I'm just posting this to give y'all an opportunity to express opinions. It will probably be interesting to see if/how the gals and guys have different perspectives.
Skipping i.e. Swiping Left through the Discover list on ourtime this morning I see a 'familiar face'. I recognize this woman as one who I've seen repeatedly over the years on pof, okc, match, and now ourtime. IMO superficially she has everything going for her. We met over lunch four years ago. She declined to continue dating saying that we didn't have enough in common. That was an assertion I didn't agree with. But, hey, this is OLD and women say what they say. Men, too, I assume. I take rejection at face value so I 'moved on'. At least she didn't ghost.
Yet here she is still on OLD years later. I suppose it's also possible that she has been in and out of one or more dating relationships in the intervening years. One more 'fly in the ointment' though: the age she reports in her profile (65) is the same age she reported four years ago. I believe that ourtime calculates that age from what the person says is their birthdate.
So, the question I find myself asking the universe when something like this happens is ''what is this woman looking for?'' She lives in a more densely populated county than where I live and, based on the aforementioned having plenty going for her, I'd expect her to have met several Mr Rights/Golden Bachelors.

Hey, hi. It’s great to know that you are someone who is a hosting enthusiast and loves inviting people over. That’s an amazing quality to have. But, to get to your question - absolutely! One brand that immediately clicks my mind that has the best and top quality tea cups and saucers set is Ariane Home.
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The tea cups and saucers at Ariane Home are so versatile as they come in diverse sizes and patterns - straight from beautiful and vibrantly colored motifs to clean and sleek designs, making them ideal for anyone and everyone’s taste and personality.
Ariane Home’s tea cups and saucers are not just different and unique but also very elegant looking which makes them go well with any kind of theme, style, event and interiors of your space. Not just that, the vibrant color palettes and patterns and the elegant design layout of these tea cups and saucers fit well from a big party to an intimate gathering to a light brunch or a tea party at your home.
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Explore the entire range of collections that Ariane Home has to offer by browsing through their website online and experience the joy of hosting and dining today. Hope this was helpful!
Even if it's an intimate tea party or a grand event, Ariane Home’s tea cups and saucers will impress your guests and enhance your tea-drinking experience. You can also explore their entire range of styles, colors, design layouts and patterns to find the perfect match for your hosting needs.
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Currently in caelid level 85. 40 vig 35 dex 15 arc 15 faith (for blood flame w/ faith boost talisman) Using bloodhounds fang +5 Question is should I keep leveling dex or should I start pumping arcane for more bleed damage? Faith for more damage from blood flame spell? or just keep leveling dex?

Im F21 - I’ve been suffering since September of last year. Everyday I’m profusely vomiting. I’ve vomited blood a good 15 times. I have incurable nausea that no sickness tablet will touch. I can’t keep any food down whatsoever. I’m permanently burping. I struggle with stomach and intestinal pain. It permanently feels like my stomach is swollen and in knots. I also suffered from extreme bloating for the first 4 months but have since found things to manage that. I’ve been on PPIs for over a year. It’s a horrendous way of living. I did a h.pylori stool test months back. It came back negative. But just yesterday I went back to the doctors and they’re gonna put me through for another stool test. It turns out if you’re on PPI such as omeprazole or lansoprazole it can actually cause a false negative so doctors let me down when they did the first test. I’ve been suffering for months losing loads of weight and completely unable to eat or enjoy food worrying and I’ve given myself eating disorders because of how poorly I’ve been. I’ve now come off my PPI and I’m really hoping that in two weeks time when I take my stool test, it actually comes back positive. I match all the symptoms. I’ve been waiting for my gastroenterologist referral since September2023 it has been expedited/sped up four times and I’m still waiting. I’ve been feeling like I’ve been dying, but the doctors say there’s nothing they can do. It’s only when you’re threaten complaints that they start doing a little bit of something. The only thing I have found to keep me going all these months is cannabis but that is literally masking my problem not solving it. If you’re stool sample came back negative were you on PPIs? Additionally, I was also told it is gastritis. It is gastroenteritis. it is IBS. It is IBD. I just think they failed to do the correct testing. Is anyone going through the same or a similar experience? I’m feeling desperate. If my test comes back negative for h.pylori I don’t know what else I can do. I’m really struggling

I feel that whatever comes, all the things I dream, which is mostly just love, is going to be more disappointing than never having it at all. My desires control my life and I haven’t been content in years. I don’t believe at this point, being a 33yo Uber driver trying to enter security engineering, that a successful career, beautiful wife, and family, will do much for me at all. I quit my shitty job as a software analyst to focus on making this change. I’m very close, but when driving Uber, I have had the chance to talk to a lot of beautiful women and people in general. Almost everyone I speak to, especially these women I would die for, reflect in some instances, the issues that led to the breakups and problems I’ve had with past girlfriends. Short-sightedness, insincere, shallow, narcissistic, etc. And the ladies from my past and the ones met in passing that carry positive qualities, I know to have a deep-set list of problems that prohibit them from loving and even living without fetters
My point is from writing this is that my desire for love and contentment in the world will never match what the world has to offer. It will always be severely less than what I expect it to be. It’s such a sad truth that it shakes me to the core and makes me pity everyone. It makes me pity that we have this hope, that these objects are going to somehow tame this voracious while delusional monster called desire.
I see it written on the faces of the most well-to-do individuals. Again, I speak to the rich and the poor, I hear it in their voice, this constant distain or glib way of speaking. They may have it all but happen to have a deep hole in their heart beneath what they’ve acquired. I can tell that some of these people that I secretly want to be are far more depressed and concerned than I am.
If you’ve made it this far, I have a few questions for you.
Have you ever felt complete from some activity, pursuit, accomplishment that made the whole journey worthwhile?
Do you find the world to be justified in its unfairness and meaningless cruelty?
Is there a purpose to continue to suffer if it will only stop at death?
I do not intend to kill myself, but I find the action to no longer be an abomination. Nor do I find it to be rational. I find it to be a precaution, something that is done in order to avoid something else. There are ways around this that make this option irrational but in the same sense, can be concluded to some as the only option.
I hope you all find peace and love.

I'm (26/M) pretty new to dating apps and talking to girls in general. But if a girl only answers your questions, but doesn't ask any questions back. I'm guessing it's probably not worth the time to continue a conversation. Also considering I've never really been on a real date, once I go on a date what's the best way to let em know I've never had a girlfriend, cuz I'm sure that'll scare some girls away.
Also, do girls not swipe through profiles because a week ago I signed up for Hinge plus, I've had 6 matches which is pretty good for me considering on the free version of bumble I might as well been non-existent. 1 originally agreed to a date, but she called it off since I don't take church seriously; 3 of which produced light conversation, 1 didn't respond, and 1 unmatched 5 mins before i sent a message. But I've had 0 likes, do chicks just go through who already liked them and just pick and choose.
