Dirty twenty questions
bicycling
2008.05.22 03:10 bicycling
Two wheels, or three, sometimes one, but never more than twenty. Interested in riding a bicycle? We welcome bicyclists of all skill levels including those who don't yet own a bike. Ask us your questions or meetup with other redditors in your area for local rides. Happy cycling!
2012.08.25 12:18 saltytroll For All Things Batman Beyond
The definitive subreddit for Batman Beyond. Here you can post costumes, pictures, memes, and more! Anything related to the Batman Beyond series of tv, comics, action figures, and games is allowed here.
2011.01.10 16:34 Anki
A community-run subreddit about the Anki flashcard app and related services. Here, you can discuss anything related to Anki, share resources on Anki or spaced repetition, and reach out or lend a hand with any questions.
2024.05.23 05:02 FeelingBarnacle8871 Chime in on the MOST up to date Information. $FFIE
Reddit User Credit 203PR
(REPOST - LAST ONE GOT TAKEN DOWN) RECAP - Wednesday May 22, 2024. Investors stood their ground and took today’s punches to the chin. Read below 👇🏼
PLEASE DO NOT ATTACK MODS BECAUSE THE LAST POST GOT TAKEN DOWN I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHO TOOK IT DOWN OR WHY
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
STOP Trying to spread the word. We have enough investors here buying and holding the stock. You guys are risking exposing the stock to day traders and quick flippers who will KILL our hard work.
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
submitted by FeelingBarnacle8871 to FFIE [link] [comments]
(REPOST - LAST ONE GOT TAKEN DOWN) RECAP - Wednesday May 22, 2024. Investors stood their ground and took today’s punches to the chin. Read below 👇🏼
PLEASE DO NOT ATTACK MODS BECAUSE THE LAST POST GOT TAKEN DOWN I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHO TOOK IT DOWN OR WHY
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
STOP Trying to spread the word. We have enough investors here buying and holding the stock. You guys are risking exposing the stock to day traders and quick flippers who will KILL our hard work.
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
2024.05.23 05:00 xtremexavier15 TMA 9
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Brick, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott
Episode 9: The Sand Witch Project
"Last time, on Total! Drama! Action! A girl with vision. Vision that took her past everyday thinking. But when the chips were down, and even when the chips came back up again, she was the only one who could rescue them."
"Searching for a cure to the disease that was afflicting her dearest friends, a challenge was won. A cure found."
"But will-" Chris began to munch and crunch on something, though, so the rest of his sentence was completely muddled and unintelligible. The recap footage ended and the shot cut to Chris sitting on the amphitheater bleachers with popcorn at his side.
"Hey, what can I say? Gross disease movies make me crave a little corn!" He picked up his snack and smiled. "But, it's time to put the snacks away, kiddies," he tossed the bag over his shoulder, "because after this totally terrifying episode," the scene cut to a nighttime shot of him walking past a portable toilet near the cast trailers, "there won't be a stomach left unturned!" A horrible growling noise came from inside the toilet that made the host flinch, but he recovered his composure quickly and walked over to a nearby campfire. "Hold on to your buckets. It's time for some Total! Drama! Action!"
(Theme Song)
The episode began with a shot of a soccer ball rolling across the shot and the camera zoomed out to show Jasmine and Justin kicking it back and forth to each other. Brick was also in the background sleeping on a lounge chair.
The camera panned to the right to show Anne Maria, Izzy, MK, Ripper, and Scott playing cards at a picnic table. "Sorry, wimps," Ripper said with a triumphant grin, "but I won this round!" The bully put his cards on the table. "Whose turn is it to deal?"
"Mine," Izzy said, grabbing the cards. “Watch this!” She then did a number of intricate moves to shuffle them, much to her competitors’ amazement.
Confessional: Scott
"Izzy's such a showboat," Scott told the confessional camera. "She's always there to demonstrate how “cool” she is, but can she smash twenty kitchen rats in under a minute? No.”
“I just wish that my team loses the next challenge so we can vote her off, and I know how to handle that if it comes down to the wire,” the farmer said sneakily.
Confessional Ends
The footage cut back with Millie and Chase sitting on the steps of the boys’ trailer, Millie holding a small basket of sandwich wedges.
"I can't believe how many of these were leftover after lunch!" Millie said before tossing one of the sandwiches into her mouth.
“I can't believe you managed to steal these in the first place!” Chase chuckled.
"I can't help it," Millie said giddily. "Egg salad sandwiches are super tasty, and it's not like Chef will notice."
“I clearly taught you well,” Chase said. “You know, it's great to hang out with each other given all the times we've been separated.”
“We still have to manage until the merge, Chase,” Millie reminded her boyfriend. “Things have been crazy though with Trent's jealousy over you and Sky and his challenge throwing.”
“I didn't even know about all that until you told me a few days ago,” Chase said.
“Sky told me all about it, and I didn't have the time to inform you,” Millie admitted.
“I'm still cool with Trent, but if anybody thinks that I'll drop you for another chick, then they don't know a thing about me,” Chase declared. “I'd rather get poison ivy then cheat on you.”
“Your loyalty is one of the reasons why I'm in love with you,” Millie admired before giving Chase a peck on his cheek.
"I wouldn't be Chase without that, Millie!" Chase smiled. "Now watch this!" A fast-paced and hectic tune began as he did a front handspring, landed, then jumped into the air, twirled a few times, and landed in splits. "This is how you speed eat, folks," he said as he did his routine. He stood up from his splits, took out a few sandwiches from his pockets, and tossed his snacks into the air, catching them all with his open mouth. He took a bow after he finished swallowing.
The contestants applauded politely. "Nice one," Anne Maria said. “I've seen monkeys swallow less bananas than we do with these sandwiches."
"Chef's food has gotten so good," Justin said with a mouthful. The sound of loud snoring filled the air and everyone looked over at Brick, the camera zooming in on him as a ripple effect transitioned the scene.
It was a dark and stormy night on the film lot, and a rat scurried by past the craft services tent before lightning flashed and the camera zoomed in on the light coming from the kitchen window. A few jarringly tense notes played as the shot focused on a kitchen knife in Brick's hand before the music softened out and the knife was used to spread egg salad on a slice of bread. Cheese and lettuce were added next, followed by another slice of bread, and Brick was shown looking at the sandwich with a smile on his face – a stack of similar sandwiches was on the counter nearby.
Just then, Chef made his presence known in the background after another flash of lightning and shouted "Lunch!".
Brick squeaked and held his knife out in front of him in an attempt to protect himself, and Chef began to slowly clap his hands in a deadpan manner.
"We need to stop all this cheating," Brick begged. "Being in this alliance is seriously going against everything I stand for as a cadet."
"This is not about right or wrong, son," Chef declared remorselessly. "It's about you and me winning that cool mil."
The footage rippled back to the present.
Brick was still snoring peacefully as the camera panned away from him and back to the picnic table where Millie and Chase had joined most of the others.
"So, what're you guys doing?" Chase asked the card players.
"We don't think there's gonna be a challenge today," Ripper explained, "so we've just been playing cards against each other."
“And it's kinda getting borin’ with Big and Blue winning a majority of our games,” Anne Maria shot a grim look at Ripper.
“It's not my fault I'm better than you all at Go Fish, Rimmy, and the sort,” Ripper scoffed.
“Now I wish there is a challenge,” Izzy grumbled.
