly below us which were really distracting. I hope that the new patent is a sign of things to come because I love this ride, especially the California version.
Living with the Land - thought the kids would be bored, but my daughter was super excited to go on a science ride!
LL: Journey Into Imagination with Figment - I do love Figment. I was sad that the gift shop didn't sell a Figment-themed picture frame--if anyone knows where to get one, let me know.
LL: Turtle Talk with Crush - the kids were fighting so the ended up sitting on opposite sides of the carpet and both got to talk with Crush! We entered through the gift shop this time to avoid the Nemo line.
Rose and Crown Fireworks Dinner - This was probably the most disappointing meal of the week. The food was overall pretty bad. Service was incredibly slow (we were seated at 7:45, appetizers at 8:30, entrees at 9, dessert at 9:30 after the show and park had closed. The kids menu had one choice for an appetizer: salad with fat-free ranch dressing. Of our three entrees, my fish and chips were very underseasoned (and no salt on the table) and my daughter's chicken was rock hard. My son's shepherd's pie was good. Despite the good, the view of the show was near perfect, so that part was good.
Luminous: The Symphony of Us - this show was shorter than I'd have guessed. We all enjoyed it though.
Skyliner back to hotel for bed--our only time with a significant Skyliner wait--25 minutes.
total steps: 15,949
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Sunday, March 31 - EPCOT and Travel
Purchased Extras: None
ADR: Akerhus Royal Banquet Hall Character Breakfast (booked the morning of!)
We got up a little later and were bringing our bags over to Old Port Royale to store for the day when we came across Easter festivities! The hotel CMs had multiple designs of Caribbean sea creatures made out of candy, each for a different age group. The kids got to do a candy scramble and left with a ton of candy. Very fun and they had more things going through the day that we elected to skip.
Skyliner to EPCOT, arriving around 9:45
VQ: Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind - We wanted to ride again, so got a virtual queue spot in group 6. We didn't make it over in our window (which was 8:48-9:48), but they let us on at 10 am anyway. Remains very fun.
Brunch at Akerhus Royal Banquet - met Aurora, Tiana, Belle, Ariel, and Snow White. Food was also quite good. Much more low key than Royal Table!
Disney’s DuckTales World Showcase Adventure: Japan, France, and UK - Kids watch the show, so we decided to try assuming it would be silly, but it was actually one of the most fun thing we did. Highly recommend for anyone school aged or above! I'll be doing more the next time I go back for sure!
Skyliner back to hotel, walk to Old Port Royale, Lyft to airport, and flight home.
Total Steps: 11,689
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12 APR UPDATE: https://www.reddit.com/singaporemusicchat/comments/1c26c7k/reupload_megalist_sg_gigs_concerts_raves_mid/

29 Mar 2024, Fri - Good Friday

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• Singapore Symphony Orchestra - John Williams' Essay and Flute Concerto - 1 of 2, Victoria Concert Hall, $15
• Esplanade Music: Poetry In Motion by San The Wordsmith (hip hop), outdoor, free
• Esplanade: Outspoken: Competitive Spoken Word (improv & poetry) , indoor concourse, free
• Esplanade Poetic Dance Drama till 31st: A Mere Touch of Green by 中国东方演艺集团, Theatre, $68
• Esplanade Theatre till 31st: Hi, Can You Hear Me? by The Necessary Stage, Theatre Studio, $38
• Chinese Children Drama: Chinese Proverbs - Mr "Smart", 华语儿童剧 《成语寓言剧之"聪明"先生》 1 of 2, Gateway Theatre Bukit Merah, $35
• Till 30 Mar Theatre: The Death of Singapore Theatre as Scripted by the Infocomm Media Development Authority of Singapore, The Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre @ Wild Rice, Funan, $30

 

• Live Electronic Experimental + DJ, BLENCH pres ZULI (EGY deconstructed glitch hiphop) ft. sl_owtalk, yetpet, Dodgy South, DJs yetpet, Nah, $32
• DJ, KOKO LOKO - Sergei Rex (ESP), Stephen Day & Reiko - 9 hour Latin edm event (tech tribal house, progressive, afro, reggaeton hiphop & more), NoonTalk x ShowCo Studio at Alice @ Mediapolis (one-north), $45
• DJ, Culture X WhoHurtYou❓ Presents Avril Lavigne x Paramore night (International Women's Day Celebration), club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), $20
• DJ Party, The Taylor Swift Era's End Game by UnfilteredPresents x sg.swifties , Projector X Golden Village No Spoilers Bar @ Cineleisure Orchard L5, [$28
• DJ, Daydream Nation by Ginette Chittick - indie , rock, shoegaze, punk and everything in between at projector, Projector X Golden Village Ruby Lounge @ Cineleisure Orchard L6, free
• DJ, Vertigo 26: DJ KidG of eatmePOPTART (electronic to indie pop, Asian disco), listening bar @ MINT Museum City Hall 26 Seah St, free/bar
• DJ, BLASÈ March Edition DJ Marie, K, Piratheeb - Hip-hop, Rnb, Dancehall and Reggaetón, Blu Jaz L2 @ bali ln (bugis), $16
• DJ, Here Kitty Kitty: Fresh Fridays Launch - Fuego Night's DJ Skilla and K Faith (Hip Hop R&B, Afrobeat, Reggaeton & Dancehall), cocktail lounge @ clarke quay blk e, free
• DJ, Christ! He's Coming! - DJ ESTR & AMPRSND lgbt event, salud @ 19 Keong Saik Rd, $25
• DJ, BARE dance party collab with Lluvia , gay event, MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $68
• Closing Down Cocktail Bar DJ,THE FINAL FLING - Adieu Levant), Levant Bar @ 32 Tras Street L4 (maxwell), free/bar
• DJ, 🏖 Tanjong Beach Club: Manolet Dario (PH), Beach Club @ 120 Tanjong Beach Walk, Sentosa
• DJ, Thugshop x Unmute pres: Never Tooo Loud with JUSTINE PERRY (FRA-DE techno) & VAIBS, headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay, $36

30 Mar 2024, Sat

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• KYUHYUN, Singapore Expo Hall 7, $128
• FISH LEONG 梁静茹 , Singapore Indoor Stadium, $98
• Marquee: VAVA (CN rapper, singer), nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, $45 or student dc
  • After-Party: with DJ Sally , same as above
• Sakura Anime Garden Festival at Gardens by the Bay, Day 1 , Map IG 📸 free
  • Japan Music Nights - Hiro from MY FIRST STORY, TeddyLoid, WISE of Teriyaki Boyz, supertree grove, free
  • Warm up Concert: Sparkle Guitar Ensemble, Mike Miller, Allen, Narutee, ryoko, Kirameki future, Dear Kiss (JP), DJ Anisong Rave by Golden Mix, supertree main stage, free
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: AFGAN and Ezad Lazim, , free
• Indie Cosy Singer-Songwriter Gig: Benny's, Krysta Joy, Enrico - Blankets, Tea, Lullabies with New Mongrels, Saylah Studios @ 180 Paya Lebar Rd, $25
• Gemilang Kampong Gelam: Tomok, baghdad street stage at kampong glam (bugis/nicoll highway) , free
• liminal archives Ramadhan market: ashruff, Song Lin Building L6 @ 1 Syed Alwi rd (lavender)
• Strait Up Blues Jam$20
• Maduro Jazz: Easter Jazz: An Exchange by Sarah-Kei Lauw & Russell Tay (jazz standards, bossa nova), maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38++ drink credits
• Cool Cats Jazz: Diah & Micah presents Groove Night (soul) 3 of 3, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $38
• Jazz Loft: NITA AARTSEN TRIO (Indonesian Latin jazz) 2 of 2, Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis), $24
• Singapore Symphony Orchestra: John Williams - Essay and Flute Concerto - 2 of 2, Victoria Concert Hall, $15
• Churen Li's FEMME-DOM: A Piano Concert, The Arts House (old parliament city hall), IG info 📸 $43

 

• Esplanade Music: 2MANY 2MICS by Ihasamic! x Wovensound (hiphop, rnb, metal, pop) ft Eliza Cuarez & Jean Seizure, kozy allways & Khalif Rawi, Will Beale & Umar Sirhan, Hasyir Ibrahim & Ash, outdoor, free
• Esplanade Poetry Music: Dream a Granted Sky Book Launch by Felix Cheong ft Phoon Yu, Reuben Lai and Jonathan Shin - lyrical arias, piano, concourse. free

 

• Standup Comedy, Afrobeats & DJ Party RIVERSIDE LONG WEEKEND - ft Rumshot, MC JAC45 from Ghana, SWTLKR, DJ DrZ, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), free
• DJ & Afrobeats Party: AFROGROOVE - Afro Club Night with JAC45 (ghana), DabishopOnDmix, DJ Al, Marie, Jag (Afrobeats, Amapiano, Hip-Hop/RnB & Reggaeton),Blu Jaz L2 @ bali ln (bugis), $20
• DJ Party, Moonstone: MOONSTONE’s 7th birthday bash - Secret Pals, bongomann, daryl knows, snooze, snooze, one braincell, Revision Music , Gahmen, Halia, Nez Senja, Moonstone BAR @ 103 Amoy St
• DJ, Fizzy (City) Pop Night at SG Taps with DJ Itch & Hiddy (Japanese city pop, asian boogie records), SG Taps Craft Beer Bar, Izakaya fusion @ 13 Duxton Hill, free bar
• DJ, Offtrack: CuCiCuCi (GER) & The Weatherman (jazz , house, broken beat), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, 🏖Manifest 5th Anniversary Pool Party - feat RPDM + Aman Anand + Raja Rani + Eli Rojas (Ibiza), 1-Altitude Coast at The Outpost Hotel Sentosa , $43
• DJ, Wallich Manor: DJ Shortkut (US) & Koflow (SG) - attn turntablist heads, Wallich Manor Lounge @ Sofitel City Centre Hotel L6 (tg pagar)
• DJ, 🏖 Tipsy Unicorn: MOJI (AU edm),@ 36 Siloso Bch Walk (Sentosa), $18
• DJ, MODAL Presents AMOTIK (GER techno) & ANSWER CODE REQUEST (GER idm ambient techno), MDLR pop-up club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $34

31 Mar 2024, Sun - Easter Sunday, Singapore Poetry Month

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• Sunday Metal Service II - SUFFOCATION and GATECREEPER (both USA death metal) x DOLDREY (SG), Gr.ID Mall Selegie (bs SOTA dhoby, bencoolen) L5, $98
• Sakura Anime Garden Festival at Gardens by the Bay, I Love Anisong - Nano and Kitadani Hiroshi
  • Warm up Concert: Tokimeki JUMP, AIJOU, Rae Atrista, Cosplay Competition, alt.titude, Dear Kiss (JP), supertree main stage supertree, free
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: Zakhrafa,free
• FLAME OF THE FOREST Pupa: Music and Art Jam - multidisciplinary music concert and some chinese art-style workshop, EXP @ 340a Joo Chiat Rd, IG video📸 $20
• Singapore Poetry Writing Month: SingPoWriMo 2024: Opening Party Open Mic and Hangout ft Vivien Yap, SingLit Station @ 22 Dickson Road (jalan besar), free
• NUS Guitar Ensemble: NUS Guitar Ensemble presents Aventura, school of the arts (bencoolen, dhoby), $16
• NUS Jazz Band: Milestones: The 30th Anniversary of NUS Jazz Band, NUS university cultural centre, $20
• Miss Nee with Drag Qabaret Does Disney (musical theatre parody), Alchemy Bistro & Craft Beers @ 128 Prinsep Street, $30
• William Scorpion and the 黑天狼 (mando/cantopop) at The Mermaid Haw Par Villa, The Mermaid Bar & Restaurant @ 27 W Coast Hwy (bs. Haw Par Villa)

 

• Esplanade Music: Unbecoming by Mantravine (psychedelic, shamanic Carnatic tribal funk, jazz fusion, electro swing), outdoor,free
• Esplanade: TSMC Tunes by AEONA and Ying Ying (english and chinese-pop covers), indoor concourse,free

01 Apr 2024, Mon

• Esplanade Presents , Coffee Morning & Afternoon Tea Reminiscing Leslie Cheung 追忆张国荣 by Donnie Chan & Winnie Wong 陈国荣与黄慧妮, Esplanade Recital Studio, $18
• Esplanade: I Have A Dream, A Song to Sing by Cedar Girls’ Secondary School Choir, concourse, free
• Blu Jaz: Musical Theatre Open Mic Night , Blu Jaz @ bali ln (bugis), $15

02 Apr 2024, Tue

• Esplanade: Concord Primary School Choir , free
• Comic Improv: PowerPoint Karaoke Singapore , the Hive Carpenter @ 36 Carpenter St (clarke quay), $15

03 Apr 2024, Wed - Bruno Mars

• Bruno Mars Live in Singapore - 1 of 3, National Stadium, $108
• Esplanade: Songs that Saved my Life by Matthias (singer-songwriter, jazzy pop soul), free
• Esplanade: Ang Mo Kio Secondary School Concert Band , Concert Hall, $15

04 Apr 2024, Thu - Tomb-Sweeping Day(?)

• PUMA BLUE, SCAPE The Ground Theatre (somerset), $79
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: Floor 88 ft mamat bora, free
• Esplanade Music: Chemistry of A Teenage Girl by Stage Fright (band, bedroom pop, rock), indoor concourse, setlist free
• NAFA: Concert Series: An Evening of Arias and Art Songs, Lee Foundation Theatre @ 151 Bencoolen St (bencoolen), free
• Club Lunar: Bruno Mars cover songs, Club Lunar (southeast asian club) @ Orchard Plaza L4, table
• DJ, TEMPEST ft Joshua Dillon, Hande JumboGoat XXL (hard dance techno), at Club Rich (lol) southeast asian club @ 114 middle rd (bugis), $38
• DJ, MOONSTONE: Jenn Chunes b2b Tashasan (uk garage, rnb, jungle, bass, asian pop), Moonstone BAR @ 103 Amoy St

05 Apr 2024, Fri

truncated for word limit

• EVNNE, The Star Vista Theatre (buona vista), $138
• Bruno Mars - 2 of 3, National Stadium, $108
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: OKLETSGO, , free
• Gemilang Kampong Gelam Bazaar: Nabila Huda 3 of 3, Baghdad Street Stage (bugis/nicoll highway)
• Phil Studio Anniversary: 1st Anniversary with Exfl Records - The Black Koes, Shuffle Squad, The Hooligans, Bad Idea, Cole's Law, Shananigans, Surprise Band, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $15
• Maduro Jazz: Soulful Standards & Swing with EJ Trio, maduro @ sofitel sentosa, $38++ drink credits
• Candlelight: Candlelight: Vivaldi's Four Seasons w Vocalise String Quartet, the arts house (old parliament city hall), $56
• YST Conservatory: (double) basses of spring, NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory, Orchestra Hall L3, free
• NAFA School of Music 40th Anniversary Celebration Concert, Victoria Concert Hall, $37
• The TENG Recital Series: Guzheng Music 溯•筝 Transcendence - 1 of 2, Mapletree Business City (labrador park), $10

 

• Esplanade: Benny’s (singer-songwriter, alt, folk), free
• Esplanade: Lights, Camera, Strings! by St. Margaret's School (Secondary) String Ensemble, free
• Esplanade Performing Arts x Tech Lab sharing: AI and storytelling - Kamini Ramachandran, sound artist Syafiq Halid and AI engineer Ernie Chen, annexe studio, free RSVP
• Esplanade Performing Arts x Tech Lab sharing: Verge 2.0 - interactive sound art with James Lye with with choreographer Dr. Amin Farid, annexe studio, free RSVP

 

• DJ, EMONIGHTSG: The B-Sides (alt rock, 2000s emo, pop punk guilty pleasures, hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), $22
• DJ, DUTTYWINE PARTY : CINCO - DJs Sristi, Lokies Khan, Ampsnd (reggaeton, moombahton, afrobeat), lgbt friendly, Projector X Golden Village Ruby Lounge @ Cineleisure Orchard L6,, $15
• DJ, UnfilteredPresents: One Night in Seoul (kpop), Projector X Golden Village No Spoilers Bar @ Cineleisure Orchard L5, $30 left
• DJ, Africa Parties x Saint Ben - Feel Africa: BLAZIN' , Mortar & Pestle rooftop bar @ 269 South Bridge Rd, $20
• DJ, Offtrack: Bongomann (house, jazzy atmospheric electronica), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, Capasso Restaurant: Capasso Friday by Party Social - hiphop rnb pop, CAPASSO Italian @ 92 Telok Ayer St, , free,
• DJ, Temple Cellars: Bring Your Own Vinyl Night, liquor store wine bar @ 31 Binjai Park (king albert park), free