But so far I feel like I made some good progress, considering when I was swiping regularly, I was getting about 1-2 matches a day. But since Monday when the one girl called off the date, it's had me down a bit and already took a break from looking through too many more profiles. I know I'm rambling, but it has been a good confidence booster, since all the girls I matched with were all pretty cute. And I guess tall chicks like me (I'm 6'1") because 5 of the girls were 5'9" or taller.
And for anyone that thinks you'll get more chicks just because you're tall and muscular (I have more of an athletic build, but short people think I'm buff), it's not true. Because my little brother is only 5'9' and skinny, a little better looking mind you, but hasn't had problem maintaining a girlfriend since high school. It's definitely comes down to having confidence and actually being able to talk to chicks. And I know plenty of short dudes who can pull chicks no problem.
Anyway, this got longer than I expected, and I would wish you all luck on your dating journeys, but luck is for suckers, make your own destiny, and stay motivated.

I feel that whatever comes, all the things I dream, which is mostly just love, is going to be more disappointing than never having it at all. My desires control my life and I haven’t been content in years. I don’t believe at this point, being a 33yo Uber driver trying to enter security engineering, that a successful career, beautiful wife, and family, will do much for me at all. I quit my shitty job as a software analyst to focus on making this change. I’m very close, but when driving Uber, I have had the chance to talk to a lot of beautiful women and people in general. Almost everyone I speak to, especially these women I would die for, reflect in some instances, the issues that led to the breakups and problems I’ve had with past girlfriends. Short-sightedness, insincere, shallow, narcissistic, etc. And the ladies from my past and the ones met in passing that carry positive qualities, I know to have a deep-set list of problems that prohibit them from loving and even living without fetters
My point is from writing this is that my desire for love and contentment in the world will never match what the world has to offer. It will always be severely less than what I expect it to be. It’s such a sad truth that it shakes me to the core and makes me pity everyone. It makes me pity that we have this hope, that these objects are going to somehow tame this voracious while delusional monster called desire.
I see it written on the faces of the most well-to-do individuals. Again, I speak to the rich and the poor, I hear it in their voice, this constant distain or glib way of speaking. They may have it all but happen to have a deep hole their heart beneath what they’ve acquired. I can tell that some of these people that I secretly want to be are far more depressed and concerned than I am.
If you’ve made it this far, I have a few questions for you.
Have you ever felt complete from some activity, pursuit, accomplishment that made the whole journey worthwhile?
Do you find the world to be justified in its unfairness and meaningless cruelty?
Is there a purpose to continue to suffer if it will only stop at death?
I do not intend to kill myself, but I find the action to no longer be an abomination. Nor do I find it to be rational. I find it to be a precaution, something that is done in order to avoid something else. There are ways around this that make this option irrational but in the same sense, can be concluded to some as the only option.
I hope you all find peace and love.

Hi!
I am quite aware that checked luggage and non revenue flights are not a perfect match but for three weeks of travel we kind of have to check some luggage.
I have one question regarding it: what happens if you checked your luggage but you can’t make the originally planned flight if the next flight is
1) the same route with the same Airline just later on the same day: I expect that should not be an issue and the luggage will just be transferred to the next flight
2) different route with the same airline: can the luggage be transferred or do I have to get it and re-check it?
3) different airline: probably not possible to transfer it?
I work for LH if that matters in any regards.
Thank you!

Hiya, long time fan of Ireland (even played football in Athlone for a bit). I'm going to be in Portugal during the match, and was hoping to attend. Any clue what section of the stadium is for away supporters? I've seen a few places selling tix, but no clue where the Irish fans will be! Is there a meetup somewhere before the match, escort etc? I did Scotland vs Mexico in Mexico City a few years ago and had an amazing day out, hoping for something similar in Portugal with you lot.

So I'm a JEE Dropper (got only 80%ile this time) and took admission in Allen of my city, Earlier I used to study online, but now I switched to offline, My friends suggested me to stay away from friendship with backbenchers as it will affect me badly, so I first didn't make any friends. I'm not that bad at studies , but these two boys of my class are exceptionally good (one scored 92 and other scored 94%ile in mains still took drop) , now we three and friends and answer the most of questions in class but, when teacher gives some question they start solving too fast and l'm not able too match their speed and approach, one one them even makes fun of me sometimes ( by saying "koi nhi hota h", "tu genius h") which makes me feel low and bad. I'm feeling I'm getting behind as they sit next to me and solve most of questions faster than me . What should I do?

Let me tell you about the Elsewilds.
HISTORY
The Elsewilds is as old as creation and lies at the center of the universe, connecting all things—the sun, the moon, and even dreams like spokes on a wheel. It was once unreachable, but then eons ago the gossamer engines were created, which act as a bridge between our world, called the firmament, and the Elsewilds.
The gossamer are myriad, and float endlessly through space, unattended and in disrepair. They lay dormant, only activated through the collective dreams of sentient species. One such gossamer found its way to a young star, and caught up in a swirling storm of primordial dust, it fell into orbit around a small molten planet. As the planet cooled, dust settled around the gossamer and it became the moon, and the planet became the Earth.
“Our word for created is the same as inherited. All creation exists on already well-laid foundation.” -the Authors
At the bottom of a primitive ocean, a colossal being known only as the First to Dream awoke the gossamer. It saw the potential in harnessing the power leeched from the gossamer, and it learned its secrets. It was immortal, and consumed every member of its species until only it remained. Then it sought to remake the world. It started by creating the Malgarii, a race of bureaucratic, scheming humanoid cephalopods. They had the power to sing to stone, moving matter while erupting in patterns of bioluminescence. The Malgarii helped direct the creation of the humans, but the first attempts were failures. So, the Malgarii made the Simulacra to aid them. These were synthetic beings who represented humanity perfected, and acted as teachers and guides to the genetic development of humans.
Thousands of year later, Kur was born. He was the first human to be called a sleepwaker. Just as his dreams were fuel for the gossamer, he could pull power through the gossamer from the Elsewilds. He freed the humans enslaved by the First to Dream, then he banished the cruel and spiteful Malgarii to the center of the moon. Gathering the captured creature, his own tribe, and the Simulacra, Kur entered into the Elsewilds and closed the gate behind him. There he locked away the First to Dream in an impenetrable fortress.
MAGIC
Other humans, albeit rare, have also been sleepwakers. Many of them have dream walked through the gossamer to the Elsewilds, but few return. In order to do so, they must first conjure an animus—a spirit guide made from a physical object. The object must be a gift, and will manifest as a living embodiment of that object. Common animus might be coins or jewelry, taking the forms of mighty beasts or enigmatic human figures.
The Canon Corpus is the power they wield. These are abilities drawn from the first things every child feels when born. Sleepwakers will sometimes have a fraction of their ability while in the firmament, but can realize its full potential when in the Elsewilds.
Mind—also known as nightmare magic. The bearer can read minds and even command those around them. Its color is blue. When used, the temperature will drop and snow may appear in the air. When overused its drawback is mental decline and eventual insanity. It is powered by fear. This magic is described as dark and cold.
Body—also known as life magic. The bearer can imbue themselves with added strength and endurance and even heal wounds. The color is green. When used, condensation will appear on nearby objects and it may even begin to rain. Its drawback is physical exhaustion to the point of passing out or even coma and death. It is powered by hope. This magic is described as bright and cold.