“I second that,” Scott nodded.
The background music became tense as the loudspeakers squealed on. "Attention Total Drama victims!" Chris announced dramatically. "Please meet me in the northeast corner of the studio-palooza! Bring lozenges!" he added over a shot of Chase chewing and swallowing one of his sandwiches while looking up. "The screaming is gonna hurt!"
"Wishes do come true," Izzy laughed humorously as she looked at the others around her.
The footage cut to a view of MK and Izzy through a small monitor looking unamused. "We walk all the way out here," the techno girl said, "yet Chris hasn't arrived yet!" The camera pulled out to show that the monitor was part of a larger recording device pointed at the Gaffers, who along with the Grips had assembled at an open-air set in what looked to be the middle of nowhere.
"Maybe he's racked up too much overtime figuring out new ways to torture us," Justin suggested, leaning against a light in the middle of the shot.
As if on cue, a familiar shout came from above that startled the handsome boy. He and the other castmates looked up in time to see none other than the host falling back-first from above, a small square of red just barely visible on the bottom of his shirt. He landed just below the screen with appropriately dramatic music and a burst of something thick and red that splattered the horrified contestants.
The camera cut to a tilted shot of Chris McLean impaled on the same light which Justin had just been leaning up against. All of the castmates screamed.
"Huh. Guess the producers don't like paying overtime," Justin commented.
"I'm worth every dime!" Chris said, suddenly sitting up with a grin and a shrug.
"I was just about to go out looking for your car and hightail it out of here," Chase spoke up in disappointment.
"It's the magic of cinema, boys and girls!" Chris declared, ignoring the comment. "I'm absolutely, perfectly, Chris-ily fine!" He took the top of the light off his body, revealing that, in fact, he hadn't been impaled at all. "Wanna see how it's done?"
"NO!" every contestant shouted and scowled angrily at the host.
Chris explained anyway, and blood appeared to pour down over the camera turning the whole screen red before the shot zoomed out to show the red was all inside a small square packet similar to what had been on the host's shirt. "Our cracker-jack effects team seals fake blood into a thin membrane of plastic," Chris said before the shot of him falling was shown again, "called a 'squib'." A top-down view of the fall appeared on the top half of the screen that showed the host smiling, while a yellow-and-black silhouette scene on the bottom depicted two interns carrying a mattress to the landing sight.
"This baby bursts on impact," the host said as the screen was splattered red again, which dripped away to show footage of the mattress being lowered into a hole in the ground behind the light, Chris falling down into it with a burst of blood before the ground the light was on descended into the ground and a platform with Chris on the fake light rose to take its place. "An old-fashioned optical illusion helps sell that I get impaled!" the host said as another silhouetted scene slid in from the right showing the fall from a side-view, with the quick change of platforms and lights.
"Can you not make like a sloth right now?" Jasmine groaned. “Get on with it.”
"Time for today's totally terrifying, blood-curdling, Horror Movie Challenge!" Chris announced before starting to walk around in front of the castmates. “To figure out which team gets which challenge, a scream-off! Think of every great horror movie you've ever seen.”
Izzy gasped in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you guys. Did you see that one with the possessed rug that learns to walk and smother cats? Or did I make that up?”
"All horror movies have one thing in common: fantastic screaming from actors. And," Chris added as he walked back past the Grips and lingered in front of Justin, "the killers that snuff them." The pretty boy looked nervously shocked, but Chris paid him no heed. "Each team, pick a serial killer," he told the castmates. "The rest of you will be the screamers. If your serial killer can make you scream the loudest, your team wins!"
A roaring chainsaw swiped down across the screen, accompanied by a sudden but dramatic twist to the background music as the screen was splattered red again.
The 'blood' effect drained away, transitioning the scene to Jasmine talking to the Killer Grips outside the numbered studios while holding the mask and bottle of ketchup. "We have to go with Anne Maria. I'd do it, but my height would be a dead giveaway."
“She scares me on a daily basis,” Millie agreed with the plan.
“And though the mask offers good protection for my beautiful face, I already performed a role in the third challenge,” Justin added.
Jasmine was about to give the mask to Anne Maria until Chef came in and grabbed the object. "Brick's gotta do it!" he claimed furiously.
"But we already agreed to a plan," Jasmine argued.
"Brick… is doing it." Chef said again.
"I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to tell us what to do in the challenges," Anne Maria talked back.
Chef grabbed her hair and held her off the ground. "Do you like having your hair shaved off of your head? Cause I can make that happen," the large man said to Anne Maria threateningly.
Confessional: Anne Maria
"I love my pouf," Anne Maria said. "Not only do I get to style it into whatever the heck I want, but I can also stash things in like spray cans, phones, food. Anything goes as long as it's not overly big. And the last thing I want right now is to lose my hair because of a dumb decision."
Confessional Ends
Chef dropped Anne Maria onto the floor, grabbed Brick by his collar, and shoved the mask onto his chest before stomping off in a satisfied manner.
"Since when does Chef buzz into challenges?" Jasmine asked. "This smells fishy to me."
"Oh, my bad," Anne Maria pulled a sandwich out of her pouf. "I was saving this for later."
“You guys have to let me be the killer!” Chase told his four teammates. “I have a lot of experience with scaring people on Halloween.”
“Okay, I am such the better scarer,” Izzy interjected. “My own dog is terrified of me, okay?”
“Most of my classmates are terrified of me, so I think that triumphs more over that,” Ripper argued.
“I wanna be the killer,” Scott grunted. “This is a role I was born to play.”
MK cleared up her throat. “Can everyone just-”
“But I was the one who scared my teammates last season with the bear costume,” Izzy pouted.
“I was one of them, and I won't be fooled by you again,” Ripper huffed.
MK gritted her teeth before shouting “I'm going to be our serial killer and that's final!!” Everybody stopped arguing and looked at the shortest member of the team. “You guys being the killer would be predictable and boring, and I'm just as worthy of being scary as you all.”
Confessional: MK
“I haven't done much lately other than puke my guts out and sweat uncontrollably,” MK admitted. “If we were to lose this challenge, no way would they consider voting me off if I do my best as the killer.”
Confessional Ends
The footage skipped ahead to night, showing a close-up of Chase walking somewhere around a wooded part of the film lot.
“Looks like we've been lumped into this together,” Jasmine said as the shot pulled back to show the Australian woman wandering around the woods as well.
"Who would've thought?" Chase asked rhetorically.
"Alright, Jasmine and Chase," Chris announced as the shot pulled out yet again to show the host sitting in a director's chair just off what was revealed to be an indoor forest set. "Prepare yourselves for your killers to enter!" The viewpoint shifted in front as he continued excitedly. "And then, I want huge, massive, ginormous screams! We'll be measuring the volume on our Scream-o-Meter!" He pointed above him as a bright green volume icon appeared; a stock screaming sound effect was played that caused the volume meter to rise from left to right, green to yellow to red.
"Lights!" Chris commanded, a dramatic note playing as a stage light was shown turning on. "Camera!" a camera was shown popping up and turning on to another dramatic note. "Action!" A film slate was held in front of the camera filming Chris and clapped.
Chase was shown in the distance with his back towards the camera just before a hockey mask was put 'on' over the shot. The camera moved forward a few steps towards some bushes as tense music built in the background, and the viewpoint shifted to show what was obviously a masked MK watching her teammate from hiding.