 

• DJ, Marquee: Wonderland, marquee nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, from $20
• DJ, HighHouse: Aldrin & David Carollo, High House Lounge @ 1 Raffles Place Roof (old 1-altitude), $38
• DJ, Highh Club: DJ NICOLE CHEN ft gainzter, shai tmo, Highh Club Party @ Pan Pacific Hotel, 7 raffles blvd (old bang bang - esplanade, promenade)
• DJ, Ark11: DJ JADE RASIF for The Shop pre-party, ARK 11 Club @ Orchard Central Mall L11
• DJ, Ce La Vi: Singapore William Djoko (NED house techno), marina bay sands hotel rooftop bar-club, $38
• DJ, Tuff: DEETRON (SUI techno-funk) ft Stephen Day, Vix pres by Solid Ground x Midnight Shift, tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $35
• DJ, Groovetop presents S!RENE (NED Afro, Funk, Amapiano, Hip Hop, R&B), MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $40
• DJ, HQ: All Night Long with BAMBOUNOU (FRA techno idm tribal), headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay, $36

 

06 Apr 2024, Sat

• ITZY, Indoor Stadium, $168
• NICKTHEREAL 周湯豪, capitol theatre city hall, $108
• Bruno Mars Live in Singapore - 3 of 3, National Stadium, $108
  • DJ, Official Bruno Mars Afterparty: he will be hanging out at Marquee, marquee nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, $150
• Blind Equation (US cybergrind) & Your Arms Are My Cocoon (US midwest emo, indie folk w screamo) - ft Cayenne of Sobs, Anjing, Internet Love Scam, Microchip, Terror, Spider, heavy music band and electronic gig, lion studios @ 115B Commonwealth Dr, 2F, IG 📸 $38
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: Imran Ajmain, DOLLA, Bazaar Raya Fashion Show, , free
• Phil Studio: presents Jam and Cheese - Live music and cold cuts - ft the temporaries, Forty Two, Waiting for players, Cronkite Satellite, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $25
• Jazz Loft: The Joey van Leeuwen Organ Trio - 2 of 2,Blu Jaz @ bali ln (bugis), $24
• Candlelight: From Bach to The Beatles w Vocalise String Quartet, the arts house (old parliament city hall), $56
• Candlelight: Best of Hans Zimmer 2 w Vocalise String Quartet, the arts house (old parliament city hall), $81
• The TENG Recital Series: Guzheng Music 溯•筝 Transcendence - 2 of 2, SCCC Auditorium @ 1 Straits Blvd (shenton way), IG 📸 $10
• ESPLANADE: EN TUS CUERDAS - flamenco dance and guitar - ft Luisa Palicio, Jesús Rodriguez, Jesús Corbacho, Recital Studio, $68
• ESPLANADE SSO Gala: OLGA PERETYATKO – A Night at the Opera w Singapore Symphony Orchestra ft Mikhail Agrest , Esplanade Concert Hall, $25
• Piano Recital: Zoltán Fejérvári pres by Altenberg Arts, Victoria Concert Hall, IG 📸 $25
• ESPLANADE: CHONG FENG 18TH REUNION CONCERT - 重逢18 演唱会 (G) - ft. Zhao Yonghua 赵咏华, Yu Taiyan 于台烟, and Ye Huan 叶欢 - Taiwan x Singapore - ft. 施孝荣, 黎沸挥，苏心荃, TCR Accapella, Esplanade Theatre, $88

 

• Esplanade: Controller X Big Screen by JDN Party Quest and Friends (chamber ensemble) - gaming classics and anime cinema, outdoor theatre IG 📸 free
• Esplanade: Soulful Serenade by Sarah Syazlina, indoor concourse, free
• Esplanade Theatre: #TellStory by How Drama - anglican high & cedar girls, indoor concourse, free
• ESPLANADE Performing Arts x Tech Lab Industry sharing: DOTS 2.0 - Childrens Theatre with Five Stones Theatre, Annexe Studio, free rsvp
• ESPLANADE Performing Arts x Tech Lab Industry sharing: Dancing the Algorithm (DatA) - with Dapheny Chen & SERIAL CO_, Annexe Studio, free rsvp
• Tamil Language Fest: Bharatanatyam on Kambaramayana & Arunachala Kavirayar's Ramanatakam, SIFAS Annexe, $32,
• Tamil Theatre Pugalenthii’s Silapathikaram by Athipathi International Theatre - 2 of 2, The Grassroots’ Club @ 190 Ang Mo Kio Avenue 8 , $30
• Downtown Live House @ Funan: rated phigie, dnyl crso, nimrod adventures, bibiboizz, gonedown, Funan Mall (city hall) @ 107 North Bridge Rd (facing fire station), free/table
• Blackbird: The Man Child (90s acoustic grunge and alternative rock) and later Reverie and also ft Vijay the DJ, Blackbird Music Bar @ Gillman Barracks (labrador park), free/table
• Timbre+ One North Singapore Originals - Maneloren, music food court/beer garden @ 73A Ayer Rajah Crescent (one-north), free/table

 

• DJ, Songkran Singapore ft DJ Nicole Chen, Titus Low, Rick Svage, Shuhandz (US), Tom Price (CN), MC Damon (SG), Sofitel City Centre Rooftop Pool (tanjong pagar),$16
• DJ, THE ADULTS ARE DANCING - DJ Lincey x Fantastic Dinosaur, Wallich Manor Lounge @ Sofitel City Centre Hotel L6 (tg pagar), $30
• DJ, Moonstone: eatmePOPTART: The Kids are Alright - the unapologetic pop night - ft weelikeme & YAFTH (80s pop, indie rock, electronica, hip hop, sad sh), Moonstone BAR @ 103 Amoy St, free/table
• DJ, No Sleep Club (Cocktail Bar): Upstairs and Downstairs Party! DJs Aalely, Yetpet, Kindergarchy, Vinylheavy x DJ Itch (Heavyitch) downstairs, 20 keong saik road (maxwell)
• DJ, Foxtail 3rd Anniversary ft DJs Mari, Manilajunkie, Knrck, Mortar & Pestle rooftop bar @ 269 South Bridge Rd, free
• DJ, Vertigo 26: Teenagepop: A nite of britpop, shoegaze, indie, punk, grunge, pop, listening bar @ MINT Museum City Hall 26 Seah St, free/bar
• DJ, Offtrack: Daryl Knows x Leland (house, jazzy disco), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar
• DJ, Naga House: Naga Bites ft Tunes by DJ Kins + Special Guests, Naga House Bar @ 14 Lor Telok (boat quay)
• DJ, 🏖 BYOT - Bring Your Own Trunks ft DJ Abraham Neri, Akito, Thomas , gay event, Mondrian Singapore Duxton hotel @ 16A Duxton Hill, $40
• Club Hell: Throwback in Hell, gay lgbt club @ 113 telok ayer st, $30
• Drag: RIOT! CLASH, hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), $25
• DJ, Two Queens Asia - Stay Gold w DJ Candice B (00s hits), lgbt, bar nkd @ 95 club st
• LGBT DJ Party: MisMatch x FomoHomo - MISS HOMO – Birthday Bukkacakes, MDLR club @ 62 cecil street (cbd), $40
• DJ, OneCrew Presents: SOUTH SPICE! (indian music party), DDD Bar @ 63 Kampong Bahru Rd (spottiswoode, outram), ~$35

 

• DJ, CIEL SSV6 Presents Corona Sunset Sessions Feat. TOTEM (Bali) - DJs STAY GOLDEN, JOSÉ and Siggi- also ft CIEL residents HALIS, Andre Marc, Chirag K, Sand Bar 🏖 @ 53 Siloso Beach Walk, Sentosa, $32
• DJ, Tipsy Unicorn Beach Club: Official pre-party for The XChange Road to Siam Songkran Music Festival - ft DJ Ezra Hazard ,Tipsy Unicorn Beach Club 🏖 @ 36 Siloso Bch Walk (Sentosa)
• DJ, HighHouse: Zushan & Faz (house techno progressive), High House Lounge @ 1 Raffles Place Roof (old 1-altitude), $38
• DJ, ARK11: It's the Ship Pre-party with Hanif, Miggy T, Nicole Lim, ARK 11 Club @ Orchard Central Mall L11
• DJ, Highh Party Singapore: Highh BPM ft DJ KAEIZ, Highh Club @ Pan Pacific Hotel, 7 raffles blvd (old bang bang - esplanade, promenade), $37
• DJ, Zouk: Phuture - Slime Hip Hop Battle Night, Capital Lounge - Poparazzi, Mainroom - One dance, zouk club clarke quay
• DJ, PANGAEA (UK bass, techno house, garage, dubstep), headquarters techno-house club @ 66A boat quay, $36

 

07 Apr 2024, Sun

• Music Travel Love《Covering The World》Asia Tour 2024 Feat. Dave Moffatt from The Moffatts, Suntec City Convention Hall 406, $138
• SILENT SANCTUARY (PH rock) ft downtown alive & jepp, Timbre+ One North @ 73A Ayer Rajah Crescent (one-north), IG 📸 $50
• Flamenco Show: TABLAO FLAMENCO by Flamenco Sin Fronteras - ft guitarist Jesus Rodriguez & singer Jesus Corbacho (ESP), Flamenco Sin Fronteras @ 1 Lorong 24A Geylang
• Choral Workshops etc: The SSC Affair - Singapore Symphony Chorus, Victoria Concert Hall, $100
• NUS Wind Symphony: InTempo 2024: Triumphs of the Human Spirit, NUS university cultural centre, $10
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: 1965 Geylang Seriai Beraya, NAQIU, DWI AISHA, A'ARTSG, KIRANAN SENI, ORKES ENGKY AMAN, , free

 

• Esplanade Beautiful Sunday: Classics to Modern; A Musical Expedition by Sembawang Wind Orchestra, Concert Hall free reg
• Esplanade: WHYLUCAS , indoor concourse 545 645, free
• Esplanade: Novo Winds (Youth wind ensemble) , outdoor 7pm 8pm.free
• The Quiet Space - Music and imagery (Workshop) of Guided Imagery and Music (GIM), Gillman Barracks @ 5 Lock Rd (labrador park), $15
• Chinese Children Drama: The Prince and The Pauper , 华语儿童剧 《王子与 乞丐》- 2 of 2, Victoria Concert Hall, $35
• LAST: Matilda The Musical, Sands Theatre at Marina Bay Sands, $68

 

• DJ & Live , Tipsy Unicorn: Kohsh and live band, Beach Club 🏖 @ 36 Siloso Bch Walk, Sentosa
• DJ, Tanjong Beach Club: Yujin, Beach Club 🏖 @ 120 Tanjong Beach Walk, Sentosa

 

Events

• 2-14 Apr: Taha : Tribute to Palestinian poet Taha Muhammad Ali by Singapore Repertory Theatre, KC Arts Centre @ 20 Merbau Rd (robertson quay), $45
• 4-28 Apr: Theatre Tartuffe: The Imposter by Wild Rice, The Ngee Ann Kongsi Theatre @ Wild Rice, Funan (city hall), $35
• Till 7 Apr: Matilda The Musical, Sands Theatre at Marina Bay Sands, $68
  • Sentosa Market Hall (Siloso Point) Movie screening every weekend, Harry Potter, free
• 21 Apr: Puppetry Workshop Puppets Alive! Rod Puppetry by The Finger Players 《偶趣味！》十指帮仗头偶工作坊 , The Artground @ OHV (holland village), $10
• Apr 10-14: Theatre: The Last Gardener 《身后的微光》, 54 Waterloo Street (bras basah), $34
• Till Apr 14: Dance workshops: da:ns focus – EveryBody Workshops (Adults & Kids), or (Adults & Youth), or (Adults & Preschoolers), Esplanade Rehearsal Studio, $20
• Till 30th Apr Water Park: Wild Wild Wet Songkran Kids Festival ft DJ Joeru, 1 Pasir Ris Cl, from $29

Newly Open

• Music Movie: Ryuichi Sakamoto's Opus, the projector exclusive
  • others: Amy Winehouse Back to Black (opens Apr 11), Bob Marley One Love, The Color Purple, Perfect Days
• Universal Studios Singapore: Naruto the Gallery - till 30th Jun, resorts world sentosa
• Till 21 Apr: Sakura Festival at Gardens by the Bay

Ramadan Bazaars

• Till 6 Apr: Food Bazaar, Month-long events @ GEMILANG KAMPONG GELAM, @ Kampong Gelam (bugis/nicoll highway) or GEYLANG SERAI Bazaar, @ Wisma Geylang Serai (paya lebar)
• OH! Kampong Gelam Art Walk in Singapore, @ Kampong Gelam (bugis/nicoll highway), IG 📸 $35

 

08 Apr 2024, Mon

• Esplanade: Yunie Karim , free
• Esplanade: NUS PIANO ENSEMBLE - Touch, recital studio, $20
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: Geylanggang raya, geylang serai cc bazaar (paya lebar), free

09 Apr 2024, Tue - Hari Raya Eve

• Esplanade: More Demonic and Divine by Kenneth Hamilton (scottish pianist plays chopin & liszt), Recital Studio, $22
• Esplanade: Eunoia Junior College Choir , Concert Hall, $15
• Esplanade: Lyla Ng (once singapore's youngest busker, english & chinese covers and originals), free
• YST: Bach Cantata Series x Red Dot Baroque x Orchestral Institute: Kommt, Eilet und Laufet! , NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory, Concert Hall L1, tix 🎟 $10
• NAFA: NAFA Vocal Competition 2023/2024 Finals, NAFA Lee Foundation Theatre @ 151 Bencoolen St (bencoolen), free
• Community Song Circle: Harmony and Joy, Co. @ Duxton (maxwell), $28
• Wisma Geylang Serai / Bazaar: Takbiran, wisma geylang serai cc bazaar (paya lebar) , free
• Cool Cats Jazz: The Blues Revue with Joey van Leeuwen, nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $20

 

• Live & DJ, Level Up: A night of all things Bruno Mars - w Ready player one ft Allie & DJ Kohsh, Level Up Arcade & Live Music Bar @ Clarke Quay
• DJ, ARK 11: GLHF ORIENTAL RAVE ft. DJ Kasho & Miggy T, DJ Evie - mandopop Kpop Jpop, ARK 11 Club @ Orchard Central Mall L11, $20
• DJ, Highh Club: New Nakhra:Whiteout (AfroDesi) ft Shahan DJ K2, SWTLKR, Bigdbangla, Highh Party @ Pan Pacific Hotel, 7 raffles blvd (esplanade, promenade), tix 🎟 $35
• DJ, Shiv Kambdar pres. Bollywood Throwback from 00s 10s 20s, Cherry Disco @ 133 cecil st (cbd), tix 🎟 $35
• DJ, BOLLYWOOD CLUB - India’s Favourite DJ Suketu, hard rock cafe cuscaden (orchard), tix 🎟 ~$45
• DJ, Club Hell: Gym in Hell, gay lgbt club @ 113 telok ayer st
• DJ, Zouk: DJ Wukong (oriental rave, hard dance). zouk club clarke quay, $45
• DJ, Marquee: Marquee 5th Anniversary presents Odyssey: Mixtape Rewind with DJ Vice (US hiphoppy), marquee nightclub @ marina bay sands shoppes, $30 to free ladies
• DJ, Thugshop Presents - ROMAN FLÜGEL (GER deep techno house) ft Leland & Daytime Dancing ,tuff club @ 138 robinson rd cbd, $36
• DJ, Pleasures of Anomaly - DJs Lawrence Lee (GER techno), Yetpet, FAUXE, cyda, DONN, club iki @ ikigai izakaya riverwalk (clarke quay), IG 📸 $32

10 Apr 2024, Wed - Hari Raya Puasa (Eid al Fitr)

• King Gnu, The Star Vista Theatre (buona vista), $88
• Esplanade: Swan Lake 《天鹅 湖》苏州芭蕾舞团经典芭蕾舞剧 by Suzhou Ballet Theatre, $50
• Esplanade: An Evening with Vanako (jazz pop, synthpop), indoor concourse free
• Esplanade: Owen Li (island voices, r&b pop) , outdoor theatre, IG 📸 free
• Maestro Douglas Bostock Conducting Masterclass
• JCS Spring Recital 2024: 和音の色, 112 Middle Rd Midland House, free, Celebrating spring with a myriad of Japanese tunes
• Jazz Loft: Sinclair Ang & His Rhythmakers (Hari Raya Tea Dance Edition, Blu Jaz L3 @ bali ln (bugis), $24
• Cool Cats Jazz: The Jazz Sessions: Amanda Lee Swingtet , nco club @ 32 beach rd (esplanade), $20
• Skyline Songs - Open Mic Session with Vocal Coaching by Darius Lim of Voices of Singapore, High Street Centre L24 (clarke quay, city hall), free
• DJ, Cherry: Ladies Night Ft. NUS KR Hall , 133 cecil st (cbd),