Soul—also known as hate magic. The bearer can pull or repel objects. The color is red. When used, things become electrically charged and lightning may even appear. The drawback is added density of the wielder and possibly even turning into a black hole. It is powered by anger. This magic is described as dark and hot.
GEOGRAPHY
The Elsewilds is shaped by those who dream near the gossamer engines. In a cold, empty universe, humanity has near total influence on it—albeit unknowingly. It is covered in deciduous forests, deserts of red rock, tropical jungles, and rolling prairies. Since the defeat of the King of Nightmares, there is little farming, and much of the world has been reclaimed by wilderness. Since his defeat, a power struggle and sectarian violence has erupted, and much of the world is in ruins.
Beneath the ground is the ichor. This is the fluid that flows beneath the surface of the world. It is god blood. It can be consumed for supernatural and mind-bending effects. It appears in pools across the Elsewilds. For some cultures, it is the sole source of food.
A great sea called the Deadwater separates two sides of a great continent. There is no life in the Deadwater, and rather than salt, this sea is sweet, permeated with a high percentage of sugar in the water.
“We are all lost, drowning in these strange waters, drifting beneath unknown constellations.” -Finian the Malgarii
The Great Library—known as the temple of all knowledge, this is an enormous city. Books are in such enormous supply that they’ve become building material, used in place of bricks for many structures. This is home to the University, the seat of all learning, and lorded over by the Host of Many, one of the few alien creatures that exists within the Elsewilds alongside the descendent of the early humans lead by Kur. The Host of Many is an insectoid parasite that can only survive on a human host.
The Mechalith—a colossal smooth, featureless black pillar that floats just meters above the surface. This is home to the Simulacra. The seat of power is called the Discord, a tribunal of technocrats that rule a caste system, where the higher classes cannibalize parts from the lower classes. Effectively immortal, they lack the ability to repair themselves, and must take working parts to survive.
“You have made a powerful enemy.”
“Is that what you think you are?”
“You think me not your enemy?”
“…powerful.”
-Patriarch Oblivion to August Fish
Underhome—this is where the Duegar live. These are primitive humans, one of the first failed experiments by the Malgarii, who fled into the Elsewilds before they were exterminated on Earth. They are squat, stocky people, often with beards, who have a low intelligence. But, they overcome that limitation with what they call ancestral memory, where they take naturally to basic tasks without training. They are a monarchy ruled by a king, with a powerful group of witches acting as political and social advisors known as the Volga.
“Their intelligence is shaped like their bodies, wide but with a low ceiling. You humans are gifted with only potential—you can become so brilliant, but also remain so stupid. That is the cosmic justice of free will.” -Jack of Lanterns
The Circus—home of the bogie. Once ruled by the Goblin King and his sons called the Seven Jacks, it has fallen to total anarchy. After the Goblin King was slain, his eldest, the Jack of Cats, usurped power and murdered or exiled the other Jacks. The youngest, the Jack of Lanterns, roams in exile trying to find allies to reclaim his birthright and take his place as king. There is no farming, no order, and no hope in the Circus. The ravenous bogie rely on the soup to survive, a vast network of hot springs that flow just under the surface. They routinely kidnap and steal whatever they can to add to the soup, dropping in victims to be boiled alive, and drinking from it while singing and dancing is extravagant revelries.
“Beef, broth, brine! Anything edible! Anything edible! Beef, broth, brine!” -Bogie
The Cabaret—a paradise filled with beautiful men and women in white togas. They live a life of leisure eating grapes and perusing physical pleasures. These people are known for their cloudy eyes and vacant stares. Mostly secluded, they are happy to take in other people they deem worthy of their affections. Those who join the Cabaret never leave. The bogie and other creatures fear this place.
The Wrestle—the great forest, the deep dark woods, and the never ending sea of trees. This is where the fae reside. They are small insects, like grasshoppers and praying mantis, who wear crowns of twisting fungus that bloom into mushrooms who attack in great swarms. They may even lift their adversaries into the air and take them away to the center of the Wrestle to meet the King of Green, an unknown entity that rules over them.
The Terminus—a hole the size of a city. Carved from the earth, its depths are infinite. Great waterfalls pour in from every side, disappearing into a roaring white mist. Suspended at its center by massive chains is the Stronghold. This is where the First to Dream is imprisoned and watched over by The King of Nightmares, the strongest sleepwaker in all the Elsewilds. He has not left the stronghold in years, since his defeat, and some say that he’s nothing more than a rotting corpse alone in an empty castle.
Thanks for reading! I’d love any feedback and I’ll answer any questions. If people like this, I have a whole lot more I can share.

The recent announcement of Cash App's shutdown has taken the financial technology world by surprise. Cash App, a pioneering mobile payment service developed by Block, Inc. (formerly Square, Inc.), has been a cornerstone of peer-to-peer financial transactions since its inception in 2013. Known for its user-friendly interface and convenience, Cash App amassed a massive user base over the years. The decision to close down this popular service raises numerous questions about the reasons behind the move and its broader implications for users and the fintech industry.
Understanding the Shutdown
Several factors have contributed to the decision to shut down Cash App. One primary reason is the intense competition in the mobile payment sector. Companies like Venmo, PayPal, and Zelle have significantly expanded their offerings, making it difficult for Cash App to maintain its competitive edge. These competitors have not only matched but also exceeded the features and services provided by Cash App, attracting a substantial number of users.
Regulatory challenges also played a significant role in the decision. The financial technology sector is under increasing scrutiny from regulators worldwide, aiming to prevent fraud, money laundering, and ensure consumer protection. Compliance with these ever-tightening regulations requires significant resources and operational adjustments, which might have posed a considerable burden on Cash App.
Another critical factor is Block, Inc.'s strategic shift towards blockchain and cryptocurrency. The company has shown a growing interest in developing and expanding its cryptocurrency-related services, which they believe represent the future of digital finance. Allocating resources to these emerging technologies may have necessitated the difficult decision to phase out Cash App.
Impact on Users
The Cash App shutdown will undoubtedly disrupt the lives of millions of users who have integrated the app into their daily financial activities. Users will need to transition their funds and scheduled transactions to alternative platforms, which could be a cumbersome process. Ensuring that all pending transactions are completed and balances are transferred securely will be a top priority for users during this transition period.
For small businesses that relied on Cash App for seamless transactions, the shutdown means finding and adapting to new payment processors. This could involve changes in transaction fees, the need to reconfigure payment setups, and possible disruptions in cash flow. Small businesses may face challenges in maintaining the same level of convenience and customer satisfaction during this transition.
Broader Implications for the Fintech Industry
Cash App's shut down reflects the dynamic and often volatile nature of the fintech industry. It underscores the necessity for continuous innovation and adaptation in a highly competitive market. For existing players, this development could represent an opportunity to capture Cash App's user base, potentially intensifying competition and driving further innovation in mobile payment solutions.