The music peaked as she jumped into the open with a roar, prompting Chase to scream… for a few seconds before stopping himself.
"Seriously?" MK asked in annoyance.
“I told myself that you'd be coming any time, so I had to prepare my scream,” Chase told his teammate.
The Scream-o-Meter only registered a few bars.
The camera cut to Brick peeking out of a tree. "I would've preferred if Anne Maria was performing this rather than me," the cadet said, making Chef pop up and scare Brick away with a roar.
Brick bumped into Jasmine while running away. "Oh, hello Brick," Jasmine greeted after turning around.
Brick looked at Chef one last time before putting the mask on and growing, leading Jasmine to scream and make the Scream-o-Meter register all the way to the first red tick.
"With a solid 55 on the Scream-o-Meter, let's notch one up for Brick, Jasmine, and the Killer Grips!" Chris announced.
The scene changed to a portable toilet set up in a smaller indoor forest set. “They cannot be serious," Anne Maria said as the camera cut inside to her filing her nails. "Who do these people think they are filming us in here?" The shot zoomed out slightly, showing that she was, indeed, sitting on the toilet. "I'm not giving them the satisfaction of using the toilet."
A flash took the scene to Scott's turn alone in the portable toilet. "Why don't we just give up now?" Scott scoffed. "There ain't nothing that can scare the Scottmeister much, and MK is no exception."
As if on cue, the techno burst into the toilet and growled loudly, causing Scott to let out a blood-curdling scream.
The camera cut back to Anne Maria, and Brick came into the toilet. "Were you in the middle of…."
"Wasn't even thinkin’ about it. Now do the scene," Anne Maria encouraged Brick, who let out a simple roar.
Scott was still screaming as the camera cut back to him and MK to the point where the Scream-o-Meter topped out.
Suddenly, the sound of peeing was heard, and Scott became quiet in his moment of embarrassment.
"I bet you never made anybody wet themselves like I did to you," MK took her mask off while snorting.
"Sorry, Brickhouse," Anne Maria said as the shot cut back to her and Brick. "You just don't scare me at all. You're kinda a marshmallow."
"I am large and in charge," Brick pointed out. “You're too tough to frighten.”
"And that's round two to MK, Scott, and the Screaming Gaffers!" Chris announced as the camera cut to him in the director's chair. "With a pee-fueled 85 on the Scream-o-Meter!"
After Chris left, Chef snuck out from behind the potty. "If Brick won't step up, the other half of the alliance has to."
The footage flashed ahead to another set, this time a couch in what appeared to be a small cottage in the woods. Ripper and Izzy were sitting on it together with scripts in their hands, while Chris stood a few feet away. "Alright guys," he told the two, "this is the tiebreaker scene. You're gonna have to act your faces off!"
Ripper read the script and his eyes went wide in excitement. "We get to make out! Brilliant!" he grinned.
"Those are one of my favorite parts of any horror movie," Izzy added.
"I love movie life!" Ripper smiled as Izzy sat on his lap and they began to kiss.
As the sounds of their make out session got louder, the camera panned over to Chris standing there with an awkward look on his face. "Awkward," he told the camera.
Millie and Justin were on the couch for the Grips, the camera focusing on the writer as she scanned the papers in her hand. Her eyebrows shot up and she dropped the papers. "No," she said. "Not this. Especially when I'm already dating Chase."
"I'll let you know that I'm a pretty good kisser," Justin told her.
Chris poked the top of his head up from behind the couch, looked between the two teens, and raised himself even further with a grin on his face. "Don't forget, kiddies," he told them, "it's a million bucks!" He ducked back behind the couch again.
With no other choice, the two leaned towards each other with their eyes clenched shut and puckered up. Their lips only barely touched before they recoiled.
“Glad I got that over with," Millie said frantically.
“It was a millisecond kiss, not a kiss of death,” Justin stated as Brick popped up from behind the couch and growled, but the two ignored the killer.
The camera cut to Izzy still making out with Ripper. MK crept up from behind them, brandished her knife, and said, "Ready to be chopped into sushi?!" She was ignored. "Uh, hello?!" she asked in irritation.
The duo looked over at her and gave half-hearted screams that barely stayed green on the Scream-o-Meter, making MK facepalm.
The shot panned over to the three sulking Grips until they looked up and saw a hockey mask wearing Chef brandish a revved up chainsaw and they all screamed. It was enough to put the Scream-o-Meter all the way in the red, and Brick managed to pass out and fall forward onto the couch.
"Well, looks to me like Brick and the Killer Grips have won this one," Chris announced as he walked onto the set, "seeing as they buried the needle. Join us after the break to see if Brick is still alive," he said as Justin and Millie looked over at Brick with concern. "Brick!" Chris called lightly. "Come in, Brick!"
(Commercial Break)
The footage came back with a bottom-up shot of the other nine campers looking down in a circle; counterclockwise from a gap at the top of the screen were Scott, Jasmine, Izzy, Millie, Ripper at the bottom, Anne Maria, Chase, MK, and Justin.
"Is he still breathing?" Anne Maria asked.
"I think he's saying something," Jasmine said before the viewpoint moved to a close-up of the unconscious cadet.
"I'm sorry. I can't take this anymore…" Brick murmured before his face turned scared and he shouted "NO NO NO NO NO!" while turning around.
“Okay, time to wake this doof up,” Ripper said before grabbing Brick's body and sitting him on the couch. The moment he did so, the bully smacked Brick hard on the face.
This act woke Brick up, and he looked around in confusion. "What happened? Why am I here? And where's Chef?"
"Chef's in a meeting with the producers," Chris explained. "A disciplinary meeting. He's in trouble! Not allowed to mess with the challenges."
"I had a feeling something smelled fishy, and not the sandwiches," Jasmine said suspiciously.
"Moving right along," Chris interrupted as the camera pulled out to show the full cast. "It's time to pack up those overnight bags, loser Gaffers!" The camera focused on the five in question. "You and your sleeping bags are spending the night in the dining hall!" All five of them slumped in disappointment. "Grip winners, back to the comfort of the trailers for a little R&R! I'll see you there in half an hour."
The scene flashed over to the craft services tent, the lights within already on. “The craft services tent isn't a bad place to spend the night,” Chase was heard saying before the camera cut inside. "We still have some good memories of the food we ate in here."
Izzy popped out from under a nearby table. "More than memories. I just found half a piece of cheesecake under here," she demonstrated the food.
“Could you split that into one-fourth so I could at least take a piece?” Chase suggested as he looked over the cheesecake.
"Guys!" Chris called from off-camera. "You mind joining us here?" A creepy tune began as the shot moved onto the host on a stool in the middle of the tent, the other three Gaffers seated on the floor around him as Izzy and Chase walked up.
"I'm about to tell you why this film lot was abandoned and closed!" he told the teens in a low voice.
"Because it's a death trap?" MK deadpanned.
"Hush, my child," Chris told her. "This film lot is perfectly safe! On this plane. But in the other dimension...," he trailed off, picking up a flashlight and shining it dramatically up from under his chin, making Izzy, Chase, and MK's eyes widen as they gasped.
"Juanita Rentacop, a dedicated security guard who worked here for twenty-five loyal years, until her mysterious death," he told them slowly. "Right here...," the music built quickly and sharply as the camera pulled back and he stood up and pointed at the ground. "ON THIS VERY SPOT!" Even Ripper and Scott flinched slightly from his sudden exclamation.