11 Apr 2024, Thu

• Animenz World Tour (the anime piano arranger), Esplanade Concert Hall, $88
• Esplanade: Viva Violin! - Violin - Low Peng Guan, Giselle Ang Zi Qi, Teia Lee, Aidan James Kwek, Piano - Khor Shang Jin, indoor concourse, free
• NAFA: Concert Series: NAFA Chorus - Mendelssohn, Brahms, Schubert, Pärt, Takemitsu and Chen Yi , NAFA Lee Foundation Theatre @ 151 bencoolen st (bencoolen), free,
• YST Conservatory: Expert Interpreter Recital: Carolin Ralser, NUS Yong Siew Toh Conservatory ensemble room 2 (kent ridge, free
• SHELF SESSIONS: Live Music featuring The Jukuleles, Mad & Midas Cocktail Bar @ 39 Ann Siang Hill (maxwell), free
• NLB: Tony and Friends - Open Stage Originals (piano er hu), National Library Building, Level 1, Lobby, free, Don't miss out on our next OSO session!
• * Timbre One North: Mid-Week R&B with Polyphonix, music food court/beer garden @ 73A Ayer Rajah Crescent (one-north), free

 

• DJ, Midweek Blues @ Phil's Studio, Phil's Studio @ High Street Centre L3 (clarke quay/city hall), $15
• NUS Theatre: The Vault: The TRUE Awards - a performance responding to Lim Chor Pee's "A White Rose at Midnight", Black Box @ 42 Waterloo Street, $32
• DJ, Offtrack: Moss (house disco breaks), bs hong lim park, music gastro bar