This event also hints at a broader trend of consolidation within the industry. Smaller fintech firms might struggle to keep pace with regulatory demands and competitive pressures, leading to more mergers, acquisitions, and potential shutdowns. This consolidation could result in a market dominated by a few large players, impacting consumer choice and market diversity.
The Future of Digital Payments
Despite the shutdown of Cash App, the future of digital payments remains bright. Blockchain and cryptocurrency technologies are emerging as significant forces in the financial technology landscape. Block, Inc.'s pivot towards these areas highlights a belief in their potential to revolutionize financial services by offering more secure, efficient, and innovative solutions.
In conclusion, while the Cash App Shut Down marks the end of an era for its users, it also signifies a period of transition and potential growth for the fintech industry. Users and businesses will adapt to new platforms, and the industry will continue to evolve, driven by technological advancements and changing consumer needs. The legacy of Cash App will be remembered as a catalyst in the digital payment revolution, paving the way for the next generation of financial technologies.

Hi Wreddit! Welcome to /SquaredCircle's Daily Discussion Thread as presented by your favorite and totally sentient moderator.
Did you see a match yesterday that you really liked? Want a suggestion of a random PPV to watch on the network? Really love a local indie talent and want to shout them out? Are you out of the loop on a promotion and need to get caught up? Have questions about streaming services or your first time seeing wrestling live? Want to get something off your chest? Want to talk about something else entirely?
This is the thread for that and so much more. Free discussion here (all rules still apply).
Please be sure to read the updated rules Check out all of our previous AMA's
Reminder, this thread WILL contain spoilers. We don't expect you to spoiler mark anything wrestling related in this thread, however we do ask if you reference something outside of wrestling that is a spoiler, you mark that.

hi community members, i have a question that has been on my mind since sometime. I was a part of a research lab that has a very good research output ( high IF publications ) and funded by the top 3 US universities for 6 months during my medical school. Now the credits for this work will be awarded sometime next year as the project is still in progress. How can i potentially mention and use this experience on my 2025 match eras cv as there is no publication from this yet? I can request a letter of participation but im not sure where it will be placed on the application portal? Thanks for your help guys!

“This is Jay, Moody, and Kai, and today we are searching for Makaro House.”
The video was shot in shaky cam, the footage hard to watch without getting a little seasick. Officer Wiley, Detective Wiley now, had seen a lot in his time on the force, but a double homicide perpetrated by this fourteen-year-old kid in front of him was something he hoped he would never see. A double homicide, and carried out against two of his best friends, at that. The two kids in question, Marshal Moody and Kai Dillon, had been friends with Jason Weeks since elementary school, and there had never been any reports of violence or any other alarming behavior, at least none reported to the police. The boys had operated a YouTube channel, JMK Occult, for the last two years, and while their content was pretty typical for kids online, they had been uploading steadily every week since their first video about a strange deer in the North Woods around Cadderly.
Hell, Wiley even watched their stuff sometimes when he was bored.
People in the community knew them, and this was out of character for any of them.
Wiley paused the video, the three boys blundering through the South Woods and chattering like a pack of squirrels, and looked at Jason.
Jason, Jay to his friends, looked like he had aged a decade. He had a gaunt look usually reserved for soldiers who come back from war. His hair had been long and blonde for as long as anyone had known him, but the kid sitting here now was as bald as an egg and his scalp looked scoured instead of shaved. The shirt he had been wearing in the video was gone. He was still wearing the ring of it around his neck, the stretched fabric like a collar, and the jeans he wore were stained and ragged in places that looked fresh. He'd been found with no shoes or socks, but he was wearing the orange flip-flops of a jail resident now.
Wiley knew his parents wanted to bail him out, but he wasn't sure if the judge was going to extend him bail or not, given the nature of his crime.
The way those kids had been ripped apart was something that would haunt him for a long time.
“So, Jason, Officer Russel tells me that someone picked you up beside the road and you told them that your friends were dead and that you had killed them. Is that true?”
Jason nodded, not speaking a word as he continued to stare at the wall.
The woman in question was Darla Hughes, a mother of three who had stopped when she saw a young teenage boy walking on the side of the road in the state he was currently in. Stories of kidnapping and kids held in basements for months while God knew what happened to them were clear in the public consciousness. Darla thought she had found some kid who had escaped his situation, and when she stopped to help him, she said the poor lamb had said eight words and then nothing else.
“He said, my friends are dead, and I killed them.”
They had found the kids in a clearing in the woods about three miles in, a site he was familiar with.
How many times had he and his friends gone looking for the Makaro House?
Everyone in Cadderly knew about Makaro House, and most people's childhoods had been spent looking for it. John Makaro, a prominent figure in Cadderly's history, had been a prominent importer and exporter in England. He had come to America before the Revolutionary War to try to set up a similar business here, and Cadderly had been a large enough port to satisfy his needs without being so big that a new face would be lost. He established a manor in the South Woods, despite being told that it was Indian Land, and the bill of sale did very little to dispatch the native tribe that was living there. He survived two raids by the natives somehow, but his wife and daughter were not so lucky the second time. As such, he rallied a mob of townspeople to go into the woods and help him flush out the natives who were living there. The raid took weeks, but by the end, they had killed or scattered every member of the tribe that lived there.
Satisfied, Mr. Makaro built his lavish estates there, but strange things surrounded it from the first. Workers went missing, people reported strange lights and sounds after dark, and a shriveled figure in skins and feathers could be seen lurking after moonrise. Animals on the property acted strangely, and sometimes people found wolves or bears on the grounds. Usually, they were in a rage, but sometimes they simply fled as if they had been drawn there and weren't sure what to do now that they were. Once the house was finished, John Makaro had a hard time keeping staff. None of the hands he had hired to keep his livestock would stay more than a week, and they all refused to stay on the property after dark. His servants would likewise disappear suddenly, and none of them would stay at night besides his butler, who had been with him for years. People said that Mr. Makaro talked about hearing chanting in the house and seeing strange shadows, and when even his butler disappeared one evening, John locked the doors and stayed in the house alone for a long time. People who came to see him said he could be seen wandering the halls like a ghost, calling out for people only he could see.
When his mansion was seen in full blaze one night, those who were first on the scene said they saw a lone man silhouetted in the flames, his feathers and skins on full display.
He disappeared when they got close, but he had been seen by many in the years to come.
“What did you see out there, Jason?”
Jason continued to stare at the wall.
“I wanna help you, kid, but you have to help yourself first.”
He couldn't help but glance down at the kid's fingers as he left them splayed on that table like sleeping spiders. The nails were dirty, the beds crusty with something like blood, and several of them were torn and ragged. There was grime around his mouth too, and Wiley would have bet his next paycheck that it wasn't a Kool-aid ring. It looked like mud or paint, but it was probably blood.
Jason remained silent as the grave.
“Jason, none of us believe that you killed your friends. You,”
“You're wrong,”
Wiley had been fiddling with the remote, trying not to look at the kid's hands, but when he spoke, he looked up. Jason was still staring at the wall, but his head was shaking as his teeth chattered together. The kid looked like he was staring into the mouth of hell instead of the creme-colored wall of the interrogation room. Wiley almost didn't want to ask him what he had seen, but he needed to know. He needed to know how this kid had killed two other kids, one of whom was bigger than him by a head and sixty pounds.