"Now," Chris continued as he looked from Gaffer to Gaffer, "her desperate and uneasy spirit walks the lot." He tilted his flashlight towards the wall and doorway, shadows of the bare tree branches falling on the outside of the tent. "No one has ever managed to spend a whole night in this craft service tent!"
"Because the falling sets killed them?" MK asked in a dry tone.
"'Cause," Chris told her as he returned the light to under his chin and the background music rose again, "of the HAUNTING!" he leaned away from her and turned off his flashlight. "Your task," he said with a grin in the center of the group, "spend the whole night here, without leaving this tent. If all or one of you manage to do so," he began to walk off to a table near the kitchen, "your team gets invincibility, and nobody goes home."
"Track any psychic phenomenon using these ghost meters," the host said as the camera zoomed in on a trio of handheld electronic devices resting on the table along with a ouija board. "And just in case," he added as Scott walked over to him, holding out his flashlight before clutching it to his chest and handing the boy a tiny keychain flashlight instead.
"Gee, thanks," Scott said as he held up the light and turned it on, completely unimpressed.
A flash took the scene to the campfire in front of the cast trailers, where the five Grips awaited an approaching Chris McLean. "The Screaming Gaffers are sitting in the craft services tent like sitting ducks," he told them as the camera panned from his close-up to eager Brick and confident Justin, then excited Millie and smirking Jasmine. "Your task is to make like special effects gurus, and frighten the pants off them!" He laughed, then told a skeptical Anne Maria "Or at least scare them enough to get them out of the tent before sunrise."
"How are we supposed to scare them?" Anne Maria asked.
"It's your call," Chris answered. "But if you get them out, your team wins invincibility and nobody goes home. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "just so you know, I told them some cockamamie story about a security guard who died on set." He chuckled, then walked away.
"How are we going to pull this off?" Brick asked his teammates.
"Chase is probably going to get mad at me for this, but I say we turn out the lights," Millie suggested. “Me and him experienced a blackout when we hung out at his house and he couldn't handle it.”
"I've got it!" Jasmine declared with a snap of her fingers. "Let's go. We have work to do." The others shrugged and followed the Outback girl away from the trailers.
The footage skipped ahead to the Grips outside of the tent watching Jasmine hold a white sheet, pillow stuffing, and a red bird in her arms. “Now that we have our things required, allow me to tell you the plan.”
“Why is a bird even on a film lot?” Justin asked.
“This bird just tends to fly around and rest on my branch,” Jasmine explained. “More importantly, I'm going to place the bird in-between the stuffing in order to give it some space to flap its wings, and with the sheet covering both the bird and the stuffing…”
“...the Screaming Gaffers will think that a ghost is haunting them!” Millie realized.
“You hit the nail right on the head,” Jasmine said while ripping some of the stuffing off before placing the bird inside.
“Let's get down to business then,” Brick agreed.
Inside the tent, Ripper, Izzy, Scott, and Chase were shown playing cards at the table nearest the closed-up meal counter while MK sat in front of them feeling bored.
“Do either of you have a seven?” Ripper asked attentively.
"Augh! How did you even know I had that?" Scott groaned as he put a card from his hand down on the table. “I hate to say it, but you really are good at cards, Rip Van Winkle."
Chase noticed something behind him and began to scream, and his teammates looked at him oddly. "Is something wrong?" Izzy asked as her teammate pointed to the air behind him. A few deep notes played as the shot cut to the flapping ghost moving left and right by itself.
Scott, Izzy, and Ripper joined Chase in screaming before they dashed towards the exit.
"Hold on!" MK cried out, but they didn't listen. "I said HOLD ON!!!" This made the team come to a dead stop just as they were about to exit outside. "The ghost meter's aren't reading a thing." She held the ghost detector up.
“Then how do you explain that thing hovering over us?” Chase raised an eyebrow in annoyance.
“Something has to be inside that sheet, and it has to be…” MK said before she took the stack of cards and chucked it at the stuffed sheet, making it drop to the ground.
MK approached the “ghost”, and her teammates gasped in horror as she grabbed hold of the sheet and threw it off, revealing the stuffing inside it and the bird escaped from the stuffing and flew away.
"Great Scott!" Scott declared while the bird flew past him. "It was just a hoodwink!"
Confessional: Chase
"If the Grips are trying to scare us so bad, then they must be doing a great job doing so," Chase told the confessional camera. "Putting a bird inside a sheet was genius."
Confessional Ends
The scene cut back outside, where the Grips turned away from the window they'd been watching from.
"Well, that didn't work," Brick sighed. "Sorry about your bird, Jasmine."
"It's no big deal. I'm not the bird's mother," Jasmine said.
“Does anybody else have any better ideas that don't involve stuffing animals into sheets?” Anne Maria asked impatiently.
“Leave that to me,” Brick spoke up.
"Don't you tend to get scared easily?" Jasmine wondered.
“Admittedly, I do, but I want to provide cooperation for this team,” Brick said. “And I will not take no for an answer.”
The team looked at each other for a brief while before giving in. “You are a Grip after all. What's our plan?” Jasmine asked.
Back in the craft services tent, the Gaffers had resumed their card game. "Give me all your two's!" Chase said.
The lights in the tent then shut off. "Uh, I'll give my two's later," Izzy said frightfully as she and the other Gaffers were shown looking around in confusion.
The scene moved outside, to where Brick was standing by a power box. He had already pulled the main switch down and took out a walkie talkie. "The power has been cut," he whispered into it.
As the Gaffers looked around their tent, the camera panned to Justin watching them just outside a window. "Nice work, Crew Cut," he whispered into a walkie talkie of his own. "Speed Writer, are you there?"
"At the ready, Dashing Devil," Millie replied from outside the tent.
"Remember, this is just Chris or the Killer Grips trying to scare us," MK warned her team.
“Yeah, you may be right,” Chase said optimistically. “This team doesn't give up.”
“Or die trying,” Scott added.
An odd, scratchy moaning began around them. The camera cut back to Millie, the author holding a megaphone and producing the moans.
Inside the tent, the viewpoint shifted to reveal Jasmine dressed in a security guard's uniform swaying in the air above them, her hat conveniently lowered over her eyes. She was obviously in a makeshift harness, and the camera followed the rope attached to her up to the rafters of the tent where Anne Maria was shown clinging to a beam with the other end of the line in one hand and a walkie talkie in the other.
"That's a go from Metal Hair and Long Legs," Anne Maria whispered.
The Gaffers all watched the supposed ghost sway about. “Now THAT is a ghost!” Ripper freaked out.
"I'm too hot to die!" Chase shouted before the team started to run off screaming.
"Are you serious?!" MK hissed. "The ghost meters are not going off!"
From his position, Justin threw a fork intending to aim for the detector, and just when the fork was about to hit its target, MK quickly saw the silverware hit the button on her detector, and despite it going off, the AV girl simply stood still and did not move.
“Yeah, nice try!” she laughed with a smirk after picking up the fork. "I know you're not a ghost, Jasmine!" MK pointed at the 'ghost'. “You can come back now, team!”
Jasmine lifted her hat and revealed her surprised face. "Abort now! We failed!" she said above her.