 
I am on telegram: search sg music chat or visit t.me/sgmusicchat

For most of my years, I'd been dragged around by the twin steeds of addiction and crime without a thought beyond my next fix. Then I was arrested. That was the wake-up call I needed. Once I was inside, I had to deal with my addiction with both therapy and forced sobriety. It wasn't easy. During my lowest moment, vomiting into a prison toilet, I found something I thought I had lost – hope. I came out the other side of my stint healthier and ready to take my life in a new direction. Prison had been the tough love I needed. I was ready for the free world again.
I soon discovered the free world wasn't ready for me. Part of my release agreement was that I needed to find steady employment. I thought that sounded simple enough, but I had no idea how cruel the world could be to anyone who colored outside life's lines. Despite being capable, willing, and reformed, no one wanted to hire me.
My parole officer told me not to stress because he knew a few people who might be able to help. He saw that I was trying and made a few phone calls. He hooked me up with Pete, a good dude who owned a junk removal company named "Moving Buddies."
"Been out long?" he asked when I sat with him.
"About a month."
"How did the family take it?"
"Don't have one to lean on anymore," I said. "Part of the reason I ended up where I ended up, ya know?"
"I understand," Pete said, "We all deal with grief in our own way."
"Most of those ways don't end in jail time," I said.
"No, they do not. But, it brought you back from the dead and to my doorstep. I'd say that's a win/win."
Less than two days later, Pete hired me, and I was ready to go. Despite the name, Moving Buddies was not a moving company in the traditional sense. It was a junk removal company that specialized in cleaning up evictions and hoarder homes. It was long, backbreaking work, but it kept me busy. I welcomed the distraction.
I wasn't even the only former con on the team. My partner and driver, Devon Baker, or D, as he liked to be called, had also done time in his past. We chatted about it the first day, and it bonded us. Like me, he had gone in for armed robbery, but he had received more time. Like me, he struggled once he got out. He took this job out of desperation, too, but he said it saved his life.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, it sucks," he said as we drove to our new job, "but it's better than fuckin' jail, ya know? Plus, Pete's not a bad guy. Tight as a dolphin's asshole with money, but he gets the life. He'll cut you some slack."
"I was starting to think people like that didn't exist."
"Nobody loves ex-cons," he said. "Wait until you start up with the dating apps. You're gonna really feel the hate then."
I laughed, "Who'd hate a cuddly teddy bear like you, D?"
He laughed, "That's what I'm saying. But it's cold out there, brother. Ice cold."
We were headed out to our gig for the day. Some old fart had passed and left a mess for his kids. I hated hoarder homes because there was always some extra bullshit hidden in the piles. You could not imagine smells. They stick with you hours after your shift. We've found dead pets and living wild animals in some homes. Never a dull moment.
We arrived and were greeted by an exhausted-looking man in his late forties. He was the son of the dead guy and told us what we already knew from the work order. I felt sympathy for him – he inherited a huge mess.
"Sorry about how it looks. Dad went, well, crazy in the last few years. All he talked about was conspiracies and people out to get him and...and." He caught himself. "He changed, ya know? Then he let this place turn into this."
"Not unusual in our line of work," I said, trying to comfort him.
"Believe it or not, this isn't even the worst we've ever seen," D added.
That seemed to ease the man's mind, and he left us to do our work. D sidled up to me as he left and nodded at the house. "Yo, this is the worst fucking house I've ever seen. Easy."
When we finally cracked the tomb's seal, the full brunt of the smell hit us like the concussive wave of an atomic bomb. A potent combination of death, rotting food, and vomit stung our nostrils. D wasn't lying – this was the worst ever.
"Let's have a smoke before we get hip deep in this shit," D said, pulling out his vape.
"Agreed," I said, pulling out my crinkled pack of Marlboro Reds and naked lady Bic.
"Those'll kill you, man," D said, nodding at my pack of cigarettes.
"Those chemicals won't?"
"Shit," he said, exhaling a massive puff of vapor, "I didn't say all that now."
We finished our smokes and steadied ourselves. We wiped Vapo rub under our noses and opened the door. The entryway was crammed with old garbage. The house had so many flies that I thought it might get yanked from its foundation and take to the air. The old man may have died, but there was still some life inside this place.
"Goddamn," D said, "How did the city not condemn this place?"
"Maybe he knew people in high places?"
"Should've met a garbage man," he said, getting to work.
Hoarders were the worst. What they all have in common is some sort of mental break that sets them on this course. I've found it's often associated with some kind of loss—a job, a spouse, a child. They compensate for their loss by trying to save anything that "could be important" or that "they could use later." They never do. Thus, you get homes stuffed with towering monuments to our disposable culture.
"The hell?" D said from a corner of the living room.
I walked over to him and looked down at the ground where he was pointing. "It's trash," I said.
"Under the bag, man!"
I moved the bag and nearly vomited. Under the bag were the remains of two very dead cats. They looked like they'd recently died but were under a few ancient garbage bags. I saw a wrapper for a McDLT in one bag, and they stopped selling that in the 90s.
"You didn't know those were cats?"
"I know they're cats! Look at their backs."
I did, and that's when I saw what looked like a bite mark on the remains. Something with razor-sharp teeth had chomped some of the spines away. You'd miss it if you quickly glanced at the remains, but when you looked at them, you could clearly see the bite marks.
"What the hell did that?" I asked.
"That looks like a lion bite, bro," D said, shaken up.
"If we find a lion in here, I'm gone," I joked. "It may not be hungry, though, considering he seemed to have recently had a snack."
"Shit's not funny," D said, "I have two cats. Scooby and Shaggy."
"My bad," I said.
"Did this old man put them there?" D asked, "Because this is some old-ass garbage, and those are recently dead."
"Maybe whatever ate them dragged them here.+ Want me to remove them?" I asked but didn't wait for his response. As I went to bag up the cats, we heard something skitter on the floor behind us. We both turned around, and a few trash bags rolled off a pile and spilled on the floor.
"If there is actually a fucking lion in here, I swear to God," I whispered.
"Shh," D said, his eyes scanning the room.
We both looked around for the source of the noise but didn't see anything. I was about to say something when we heard more scrambling off to our left. I rushed over, moved away a few bags, and let out a terrified, high-pitched scream. After the initial shock, I started laughing.
"What?" D asked.
I reached down and pulled up a beat-up jester doll buried in the stacks. Its porcelain face had split down the middle at some point, and the left side was gone. The right side's painted face had worn away with time and exposure to garbage juice, but one unblinking eye stared out at us. Its long limbs hung toward the ground, hunched over like it had a bad back.
"Who would want this?" I asked.
"Weird fucking hoarders."
We heard skittering again, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a massive rat run from under some old cardboard boxes and back towards the bedrooms. I dropped the doll and chased after it, but it was gone before I could do anything. D shook his head.
"Be careful when we're grabbing shit," he said, "those things will take off the tip of your fingers."
I grabbed the doll and propped it up on the pile of trash so it looked like it was sitting on a throne of garbage. "I'll hire the jester to look out for us. It needs a name. What about Trashley?" As soon as I said it, the doll's heavy limbs made it slump to its side.
D laughed. "Trashely already sleeping on the job!"
We went back to work. We set about clearing out the living room and kitchen before we moved on to the closets and pantries in those rooms. Closets were the worst part of a hoarder's home. They crammed closets full of the weirdest shit known to man. Once, we pulled eight taxidermied animals out of a living room closet. It was a nativity scene. Baby Jesus was a stuffed dormouse.
We played rock, paper, scissors, and D lost. He had "won" closet duty. I set back to clearing out the living room leading towards the hallway and let D work on the closet.
D had moved out three garbage bags when I heard him yell and fall out of the closet. I ran over to him as he was scooting away from the closet door. He was genuinely spooked. I helped him up and asked him what happened.
It took him a second to put his thoughts together. "Something touched me."
"What?"
"I swear to god, man. Something reached out and touched my hand."
"It was probably," I said before he cut me off.
"*Bitch*, I know what a hand feels like. A fuckin' hand touched my arm."
"Okay," I said, "Gonna let the bitch comment slide."
"My bad, man," he said, shaking his head, "but that shit ain't never fucking happened to me before."
"You gotta a flashlight? Let's take a look."
"In the truck," he said. "I'll go grab it."
He left, and I shook my head. I was working under the belief that he had touched a rat's tail or something. Rats loved the stink of trash, but people tended to avoid it. The smell in this place would keep Oscar the Grouch at arm's length. From behind me, I heard the rats scrambling around.
I went over to where I had heard the noise but didn't see anything. D came back into the house and saw me looking for the rat. "Heard something?" he asked.
"I think we may have a few friends watching us," I said, glancing through the garbage piles. "Can I see that flashlight?"
He handed it to me, and I shined the beam into the sea of living room trash bags. Nothing jumped out at me, so I assumed the rats were adept at hiding from humans. Something did catch my eye, though – Trashley. The doll wasn't in the place where I had left it. Maybe it had fallen during the closet panic, and I hadn't noticed.
I plucked up the doll again. "It might've been our jester friend here," I said, "and not the rats."
"I don't like that doll," D said. "Reminds me of Poltergeist, the fuckin' clown thing. Man, that messed me up good."
"Maybe we should put a tracker on it," I joked.
D didn't laugh. "Good idea." He eyed something on the ground and grabbed it, "Put this on it."
He handed me an old cat collar with a little bell on it. I gave him a look, but he insisted. I dutifully put it around Trashley's neck and gave it a shake. The bell jingled, and D looked satisfied. I put Trashely back on the trash pile throne and handed D back the flashlight.
"Let's go see about your closet hand." I walked over and pulled the closet door back open. "Hey," I said to the potential person in the closet, "we're gonna empty that closet. If you wanna get out of here without the two of us stomping you, I'd leave now."
Nothing happened. I wasn't surprised. It's not that I doubted D—if anything, the dude was honest to a fault—but the story was so far-fetched. There's no way anyone could be in there. But still...D is honest. If he felt a hand, he might've felt a hand.
"You gonna feel around in there or what?" he asked me.
"I said let's look."
"You gotta feel too. I felt."
"I didn't agree to that," I protested.
"Neither did I, but here we are," he said, "don't make me pull rank."
I wasn't going to win. The only thing left to do would be to stick my arm into the garbage closet, hoping that a phantom hand wouldn't grab my arm. What the fuck even was this job?
D shined the light into the darkness. Two bags fell and split open on the floor. One was filled with maggots. I looked back at D, "If I'm sticking my hand in there, you're picking up the creepy crawlies."
"Fine," he said. "Now, come on, man. Let's do this."
I sighed and reached into the closet. It was packed with smelly garbage bags, and the old owner had also heaped in a bunch of raggedy blankets to fill the gaps between the bags. I slid my arm into a tar-black opening and felt around in the darkness.
"How long do I need to feel around for a hand?"
"Bro, just do me a solid, huh? I need to know I'm not crazy."
I pushed my arm deeper into the hole and felt around the trash bags. I half expected D to laugh and tell me this was some elaborate prank he was pulling. But, when I glanced back at him, he intently watched me. There was real fear in his eyes – a thing I didn't think I'd ever see out of him.
"I don't think…"
My hand brushed against something long and pointy, like a finger. My eyes bugged open because D ran closer with the flashlight. "You feel it, don't you?!"
I did feel it. It was a hand. I reached around, found the wrist, and pulled as hard as possible. All the bags around me started to roll, and before I knew it, my force sent me falling back on my ass. The rank garbage rained all over me, but I still held onto that arm.
I pushed the bags off myself, maggots landing on my face and hair, and stood up. D dropped the flashlight and was doubled over with laughter. I looked down at my hand and saw why. I was holding an arm, but it didn't belong to a man or some creature.
It was a mannequin arm.
I threw it down with disgust and shook all the creepy crawlies off me. D had dropped to the floor, barely able to breathe. I was hot. This job was bad enough, and now this? "Did you fuckin' know it was a mannequin arm?"
"I swear...I swear I didn't, man. But that shit is funny as fuck."
D has the kind of laugh that can bring anyone around to join him. Not long after, I fell under the spell of his piped-piper chuckles. I threw the arm at him, and he caught it. He helped me off the ground and apologized between the laughs. He patted my back with the arm and started cracking up again. I hurled the arm across the room.
That's when we heard Trashey's bells ringing. We looked to where I had left the Jester, but it wasn't there anymore. D and I locked eyes. We both wanted to speak but found our ability to do so gone as if we had violated an agreement with Ursula, the sea witch. We heard the little bell jingling again, this time coming from one of the back rooms.
"How?" was all D could push out.
"Rats," I said. "Has to be."
"Why are the rats taking the doll?"
BOOM! The closet door behind us slammed shut. We both jumped, and when D's feet hit the ground, he sprinted out the front door. I wanted to join him, but I caught a shadow moving along the wall leading to the kitchen and turned to it. In my peripheral vision, it looked like something with long limbs skulking into the kitchen.
The bell started ringing again. It was still in the bedrooms. "He..hello?" I called out. Nobody answered. I took a step toward the crowded hallway that led to the back bedrooms. "Is anyone there?"
This time, there was the sound of something moving in the kitchen. Unlike the quick skittering we had heard previously, this was someone moving slowly and deliberately. Someone trying not to make any noise. They were either trying to hide from me or stalk me. Neither idea sparked joy.
"Bro, I'm sorry," D said, peering in from the front door. "I didn't mean to run like away like a little kid, man."
I turned to him and put my fingers to my lips to shush him. He nodded, and I pointed toward the kitchen. He wearily inched back into the house, whipping his head around to see if anything around him was out of the ordinary. Feeling assured he was safe, he crept in but kept the flashlight in his hand, cocked and ready to swing.
The bell started dinging again in the back room. I pointed towards myself and then the backrooms. D nodded, but he wasn't going to join me back there. I wasn't even sure I could make my way back there as quietly as I wanted. There was a small path between the piles of trash, and I was too big for it. I was sure I'd make a racket cutting through, giving whoever was back there a fair warning that someone was coming.
Regardless, I was going to try. As I took my first step, we heard something moving in the kitchen again. This time, D saw the same shadow I had. He mimed to me that he thought a man was in there and that he was going to head that way. I delayed my trip to the back bedrooms and hung back just in case he needed some help. Still, after the adrenaline of the moment passed, I had second thoughts about going to the back bedrooms alone. It seemed like the kind of decision a dumb character would make in a slasher movie. I may not be smart, but I ain't that dumb, either.
I quietly stepped toward the kitchen, flanking D as he approached. We heard the cabinet doors open and slam close. There was more movement on the floor as well. It sounded like more than one rat. Then the strangest noise came out of there...the jingling of a bell.
Someone threw a trash bag toward the living room as we stood there. It landed with a wet splat and spilled the rotten innards across the floor. The food in the bag was so old it had melted into a putrid, black ooze. It sprayed onto D's pants.
"You about to get fucked up!" D yelled. He rushed into the kitchen, flashlight held high, ready to crown the bag tosser. I ran behind him, believing a show of force might deter whoever was in there.
But when we entered the room, there wasn't a person in there. We saw two rats running along the counters but no lanky-limbed person. The rats squealed, dove into the trash pile, and disappeared from our view. D looked over at me and shook his head. "There was someone in here, man. Those damn rats didn't throw that bag."
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" came a voice from the front door.
D and I turned to see a nicely dressed middle-aged white guy standing there. His fake but friendly smile was plastered on his face and didn't present any immediate threat. With this job, you always get looky-loos who want to see how demented their neighbor had been, but they rarely walk into the house. Considering everything that had happened up to this point, the Pope could show up, and we'd be leery.
"You can't be in here, man," D said.
"I'm always here," the man said.
"Well, then your streak ends today," D said, keeping calm, "this is a job site now and isn't safe for the general public."
The man started laughing. "I'm not the general public."
"Did you know the man that lived here?" I asked.
"In a sense. I watched him for years," the stranger said. "He made many poor decisions. Strange person."
"Well, he's not even a person anymore," D said, his tone shifting. "He's passed on and left us this mess to clean up. Since we're in control of the site, we can ask you to leave. If you get hurt, we can get sued. If we get sued, I get fired. I get fired, my landlord kicks me out of my place, and I have to live in my car. Since I'm not trying to live out of my beater, you have to go, sir."
"You live off Baltimore Avenue, right?"
D's face dropped. He did live near there, but how did this guy know that? D squared up and took a more aggressive posture. "Who are you?" D asked. "You work with Pete?"
"I know Pete," he said, "but he's never met me."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Yeah," I said, "you're speaking in riddles. Just tell us who you are and what you want."