“Would you like to elaborate?” Wiley asked.
He didn't think the kid would for a minute, but finally, he just reached slowly and pushed play on the remote. He kept looking at Wiley like he thought he might slap his hand, but when he let him get all the way across the table unsmacked, he relaxed a little. The video went on as they walked through the woods, joking and laughing as the woods lived their quiet existence around them.
“We went in at eight, just after Kai's mom went to work. She wouldn't have liked us going into the South Woods, but we wanted to investigate Makaro House. We wanted to do it for our first episode, but Moody said it was something we should work up to. The Makaro House was something big, and we needed to be ready for it. Turned out we weren't.”
On the screen, the kids kept walking through the woods, checking their compass and making their way carefully through the thick brush. They were still chattering, talking about what they might find when they got there, and whether they would find the clearing or see the mysterious mansion that people talked about sometimes. Legend said that a ghostly manor appeared in the clearing sometimes, the ghost of the house and that people who went inside were never seen again. Wiley didn't believe that, but as a kid, he had to admit that the clearing where the house had sat was spooky. All the wood had long ago rotted, the stones taken away for use in other things, but the land just felt wrong. Wiley had never been there after dark, but people claimed to hear footsteps and see things after the sun went down.
Wiley pushed fast forward on the tape and watched as the kids plodded on and on.
Jason wished that he could have sped through that part of the trip.
They had set out at eight, waving to Kai's mom as she pulled out of the driveway. The packs had been pulled out of the garage after she was down the road a piece, and the three set out for the woods. They knew the rough direction of the Makaro House, but no one really came upon it in the same way. Danny Foster had said it was a three-mile walk from the forest's edge to the property, but Jamie had claimed that he and his friends had walked for what seemed like hours.
“When we found it, though,” he said, “we found the house instead of an empty lot. We kept daring each other to go in, but we left when someone lit a fire on the grounds.”
Jason and his friends were hoping to find the house instead of the lot, and as their walk turned into a hike, Kai stopped and looked at the compass.
“We should have gotten there by now.”
Moody chuckled, “Maybe we're going in the wrong direction.”
“Can't be,” Kai protested, “The directions are to go south into the south woods for three miles. Then you'll come to the clearing where Makaro House once sat.”
Jason didn't want to jinx it, but at the time he thought that boded well for them finding the house.
They kept walking, Kai good for an endless stream of conversation, and as the sun began to set, Jason found he was out of breath. His tongue felt like leather as it stuck to the roof of his mouth, and the lunch they had brought had been eaten hours ago. Moody had argued that they should turn around and head back, but Jason had finally vocalized that this could mean they were going to find the house instead of an empty lot.
He was hopeful right until they got what they wanted
When the sun began to go down, Wiley knit his brows together.
“I thought you and your friends were only in the woods for a few hours?”
Jason shook his head slowly, “We were, and we weren't. The time on the camera says we walked for eight hours before I turned it off, but when I got picked up by the side of the road, it was barely noon.”
Wiley pursed his lips, “How is that possible?”
The video cut out, the battery in the camera having been exhausted, and Jason nodded at the screen.
“Those batteries have a max life of three hours. Dad said it was the best battery they had when he ordered it for me, and it was pretty expensive. There's no way one of those batteries could have recorded for eight hours, but it did.”
The recording came back on, and Wiley was shocked to see that they were standing on the lawn of an old Gothic mansion. The sun setting behind the house made a perfect backdrop for the shot, and the boys were oooing and ahhing appreciatively. None of them seemed to believe what they were seeing, the whole thing a little otherworldly, and there seemed to be some argument about who was going to approach the house first.
“Is that,” Wiley stopped to wet his lips,” it can't be. The Makaro House burned down hundreds of years ago.”
“But there it is,” Jason said, his eyes still fixed on the wall, “in all its glory.”
And oh, what glory there had been in it.
Moody had gawped at the house as he had never seen one before.
“No way, there is no way.”
“That's impossible,” Kai breathed, “that house burned to the ground before our father's fathers were even thought of.”
“But there it is,” Jason said, mirroring his later statement, though he could not know it, “in all its glory.”
As the sun set behind it, Jason thought it looked even spookier than it would at night. The mansion rose like an obelisk towards the sky, its towered roofs looking naked without flags or pinions. The boys stood at the edge, trying to shame or bluster one of the others into going there first, but in the end, Jason took the first step. The others looked surprised at his boldness, but they followed closely after, not wanting to be thought less of.
Jason expected the house to disintegrate as he approached, an illusion or a trick of the light, but as his foot came to rest on the boards of the old house, he felt their solidity and continued to climb.
When the doors opened for them, the broad double doors swinging jauntily on their hinges, the three boys pulled back as they prepared to run.
The camera captured their indecision, the portal yawning wide as it waited to receive them, and Jason seemed to surprise even himself as he came forward to investigate it.
“Jason, What if it's a trap?”
“This whole place shouldn't exist, and if you think I'm going to pass up the chance to explore it, you're wrong."
Jason went in, pausing just inside the doors as if waiting for them to crash shut.
When they didn't, Moody followed him and Kai brought up the rear.
Makaro House lived up to its Gothic exterior, the inside full of soft dark velvet and antique furniture. There was a fire burning in the hearth inside the sitting room, tables spread with books in the library, and as they came up the long hall that led towards what was undoubtedly a dining room, Jason began to smell something. It was something like a stew or maybe a roast, and the smell of meat brought them to the dining room. A long table sat in the middle, eight chairs on each side of it, and at the end sat a wrinkled old man eating soup from a bowl.
It was hard to tell before they had gotten close, but the old man looked like he might be Native American. He was dressed in hides, feathers adorning his head and necklace, and he wore a beaded necklace with bones and claws on it. He looked up as they approached, glowering at them evenly, before returning to his meal. He ignored the boys, all three standing back apprehensively before Jason found the courage to speak.
“Excuse me, sir. Is this your house?”
The spoon froze on the way to his mouth, and the old man looked like he'd been slapped.
“My house?” he asked, his voice sounding thin and whispery, “No, child, but it was paid for by my people. We paid with our blood, we paid with our lives, and in the end, the cost was high. I took some of that cost from the previous owner of this home, and now it's only me who lives here.”
Kai made an uncomfortable noise in his throat, like a dog trying to tell its owner that something wasn't safe, and Jason understood the feeling.
“Well, we'll leave you to it then. We didn't mean to,”
“Leave?” the old man said, sounding amused, “oh no. No one leaves Makaro House until they've played the game. It was always a way for our warriors to test their metal, and I have so longed to see it played again. Will you join me? If not, I'm afraid you might find it quite hard to leave.”
Moody took a step back, and Jason heard his heavy footsteps on the carpet as he tried to retreat.
“What's the game?” Jason asked, figuring they could outrun this old coyote if it came down to it.
Jason would wonder why he had thought of him that way, but he didn't have time to ponder it then.