Up in the rafters, Anne Maria's eyes went wide as she began to pull up. At ground level, MK's teammates returned to the tent and watched in bewilderment as the 'ghost' began to ascend.
“How are you so good at not being scared?” Scott asked MK.
“To make it short, sweet, and to the point, I'm not a dummy,” MK said smugly.
An air horn was sounded off as Chris entered the tent with one in his possession. "The Screaming Gaffers win the challenge. And the Killer Grips are heading to the elimination ceremony!"
The Gaffers all cheered for their victory.
The scene cut to the communal bathroom where Brick was in the middle of washing his hands. After finishing, the cadet was about to step out until he saw Justin enter.
“Hey man. I want to talk to you,” Justin said.
“What could it be about, Justin?” Brick wondered.
“Earlier today, you were mumbling something while you were unconscious,” Justin mentioned. “You even sounded frightened like a bear was coming to kill you.”
“You still remember that?” Brick felt embarrassed.
“I do, but I feel like now is the perfect time to bring it up,” Justin continued. “You've been avoiding us lately and it's confusing us.”
“That is true,” Brick sighed, “but it's not…”
“Jasmine's really concerned about you,” Justin cut him off. “You and her have a bond going, Brick, and is hiding whatever you're doing worth ruining it?”
This caused Brick to fall silent for a bit as he reconsidered his actions before he opened his mouth. “I think I know what I have to do,” he said with a stern look on his face.
The footage faded straight into the opening sequence of the Gilded Chris Awards, followed by a flash to a long-distance shot of the amphitheater as the host approached his podium. The five losing teens were shown voting, with the trio of Millie, Justin, and Anne Maria in the upper row while Brick and Jasmine sat in front.
"And now, fraidy cat Grips," Chris said as the Gaffers were all standing on the stage alongside him, "it's time to announce who will not win a Gilded Chris this week. Who deserves to go home bitterly disappointed, tears in their eyes?"
“I hope someone takes a picture if that happens,” Ripper whispered to his team with a snicker.
“Watching the elimination ceremony is already our reward, but that would be sweeter,” Scott said.
Chef arrived in his usual dress with several golden awards. He bitterly took out an envelope, to which Chris quickly snatched up.
"And! The Gilded Chrises go to...," he announced as the Grips were seen sitting anxiously. "Anne Maria, Millie, Jasmine!" One by one, the three caught the awards that were tossed to them. "Still on the chopping block, Justin and Brick!" The camera panned from one boy to the other, the former looking calm and the latter feeling settled.
"Chris, I'll have to stop you there!" Brick stood up and walked onto the stage, much to everyone's confusion. "I volunteer for elimination. I do not deserve to stay. I did not follow my own code."
"Brick!" Chef yelled in frustration, but quickly chuckled nervously and walked over to the guilty boy. "Why don't you and I have a chat before you do anything stupid!" he whispered menacingly.
"I'm done listening to whatever you tell me to do!" Brick declared to the taken back man and then turned to the others. "Ever since the third challenge, me and Chef were in a secret and illegal alliance."
Everyone gasped at the dropped bombshell as Chef smiled nervously. "He's been attempting to build me up and coach me through the challenges just so we could split the money, and I do not want any part in this." As Brick spoke, Chris could be shown sending an outraged look at his assistant.
"Wait a minute!" Chase cried out. "All the food we've been eating. The pizza, the cheesecake, the sandwiches. That was you?"
"Why leave when you've been making our stay here better?" MK questioned with genuine sadness.
"Yeah!" Justin said in agreement while he and the Grips got on stage with the others. "Can't we just vote Chef off instead?" The model ignored the glare he was receiving from Chef.
"I'm sorry, but I have to make my conscience clean again," Brick responded. He then noticed Jasmine looking at the ground with disappointment. “Jasmine, are you feeling-”
“Like you said, it's best that you stay away from the film lot,” Jasmine said with an upset glare. “And more importantly from me. You lied to me, and a long distance apart is what's best right now.”
Brick hung his head in shame. “Understood!” he obeyed dejectedly.
The scene flashed to Brick stepping into the waiting limo with a sad wave. Chris walked up to it just as the door slammed shut and it drove off, leaving the host standing at the end of the red carpet with a vague smile on his face.
"Well folks," he told the camera. "Looks like everyone just lost their best chef and most moraled man. Now that they've survived this week's fright fest, they'll be forced to bear the most horrific, stomach-churning, gut-wrenching challenge ever! Chef's cooking!” The man laughed gleefully. “I love this game.”
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
“I know I did the right thing, and I don't regret admitting to my wrongdoings, but that doesn't mean that I can ignore the consequences,” Brick said inside the limo. “My fellow competitors will have to go back to eating Chef's less than quality food, and cooking is something I've taken passion in doing now, and my friendship with Jasmine is more or less strained.” He frowned sadly. “I never meant to hurt her at all. I could've told her the truth earlier on, and she still would've been disappointed, but at least she'd see that I was the noble man I told her I am. Now all that's left for me to do is hope that she wins the season.”
Eva - 14th
Geoff - 14th
Izzy - RETURNED
Trent - 12th
Sky - 11th
Brick - 10th
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott
submitted by xtremexavier15 to u/xtremexavier15 [link] [comments]
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott
Episode 9: The Sand Witch Project
"Last time, on Total! Drama! Action! A girl with vision. Vision that took her past everyday thinking. But when the chips were down, and even when the chips came back up again, she was the only one who could rescue them."
"Searching for a cure to the disease that was afflicting her dearest friends, a challenge was won. A cure found."
"But will-" Chris began to munch and crunch on something, though, so the rest of his sentence was completely muddled and unintelligible. The recap footage ended and the shot cut to Chris sitting on the amphitheater bleachers with popcorn at his side.
"Hey, what can I say? Gross disease movies make me crave a little corn!" He picked up his snack and smiled. "But, it's time to put the snacks away, kiddies," he tossed the bag over his shoulder, "because after this totally terrifying episode," the scene cut to a nighttime shot of him walking past a portable toilet near the cast trailers, "there won't be a stomach left unturned!" A horrible growling noise came from inside the toilet that made the host flinch, but he recovered his composure quickly and walked over to a nearby campfire. "Hold on to your buckets. It's time for some Total! Drama! Action!"
(Theme Song)
The episode began with a shot of a soccer ball rolling across the shot and the camera zoomed out to show Jasmine and Justin kicking it back and forth to each other. Brick was also in the background sleeping on a lounge chair.
The camera panned to the right to show Anne Maria, Izzy, MK, Ripper, and Scott playing cards at a picnic table. "Sorry, wimps," Ripper said with a triumphant grin, "but I won this round!" The bully put his cards on the table. "Whose turn is it to deal?"
"Mine," Izzy said, grabbing the cards. “Watch this!” She then did a number of intricate moves to shuffle them, much to her competitors’ amazement.
Confessional: Scott
"Izzy's such a showboat," Scott told the confessional camera. "She's always there to demonstrate how “cool” she is, but can she smash twenty kitchen rats in under a minute? No.”
“I just wish that my team loses the next challenge so we can vote her off, and I know how to handle that if it comes down to the wire,” the farmer said sneakily.
Confessional Ends
The footage cut back with Millie and Chase sitting on the steps of the boys’ trailer, Millie holding a small basket of sandwich wedges.
"I can't believe how many of these were leftover after lunch!" Millie said before tossing one of the sandwiches into her mouth.