Before the man could speak, we heard Trashley's bell jingling again. This time, it was coming from inside the kitchen despite my having heard it in the back bedroom just minutes earlier. How did it get into the kitchen? D and I turned back and saw a rat run across the floor with a cat collar around its neck.
"Was that the collar on Trashley?" I asked.
"Yeah," D said. We heard the jingling as the rat dove into the sea of trash bags and disappeared from sight. Then, it went quiet again.
"Where is the doll?" I asked.
We returned to where the stranger had been standing, but he was gone. I glanced back toward the front door and saw it swinging on its hinges. I looked at D and shrugged. As weird as that dude was, he was gone now.
"Who the fuck was that?"
"How did he know where I lived?" D said. "What the hell is going on, man?"
There was more jingling in the kitchen again. We turned away from the open front door and back to the noise. D and I entered the garbage-stuffed room and scanned for the bell's location. It rang a few more times but stopped as suddenly as it started.
I elbowed D in the ribs and nodded at the kitchen window. It was mostly covered with old shoe boxes and a ratty old curtain, but you could see shadows moving outside. We saw the stranger pass by the window, heading toward the back door.
We waited a beat, and then the door handle started shaking like he was trying to get in. The door must've been locked because he didn't open it. D was beginning to get frustrated and yelled out, "Hey man, you gotta get the fuck out now. Okay?"
The man stopped but didn't walk away. You could still see him outside in the curtain. D, thoroughly annoyed at this point, marched through the trash and ripped open the curtain on the back door. Instead of seeing the man standing there, though, we saw nothing but the waist-high grass in the backyard.
"What the…" D mumbled and let go of the curtain. You could see the stranger's outline again when it swung back into place. I audibly gasped, and D grabbed the curtain and yanked it away again. Again, there was nothing but grass waving in the breeze.
"How?" I said.
Before D could respond, one of the cabinet doors swung open, and Trashley spilled out. The doll landed with a thud on the counter. We watched the lifeless ragdoll as it lay on the ugly formica and waited for it to move again. As if it read our thoughts, the doll's left arm fell and dangled off the edge. That was enough to drive us both out of the kitchen.
As we returned to the living room, the front door opened again. The stranger had come back. D walked up to him and got into the man's face. I ran over and put an arm on D's shoulder, but he shrugged me off.
"Who the hell are you, man? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on this place and see if things were in order. You two seem to be the perfect men for the job."
"Did Pete send you?" I asked. "Did you know the guy that owned this place?"
"He was one of the people we monitored. He was meddling with things beyond his control, and he paid for that curiosity."
"You killed him?"
"No. He awakened something he shouldn't have. He paid for that decision. I came to witness this.""
"Witness what?"
"Maybe we should call Pete," I said. "Get this straightened out.
"I didn't know dolls could stand like that," the stranger said, pointing toward the kitchen.
We both snapped our heads back toward the kitchen and saw Trashley standing tall on its thin fabric legs. It didn't move, but it was clear it had moved at some point. It was in a small pile on the counter when we last saw it. The whole energy in the house had changed in an unnatural direction, like seeing watch hands run backward.
D's eyes were so wide I was afraid they'd pop out. He was gripping the flashlight so tight I thought he might shatter it. Drops of sweat formed on his bald head and rolled down his face. He wasn't a tiny man, and I was worried these scares might cause his heart to stop.
Confusion is too weak a word to describe what we felt in the moment—befuddlement, maybe—like discovering there had been aliens on Earth this whole time, and your boss was one of them. As we stared, the stranger said, "I think now you have a real mess on your hands."
"I think I'm about to beat your ass," D said, turning to confront the man but not finding him standing there. "What the hell? Where did he go?"
There was a rumble of thunder, and it shook the house. D and I both ducked like something was going to fall on us. I felt the thunderclap's vibrations in my guts. I glanced at the windows and noticed the sun still peaking through the edges of the blackout curtains. There were no clouds overhead, and I realized that the thunderclap didn't come from above us but from below.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my throat when we heard something knocking inside the closed closet door. It was quiet initially, but each successive thump was louder than the last. Soon, the knocks were so loud and so violent the door knob rattled with each rap.
I glanced back into the kitchen. The Jester was gone. It had either fallen behind some of the bags or had moved away. Neither option made me feel too good. If this thing could skulk through the trash without making a sound, it could sneak right up behind us without us knowing. I didn't know if it was violent, and I had no intention of finding out, but the thought nested in my brain and set up shop.
"D, the doll is gone."
"Man, fuck this place," he said, nodding toward the door, "let's get the hell out of here."
"Best idea I've heard today," I said, heading toward the door.
D got there first, and when he grabbed the handle, he let out a painful yelp. I didn't need to ask what happened because I had heard the sizzle. He pulled his hand back, and the mark had already reddened and started to swell.
"What the hell?" he said, blowing on his hand as if his breath would cure it.
The knocking in the closet started up again. It was loud from the jump, but the noise that bothered me was hearing the doorknob turn and the closet door squeak open. I ran out of the vestibule and back into the living room to discover the Jester hanging from the handle. Its half face was turned up into a crooked smile.
"D," I said, my voice trailing. He walked over to me, and when he saw Trashley hanging from the door, all the blood ran from his face.
"H-hello?" I offered to the open door.
Nothing but silence was coming from the closet. I was happy for the silence. Loved every sweet second of it. Maybe it meant that all this hoo-doo voodoo shit was over, and we could get back to normal.
It wasn't over.
The closet door flew open, sending the jester doll flying into the kitchen and out of sight. We heard something breathing inside the darkness of the closet. Across the living room, there was a movement in the trash piles. I looked over to see the mannequin hand flying through the air and back into the closet.
"We gotta go," I said.
D slapped at the front door handle again, which was still hot. He shook his head. "I can't go this way."
We burst back into the living room and heard more rumbling from the closet. Keeping a wide berth, we stayed away from the closet and eyed the back door in the kitchen. Before we could step in that direction, there was another bone-shaking thunderclap. This time, though, all the piles of trash from the back bedrooms flooded into the living room and created a wall of garbage blocking access to the back of the house.
There was a growl from the closet, and we both looked over and saw that mannequin's hand reach out and grip the door frame. Whatever was in there had attached the arm to its body and was pulling into the living room. That was our signal to get the hell out.
We turned to run, and all of the kitchen trash rushed forward. Like the back room trash, the bags formed a wall trapping us inside the living room. There was another growl from the closet, and a second arm reached out and grabbed the door frame. This arm looked organic but not well. The flesh was gray and ripped. You could see muscles and bones as the arm flexed on the door.
"Fuck this," D said. He ran at the wall of trash blocking the kitchen and threw his whole massive frame into it. Like the Kool-Aid man, he burst through and landed with a thud on the filthy floor. His plan worked, and even though he was covered in foul-smelling shit juice and in a living nightmare, he turned back to me with a smile so wide you would've thought he'd just won the Powerball.
The smile quickly faded. From the top of the refrigerator, Trashley uncoiled like a spring and launched itself at D with an old rusty knife in its tiny hands. It landed with a chaotic thud but quickly scrambled to its feet and sunk the blade into D's calves.
D screamed, but the doll just kept slashing at his legs. Blood was pouring out of a dozen wounds and mixing in with the rotten garbage on the floor. D tried grabbing the Jester, but it quickly jabbed the knife forward and clean through D's hand. It tried pulling the blade out but was stuck on the gristle and tendons.
I leaped through the wall and landed on the slick floor like Bambi stepping on ice. Unlike the deer, though, I kept my balance. D screamed at me to help him. I took one good step and booted Trashley in the face, sending it violently flying across the room. It landed against the stove like the ragdoll it was, and I heard its porcelain face crack even further.
I reached down and pulled D up. He screamed in pain, and blood was gushing from his wounds, but he knew enough to get to stepping. There was a roar from the closet, and I peeked over my shoulder long enough to see a set of bull horns trying to wedge through the narrow closet door.
"We gotta move," I said, shouldering D's weight under my own. He was struggling to walk, and the pain was exquisite, but to his credit, he was not letting the oozing wounds slow him down. I'm convinced he would've just ripped that leg off at the knee and hobbled out the door if he could've.
We got to the back door, and I slapped at the handle. Like the front door, it was hot as well. I looked around for anything to cover my hand and spied an old rag in a nearby trash bag. With my free hand, I ripped it open and grabbed the rag. It was wet and smelled like death, but I didn't care. I touched the rag to the handle – it sizzled, and I could still feel the intense heat on my skin – but it worked well enough to try to open the door.
The handle wouldn't budge. I dropped the rag and tried to boot the door open, but all that did was send pain up my leg and back. I swore, but it was drowned out by the crashing coming from the living room. I glanced back and saw the closet door frame being ripped from the walls.
"Look out!" D yelled.
I turned in time to see Trashley leaping through the air with a fork in their hands. It landed on my leg and sunk the fork's tines into the back of my knee. I screamed in pain and lost my footing, sending both D and I to the ground. I had collapsed onto the doll and could feel it jabbing my shoulders with the fork.
I sat up, and the Jester lept for my face. D, without hesitation, plucked the doll out of the air like he was snagging a line drive. In one fluid motion, he turned and hurled it hard against the stove again.
I scrambled to my feet, my knees burning, and tried to bash the door open. I hit it three times as hard as my body could handle, and all I did was damage my shoulder. I went to slam into it a fourth time when I felt D's hand grab the waist of my pants and yank me down.
I landed hard on top of him, but he didn't mind. As I slammed into his chest, I turned to see Trashley grab the bottom of the stove with its stringy felt arms and easily lift it off the ground. With the ease of an ace pitcher hurling a fastball, the doll threw the stove in our direction.
My old duck and cover drills came into practice, and I covered my neck and head as the stove flew over our bodies. The stove slammed into the back door, cracking it in half and knocking it off its hinges. Daylight streamed in, and our salvation was a mere few feet away. I could see our way out to freedom.
But it was just an oasis.
The stove bounced off the wall, nicked my back, and landed square on D's right arm. It shattered under the weight. He let out a scream like a wounded wild animal. The way we were tangled up sent his painful hollering directly into my ear. He thrashed under me, trying to get away from the weight of the stove, but was only making the break worse.
I rolled off of him, grabbed the stove, and pushed it off his mangled arm. I reached down and helped D up, but he could barely move. I was afraid he was in shock, and if we lingered any longer, the thing pulling itself out of the closet would be out and after us. I didn't know what it had planned for us, but I didn't think it would invite us to a potluck or anything.
"I know it hurts, bro, but we have to…"
Then I smelled the gas. I looked over to where the stove had been and saw the telltale wavy vision of leaking gas. At that moment, like divine inspiration, a plan came to me. I reached into my pocket and found my lighter.
"I can't move," D said, "Just leave me, man."
"Told you I wasn't a bitch," I said. "Give me twenty feet of hustle, and I can get us out of this mess." I showed him the lighter, and he knew the plan. D nodded, gritted his teeth, and leaned his weight on me. He was in so much pain, but he bit his lip and moved.
I spied an old paper towel roll and grabbed it in my free hand. I managed to help D get out of the house and walked him about fifteen feet into the backyard. I placed him on the ground. He grabbed his arm and let out a whimper but didn't want to slow me down. "Take cover," I said, and he scooted away. I headed back to the house, but he called my name. I turned and saw his painful, sweaty face.
"Toast these motherfuckers," he spat out.
I nodded and headed back toward the house. I held the paper towel roll firmly and pulled out my lighter. I didn't know how fast the gas would ignite, but I knew I wouldn't be able to dawdle. I also realized this might be the last thing I ever did, but I was okay with that decision. It was worth it if I could send these two things back to hell.
When I got to the door, the smell of gas was strong. This entire house was an accelerant, and everything would light up like a city's Fourth of July celebration. I stepped inside, and it was surprisingly quiet. I looked over at where the closet door had been and only saw a massive hole. The thing had gotten out, but I didn't know where (or how) it was hiding.
When I turned my attention back to the gas, I saw the Jester. It was standing on the counter. As soon as I turned, it leaped at me. It landed on my neck and coiled its limbs around it like an anaconda. I struggled to breathe and fought with everything I had left in the tank. The Jester's hands, previously soft and cotton-filled, were now tipped with razor-sharp claws. It raked those Kruger-esque daggers across my face. Blood gushed from my wounds and dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision.
I screamed and pulled as hard as I could, but this little monster was velcroed to my body. I had dropped the lighter and paper towel roll in the struggle, but that was a secondary concern. I needed to get free before attempting to light this place up. I felt the doll's legs growing as it tried to wrap up my arms. I was face to face with its blinking, drawn-on eye.
It opened its half-mouth, and inside was row upon row of porcelain daggers. It lunged for my face to bite my cheek, but I held it off as best as I could. The arms around my neck started to tighten, and around the edges of my eyes, the world began to dim. I was afraid I was done for.
I felt my knees buckle, and I fell onto my back. The black edges of the vision were starting to tunnel. I had seconds to do something, or I'd be toast myself. I moved my thumbs under the Jester's tightening arms and pushed with all my might. At first, it didn't budge, but then I felt the pressure lessen and could breathe again.
"Fuck you," I spat and funneled all my stored-up anger and resentment, and strength into pushing this little clingy bitch off me. It snapped at my hands and caught my knuckles, but I kept going until its spindly arms were off my throat. I ripped its legs off my body and threw the Jester right towards the gas leak. It crashed against the wall, its half-face shattering on impact.
I searched around for my lighter and found it. I flicked the spark wheel so hard I feared it'd break. There were a few sparks, but nothing caught. I urged it on, taking a peek at where the monster was. As I looked up, I saw the Jester's new face. The porcelain had broken away to reveal a red and black pulsating mass of muscle, blood, and gore that dripped from the wound.
There was a bellow from the living room, and a massive creature that looked strikingly like a Minotaur, albeit with one mannequin arm, came stomping into view. It must've sensed my presence because it roared again and charged at the wall. The wall shuttered and cracked but held for the time being. I knew it'd come down easy the next time it ran at the wall.
I was running out of time.
I pressed my thumb down hard on the spark wheel and gave it a skin-ripping spin. It worked! There was finally a dancing orange flame at the edge of the Bic. I held it against the paper towel roll and waited for it to catch.
The wait felt painstakingly long. The Minotaur bellowed again and slammed into the wall. Its massive head came through. I looked at the Jester, getting down in a crouch to leap at me again.
"Light, goddamn it, LIGHT!" I screamed.
The temperature finally hit four hundred fifty-one degrees, and the flame transferred from the lighter to the towel roll. I threw the roll at the Jester as it took to the air. The roll hit him, and the impact sent them both to the floor. They landed right near the gas line.
I managed to get about seven feet outside before the flame caught the gas and sent the entire house sky-high. My body was thrown like a rag doll twenty feet into the neighbor's backyard. I landed on my shoulder with a sickening thud and blacked out.
Hours later, I woke up in a hospital room. A dozen or so machines around me were beeping and keeping me going. Pain racked my entire body, and each breath was a world of discomfort I'd never been to before. But I was alive.
Officially, the cause of the explosion was a gas leak. The fire department said it might've been leaking for years, but it was hard to determine because of all the stuff crammed into the home. D was in the hospital for about two weeks before being released. I was stuck for a few more weeks, as the explosion had rocked my brain and gave me post-concussion symptoms.
We shared a smoke outside on D's last day in the hospital. We talked about what happened and thought it best not to be totally honest with everyone. This was mainly because we were sure everyone hadn't been honest with us, especially Pete. The stranger had name-dropped him specifically, and Pete acted very strangely in the explosion's aftermath. He was surprised we had survived and asked a lot of odd questions, some of which seemed to suggest he knew more than he was letting on.
D has slyly started looking for a new job, and I'll follow him when I get out. I'm counting down the days not only because I'm sick of hospital food but also because I don't feel safe here. Pete keeps popping in, and I swear I saw the stranger hanging around the lobby.
But what really concerns me and makes me think I might not make it out of here is what happened last night. At about three in the morning, when everyone on the floor was sleeping, I heard a bell jingling in the corridor outside my room. When I went out to look, I saw the shadow of a short, long-limbed person turn the corner and disappear.