“Choose your piece from my necklace,” the old man said, slipping it off and laying it on the table, “Claw, Talon, or Fang.”
“Then what?” Moody asked, Kai moving behind him as if afraid to come too close.
“Then we start the game.” the old man said, smiling toothily.
For an old man, he certainly had a lot of sharp teeth.
“Okay,” Moody said, walking forward as Kai followed in his wake, “I choose claw.”
“Talon,” said Kai, reaching out to touch it.
“Fang,” said Jason, and as he put his hand out, he felt a sudden, violent shifting in his guts.
He was shrinking, the world moving rapidly all around him. He was smaller, but also more than he was, and he was trapped. His legs scrabbled at the thing that held him, and he tore it to pieces as he freed himself. He heard a loud roar and something big rose up before him. The bear was massive, ragged bits of something hanging from him, and Jason was afraid that he would kill him before he could get fully free of his snare. Something screeched then, flying at the bear's face and attacking him. Jason saw blood run down the snout of the bear, and as it tried to get the bird, a large hawk, off its face, Jason circled and looked for an opening. He was low, on all fours, and he could smell the hot blood as it coursed down the bear's muzzle. Blood and meat and fear and desire mingled in him, and as something laughed, he turned and saw a large coyote sitting at the table. Its grin was huge, its snout longer than any snout had a right to be, and he was laughing in a strange half-animal/half-man way.
The hawk suddenly fell before Jason, twitching and gasping as it died, and he knew the time to strike was now.
Jason leaped on the bear, its arms trying to crush him but not able to find purchase. He sank his teeth into the bear's throat, and for a moment he was afraid he wouldn't make it through all that thick fur. The bear tried to bring its claws to bear, but as the wolf worried at it with its fangs, he was rewarded with a mouth full of hot blood. The bear kept trying to rake him with its claws, but its movements were becoming less coordinated. When it fell, the whole room shook with the sound of its thunder, and Jason rolled off it as it lay still.
“Bravo, bravo,” cried the coyote, clapping its paws together in celebration, “Well fought, young wolf, well fought.”
Jason took a step towards him, but suddenly he was falling. It was as if a whirlpool had opened up beneath him and he was being sucked into it. Jason thrashed and snarled, trying to get his balance, but he was powerless against the pull as it flung him down and into the depths of some strange and terrible abyss.
He came to in the empty clearing where the house had been, and that was where he found his friends.
Wiley rewound the tape, not quite sure what to make of this.
“So this strange man offered to play a game, and then he changed you three into animals?”
Jason nodded, looking like one of those birds that dip into a glass of water, “I picked Fang, so I was the wolf. The game wasn't fair, we didn't know what we were doing, but I still killed Moody. I killed both of them because I had been the one to approach the house first. I killed them when I agreed to play the game. It's my fault, I'm a murderer.”
Wiley wasn't so sure, but it was hard to argue with the evidence. The video showed Jason dropping the camera and then suddenly there was a lot of snarling and screeching. Wiley heard the animals fighting, but he heard something else too. Something was laughing, really having a good belly chuckle, and it sounded like a hyena. He couldn't see it, it was all lost amongst the carpet, but suddenly that carpet had turned into grass, and the camera was lying outside in the midday sun. Someone got up, someone sobbed and moaned out in negation, and then they walked away.
That was where the video ended.
In the end, Jason was sent for psychiatric evaluation and the whole thing was chalked up to a drug-induced episode. Jason and his friends were drugged by an old man in the woods and while under the influence of an unknown substance, a substance that didn't show up on any toxicology screening, they killed each other. Blood was found on Jason, blood belonging to Marshall Moody, but blood from the fingernails of Moody was determined to belong to Kai Dillon, which really helped push the narrative that Detective Wiley was working with. He told the press to report an old man in the woods who was drugging people and pushed the stranger danger talks a little harder than usual that year on school visits.
After that day, the tape he took from Jason Weeks was never seen again, but Wiley believed that the boys had run up against something they weren't prepared for. When John Makaro had led the extermination of the Native People that dwelt on his land, he had angered something he wasn't prepared for either. Wiley's grandmother had liked to tell stories about Coyote, the trickster god, and how he could be as fierce as he was cunning when he needed to be. Wiley didn't think they would ever find an old man out there in the woods, but he didn't doubt others would find him.
Coyote liked his games, especially when the players were people he saw as interlopers.
Makaro House remained a town legend, and Wiley had little doubt that those foolish enough to enter would be presented with the same game these three boys had been given.
Wiley shuddered to think how the next challenge might go when Coyote needed more amusement.

“This is Jay, Moody, and Kai, and today we are searching for Makaro House.”
The video was shot in shaky cam, the footage hard to watch without getting a little seasick. Officer Wiley, Detective Wiley now, had seen a lot in his time on the force, but a double homicide perpetrated by this fourteen-year-old kid in front of him was something he hoped he would never see. A double homicide, and carried out against two of his best friends, at that. The two kids in question, Marshal Moody and Kai Dillon, had been friends with Jason Weeks since elementary school, and there had never been any reports of violence or any other alarming behavior, at least none reported to the police. The boys had operated a YouTube channel, JMK Occult, for the last two years, and while their content was pretty typical for kids online, they had been uploading steadily every week since their first video about a strange deer in the North Woods around Cadderly.
Hell, Wiley even watched their stuff sometimes when he was bored.
People in the community knew them, and this was out of character for any of them.
Wiley paused the video, the three boys blundering through the South Woods and chattering like a pack of squirrels, and looked at Jason.
Jason, Jay to his friends, looked like he had aged a decade. He had a gaunt look usually reserved for soldiers who come back from war. His hair had been long and blonde for as long as anyone had known him, but the kid sitting here now was as bald as an egg and his scalp looked scoured instead of shaved. The shirt he had been wearing in the video was gone. He was still wearing the ring of it around his neck, the stretched fabric like a collar, and the jeans he wore were stained and ragged in places that looked fresh. He'd been found with no shoes or socks, but he was wearing the orange flip-flops of a jail resident now.
Wiley knew his parents wanted to bail him out, but he wasn't sure if the judge was going to extend him bail or not, given the nature of his crime.
The way those kids had been ripped apart was something that would haunt him for a long time.
“So, Jason, Officer Russel tells me that someone picked you up beside the road and you told them that your friends were dead and that you had killed them. Is that true?”
Jason nodded, not speaking a word as he continued to stare at the wall.
The woman in question was Darla Hughes, a mother of three who had stopped when she saw a young teenage boy walking on the side of the road in the state he was currently in. Stories of kidnapping and kids held in basements for months while God knew what happened to them were clear in the public consciousness. Darla thought she had found some kid who had escaped his situation, and when she stopped to help him, she said the poor lamb had said eight words and then nothing else.
“He said, my friends are dead, and I killed them.”
They had found the kids in a clearing in the woods about three miles in, a site he was familiar with.
How many times had he and his friends gone looking for the Makaro House?