“I can't believe you managed to steal these in the first place!” Chase chuckled.
"I can't help it," Millie said giddily. "Egg salad sandwiches are super tasty, and it's not like Chef will notice."
“I clearly taught you well,” Chase said. “You know, it's great to hang out with each other given all the times we've been separated.”
“We still have to manage until the merge, Chase,” Millie reminded her boyfriend. “Things have been crazy though with Trent's jealousy over you and Sky and his challenge throwing.”
“I didn't even know about all that until you told me a few days ago,” Chase said.
“Sky told me all about it, and I didn't have the time to inform you,” Millie admitted.
“I'm still cool with Trent, but if anybody thinks that I'll drop you for another chick, then they don't know a thing about me,” Chase declared. “I'd rather get poison ivy then cheat on you.”
“Your loyalty is one of the reasons why I'm in love with you,” Millie admired before giving Chase a peck on his cheek.
"I wouldn't be Chase without that, Millie!" Chase smiled. "Now watch this!" A fast-paced and hectic tune began as he did a front handspring, landed, then jumped into the air, twirled a few times, and landed in splits. "This is how you speed eat, folks," he said as he did his routine. He stood up from his splits, took out a few sandwiches from his pockets, and tossed his snacks into the air, catching them all with his open mouth. He took a bow after he finished swallowing.
The contestants applauded politely. "Nice one," Anne Maria said. “I've seen monkeys swallow less bananas than we do with these sandwiches."
"Chef's food has gotten so good," Justin said with a mouthful. The sound of loud snoring filled the air and everyone looked over at Brick, the camera zooming in on him as a ripple effect transitioned the scene.
It was a dark and stormy night on the film lot, and a rat scurried by past the craft services tent before lightning flashed and the camera zoomed in on the light coming from the kitchen window. A few jarringly tense notes played as the shot focused on a kitchen knife in Brick's hand before the music softened out and the knife was used to spread egg salad on a slice of bread. Cheese and lettuce were added next, followed by another slice of bread, and Brick was shown looking at the sandwich with a smile on his face – a stack of similar sandwiches was on the counter nearby.
Just then, Chef made his presence known in the background after another flash of lightning and shouted "Lunch!".
Brick squeaked and held his knife out in front of him in an attempt to protect himself, and Chef began to slowly clap his hands in a deadpan manner.
"We need to stop all this cheating," Brick begged. "Being in this alliance is seriously going against everything I stand for as a cadet."
"This is not about right or wrong, son," Chef declared remorselessly. "It's about you and me winning that cool mil."
The footage rippled back to the present.
Brick was still snoring peacefully as the camera panned away from him and back to the picnic table where Millie and Chase had joined most of the others.
"So, what're you guys doing?" Chase asked the card players.
"We don't think there's gonna be a challenge today," Ripper explained, "so we've just been playing cards against each other."
“And it's kinda getting borin’ with Big and Blue winning a majority of our games,” Anne Maria shot a grim look at Ripper.
“It's not my fault I'm better than you all at Go Fish, Rimmy, and the sort,” Ripper scoffed.
“Now I wish there is a challenge,” Izzy grumbled.
“I second that,” Scott nodded.
The background music became tense as the loudspeakers squealed on. "Attention Total Drama victims!" Chris announced dramatically. "Please meet me in the northeast corner of the studio-palooza! Bring lozenges!" he added over a shot of Chase chewing and swallowing one of his sandwiches while looking up. "The screaming is gonna hurt!"
"Wishes do come true," Izzy laughed humorously as she looked at the others around her.
The footage cut to a view of MK and Izzy through a small monitor looking unamused. "We walk all the way out here," the techno girl said, "yet Chris hasn't arrived yet!" The camera pulled out to show that the monitor was part of a larger recording device pointed at the Gaffers, who along with the Grips had assembled at an open-air set in what looked to be the middle of nowhere.
"Maybe he's racked up too much overtime figuring out new ways to torture us," Justin suggested, leaning against a light in the middle of the shot.
As if on cue, a familiar shout came from above that startled the handsome boy. He and the other castmates looked up in time to see none other than the host falling back-first from above, a small square of red just barely visible on the bottom of his shirt. He landed just below the screen with appropriately dramatic music and a burst of something thick and red that splattered the horrified contestants.
The camera cut to a tilted shot of Chris McLean impaled on the same light which Justin had just been leaning up against. All of the castmates screamed.
"Huh. Guess the producers don't like paying overtime," Justin commented.
"I'm worth every dime!" Chris said, suddenly sitting up with a grin and a shrug.
"I was just about to go out looking for your car and hightail it out of here," Chase spoke up in disappointment.
"It's the magic of cinema, boys and girls!" Chris declared, ignoring the comment. "I'm absolutely, perfectly, Chris-ily fine!" He took the top of the light off his body, revealing that, in fact, he hadn't been impaled at all. "Wanna see how it's done?"
"NO!" every contestant shouted and scowled angrily at the host.
Chris explained anyway, and blood appeared to pour down over the camera turning the whole screen red before the shot zoomed out to show the red was all inside a small square packet similar to what had been on the host's shirt. "Our cracker-jack effects team seals fake blood into a thin membrane of plastic," Chris said before the shot of him falling was shown again, "called a 'squib'." A top-down view of the fall appeared on the top half of the screen that showed the host smiling, while a yellow-and-black silhouette scene on the bottom depicted two interns carrying a mattress to the landing sight.
"This baby bursts on impact," the host said as the screen was splattered red again, which dripped away to show footage of the mattress being lowered into a hole in the ground behind the light, Chris falling down into it with a burst of blood before the ground the light was on descended into the ground and a platform with Chris on the fake light rose to take its place. "An old-fashioned optical illusion helps sell that I get impaled!" the host said as another silhouetted scene slid in from the right showing the fall from a side-view, with the quick change of platforms and lights.
"Can you not make like a sloth right now?" Jasmine groaned. “Get on with it.”
"Time for today's totally terrifying, blood-curdling, Horror Movie Challenge!" Chris announced before starting to walk around in front of the castmates. “To figure out which team gets which challenge, a scream-off! Think of every great horror movie you've ever seen.”
Izzy gasped in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you guys. Did you see that one with the possessed rug that learns to walk and smother cats? Or did I make that up?”
"All horror movies have one thing in common: fantastic screaming from actors. And," Chris added as he walked back past the Grips and lingered in front of Justin, "the killers that snuff them." The pretty boy looked nervously shocked, but Chris paid him no heed. "Each team, pick a serial killer," he told the castmates. "The rest of you will be the screamers. If your serial killer can make you scream the loudest, your team wins!"
A roaring chainsaw swiped down across the screen, accompanied by a sudden but dramatic twist to the background music as the screen was splattered red again.
The 'blood' effect drained away, transitioning the scene to Jasmine talking to the Killer Grips outside the numbered studios while holding the mask and bottle of ketchup. "We have to go with Anne Maria. I'd do it, but my height would be a dead giveaway."
“She scares me on a daily basis,” Millie agreed with the plan.
“And though the mask offers good protection for my beautiful face, I already performed a role in the third challenge,” Justin added.
Jasmine was about to give the mask to Anne Maria until Chef came in and grabbed the object. "Brick's gotta do it!" he claimed furiously.
"But we already agreed to a plan," Jasmine argued.