The wait felt painstakingly long. The Minotaur bellowed again and slammed into the wall. Its massive head came through. I looked at the Jester, getting down in a crouch to leap at me again.was inside, I had to deal with my addiction with both therapy and forced sobriety. It wasn't easy. During my lowest moment, vomiting into a prison toilet, I found something I thought I had lost – hope. I came out the other side of my stint healthier and ready to take my life in a new direction. Prison had been the tough love I needed. I was ready for the free world again.
I soon discovered the free world wasn't ready for me. Part of my release agreement was that I needed to find steady employment. I thought that sounded simple enough, but I had no idea how cruel the world could be to anyone who colored outside life's lines. Despite being capable, willing, and reformed, no one wanted to hire me.
My parole officer told me not to stress because he knew a few people who might be able to help. He saw that I was trying and made a few phone calls. He hooked me up with Pete, a good dude who owned a junk removal company named "Moving Buddies."
"Been out long?" he asked when I sat with him.
"About a month."
"How did the family take it?"
"Don't have one to lean on anymore," I said. "Part of the reason I ended up where I ended up, ya know?"
"I understand," Pete said, "We all deal with grief in our own way."
"Most of those ways don't end in jail time," I said.
"No, they do not. But, it brought you back from the dead and to my doorstep. I'd say that's a win/win."
Less than two days later, Pete hired me, and I was ready to go. Despite the name, Moving Buddies was not a moving company in the traditional sense. It was a junk removal company that specialized in cleaning up evictions and hoarder homes. It was long, backbreaking work, but it kept me busy. I welcomed the distraction.
I wasn't even the only former con on the team. My partner and driver, Devon Baker, or D, as he liked to be called, had also done time in his past. We chatted about it the first day, and it bonded us. Like me, he had gone in for armed robbery, but he had received more time. Like me, he struggled once he got out. He took this job out of desperation, too, but he said it saved his life.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, it sucks," he said as we drove to our new job, "but it's better than freakin' jail, ya know? Plus, Pete's not a bad guy. Tight as a dolphin's asshole with money, but he gets the life. He'll cut you some slack."
"I was starting to think people like that didn't exist."
"Nobody loves ex-cons," he said. "Wait until you start up with the dating apps. You're gonna really feel the hate then."
I laughed, "Who'd hate a cuddly teddy bear like you, D?"
He laughed, "That's what I'm saying. But it's cold out there, brother. Ice cold."
We were headed out to our gig for the day. Some old fart had passed and left a mess for his kids. I hated hoarder homes because there was always some extra bullshit hidden in the piles. You could not imagine smells. They stick with you hours after your shift. We've found dead pets and living wild animals in some homes. Never a dull moment.
We arrived and were greeted by an exhausted-looking man in his late forties. He was the son of the dead guy and told us what we already knew from the work order. I felt sympathy for him – he inherited a huge mess.
"Sorry about how it looks. Dad went, well, crazy in the last few years. All he talked about was conspiracies and people out to get him and...and." He caught himself. "He changed, ya know? Then he let this place turn into this."
"Not unusual in our line of work," I said, trying to comfort him.
"Believe it or not, this isn't even the worst we've ever seen," D added.
That seemed to ease the man's mind, and he left us to do our work. D sidled up to me as he left and nodded at the house. "Yo, this is the worst freaking house I've ever seen. Easy."
When we finally cracked the tomb's seal, the full brunt of the smell hit us like the concussive wave of an atomic bomb. A potent combination of death, rotting food, and vomit stung our nostrils. D wasn't lying – this was the worst ever.
"Let's have a smoke before we get hip deep in this shit," D said, pulling out his vape.
"Agreed," I said, pulling out my crinkled pack of Marlboro Reds and naked lady Bic.
"Those'll kill you, man," D said, nodding at my pack of cigarettes.
"Those chemicals won't?"
"Shit," he said, exhaling a massive puff of vapor, "I didn't say all that now."
We finished our smokes and steadied ourselves. We wiped Vapo rub under our noses and opened the door. The entryway was crammed with old garbage. The house had so many flies that I thought it might get yanked from its foundation and take to the air. The old man may have died, but there was still some life inside this place.
"Goddamn," D said, "How did the city not condemn this place?"
"Maybe he knew people in high places?"
"Should've met a garbage man," he said, getting to work.
Hoarders were the worst. What they all have in common is some sort of mental break that sets them on this course. I've found it's often associated with some kind of loss—a job, a spouse, a child. They compensate for their loss by trying to save anything that "could be important" or that "they could use later." They never do. Thus, you get homes stuffed with towering monuments to our disposable culture.
"The hell?" D said from a corner of the living room.
I walked over to him and looked down at the ground where he was pointing. "It's trash," I said.
"Under the bag, man!"
I moved the bag and nearly vomited. Under the bag were the remains of two very dead cats. They looked like they'd recently died but were under a few ancient garbage bags. I saw a wrapper for a McDLT in one bag, and they stopped selling that in the 90s.
"You didn't know those were cats?"
"I know they're cats! Look at their backs."
I did, and that's when I saw what looked like a bite mark on the remains. Something with razor-sharp teeth had chomped some of the spines away. You'd miss it if you quickly glanced at the remains, but when you looked at them, you could clearly see the bite marks.
"What the hell did that?" I asked.
"That looks like a lion bite, bro," D said, shaken up.
"If we find a lion in here, I'm gone," I joked. "It may not be hungry, though, considering he seemed to have recently had a snack."
"Shit's not funny," D said, "I have two cats. Scooby and Shaggy."
"My bad," I said.
"Did this old man put them there?" D asked, "Because this is some old-ass garbage, and those are recently dead."
"Maybe whatever ate them dragged them here.+ Want me to remove them?" I asked but didn't wait for his response. As I went to bag up the cats, we heard something skitter on the floor behind us. We both turned around, and a few trash bags rolled off a pile and spilled on the floor.
"If there is actually a goddamn lion in here, I swear to God," I whispered.
"Shh," D said, his eyes scanning the room.
We both looked around for the source of the noise but didn't see anything. I was about to say something when we heard more scrambling off to our left. I rushed over, moved away a few bags, and let out a terrified, high-pitched scream. After the initial shock, I started laughing.
"What?" D asked.
I reached down and pulled up a beat-up jester doll buried in the stacks. Its porcelain face had split down the middle at some point, and the left side was gone. The right side's painted face had worn away with time and exposure to garbage juice, but one unblinking eye stared out at us. Its long limbs hung toward the ground, hunched over like it had a bad back.
"Who would want this?" I asked.
"Weird ass hoarders."
We heard skittering again, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a massive rat run from under some old cardboard boxes and back towards the bedrooms. I dropped the doll and chased after it, but it was gone before I could do anything. D shook his head.
"Be careful when we're grabbing shit," he said, "those things will take off the tip of your fingers."
I grabbed the doll and propped it up on the pile of trash so it looked like it was sitting on a throne of garbage. "I'll hire the jester to look out for us. It needs a name. What about Trashley?" As soon as I said it, the doll's heavy limbs made it slump to its side.
D laughed. "Trashely already sleeping on the job!"
We went back to work. We set about clearing out the living room and kitchen before we moved on to the closets and pantries in those rooms. Closets were the worst part of a hoarder's home. They crammed closets full of the weirdest shit known to man. Once, we pulled eight taxidermied animals out of a living room closet. It was a nativity scene. Baby Jesus was a stuffed dormouse.
We played rock, paper, scissors, and D lost. He had "won" closet duty. I set back to clearing out the living room leading towards the hallway and let D work on the closet.
D had moved out three garbage bags when I heard him yell and fall out of the closet. I ran over to him as he was scooting away from the closet door. He was genuinely spooked. I helped him up and asked him what happened.
It took him a second to put his thoughts together. "Something touched me."
"What?"
"I swear to god, man. Something reached out and touched my hand."
"It was probably," I said before he cut me off.
"*Bitch*, I know what a hand feels like. A goddamn hand touched my arm."
"Okay," I said, "Gonna let the bitch comment slide."
"My bad, man," he said, shaking his head, "but that shit ain't never happened to me before."
"You gotta a flashlight? Let's take a look."
"In the truck," he said. "I'll go grab it."
He left, and I shook my head. I was working under the belief that he had touched a rat's tail or something. Rats loved the stink of trash, but people tended to avoid it. The smell in this place would keep Oscar the Grouch at arm's length. From behind me, I heard the rats scrambling around.
I went over to where I had heard the noise but didn't see anything. D came back into the house and saw me looking for the rat. "Heard something?" he asked.
"I think we may have a few friends watching us," I said, glancing through the garbage piles. "Can I see that flashlight?"
He handed it to me, and I shined the beam into the sea of living room trash bags. Nothing jumped out at me, so I assumed the rats were adept at hiding from humans. Something did catch my eye, though – Trashley. The doll wasn't in the place where I had left it. Maybe it had fallen during the closet panic, and I hadn't noticed.
I plucked up the doll again. "It might've been our jester friend here," I said, "and not the rats."
"I don't like that doll," D said. "Reminds me of Poltergeist, the goddamn clown thing. Man, that messed me up good."
"Maybe we should put a tracker on it," I joked.
D didn't laugh. "Good idea." He eyed something on the ground and grabbed it, "Put this on it."
He handed me an old cat collar with a little bell on it. I gave him a look, but he insisted. I dutifully put it around Trashley's neck and gave it a shake. The bell jingled, and D looked satisfied. I put Trashely back on the trash pile throne and handed D back the flashlight.
"Let's go see about your closet hand." I walked over and pulled the closet door back open. "Hey," I said to the potential person in the closet, "we're gonna empty that closet. If you wanna get out of here without the two of us stomping you, I'd leave now."
Nothing happened. I wasn't surprised. It's not that I doubted D—if anything, the dude was honest to a fault—but the story was so far-fetched. There's no way anyone could be in there. But still...D is honest. If he felt a hand, he might've felt a hand.
"You gonna feel around in there or what?" he asked me.
"I said let's look."
"You gotta feel too. I felt."
"I didn't agree to that," I protested.
"Neither did I, but here we are," he said, "don't make me pull rank."
I wasn't going to win. The only thing left to do would be to stick my arm into the garbage closet, hoping that a phantom hand wouldn't grab my arm. What the hell even was this job?
D shined the light into the darkness. Two bags fell and split open on the floor. One was filled with maggots. I looked back at D, "If I'm sticking my hand in there, you're picking up the creepy crawlies."
"Fine," he said. "Now, come on, man. Let's do this."
I sighed and reached into the closet. It was packed with smelly garbage bags, and the old owner had also heaped in a bunch of raggedy blankets to fill the gaps between the bags. I slid my arm into a tar-black opening and felt around in the darkness.
"How long do I need to feel around for a hand?"
"Bro, just do me a solid, huh? I need to know I'm not crazy."
I pushed my arm deeper into the hole and felt around the trash bags. I half expected D to laugh and tell me this was some elaborate prank he was pulling. But, when I glanced back at him, he intently watched me. There was real fear in his eyes – a thing I didn't think I'd ever see out of him.
"I don't think…"
My hand brushed against something long and pointy, like a finger. My eyes bugged open because D ran closer with the flashlight. "You feel it, don't you?!"
I did feel it. It was a hand. I reached around, found the wrist, and pulled as hard as possible. All the bags around me started to roll, and before I knew it, my force sent me falling back on my ass. The rank garbage rained all over me, but I still held onto that arm.
I pushed the bags off myself, maggots landing on my face and hair, and stood up. D dropped the flashlight and was doubled over with laughter. I looked down at my hand and saw why. I was holding an arm, but it didn't belong to a man or some creature.
It was a mannequin arm.
I threw it down with disgust and shook all the creepy crawlies off me. D had dropped to the floor, barely able to breathe. I was hot. This job was bad enough, and now this? "Did you know it was a mannequin arm?"
"I swear...I swear I didn't, man. But that shit is funny as hell."
D has the kind of laugh that can bring anyone around to join him. Not long after, I fell under the spell of his piped-piper chuckles. I threw the arm at him, and he caught it. He helped me off the ground and apologized between the laughs. He patted my back with the arm and started cracking up again. I hurled the arm across the room.
That's when we heard Trashey's bells ringing. We looked to where I had left the Jester, but it wasn't there anymore. D and I locked eyes. We both wanted to speak but found our ability to do so gone as if we had violated an agreement with Ursula, the sea witch. We heard the little bell jingling again, this time coming from one of the back rooms.
"How?" was all D could push out.
"Rats," I said. "Has to be."
"Why are the rats taking the doll?"
BOOM! The closet door behind us slammed shut. We both jumped, and when D's feet hit the ground, he sprinted out the front door. I wanted to join him, but I caught a shadow moving along the wall leading to the kitchen and turned to it. In my peripheral vision, it looked like something with long limbs skulking into the kitchen.
The bell started ringing again. It was still in the bedrooms. "He..hello?" I called out. Nobody answered. I took a step toward the crowded hallway that led to the back bedrooms. "Is anyone there?"
This time, there was the sound of something moving in the kitchen. Unlike the quick skittering we had heard previously, this was someone moving slowly and deliberately. Someone trying not to make any noise. They were either trying to hide from me or stalk me. Neither idea sparked joy.
"Bro, I'm sorry," D said, peering in from the front door. "I didn't mean to run like away like a little kid, man."
I turned to him and put my fingers to my lips to shush him. He nodded, and I pointed toward the kitchen. He wearily inched back into the house, whipping his head around to see if anything around him was out of the ordinary. Feeling assured he was safe, he crept in but kept the flashlight in his hand, cocked and ready to swing.
The bell started dinging again in the back room. I pointed towards myself and then the backrooms. D nodded, but he wasn't going to join me back there. I wasn't even sure I could make my way back there as quietly as I wanted. There was a small path between the piles of trash, and I was too big for it. I was sure I'd make a racket cutting through, giving whoever was back there a fair warning that someone was coming.
Regardless, I was going to try. As I took my first step, we heard something moving in the kitchen again. This time, D saw the same shadow I had. He mimed to me that he thought a man was in there and that he was going to head that way. I delayed my trip to the back bedrooms and hung back just in case he needed some help. Still, after the adrenaline of the moment passed, I had second thoughts about going to the back bedrooms alone. It seemed like the kind of decision a dumb character would make in a slasher movie. I may not be smart, but I ain't that dumb, either.
I quietly stepped toward the kitchen, flanking D as he approached. We heard the cabinet doors open and slam close. There was more movement on the floor as well. It sounded like more than one rat. Then the strangest noise came out of there...the jingling of a bell.
Someone threw a trash bag toward the living room as we stood there. It landed with a wet splat and spilled the rotten innards across the floor. The food in the bag was so old it had melted into a putrid, black ooze. It sprayed onto D's pants.
"You about to get messed up!" D yelled. He rushed into the kitchen, flashlight held high, ready to crown the bag tosser. I ran behind him, believing a show of force might deter whoever was in there.
But when we entered the room, there wasn't a person in there. We saw two rats running along the counters but no lanky-limbed person. The rats squealed, dove into the trash pile, and disappeared from our view. D looked over at me and shook his head. "There was someone in here, man. Those damn rats didn't throw that bag."
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" came a voice from the front door.
D and I turned to see a nicely dressed middle-aged white guy standing there. His fake but friendly smile was plastered on his face and didn't present any immediate threat. With this job, you always get looky-loos who want to see how demented their neighbor had been, but they rarely walk into the house. Considering everything that had happened up to this point, the Pope could show up, and we'd be leery.
"You can't be in here, man," D said.
"I'm always here," the man said.
"Well, then your streak ends today," D said, keeping calm, "this is a job site now and isn't safe for the general public."
The man started laughing. "I'm not the general public."
"Did you know the man that lived here?" I asked.
"In a sense. I watched him for years," the stranger said. "He made many poor decisions. Strange person."
"Well, he's not even a person anymore," D said, his tone shifting. "He's passed on and left us this mess to clean up. Since we're in control of the site, we can ask you to leave. If you get hurt, we can get sued. If we get sued, I get fired. I get fired, my landlord kicks me out of my place, and I have to live in my car. Since I'm not trying to live out of my beater, you have to go, sir."
"You live off Baltimore Avenue, right?"
D's face dropped. He did live near there, but how did this guy know that? D squared up and took a more aggressive posture. "Who are you?" D asked. "You work with Pete?"
"I know Pete," he said, "but he's never met me."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Yeah," I said, "you're speaking in riddles. Just tell us who you are and what you want."
Before the man could speak, we heard Trashley's bell jingling again. This time, it was coming from inside the kitchen despite my having heard it in the back bedroom just minutes earlier. How did it get into the kitchen? D and I turned back and saw a rat run across the floor with a cat collar around its neck.