Everyone in Cadderly knew about Makaro House, and most people's childhoods had been spent looking for it. John Makaro, a prominent figure in Cadderly's history, had been a prominent importer and exporter in England. He had come to America before the Revolutionary War to try to set up a similar business here, and Cadderly had been a large enough port to satisfy his needs without being so big that a new face would be lost. He established a manor in the South Woods, despite being told that it was Indian Land, and the bill of sale did very little to dispatch the native tribe that was living there. He survived two raids by the natives somehow, but his wife and daughter were not so lucky the second time. As such, he rallied a mob of townspeople to go into the woods and help him flush out the natives who were living there. The raid took weeks, but by the end, they had killed or scattered every member of the tribe that lived there.
Satisfied, Mr. Makaro built his lavish estates there, but strange things surrounded it from the first. Workers went missing, people reported strange lights and sounds after dark, and a shriveled figure in skins and feathers could be seen lurking after moonrise. Animals on the property acted strangely, and sometimes people found wolves or bears on the grounds. Usually, they were in a rage, but sometimes they simply fled as if they had been drawn there and weren't sure what to do now that they were. Once the house was finished, John Makaro had a hard time keeping staff. None of the hands he had hired to keep his livestock would stay more than a week, and they all refused to stay on the property after dark. His servants would likewise disappear suddenly, and none of them would stay at night besides his butler, who had been with him for years. People said that Mr. Makaro talked about hearing chanting in the house and seeing strange shadows, and when even his butler disappeared one evening, John locked the doors and stayed in the house alone for a long time. People who came to see him said he could be seen wandering the halls like a ghost, calling out for people only he could see.
When his mansion was seen in full blaze one night, those who were first on the scene said they saw a lone man silhouetted in the flames, his feathers and skins on full display.
He disappeared when they got close, but he had been seen by many in the years to come.
“What did you see out there, Jason?”
Jason continued to stare at the wall.
“I wanna help you, kid, but you have to help yourself first.”
He couldn't help but glance down at the kid's fingers as he left them splayed on that table like sleeping spiders. The nails were dirty, the beds crusty with something like blood, and several of them were torn and ragged. There was grime around his mouth too, and Wiley would have bet his next paycheck that it wasn't a Kool-aid ring. It looked like mud or paint, but it was probably blood.
Jason remained silent as the grave.
“Jason, none of us believe that you killed your friends. You,”
“You're wrong,”
Wiley had been fiddling with the remote, trying not to look at the kid's hands, but when he spoke, he looked up. Jason was still staring at the wall, but his head was shaking as his teeth chattered together. The kid looked like he was staring into the mouth of hell instead of the creme-colored wall of the interrogation room. Wiley almost didn't want to ask him what he had seen, but he needed to know. He needed to know how this kid had killed two other kids, one of whom was bigger than him by a head and sixty pounds.
“Would you like to elaborate?” Wiley asked.
He didn't think the kid would for a minute, but finally, he just reached slowly and pushed play on the remote. He kept looking at Wiley like he thought he might slap his hand, but when he let him get all the way across the table unsmacked, he relaxed a little. The video went on as they walked through the woods, joking and laughing as the woods lived their quiet existence around them.
“We went in at eight, just after Kai's mom went to work. She wouldn't have liked us going into the South Woods, but we wanted to investigate Makaro House. We wanted to do it for our first episode, but Moody said it was something we should work up to. The Makaro House was something big, and we needed to be ready for it. Turned out we weren't.”
On the screen, the kids kept walking through the woods, checking their compass and making their way carefully through the thick brush. They were still chattering, talking about what they might find when they got there, and whether they would find the clearing or see the mysterious mansion that people talked about sometimes. Legend said that a ghostly manor appeared in the clearing sometimes, the ghost of the house and that people who went inside were never seen again. Wiley didn't believe that, but as a kid, he had to admit that the clearing where the house had sat was spooky. All the wood had long ago rotted, the stones taken away for use in other things, but the land just felt wrong. Wiley had never been there after dark, but people claimed to hear footsteps and see things after the sun went down.
Wiley pushed fast forward on the tape and watched as the kids plodded on and on.
Jason wished that he could have sped through that part of the trip.
They had set out at eight, waving to Kai's mom as she pulled out of the driveway. The packs had been pulled out of the garage after she was down the road a piece, and the three set out for the woods. They knew the rough direction of the Makaro House, but no one really came upon it in the same way. Danny Foster had said it was a three-mile walk from the forest's edge to the property, but Jamie had claimed that he and his friends had walked for what seemed like hours.
“When we found it, though,” he said, “we found the house instead of an empty lot. We kept daring each other to go in, but we left when someone lit a fire on the grounds.”
Jason and his friends were hoping to find the house instead of the lot, and as their walk turned into a hike, Kai stopped and looked at the compass.
“We should have gotten there by now.”
Moody chuckled, “Maybe we're going in the wrong direction.”
“Can't be,” Kai protested, “The directions are to go south into the south woods for three miles. Then you'll come to the clearing where Makaro House once sat.”
Jason didn't want to jinx it, but at the time he thought that boded well for them finding the house.
They kept walking, Kai good for an endless stream of conversation, and as the sun began to set, Jason found he was out of breath. His tongue felt like leather as it stuck to the roof of his mouth, and the lunch they had brought had been eaten hours ago. Moody had argued that they should turn around and head back, but Jason had finally vocalized that this could mean they were going to find the house instead of an empty lot.
He was hopeful right until they got what they wanted
When the sun began to go down, Wiley knit his brows together.
“I thought you and your friends were only in the woods for a few hours?”
Jason shook his head slowly, “We were, and we weren't. The time on the camera says we walked for eight hours before I turned it off, but when I got picked up by the side of the road, it was barely noon.”
Wiley pursed his lips, “How is that possible?”
The video cut out, the battery in the camera having been exhausted, and Jason nodded at the screen.
“Those batteries have a max life of three hours. Dad said it was the best battery they had when he ordered it for me, and it was pretty expensive. There's no way one of those batteries could have recorded for eight hours, but it did.”
The recording came back on, and Wiley was shocked to see that they were standing on the lawn of an old Gothic mansion. The sun setting behind the house made a perfect backdrop for the shot, and the boys were oooing and ahhing appreciatively. None of them seemed to believe what they were seeing, the whole thing a little otherworldly, and there seemed to be some argument about who was going to approach the house first.
“Is that,” Wiley stopped to wet his lips,” it can't be. The Makaro House burned down hundreds of years ago.”
“But there it is,” Jason said, his eyes still fixed on the wall, “in all its glory.”
And oh, what glory there had been in it.
Moody had gawped at the house as he had never seen one before.
“No way, there is no way.”
“That's impossible,” Kai breathed, “that house burned to the ground before our father's fathers were even thought of.”
“But there it is,” Jason said, mirroring his later statement, though he could not know it, “in all its glory.”
As the sun set behind it, Jason thought it looked even spookier than it would at night. The mansion rose like an obelisk towards the sky, its towered roofs looking naked without flags or pinions. The boys stood at the edge, trying to shame or bluster one of the others into going there first, but in the end, Jason took the first step. The others looked surprised at his boldness, but they followed closely after, not wanting to be thought less of.