"Brick… is doing it." Chef said again.
"I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to tell us what to do in the challenges," Anne Maria talked back.
Chef grabbed her hair and held her off the ground. "Do you like having your hair shaved off of your head? Cause I can make that happen," the large man said to Anne Maria threateningly.
Confessional: Anne Maria
"I love my pouf," Anne Maria said. "Not only do I get to style it into whatever the heck I want, but I can also stash things in like spray cans, phones, food. Anything goes as long as it's not overly big. And the last thing I want right now is to lose my hair because of a dumb decision."
Confessional Ends
Chef dropped Anne Maria onto the floor, grabbed Brick by his collar, and shoved the mask onto his chest before stomping off in a satisfied manner.
"Since when does Chef buzz into challenges?" Jasmine asked. "This smells fishy to me."
"Oh, my bad," Anne Maria pulled a sandwich out of her pouf. "I was saving this for later."
“You guys have to let me be the killer!” Chase told his four teammates. “I have a lot of experience with scaring people on Halloween.”
“Okay, I am such the better scarer,” Izzy interjected. “My own dog is terrified of me, okay?”
“Most of my classmates are terrified of me, so I think that triumphs more over that,” Ripper argued.
“I wanna be the killer,” Scott grunted. “This is a role I was born to play.”
MK cleared up her throat. “Can everyone just-”
“But I was the one who scared my teammates last season with the bear costume,” Izzy pouted.
“I was one of them, and I won't be fooled by you again,” Ripper huffed.
MK gritted her teeth before shouting “I'm going to be our serial killer and that's final!!” Everybody stopped arguing and looked at the shortest member of the team. “You guys being the killer would be predictable and boring, and I'm just as worthy of being scary as you all.”
Confessional: MK
“I haven't done much lately other than puke my guts out and sweat uncontrollably,” MK admitted. “If we were to lose this challenge, no way would they consider voting me off if I do my best as the killer.”
Confessional Ends
The footage skipped ahead to night, showing a close-up of Chase walking somewhere around a wooded part of the film lot.
“Looks like we've been lumped into this together,” Jasmine said as the shot pulled back to show the Australian woman wandering around the woods as well.
"Who would've thought?" Chase asked rhetorically.
"Alright, Jasmine and Chase," Chris announced as the shot pulled out yet again to show the host sitting in a director's chair just off what was revealed to be an indoor forest set. "Prepare yourselves for your killers to enter!" The viewpoint shifted in front as he continued excitedly. "And then, I want huge, massive, ginormous screams! We'll be measuring the volume on our Scream-o-Meter!" He pointed above him as a bright green volume icon appeared; a stock screaming sound effect was played that caused the volume meter to rise from left to right, green to yellow to red.
"Lights!" Chris commanded, a dramatic note playing as a stage light was shown turning on. "Camera!" a camera was shown popping up and turning on to another dramatic note. "Action!" A film slate was held in front of the camera filming Chris and clapped.
Chase was shown in the distance with his back towards the camera just before a hockey mask was put 'on' over the shot. The camera moved forward a few steps towards some bushes as tense music built in the background, and the viewpoint shifted to show what was obviously a masked MK watching her teammate from hiding.
The music peaked as she jumped into the open with a roar, prompting Chase to scream… for a few seconds before stopping himself.
"Seriously?" MK asked in annoyance.
“I told myself that you'd be coming any time, so I had to prepare my scream,” Chase told his teammate.
The Scream-o-Meter only registered a few bars.
The camera cut to Brick peeking out of a tree. "I would've preferred if Anne Maria was performing this rather than me," the cadet said, making Chef pop up and scare Brick away with a roar.
Brick bumped into Jasmine while running away. "Oh, hello Brick," Jasmine greeted after turning around.
Brick looked at Chef one last time before putting the mask on and growing, leading Jasmine to scream and make the Scream-o-Meter register all the way to the first red tick.
"With a solid 55 on the Scream-o-Meter, let's notch one up for Brick, Jasmine, and the Killer Grips!" Chris announced.
The scene changed to a portable toilet set up in a smaller indoor forest set. “They cannot be serious," Anne Maria said as the camera cut inside to her filing her nails. "Who do these people think they are filming us in here?" The shot zoomed out slightly, showing that she was, indeed, sitting on the toilet. "I'm not giving them the satisfaction of using the toilet."
A flash took the scene to Scott's turn alone in the portable toilet. "Why don't we just give up now?" Scott scoffed. "There ain't nothing that can scare the Scottmeister much, and MK is no exception."
As if on cue, the techno burst into the toilet and growled loudly, causing Scott to let out a blood-curdling scream.
The camera cut back to Anne Maria, and Brick came into the toilet. "Were you in the middle of…."
"Wasn't even thinkin’ about it. Now do the scene," Anne Maria encouraged Brick, who let out a simple roar.
Scott was still screaming as the camera cut back to him and MK to the point where the Scream-o-Meter topped out.
Suddenly, the sound of peeing was heard, and Scott became quiet in his moment of embarrassment.
"I bet you never made anybody wet themselves like I did to you," MK took her mask off while snorting.
"Sorry, Brickhouse," Anne Maria said as the shot cut back to her and Brick. "You just don't scare me at all. You're kinda a marshmallow."
"I am large and in charge," Brick pointed out. “You're too tough to frighten.”
"And that's round two to MK, Scott, and the Screaming Gaffers!" Chris announced as the camera cut to him in the director's chair. "With a pee-fueled 85 on the Scream-o-Meter!"
After Chris left, Chef snuck out from behind the potty. "If Brick won't step up, the other half of the alliance has to."
The footage flashed ahead to another set, this time a couch in what appeared to be a small cottage in the woods. Ripper and Izzy were sitting on it together with scripts in their hands, while Chris stood a few feet away. "Alright guys," he told the two, "this is the tiebreaker scene. You're gonna have to act your faces off!"
Ripper read the script and his eyes went wide in excitement. "We get to make out! Brilliant!" he grinned.
"Those are one of my favorite parts of any horror movie," Izzy added.
"I love movie life!" Ripper smiled as Izzy sat on his lap and they began to kiss.
As the sounds of their make out session got louder, the camera panned over to Chris standing there with an awkward look on his face. "Awkward," he told the camera.
Millie and Justin were on the couch for the Grips, the camera focusing on the writer as she scanned the papers in her hand. Her eyebrows shot up and she dropped the papers. "No," she said. "Not this. Especially when I'm already dating Chase."
"I'll let you know that I'm a pretty good kisser," Justin told her.
Chris poked the top of his head up from behind the couch, looked between the two teens, and raised himself even further with a grin on his face. "Don't forget, kiddies," he told them, "it's a million bucks!" He ducked back behind the couch again.
With no other choice, the two leaned towards each other with their eyes clenched shut and puckered up. Their lips only barely touched before they recoiled.
“Glad I got that over with," Millie said frantically.
“It was a millisecond kiss, not a kiss of death,” Justin stated as Brick popped up from behind the couch and growled, but the two ignored the killer.
The camera cut to Izzy still making out with Ripper. MK crept up from behind them, brandished her knife, and said, "Ready to be chopped into sushi?!" She was ignored. "Uh, hello?!" she asked in irritation.
The duo looked over at her and gave half-hearted screams that barely stayed green on the Scream-o-Meter, making MK facepalm.