"Was that the collar on Trashley?" I asked.
"Yeah," D said. We heard the jingling as the rat dove into the sea of trash bags and disappeared from sight. Then, it went quiet again.
"Where is the doll?" I asked.
We returned to where the stranger had been standing, but he was gone. I glanced back toward the front door and saw it swinging on its hinges. I looked at D and shrugged. As weird as that dude was, he was gone now.
"Who the hell was that?"
"How did he know where I lived?" D said. "What the hell is going on, man?"
There was more jingling in the kitchen again. We turned away from the open front door and back to the noise. D and I entered the garbage-stuffed room and scanned for the bell's location. It rang a few more times but stopped as suddenly as it started.
I elbowed D in the ribs and nodded at the kitchen window. It was mostly covered with old shoe boxes and a ratty old curtain, but you could see shadows moving outside. We saw the stranger pass by the window, heading toward the back door.
We waited a beat, and then the door handle started shaking like he was trying to get in. The door must've been locked because he didn't open it. D was beginning to get frustrated and yelled out, "Hey man, you gotta get the hell out now. Okay?"
The man stopped but didn't walk away. You could still see him outside in the curtain. D, thoroughly annoyed at this point, marched through the trash and ripped open the curtain on the back door. Instead of seeing the man standing there, though, we saw nothing but the waist-high grass in the backyard.
"What the…" D mumbled and let go of the curtain. You could see the stranger's outline again when it swung back into place. I audibly gasped, and D grabbed the curtain and yanked it away again. Again, there was nothing but grass waving in the breeze.
"How?" I said.
Before D could respond, one of the cabinet doors swung open, and Trashley spilled out. The doll landed with a thud on the counter. We watched the lifeless ragdoll as it lay on the ugly formica and waited for it to move again. As if it read our thoughts, the doll's left arm fell and dangled off the edge. That was enough to drive us both out of the kitchen.
As we returned to the living room, the front door opened again. The stranger had come back. D walked up to him and got into the man's face. I ran over and put an arm on D's shoulder, but he shrugged me off.
"Who the hell are you, man? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on this place and see if things were in order. You two seem to be the perfect men for the job."
"Did Pete send you?" I asked. "Did you know the guy that owned this place?"
"He was one of the people we monitored. He was meddling with things beyond his control, and he paid for that curiosity."
"You killed him?"
"No. He awakened something he shouldn't have. He paid for that decision. I came to witness this.""
"Witness what?"
"Maybe we should call Pete," I said. "Get this straightened out.
"I didn't know dolls could stand like that," the stranger said, pointing toward the kitchen.
We both snapped our heads back toward the kitchen and saw Trashley standing tall on its thin fabric legs. It didn't move, but it was clear it had moved at some point. It was in a small pile on the counter when we last saw it. The whole energy in the house had changed in an unnatural direction, like seeing watch hands run backward.
D's eyes were so wide I was afraid they'd pop out. He was gripping the flashlight so tight I thought he might shatter it. Drops of sweat formed on his bald head and rolled down his face. He wasn't a tiny man, and I was worried these scares might cause his heart to stop.
Confusion is too weak a word to describe what we felt in the moment—befuddlement, maybe—like discovering there had been aliens on Earth this whole time, and your boss was one of them. As we stared, the stranger said, "I think now you have a real mess on your hands."
"I think I'm about to beat your ass," D said, turning to confront the man but not finding him standing there. "What the hell? Where did he go?"
There was a rumble of thunder, and it shook the house. D and I both ducked like something was going to fall on us. I felt the thunderclap's vibrations in my guts. I glanced at the windows and noticed the sun still peaking through the edges of the blackout curtains. There were no clouds overhead, and I realized that the thunderclap didn't come from above us but from below.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my throat when we heard something knocking inside the closed closet door. It was quiet initially, but each successive thump was louder than the last. Soon, the knocks were so loud and so violent the door knob rattled with each rap.
I glanced back into the kitchen. The Jester was gone. It had either fallen behind some of the bags or had moved away. Neither option made me feel too good. If this thing could skulk through the trash without making a sound, it could sneak right up behind us without us knowing. I didn't know if it was violent, and I had no intention of finding out, but the thought nested in my brain and set up shop.
"D, the doll is gone."
"Man, screw this place," he said, nodding toward the door, "let's get the hell out of here."
"Best idea I've heard today," I said, heading toward the door.
D got there first, and when he grabbed the handle, he let out a painful yelp. I didn't need to ask what happened because I had heard the sizzle. He pulled his hand back, and the mark had already reddened and started to swell.
"What the hell?" he said, blowing on his hand as if his breath would cure it.
The knocking in the closet started up again. It was loud from the jump, but the noise that bothered me was hearing the doorknob turn and the closet door squeak open. I ran out of the vestibule and back into the living room to discover the Jester hanging from the handle. Its half face was turned up into a crooked smile.
"D," I said, my voice trailing. He walked over to me, and when he saw Trashley hanging from the door, all the blood ran from his face.
"H-hello?" I offered to the open door.
Nothing but silence was coming from the closet. I was happy for the silence. Loved every sweet second of it. Maybe it meant that all this hoo-doo voodoo shit was over, and we could get back to normal.
It wasn't over.
The closet door flew open, sending the jester doll flying into the kitchen and out of sight. We heard something breathing inside the darkness of the closet. Across the living room, there was a movement in the trash piles. I looked over to see the mannequin hand flying through the air and back into the closet.
"We gotta go," I said.
D slapped at the front door handle again, which was still hot. He shook his head. "I can't go this way."
We burst back into the living room and heard more rumbling from the closet. Keeping a wide berth, we stayed away from the closet and eyed the back door in the kitchen. Before we could step in that direction, there was another bone-shaking thunderclap. This time, though, all the piles of trash from the back bedrooms flooded into the living room and created a wall of garbage blocking access to the back of the house.
There was a growl from the closet, and we both looked over and saw that mannequin's hand reach out and grip the door frame. Whatever was in there had attached the arm to its body and was pulling into the living room. That was our signal to get the hell out.
We turned to run, and all of the kitchen trash rushed forward. Like the back room trash, the bags formed a wall trapping us inside the living room. There was another growl from the closet, and a second arm reached out and grabbed the door frame. This arm looked organic but not well. The flesh was gray and ripped. You could see muscles and bones as the arm flexed on the door.
"Hell naw," D said. He ran at the wall of trash blocking the kitchen and threw his whole massive frame into it. Like the Kool-Aid man, he burst through and landed with a thud on the filthy floor. His plan worked, and even though he was covered in foul-smelling shit juice and in a living nightmare, he turned back to me with a smile so wide you would've thought he'd just won the Powerball.
The smile quickly faded. From the top of the refrigerator, Trashley uncoiled like a spring and launched itself at D with an old rusty knife in its tiny hands. It landed with a chaotic thud but quickly scrambled to its feet and sunk the blade into D's calves.
D screamed, but the doll just kept slashing at his legs. Blood was pouring out of a dozen wounds and mixing in with the rotten garbage on the floor. D tried grabbing the Jester, but it quickly jabbed the knife forward and clean through D's hand. It tried pulling the blade out but was stuck on the gristle and tendons.
I leaped through the wall and landed on the slick floor like Bambi stepping on ice. Unlike the deer, though, I kept my balance. D screamed at me to help him. I took one good step and booted Trashley in the face, sending it violently flying across the room. It landed against the stove like the ragdoll it was, and I heard it's porcelain face crack even further.
I reached down and pulled D up. He screamed in pain, and blood was gushing from his wounds, but he knew enough to get to stepping. There was a roar from the closet, and I peeked over my shoulder long enough to see a set of bull horns trying to wedge through the narrow closet door.
"We gotta move," I said, shouldering D's weight under my own. He was struggling to walk, and the pain was exquisite, but to his credit, he was not letting the oozing wounds slow him down. I'm convinced he would've just ripped that leg off at the knee and hobbled out the door if he could've.
We got to the back door, and I slapped at the handle. Like the front door, it was hot as well. I looked around for anything to cover my hand and spied an old rag in a nearby trash bag. With my free hand, I ripped it open and grabbed the rag. It was wet and smelled like death, but I didn't care. I touched the rag to the handle – it sizzled, and I could still feel the intense heat on my skin – but it worked well enough to try to open the door.
The handle wouldn't budge. I dropped the rag and tried to boot the door open, but all that did was send pain up my leg and back. I swore, but it was drowned out by the crashing coming from the living room. I glanced back and saw the closet door frame being ripped from the walls.
"Look out!" D yelled.
I turned in time to see Trashley leaping through the air with a fork in their hands. It landed on my leg and sunk the fork's tines into the back of my knee. I screamed in pain and lost my footing, sending both D and I to the ground. I had collapsed onto the doll and could feel it jabbing my shoulders with the fork.
I sat up, and the Jester lept for my face. D, without hesitation, plucked the doll out of the air like he was snagging a line drive. In one fluid motion, he turned and hurled it hard against the stove again.
I scrambled to my feet, my knees burning, and tried to bash the door open. I hit it three times as hard as my body could handle, and all I did was damage my shoulder. I went to slam into it a fourth time when I felt D's hand grab the waist of my pants and yank me down.
I landed hard on top of him, but he didn't mind. As I slammed into his chest, I turned to see Trashley grab the bottom of the stove with its stringy felt arms and easily lift it off the ground. With the ease of an ace pitcher hurling a fastball, the doll threw the stove in our direction.
My old duck and cover drills came into practice, and I covered my neck and head as the stove flew over our bodies. The stove slammed into the back door, cracking it in half and knocking it off its hinges. Daylight streamed in, and our salvation was a mere few feet away. I could see our way out to freedom.
But it was just an oasis.
The stove bounced off the wall, nicked my back, and landed square on D's right arm. It shattered under the weight. He let out a scream like a wounded wild animal. The way we were tangled up sent his painful hollering directly into my ear. He thrashed under me, trying to get away from the weight of the stove, but was only making the break worse.
I rolled off of him, grabbed the stove, and pushed it off his mangled arm. I reached down and helped D up, but he could barely move. I was afraid he was in shock, and if we lingered any longer, the thing pulling itself out of the closet would be out and after us. I didn't know what it had planned for us, but I didn't think it would invite us to a potluck or anything.
"I know it hurts, bro, but we have to…"
Then I smelled the gas. I looked over to where the stove had been and saw the telltale wavy vision of leaking gas. At that moment, like divine inspiration, a plan came to me. I reached into my pocket and found my lighter.
"I can't move," D said, "Just leave me, man."
"Told you I wasn't a bitch," I said. "Give me twenty feet of hustle, and I can get us out of this mess." I showed him the lighter, and he knew the plan. D nodded, gritted his teeth, and leaned his weight on me. He was in so much pain, but he bit his lip and moved.
I spied an old paper towel roll and grabbed it in my free hand. I managed to help D get out of the house and walked him about fifteen feet into the backyard. I placed him on the ground. He grabbed his arm and let out a whimper but didn't want to slow me down. "Take cover," I said, and he scooted away. I headed back to the house, but he called my name. I turned and saw his painful, sweaty face.
"Toast these bitches," he spat out.
I nodded and headed back toward the house. I held the paper towel roll firmly and pulled out my lighter. I didn't know how fast the gas would ignite, but I knew I wouldn't be able to dawdle. I also realized this might be the last thing I ever did, but I was okay with that decision. It was worth it if I could send these two things back to hell.
When I got to the door, the smell of gas was strong. This entire house was an accelerant, and everything would light up like a city's Fourth of July celebration. I stepped inside, and it was surprisingly quiet. I looked over at where the closet door had been and only saw a massive hole. The thing had gotten out, but I didn't know where (or how) it was hiding.
When I turned my attention back to the gas, I saw the Jester. It was standing on the counter. As soon as I turned, it leaped at me. It landed on my neck and coiled its limbs around it like an anaconda. I struggled to breathe and fought with everything I had left in the tank. The Jester's hands, previously soft and cotton-filled, were now tipped with razor-sharp claws. It raked those Kruger-esque daggers across my face. Blood gushed from my wounds and dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision.
I screamed and pulled as hard as I could, but this little monster was velcroed to my body. I had dropped the lighter and paper towel roll in the struggle, but that was a secondary concern. I needed to get free before attempting to light this place up. I felt the doll's legs growing as it tried to wrap up my arms. I was face to face with its blinking, drawn-on eye.
It opened its half-mouth, and inside was row upon row of porcelain daggers. It lunged for my face to bite my cheek, but I held it off as best as I could. The arms around my neck started to tighten, and around the edges of my eyes, the world began to dim. I was afraid I was done for.
I felt my knees buckle, and I fell onto my back. The black edges of the vision were starting to tunnel. I had seconds to do something, or I'd be toast myself. I moved my thumbs under the Jester's tightening arms and pushed with all my might. At first, it didn't budge, but then I felt the pressure lessen and could breathe again.
"Goddamn you," I spat and funneled all my stored-up anger and resentment, and strength into pushing this little clingy bitch off me. It snapped at my hands and caught my knuckles, but I kept going until its spindly arms were off my throat. I ripped its legs off my body and threw the Jester right towards the gas leak. It crashed against the wall, its half-face shattering on impact.
I searched around for my lighter and found it. I flicked the spark wheel so hard I feared it'd break. There were a few sparks, but nothing caught. I urged it on, taking a peek at where the monster was. As I looked up, I saw the Jester's new face. The porcelain had broken away to reveal a red and black pulsating mass of muscle, blood, and gore that dripped from the wound.
There was a bellow from the living room, and a massive creature that looked strikingly like a Minotaur, albeit with one mannequin arm, came stomping into view. It must've sensed my presence because it roared again and charged at the wall. The wall shuttered and cracked but held for the time being. I knew it'd come down easy the next time it ran at the wall.
I was running out of time.
I pressed my thumb down hard on the spark wheel and gave it a skin-ripping spin. It worked! There was finally a dancing orange flame at the edge of the Bic. I held it against the paper towel roll and waited for it to catch.
I leaped through the wall and landed on the slick floor like Bambi stepping on ice. Unlike the deer, though, I kept my balance. D screamed at me to help him. I took one good step and booted Trashley in the face, sending it violently flying across the room. It landed against the stove like the ragdoll it was, and I heard its porcelain face crack even further.
"Light, goddamn it, LIGHT!" I screamed.
The temperature finally hit four hundred fifty-one degrees, and the flame transferred from the lighter to the towel roll. I threw the roll at the Jester as it took to the air. The roll hit him, and the impact sent them both to the floor. They landed right near the gas line.
I managed to get about seven feet outside before the flame caught the gas and sent the entire house sky-high. My body was thrown like a rag doll twenty feet into the neighbor's backyard. I landed on my shoulder with a sickening thud and blacked out.
Hours later, I woke up in a hospital room. A dozen or so machines around me were beeping and keeping me going. Pain racked my entire body, and each breath was a world of discomfort I'd never been to before. But I was alive.
Officially, the cause of the explosion was a gas leak. The fire department said it might've been leaking for years, but it was hard to determine because of all the stuff crammed into the home. D was in the hospital for about two weeks before being released. I was stuck for a few more weeks, as the explosion had rocked my brain and gave me post-concussion symptoms.
We shared a smoke outside on D's last day in the hospital. We talked about what happened and thought it best not to be totally honest with everyone. This was mainly because we were sure everyone hadn't been honest with us, especially Pete. The stranger had name-dropped him specifically, and Pete acted very strangely in the explosion's aftermath. He was surprised we had survived and asked a lot of odd questions, some of which seemed to suggest he knew more than he was letting on.
D has slyly started looking for a new job, and I'll follow him when I get out. I'm counting down the days not only because I'm sick of hospital food but also because I don't feel safe here. Pete keeps popping in, and I swear I saw the stranger hanging around the lobby.
But what really concerns me and makes me think I might not make it out of here is what happened last night. At about three in the morning, when everyone on the floor was sleeping, I heard a bell jingling in the corridor outside my room. When I went out to look, I saw the shadow of a short, long-limbed person turn the corner and disappear.