Jason expected the house to disintegrate as he approached, an illusion or a trick of the light, but as his foot came to rest on the boards of the old house, he felt their solidity and continued to climb.
When the doors opened for them, the broad double doors swinging jauntily on their hinges, the three boys pulled back as they prepared to run.
The camera captured their indecision, the portal yawning wide as it waited to receive them, and Jason seemed to surprise even himself as he came forward to investigate it.
“Jason, What if it's a trap?”
“This whole place shouldn't exist, and if you think I'm going to pass up the chance to explore it, you're wrong."
Jason went in, pausing just inside the doors as if waiting for them to crash shut.
When they didn't, Moody followed him and Kai brought up the rear.
Makaro House lived up to its Gothic exterior, the inside full of soft dark velvet and antique furniture. There was a fire burning in the hearth inside the sitting room, tables spread with books in the library, and as they came up the long hall that led towards what was undoubtedly a dining room, Jason began to smell something. It was something like a stew or maybe a roast, and the smell of meat brought them to the dining room. A long table sat in the middle, eight chairs on each side of it, and at the end sat a wrinkled old man eating soup from a bowl.
It was hard to tell before they had gotten close, but the old man looked like he might be Native American. He was dressed in hides, feathers adorning his head and necklace, and he wore a beaded necklace with bones and claws on it. He looked up as they approached, glowering at them evenly, before returning to his meal. He ignored the boys, all three standing back apprehensively before Jason found the courage to speak.
“Excuse me, sir. Is this your house?”
The spoon froze on the way to his mouth, and the old man looked like he'd been slapped.
“My house?” he asked, his voice sounding thin and whispery, “No, child, but it was paid for by my people. We paid with our blood, we paid with our lives, and in the end, the cost was high. I took some of that cost from the previous owner of this home, and now it's only me who lives here.”
Kai made an uncomfortable noise in his throat, like a dog trying to tell its owner that something wasn't safe, and Jason understood the feeling.
“Well, we'll leave you to it then. We didn't mean to,”
“Leave?” the old man said, sounding amused, “oh no. No one leaves Makaro House until they've played the game. It was always a way for our warriors to test their metal, and I have so longed to see it played again. Will you join me? If not, I'm afraid you might find it quite hard to leave.”
Moody took a step back, and Jason heard his heavy footsteps on the carpet as he tried to retreat.
“What's the game?” Jason asked, figuring they could outrun this old coyote if it came down to it.
Jason would wonder why he had thought of him that way, but he didn't have time to ponder it then.
“Choose your piece from my necklace,” the old man said, slipping it off and laying it on the table, “Claw, Talon, or Fang.”
“Then what?” Moody asked, Kai moving behind him as if afraid to come too close.
“Then we start the game.” the old man said, smiling toothily.
For an old man, he certainly had a lot of sharp teeth.
“Okay,” Moody said, walking forward as Kai followed in his wake, “I choose claw.”
“Talon,” said Kai, reaching out to touch it.
“Fang,” said Jason, and as he put his hand out, he felt a sudden, violent shifting in his guts.
He was shrinking, the world moving rapidly all around him. He was smaller, but also more than he was, and he was trapped. His legs scrabbled at the thing that held him, and he tore it to pieces as he freed himself. He heard a loud roar and something big rose up before him. The bear was massive, ragged bits of something hanging from him, and Jason was afraid that he would kill him before he could get fully free of his snare. Something screeched then, flying at the bear's face and attacking him. Jason saw blood run down the snout of the bear, and as it tried to get the bird, a large hawk, off its face, Jason circled and looked for an opening. He was low, on all fours, and he could smell the hot blood as it coursed down the bear's muzzle. Blood and meat and fear and desire mingled in him, and as something laughed, he turned and saw a large coyote sitting at the table. Its grin was huge, its snout longer than any snout had a right to be, and he was laughing in a strange half-animal/half-man way.
The hawk suddenly fell before Jason, twitching and gasping as it died, and he knew the time to strike was now.
Jason leaped on the bear, its arms trying to crush him but not able to find purchase. He sank his teeth into the bear's throat, and for a moment he was afraid he wouldn't make it through all that thick fur. The bear tried to bring its claws to bear, but as the wolf worried at it with its fangs, he was rewarded with a mouth full of hot blood. The bear kept trying to rake him with its claws, but its movements were becoming less coordinated. When it fell, the whole room shook with the sound of its thunder, and Jason rolled off it as it lay still.
“Bravo, bravo,” cried the coyote, clapping its paws together in celebration, “Well fought, young wolf, well fought.”
Jason took a step towards him, but suddenly he was falling. It was as if a whirlpool had opened up beneath him and he was being sucked into it. Jason thrashed and snarled, trying to get his balance, but he was powerless against the pull as it flung him down and into the depths of some strange and terrible abyss.
He came to in the empty clearing where the house had been, and that was where he found his friends.
Wiley rewound the tape, not quite sure what to make of this.
“So this strange man offered to play a game, and then he changed you three into animals?”
Jason nodded, looking like one of those birds that dip into a glass of water, “I picked Fang, so I was the wolf. The game wasn't fair, we didn't know what we were doing, but I still killed Moody. I killed both of them because I had been the one to approach the house first. I killed them when I agreed to play the game. It's my fault, I'm a murderer.”
Wiley wasn't so sure, but it was hard to argue with the evidence. The video showed Jason dropping the camera and then suddenly there was a lot of snarling and screeching. Wiley heard the animals fighting, but he heard something else too. Something was laughing, really having a good belly chuckle, and it sounded like a hyena. He couldn't see it, it was all lost amongst the carpet, but suddenly that carpet had turned into grass, and the camera was lying outside in the midday sun. Someone got up, someone sobbed and moaned out in negation, and then they walked away.
That was where the video ended.
In the end, Jason was sent for psychiatric evaluation and the whole thing was chalked up to a drug-induced episode. Jason and his friends were drugged by an old man in the woods and while under the influence of an unknown substance, a substance that didn't show up on any toxicology screening, they killed each other. Blood was found on Jason, blood belonging to Marshall Moody, but blood from the fingernails of Moody was determined to belong to Kai Dillon, which really helped push the narrative that Detective Wiley was working with. He told the press to report an old man in the woods who was drugging people and pushed the stranger danger talks a little harder than usual that year on school visits.
After that day, the tape he took from Jason Weeks was never seen again, but Wiley believed that the boys had run up against something they weren't prepared for. When John Makaro had led the extermination of the Native People that dwelt on his land, he had angered something he wasn't prepared for either. Wiley's grandmother had liked to tell stories about Coyote, the trickster god, and how he could be as fierce as he was cunning when he needed to be. Wiley didn't think they would ever find an old man out there in the woods, but he didn't doubt others would find him.
Coyote liked his games, especially when the players were people he saw as interlopers.
Makaro House remained a town legend, and Wiley had little doubt that those foolish enough to enter would be presented with the same game these three boys had been given.
Wiley shuddered to think how the next challenge might go when Coyote needed more amusement.