For most of my years, I'd been dragged around by the twin steeds of addiction and crime without a thought beyond my next fix. Then I was arrested. That was the wake-up call I needed. Once I was inside, I had to deal with my addiction with both therapy and forced sobriety. It wasn't easy. During my lowest moment, vomiting into a prison toilet, I found something I thought I had lost – hope. I came out the other side of my stint healthier and ready to take my life in a new direction. Prison had been the tough love I needed. I was ready for the free world again.
I soon discovered the free world wasn't ready for me. Part of my release agreement was that I needed to find steady employment. I thought that sounded simple enough, but I had no idea how cruel the world could be to anyone who colored outside life's lines. Despite being capable, willing, and reformed, no one wanted to hire me.
My parole officer told me not to stress because he knew a few people who might be able to help. He saw that I was trying and made a few phone calls. He hooked me up with Pete, a good dude who owned a junk removal company named "Moving Buddies."
"Been out long?" he asked when I sat with him.
"About a month."
"How did the family take it?"
"Don't have one to lean on anymore," I said. "Part of the reason I ended up where I ended up, ya know?"
"I understand," Pete said, "We all deal with grief in our own way."
"Most of those ways don't end in jail time," I said.
"No, they do not. But, it brought you back from the dead and to my doorstep. I'd say that's a win/win."
Less than two days later, Pete hired me, and I was ready to go. Despite the name, Moving Buddies was not a moving company in the traditional sense. It was a junk removal company that specialized in cleaning up evictions and hoarder homes. It was long, backbreaking work, but it kept me busy. I welcomed the distraction.
I wasn't even the only former con on the team. My partner and driver, Devon Baker, or D, as he liked to be called, had also done time in his past. We chatted about it the first day, and it bonded us. Like me, he had gone in for armed robbery, but he had received more time. Like me, he struggled once he got out. He took this job out of desperation, too, but he said it saved his life.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, it sucks," he said as we drove to our new job, "but it's better than fuckin' jail, ya know? Plus, Pete's not a bad guy. Tight as a dolphin's asshole with money, but he gets the life. He'll cut you some slack."
"I was starting to think people like that didn't exist."
"Nobody loves ex-cons," he said. "Wait until you start up with the dating apps. You're gonna really feel the hate then."
I laughed, "Who'd hate a cuddly teddy bear like you, D?"
He laughed, "That's what I'm saying. But it's cold out there, brother. Ice cold."
We were headed out to our gig for the day. Some old fart had passed and left a mess for his kids. I hated hoarder homes because there was always some extra bullshit hidden in the piles. You could not imagine smells. They stick with you hours after your shift. We've found dead pets and living wild animals in some homes. Never a dull moment.
We arrived and were greeted by an exhausted-looking man in his late forties. He was the son of the dead guy and told us what we already knew from the work order. I felt sympathy for him – he inherited a huge mess.
"Sorry about how it looks. Dad went, well, crazy in the last few years. All he talked about was conspiracies and people out to get him and...and." He caught himself. "He changed, ya know? Then he let this place turn into this."
"Not unusual in our line of work," I said, trying to comfort him.
"Believe it or not, this isn't even the worst we've ever seen," D added.
That seemed to ease the man's mind, and he left us to do our work. D sidled up to me as he left and nodded at the house. "Yo, this is the worst fucking house I've ever seen. Easy."
When we finally cracked the tomb's seal, the full brunt of the smell hit us like the concussive wave of an atomic bomb. A potent combination of death, rotting food, and vomit stung our nostrils. D wasn't lying – this was the worst ever.
"Let's have a smoke before we get hip deep in this shit," D said, pulling out his vape.
"Agreed," I said, pulling out my crinkled pack of Marlboro Reds and naked lady Bic.
"Those'll kill you, man," D said, nodding at my pack of cigarettes.
"Those chemicals won't?"
"Shit," he said, exhaling a massive puff of vapor, "I didn't say all that now."
We finished our smokes and steadied ourselves. We wiped Vapo rub under our noses and opened the door. The entryway was crammed with old garbage. The house had so many flies that I thought it might get yanked from its foundation and take to the air. The old man may have died, but there was still some life inside this place.
"Goddamn," D said, "How did the city not condemn this place?"
"Maybe he knew people in high places?"
"Should've met a garbage man," he said, getting to work.
Hoarders were the worst. What they all have in common is some sort of mental break that sets them on this course. I've found it's often associated with some kind of loss—a job, a spouse, a child. They compensate for their loss by trying to save anything that "could be important" or that "they could use later." They never do. Thus, you get homes stuffed with towering monuments to our disposable culture.
"The hell?" D said from a corner of the living room.
I walked over to him and looked down at the ground where he was pointing. "It's trash," I said.
"Under the bag, man!"
I moved the bag and nearly vomited. Under the bag were the remains of two very dead cats. They looked like they'd recently died but were under a few ancient garbage bags. I saw a wrapper for a McDLT in one bag, and they stopped selling that in the 90s.
"You didn't know those were cats?"
"I know they're cats! Look at their backs."
I did, and that's when I saw what looked like a bite mark on the remains. Something with razor-sharp teeth had chomped some of the spines away. You'd miss it if you quickly glanced at the remains, but when you looked at them, you could clearly see the bite marks.
"What the hell did that?" I asked.
"That looks like a lion bite, bro," D said, shaken up.
"If we find a lion in here, I'm gone," I joked. "It may not be hungry, though, considering he seemed to have recently had a snack."
"Shit's not funny," D said, "I have two cats. Scooby and Shaggy."
"My bad," I said.
"Did this old man put them there?" D asked, "Because this is some old-ass garbage, and those are recently dead."
"Maybe whatever ate them dragged them here.+ Want me to remove them?" I asked but didn't wait for his response. As I went to bag up the cats, we heard something skitter on the floor behind us. We both turned around, and a few trash bags rolled off a pile and spilled on the floor.
"If there is actually a fucking lion in here, I swear to God," I whispered.
"Shh," D said, his eyes scanning the room.
We both looked around for the source of the noise but didn't see anything. I was about to say something when we heard more scrambling off to our left. I rushed over, moved away a few bags, and let out a terrified, high-pitched scream. After the initial shock, I started laughing.
"What?" D asked.
I reached down and pulled up a beat-up jester doll buried in the stacks. Its porcelain face had split down the middle at some point, and the left side was gone. The right side's painted face had worn away with time and exposure to garbage juice, but one unblinking eye stared out at us. Its long limbs hung toward the ground, hunched over like it had a bad back.
"Who would want this?" I asked.
"Weird fucking hoarders."
We heard skittering again, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a massive rat run from under some old cardboard boxes and back towards the bedrooms. I dropped the doll and chased after it, but it was gone before I could do anything. D shook his head.
"Be careful when we're grabbing shit," he said, "those things will take off the tip of your fingers."
I grabbed the doll and propped it up on the pile of trash so it looked like it was sitting on a throne of garbage. "I'll hire the jester to look out for us. It needs a name. What about Trashley?" As soon as I said it, the doll's heavy limbs made it slump to its side.
D laughed. "Trashely already sleeping on the job!"
We went back to work. We set about clearing out the living room and kitchen before we moved on to the closets and pantries in those rooms. Closets were the worst part of a hoarder's home. They crammed closets full of the weirdest shit known to man. Once, we pulled eight taxidermied animals out of a living room closet. It was a nativity scene. Baby Jesus was a stuffed dormouse.
We played rock, paper, scissors, and D lost. He had "won" closet duty. I set back to clearing out the living room leading towards the hallway and let D work on the closet.
D had moved out three garbage bags when I heard him yell and fall out of the closet. I ran over to him as he was scooting away from the closet door. He was genuinely spooked. I helped him up and asked him what happened.
It took him a second to put his thoughts together. "Something touched me."
"What?"
"I swear to god, man. Something reached out and touched my hand."
"It was probably," I said before he cut me off.
"Bitch, I know what a hand feels like. A fuckin' hand touched my arm."
"Okay," I said, "Gonna let the bitch comment slide."
"My bad, man," he said, shaking his head, "but that shit ain't never fucking happened to me before."
"You gotta a flashlight? Let's take a look."
"In the truck," he said. "I'll go grab it."
He left, and I shook my head. I was working under the belief that he had touched a rat's tail or something. Rats loved the stink of trash, but people tended to avoid it. The smell in this place would keep Oscar the Grouch at arm's length. From behind me, I heard the rats scrambling around.
I went over to where I had heard the noise but didn't see anything. D came back into the house and saw me looking for the rat. "Heard something?" he asked.
"I think we may have a few friends watching us," I said, glancing through the garbage piles. "Can I see that flashlight?"
He handed it to me, and I shined the beam into the sea of living room trash bags. Nothing jumped out at me, so I assumed the rats were adept at hiding from humans. Something did catch my eye, though – Trashley. The doll wasn't in the place where I had left it. Maybe it had fallen during the closet panic, and I hadn't noticed.
I plucked up the doll again. "It might've been our jester friend here," I said, "and not the rats."
"I don't like that doll," D said. "Reminds me of Poltergeist, the fuckin' clown thing. Man, that messed me up good."
"Maybe we should put a tracker on it," I joked.
D didn't laugh. "Good idea." He eyed something on the ground and grabbed it, "Put this on it."
He handed me an old cat collar with a little bell on it. I gave him a look, but he insisted. I dutifully put it around Trashley's neck and gave it a shake. The bell jingled, and D looked satisfied. I put Trashely back on the trash pile throne and handed D back the flashlight.
"Let's go see about your closet hand." I walked over and pulled the closet door back open. "Hey," I said to the potential person in the closet, "we're gonna empty that closet. If you wanna get out of here without the two of us stomping you, I'd leave now."
Nothing happened. I wasn't surprised. It's not that I doubted D—if anything, the dude was honest to a fault—but the story was so far-fetched. There's no way anyone could be in there. But still...D is honest. If he felt a hand, he might've felt a hand.
"You gonna feel around in there or what?" he asked me.
"I said let's look."
"You gotta feel too. I felt."
"I didn't agree to that," I protested.
"Neither did I, but here we are," he said, "don't make me pull rank."
I wasn't going to win. The only thing left to do would be to stick my arm into the garbage closet, hoping that a phantom hand wouldn't grab my arm. What the fuck even was this job?
D shined the light into the darkness. Two bags fell and split open on the floor. One was filled with maggots. I looked back at D, "If I'm sticking my hand in there, you're picking up the creepy crawlies."
"Fine," he said. "Now, come on, man. Let's do this."
I sighed and reached into the closet. It was packed with smelly garbage bags, and the old owner had also heaped in a bunch of raggedy blankets to fill the gaps between the bags. I slid my arm into a tar-black opening and felt around in the darkness.
"How long do I need to feel around for a hand?"
"Bro, just do me a solid, huh? I need to know I'm not crazy."
I pushed my arm deeper into the hole and felt around the trash bags. I half expected D to laugh and tell me this was some elaborate prank he was pulling. But, when I glanced back at him, he intently watched me. There was real fear in his eyes – a thing I didn't think I'd ever see out of him.
"I don't think…"
My hand brushed against something long and pointy, like a finger. My eyes bugged open because D ran closer with the flashlight. "You feel it, don't you?!"
I did feel it. It was a hand. I reached around, found the wrist, and pulled as hard as possible. All the bags around me started to roll, and before I knew it, my force sent me falling back on my ass. The rank garbage rained all over me, but I still held onto that arm.
I pushed the bags off myself, maggots landing on my face and hair, and stood up. D dropped the flashlight and was doubled over with laughter. I looked down at my hand and saw why. I was holding an arm, but it didn't belong to a man or some creature.
It was a mannequin arm.
I threw it down with disgust and shook all the creepy crawlies off me. D had dropped to the floor, barely able to breathe. I was hot. This job was bad enough, and now this? "Did you fuckin' know it was a mannequin arm?"
"I swear...I swear I didn't, man. But that shit is funny as fuck."
D has the kind of laugh that can bring anyone around to join him. Not long after, I fell under the spell of his piped-piper chuckles. I threw the arm at him, and he caught it. He helped me off the ground and apologized between the laughs. He patted my back with the arm and started cracking up again. I hurled the arm across the room.
That's when we heard Trashey's bells ringing. We looked to where I had left the Jester, but it wasn't there anymore. D and I locked eyes. We both wanted to speak but found our ability to do so gone as if we had violated an agreement with Ursula, the sea witch. We heard the little bell jingling again, this time coming from one of the back rooms.
"How?" was all D could push out.
"Rats," I said. "Has to be."
"Why are the rats taking the doll?"
BOOM! The closet door behind us slammed shut. We both jumped, and when D's feet hit the ground, he sprinted out the front door. I wanted to join him, but I caught a shadow moving along the wall leading to the kitchen and turned to it. In my peripheral vision, it looked like something with long limbs skulking into the kitchen.
The bell started ringing again. It was still in the bedrooms. "He..hello?" I called out. Nobody answered. I took a step toward the crowded hallway that led to the back bedrooms. "Is anyone there?"
This time, there was the sound of something moving in the kitchen. Unlike the quick skittering we had heard previously, this was someone moving slowly and deliberately. Someone trying not to make any noise. They were either trying to hide from me or stalk me. Neither idea sparked joy.
"Bro, I'm sorry," D said, peering in from the front door. "I didn't mean to run like away like a little kid, man."
I turned to him and put my fingers to my lips to shush him. He nodded, and I pointed toward the kitchen. He wearily inched back into the house, whipping his head around to see if anything around him was out of the ordinary. Feeling assured he was safe, he crept in but kept the flashlight in his hand, cocked and ready to swing.
The bell started dinging again in the back room. I pointed towards myself and then the backrooms. D nodded, but he wasn't going to join me back there. I wasn't even sure I could make my way back there as quietly as I wanted. There was a small path between the piles of trash, and I was too big for it. I was sure I'd make a racket cutting through, giving whoever was back there a fair warning that someone was coming.
Regardless, I was going to try. As I took my first step, we heard something moving in the kitchen again. This time, D saw the same shadow I had. He mimed to me that he thought a man was in there and that he was going to head that way. I delayed my trip to the back bedrooms and hung back just in case he needed some help. Still, after the adrenaline of the moment passed, I had second thoughts about going to the back bedrooms alone. It seemed like the kind of decision a dumb character would make in a slasher movie. I may not be smart, but I ain't that dumb, either.
I quietly stepped toward the kitchen, flanking D as he approached. We heard the cabinet doors open and slam close. There was more movement on the floor as well. It sounded like more than one rat. Then the strangest noise came out of there...the jingling of a bell.
Someone threw a trash bag toward the living room as we stood there. It landed with a wet splat and spilled the rotten innards across the floor. The food in the bag was so old it had melted into a putrid, black ooze. It sprayed onto D's pants.
"You about to get fucked up!" D yelled. He rushed into the kitchen, flashlight held high, ready to crown the bag tosser. I ran behind him, believing a show of force might deter whoever was in there.
But when we entered the room, there wasn't a person in there. We saw two rats running along the counters but no lanky-limbed person. The rats squealed, dove into the trash pile, and disappeared from our view. D looked over at me and shook his head. "There was someone in here, man. Those damn rats didn't throw that bag."
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" came a voice from the front door.
D and I turned to see a nicely dressed middle-aged white guy standing there. His fake but friendly smile was plastered on his face and didn't present any immediate threat. With this job, you always get looky-loos who want to see how demented their neighbor had been, but they rarely walk into the house. Considering everything that had happened up to this point, the Pope could show up, and we'd be leery.
"You can't be in here, man," D said.
"I'm always here," the man said.
"Well, then your streak ends today," D said, keeping calm, "this is a job site now and isn't safe for the general public."
The man started laughing. "I'm not the general public."
"Did you know the man that lived here?" I asked.
"In a sense. I watched him for years," the stranger said. "He made many poor decisions. Strange person."
"Well, he's not even a person anymore," D said, his tone shifting. "He's passed on and left us this mess to clean up. Since we're in control of the site, we can ask you to leave. If you get hurt, we can get sued. If we get sued, I get fired. I get fired, my landlord kicks me out of my place, and I have to live in my car. Since I'm not trying to live out of my beater, you have to go, sir."
"You live off Baltimore Avenue, right?"
D's face dropped. He did live near there, but how did this guy know that? D squared up and took a more aggressive posture. "Who are you?" D asked. "You work with Pete?"
"I know Pete," he said, "but he's never met me."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Yeah," I said, "you're speaking in riddles. Just tell us who you are and what you want."
Before the man could speak, we heard Trashley's bell jingling again. This time, it was coming from inside the kitchen despite my having heard it in the back bedroom just minutes earlier. How did it get into the kitchen? D and I turned back and saw a rat run across the floor with a cat collar around its neck.
"Was that the collar on Trashley?" I asked.
"Yeah," D said. We heard the jingling as the rat dove into the sea of trash bags and disappeared from sight. Then, it went quiet again.
"Where is the doll?" I asked.
We returned to where the stranger had been standing, but he was gone. I glanced back toward the front door and saw it swinging on its hinges. I looked at D and shrugged. As weird as that dude was, he was gone now.
"Who the fuck was that?"
"How did he know where I lived?" D said. "What the hell is going on, man?"
There was more jingling in the kitchen again. We turned away from the open front door and back to the noise. D and I entered the garbage-stuffed room and scanned for the bell's location. It rang a few more times but stopped as suddenly as it started.
I elbowed D in the ribs and nodded at the kitchen window. It was mostly covered with old shoe boxes and a ratty old curtain, but you could see shadows moving outside. We saw the stranger pass by the window, heading toward the back door.
We waited a beat, and then the door handle started shaking like he was trying to get in. The door must've been locked because he didn't open it. D was beginning to get frustrated and yelled out, "Hey man, you gotta get the fuck out now. Okay?"
The man stopped but didn't walk away. You could still see him outside in the curtain. D, thoroughly annoyed at this point, marched through the trash and ripped open the curtain on the back door. Instead of seeing the man standing there, though, we saw nothing but the waist-high grass in the backyard.
"What the…" D mumbled and let go of the curtain. You could see the stranger's outline again when it swung back into place. I audibly gasped, and D grabbed the curtain and yanked it away again. Again, there was nothing but grass waving in the breeze.
"How?" I said.
Before D could respond, one of the cabinet doors swung open, and Trashley spilled out. The doll landed with a thud on the counter. We watched the lifeless ragdoll as it lay on the ugly formica and waited for it to move again. As if it read our thoughts, the doll's left arm fell and dangled off the edge. That was enough to drive us both out of the kitchen.
As we returned to the living room, the front door opened again. The stranger had come back. D walked up to him and got into the man's face. I ran over and put an arm on D's shoulder, but he shrugged me off.
"Who the hell are you, man? What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on this place and see if things were in order. You two seem to be the perfect men for the job."
"Did Pete send you?" I asked. "Did you know the guy that owned this place?"
"He was one of the people we monitored. He was meddling with things beyond his control, and he paid for that curiosity."
"You killed him?"
"No. He awakened something he shouldn't have. He paid for that decision. I came to witness this.""
"Witness what?"
"Maybe we should call Pete," I said. "Get this straightened out.
"I didn't know dolls could stand like that," the stranger said, pointing toward the kitchen.
We both snapped our heads back toward the kitchen and saw Trashley standing tall on its thin fabric legs. It didn't move, but it was clear it had moved at some point. It was in a small pile on the counter when we last saw it. The whole energy in the house had changed in an unnatural direction, like seeing watch hands run backward.
D's eyes were so wide I was afraid they'd pop out. He was gripping the flashlight so tight I thought he might shatter it. Drops of sweat formed on his bald head and rolled down his face. He wasn't a tiny man, and I was worried these scares might cause his heart to stop.
Confusion is too weak a word to describe what we felt in the moment—befuddlement, maybe—like discovering there had been aliens on Earth this whole time, and your boss was one of them. As we stared, the stranger said, "I think now you have a real mess on your hands."
"I think I'm about to beat your ass," D said, turning to confront the man but not finding him standing there. "What the hell? Where did he go?"
There was a rumble of thunder, and it shook the house. D and I both ducked like something was going to fall on us. I felt the thunderclap's vibrations in my guts. I glanced at the windows and noticed the sun still peaking through the edges of the blackout curtains. There were no clouds overhead, and I realized that the thunderclap didn't come from above us but from below.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my throat when we heard something knocking inside the closed closet door. It was quiet initially, but each successive thump was louder than the last. Soon, the knocks were so loud and so violent the door knob rattled with each rap.
I glanced back into the kitchen. The Jester was gone. It had either fallen behind some of the bags or had moved away. Neither option made me feel too good. If this thing could skulk through the trash without making a sound, it could sneak right up behind us without us knowing. I didn't know if it was violent, and I had no intention of finding out, but the thought nested in my brain and set up shop.
"D, the doll is gone."
"Man, fuck this place," he said, nodding toward the door, "let's get the hell out of here."
"Best idea I've heard today," I said, heading toward the door.
D got there first, and when he grabbed the handle, he let out a painful yelp. I didn't need to ask what happened because I had heard the sizzle. He pulled his hand back, and the mark had already reddened and started to swell.
"What the hell?" he said, blowing on his hand as if his breath would cure it.
The knocking in the closet started up again. It was loud from the jump, but the noise that bothered me was hearing the doorknob turn and the closet door squeak open. I ran out of the vestibule and back into the living room to discover the Jester hanging from the handle. Its half face was turned up into a crooked smile.
"D," I said, my voice trailing. He walked over to me, and when he saw Trashley hanging from the door, all the blood ran from his face.
"H-hello?" I offered to the open door.
Nothing but silence was coming from the closet. I was happy for the silence. Loved every sweet second of it. Maybe it meant that all this hoo-doo voodoo shit was over, and we could get back to normal.
It wasn't over.
The closet door flew open, sending the jester doll flying into the kitchen and out of sight. We heard something breathing inside the darkness of the closet. Across the living room, there was a movement in the trash piles. I looked over to see the mannequin hand flying through the air and back into the closet.
"We gotta go," I said.
D slapped at the front door handle again, which was still hot. He shook his head. "I can't go this way."
We burst back into the living room and heard more rumbling from the closet. Keeping a wide berth, we stayed away from the closet and eyed the back door in the kitchen. Before we could step in that direction, there was another bone-shaking thunderclap. This time, though, all the piles of trash from the back bedrooms flooded into the living room and created a wall of garbage blocking access to the back of the house.
There was a growl from the closet, and we both looked over and saw that mannequin's hand reach out and grip the door frame. Whatever was in there had attached the arm to its body and was pulling into the living room. That was our signal to get the hell out.
We turned to run, and all of the kitchen trash rushed forward. Like the back room trash, the bags formed a wall trapping us inside the living room. There was another growl from the closet, and a second arm reached out and grabbed the door frame. This arm looked organic but not well. The flesh was gray and ripped. You could see muscles and bones as the arm flexed on the door.
"Fuck this," D said. He ran at the wall of trash blocking the kitchen and threw his whole massive frame into it. Like the Kool-Aid man, he burst through and landed with a thud on the filthy floor. His plan worked, and even though he was covered in foul-smelling shit juice and in a living nightmare, he turned back to me with a smile so wide you would've thought he'd just won the Powerball.
The smile quickly faded. From the top of the refrigerator, Trashley uncoiled like a spring and launched itself at D with an old rusty knife in its tiny hands. It landed with a chaotic thud but quickly scrambled to its feet and sunk the blade into D's calves.
D screamed, but the doll just kept slashing at his legs. Blood was pouring out of a dozen wounds and mixing in with the rotten garbage on the floor. D tried grabbing the Jester, but it quickly jabbed the knife forward and clean through D's hand. It tried pulling the blade out but was stuck on the gristle and tendons.
I leaped through the wall and landed on the slick floor like Bambi stepping on ice. Unlike the deer, though, I kept my balance. D screamed at me to help him. I took one good step and booted Trashley in the face, sending it violently flying across the room. It landed against the stove like the ragdoll it was, and I heard it's porcelain face crack even further.
I reached down and pulled D up. He screamed in pain, and blood was gushing from his wounds, but he knew enough to get to stepping. There was a roar from the closet, and I peeked over my shoulder long enough to see a set of bull horns trying to wedge through the narrow closet door.
"We gotta move," I said, shouldering D's weight under my own. He was struggling to walk, and the pain was exquisite, but to his credit, he was not letting the oozing wounds slow him down. I'm convinced he would've just ripped that leg off at the knee and hobbled out the door if he could've.
We got to the back door, and I slapped at the handle. Like the front door, it was hot as well. I looked around for anything to cover my hand and spied an old rag in a nearby trash bag. With my free hand, I ripped it open and grabbed the rag. It was wet and smelled like death, but I didn't care. I touched the rag to the handle – it sizzled, and I could still feel the intense heat on my skin – but it worked well enough to try to open the door.
The handle wouldn't budge. I dropped the rag and tried to boot the door open, but all that did was send pain up my leg and back. I swore, but it was drowned out by the crashing coming from the living room. I glanced back and saw the closet door frame being ripped from the walls.
"Look out!" D yelled.
I turned in time to see Trashley leaping through the air with a fork in their hands. It landed on my leg and sunk the fork's tines into the back of my knee. I screamed in pain and lost my footing, sending both D and I to the ground. I had collapsed onto the doll and could feel it jabbing my shoulders with the fork.
I sat up, and the Jester lept for my face. D, without hesitation, plucked the doll out of the air like he was snagging a line drive. In one fluid motion, he turned and hurled it hard against the stove again.
I scrambled to my feet, my knees burning, and tried to bash the door open. I hit it three times as hard as my body could handle, and all I did was damage my shoulder. I went to slam into it a fourth time when I felt D's hand grab the waist of my pants and yank me down.
I landed hard on top of him, but he didn't mind. As I slammed into his chest, I turned to see Trashley grab the bottom of the stove with its stringy felt arms and easily lift it off the ground. With the ease of an ace pitcher hurling a fastball, the doll threw the stove in our direction.
My old duck and cover drills came into practice, and I covered my neck and head as the stove flew over our bodies. The stove slammed into the back door, cracking it in half and knocking it off its hinges. Daylight streamed in, and our salvation was a mere few feet away. I could see our way out to freedom.
But it was just an oasis.
The stove bounced off the wall, nicked my back, and landed square on D's right arm. It shattered under the weight. He let out a scream like a wounded wild animal. The way we were tangled up sent his painful hollering directly into my ear. He thrashed under me, trying to get away from the weight of the stove, but was only making the break worse.
I rolled off of him, grabbed the stove, and pushed it off his mangled arm. I reached down and helped D up, but he could barely move. I was afraid he was in shock, and if we lingered any longer, the thing pulling itself out of the closet would be out and after us. I didn't know what it had planned for us, but I didn't think it would invite us to a potluck or anything.
"I know it hurts, bro, but we have to…"
Then I smelled the gas. I looked over to where the stove had been and saw the telltale wavy vision of leaking gas. At that moment, like divine inspiration, a plan came to me. I reached into my pocket and found my lighter.
"I can't move," D said, "Just leave me, man."
"Told you I wasn't a bitch," I said. "Give me twenty feet of hustle, and I can get us out of this mess." I showed him the lighter, and he knew the plan. D nodded, gritted his teeth, and leaned his weight on me. He was in so much pain, but he bit his lip and moved.
I spied an old paper towel roll and grabbed it in my free hand. I managed to help D get out of the house and walked him about fifteen feet into the backyard. I placed him on the ground. He grabbed his arm and let out a whimper but didn't want to slow me down. "Take cover," I said, and he scooted away. I headed back to the house, but he called my name. I turned and saw his painful, sweaty face.
"Toast these motherfuckers," he spat out.
I nodded and headed back toward the house. I held the paper towel roll firmly and pulled out my lighter. I didn't know how fast the gas would ignite, but I knew I wouldn't be able to dawdle. I also realized this might be the last thing I ever did, but I was okay with that decision. It was worth it if I could send these two things back to hell.
When I got to the door, the smell of gas was strong. This entire house was an accelerant, and everything would light up like a city's Fourth of July celebration. I stepped inside, and it was surprisingly quiet. I looked over at where the closet door had been and only saw a massive hole. The thing had gotten out, but I didn't know where (or how) it was hiding.
When I turned my attention back to the gas, I saw the Jester. It was standing on the counter. As soon as I turned, it leaped at me. It landed on my neck and coiled its limbs around it like an anaconda. I struggled to breathe and fought with everything I had left in the tank. The Jester's hands, previously soft and cotton-filled, were now tipped with razor-sharp claws. It raked those Kruger-esque daggers across my face. Blood gushed from my wounds and dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision.
I screamed and pulled as hard as I could, but this little monster was velcroed to my body. I had dropped the lighter and paper towel roll in the struggle, but that was a secondary concern. I needed to get free before attempting to light this place up. I felt the doll's legs growing as it tried to wrap up my arms. I was face to face with its blinking, drawn-on eye.
It opened its half-mouth, and inside was row upon row of porcelain daggers. It lunged for my face to bite my cheek, but I held it off as best as I could. The arms around my neck started to tighten, and around the edges of my eyes, the world began to dim. I was afraid I was done for.
I felt my knees buckle, and I fell onto my back. The black edges of the vision were starting to tunnel. I had seconds to do something, or I'd be toast myself. I moved my thumbs under the Jester's tightening arms and pushed with all my might. At first, it didn't budge, but then I felt the pressure lessen and could breathe again.
"Fuck you," I spat and funneled all my stored-up anger and resentment, and strength into pushing this little clingy bitch off me. It snapped at my hands and caught my knuckles, but I kept going until its spindly arms were off my throat. I ripped its legs off my body and threw the Jester right towards the gas leak. It crashed against the wall, its half-face shattering on impact.
I searched around for my lighter and found it. I flicked the spark wheel so hard I feared it'd break. There were a few sparks, but nothing caught. I urged it on, taking a peek at where the monster was. As I looked up, I saw the Jester's new face. The porcelain had broken away to reveal a red and black pulsating mass of muscle, blood, and gore that dripped from the wound.
There was a bellow from the living room, and a massive creature that looked strikingly like a Minotaur, albeit with one mannequin arm, came stomping into view. It must've sensed my presence because it roared again and charged at the wall. The wall shuttered and cracked but held for the time being. I knew it'd come down easy the next time it ran at the wall.
I was running out of time.
I pressed my thumb down hard on the spark wheel and gave it a skin-ripping spin. It worked! There was finally a dancing orange flame at the edge of the Bic. I held it against the paper towel roll and waited for it to catch.
The wait felt painstakingly long. The Minotaur bellowed again and slammed into the wall. It's massive head came through. I looked at the Jester, getting down in a crouch to leap at me again.
"Light, goddamn it, LIGHT!" I screamed.
The temperature finally hit four hundred fifty-one degrees, and the flame transferred from the lighter to the towel roll. I threw the roll at the Jester as it took to the air. The roll hit him, and the impact sent them both to the floor. They landed right near the gas line.
I managed to get about seven feet outside before the flame caught the gas and sent the entire house sky-high. My body was thrown like a rag doll twenty feet into the neighbor's backyard. I landed on my shoulder with a sickening thud and blacked out.
Hours later, I woke up in a hospital room. A dozen or so machines around me were beeping and keeping me going. Pain racked my entire body, and each breath was a world of discomfort I'd never been to before. But I was alive.
Officially, the cause of the explosion was a gas leak. The fire department said it might've been leaking for years, but it was hard to determine because of all the stuff crammed into the home. D was in the hospital for about two weeks before being released. I was stuck for a few more weeks, as the explosion had rocked my brain and gave me post-concussion symptoms.
We shared a smoke outside on D's last day in the hospital. We talked about what happened and thought it best not to be totally honest with everyone. This was mainly because we were sure everyone hadn't been honest with us, especially Pete. The stranger had name-dropped him specifically, and Pete acted very strangely in the explosion's aftermath. He was surprised we had survived and asked a lot of odd questions, some of which seemed to suggest he knew more than he was letting on.
D has slyly started looking for a new job, and I'll follow him when I get out. I'm counting down the days not only because I'm sick of hospital food but also because I don't feel safe here. Pete keeps popping in, and I swear I saw the stranger hanging around the lobby.
But what really concerns me and makes me think I might not make it out of here is what happened last night. At about three in the morning, when everyone on the floor was sleeping, I heard a bell jingling in the corridor outside my room. When I went out to look, I saw the shadow of a short, long-limbed person turn the corner and disappear.