The shot panned over to the three sulking Grips until they looked up and saw a hockey mask wearing Chef brandish a revved up chainsaw and they all screamed. It was enough to put the Scream-o-Meter all the way in the red, and Brick managed to pass out and fall forward onto the couch.
"Well, looks to me like Brick and the Killer Grips have won this one," Chris announced as he walked onto the set, "seeing as they buried the needle. Join us after the break to see if Brick is still alive," he said as Justin and Millie looked over at Brick with concern. "Brick!" Chris called lightly. "Come in, Brick!"
(Commercial Break)
The footage came back with a bottom-up shot of the other nine campers looking down in a circle; counterclockwise from a gap at the top of the screen were Scott, Jasmine, Izzy, Millie, Ripper at the bottom, Anne Maria, Chase, MK, and Justin.
"Is he still breathing?" Anne Maria asked.
"I think he's saying something," Jasmine said before the viewpoint moved to a close-up of the unconscious cadet.
"I'm sorry. I can't take this anymore…" Brick murmured before his face turned scared and he shouted "NO NO NO NO NO!" while turning around.
“Okay, time to wake this doof up,” Ripper said before grabbing Brick's body and sitting him on the couch. The moment he did so, the bully smacked Brick hard on the face.
This act woke Brick up, and he looked around in confusion. "What happened? Why am I here? And where's Chef?"
"Chef's in a meeting with the producers," Chris explained. "A disciplinary meeting. He's in trouble! Not allowed to mess with the challenges."
"I had a feeling something smelled fishy, and not the sandwiches," Jasmine said suspiciously.
"Moving right along," Chris interrupted as the camera pulled out to show the full cast. "It's time to pack up those overnight bags, loser Gaffers!" The camera focused on the five in question. "You and your sleeping bags are spending the night in the dining hall!" All five of them slumped in disappointment. "Grip winners, back to the comfort of the trailers for a little R&R! I'll see you there in half an hour."
The scene flashed over to the craft services tent, the lights within already on. “The craft services tent isn't a bad place to spend the night,” Chase was heard saying before the camera cut inside. "We still have some good memories of the food we ate in here."
Izzy popped out from under a nearby table. "More than memories. I just found half a piece of cheesecake under here," she demonstrated the food.
“Could you split that into one-fourth so I could at least take a piece?” Chase suggested as he looked over the cheesecake.
"Guys!" Chris called from off-camera. "You mind joining us here?" A creepy tune began as the shot moved onto the host on a stool in the middle of the tent, the other three Gaffers seated on the floor around him as Izzy and Chase walked up.
"I'm about to tell you why this film lot was abandoned and closed!" he told the teens in a low voice.
"Because it's a death trap?" MK deadpanned.
"Hush, my child," Chris told her. "This film lot is perfectly safe! On this plane. But in the other dimension...," he trailed off, picking up a flashlight and shining it dramatically up from under his chin, making Izzy, Chase, and MK's eyes widen as they gasped.
"Juanita Rentacop, a dedicated security guard who worked here for twenty-five loyal years, until her mysterious death," he told them slowly. "Right here...," the music built quickly and sharply as the camera pulled back and he stood up and pointed at the ground. "ON THIS VERY SPOT!" Even Ripper and Scott flinched slightly from his sudden exclamation.
"Now," Chris continued as he looked from Gaffer to Gaffer, "her desperate and uneasy spirit walks the lot." He tilted his flashlight towards the wall and doorway, shadows of the bare tree branches falling on the outside of the tent. "No one has ever managed to spend a whole night in this craft service tent!"
"Because the falling sets killed them?" MK asked in a dry tone.
"'Cause," Chris told her as he returned the light to under his chin and the background music rose again, "of the HAUNTING!" he leaned away from her and turned off his flashlight. "Your task," he said with a grin in the center of the group, "spend the whole night here, without leaving this tent. If all or one of you manage to do so," he began to walk off to a table near the kitchen, "your team gets invincibility, and nobody goes home."
"Track any psychic phenomenon using these ghost meters," the host said as the camera zoomed in on a trio of handheld electronic devices resting on the table along with a ouija board. "And just in case," he added as Scott walked over to him, holding out his flashlight before clutching it to his chest and handing the boy a tiny keychain flashlight instead.
"Gee, thanks," Scott said as he held up the light and turned it on, completely unimpressed.
A flash took the scene to the campfire in front of the cast trailers, where the five Grips awaited an approaching Chris McLean. "The Screaming Gaffers are sitting in the craft services tent like sitting ducks," he told them as the camera panned from his close-up to eager Brick and confident Justin, then excited Millie and smirking Jasmine. "Your task is to make like special effects gurus, and frighten the pants off them!" He laughed, then told a skeptical Anne Maria "Or at least scare them enough to get them out of the tent before sunrise."
"How are we supposed to scare them?" Anne Maria asked.
"It's your call," Chris answered. "But if you get them out, your team wins invincibility and nobody goes home. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "just so you know, I told them some cockamamie story about a security guard who died on set." He chuckled, then walked away.
"How are we going to pull this off?" Brick asked his teammates.
"Chase is probably going to get mad at me for this, but I say we turn out the lights," Millie suggested. “Me and him experienced a blackout when we hung out at his house and he couldn't handle it.”
"I've got it!" Jasmine declared with a snap of her fingers. "Let's go. We have work to do." The others shrugged and followed the Outback girl away from the trailers.
The footage skipped ahead to the Grips outside of the tent watching Jasmine hold a white sheet, pillow stuffing, and a red bird in her arms. “Now that we have our things required, allow me to tell you the plan.”
“Why is a bird even on a film lot?” Justin asked.
“This bird just tends to fly around and rest on my branch,” Jasmine explained. “More importantly, I'm going to place the bird in-between the stuffing in order to give it some space to flap its wings, and with the sheet covering both the bird and the stuffing…”
“...the Screaming Gaffers will think that a ghost is haunting them!” Millie realized.
“You hit the nail right on the head,” Jasmine said while ripping some of the stuffing off before placing the bird inside.
“Let's get down to business then,” Brick agreed.
Inside the tent, Ripper, Izzy, Scott, and Chase were shown playing cards at the table nearest the closed-up meal counter while MK sat in front of them feeling bored.
“Do either of you have a seven?” Ripper asked attentively.
"Augh! How did you even know I had that?" Scott groaned as he put a card from his hand down on the table. “I hate to say it, but you really are good at cards, Rip Van Winkle."
Chase noticed something behind him and began to scream, and his teammates looked at him oddly. "Is something wrong?" Izzy asked as her teammate pointed to the air behind him. A few deep notes played as the shot cut to the flapping ghost moving left and right by itself.
Scott, Izzy, and Ripper joined Chase in screaming before they dashed towards the exit.
"Hold on!" MK cried out, but they didn't listen. "I said HOLD ON!!!" This made the team come to a dead stop just as they were about to exit outside. "The ghost meter's aren't reading a thing." She held the ghost detector up.
“Then how do you explain that thing hovering over us?” Chase raised an eyebrow in annoyance.
“Something has to be inside that sheet, and it has to be…” MK said before she took the stack of cards and chucked it at the stuffed sheet, making it drop to the ground.
MK approached the “ghost”, and her teammates gasped in horror as she grabbed hold of the sheet and threw it off, revealing the stuffing inside it and the bird escaped from the stuffing and flew away.
"Great Scott!" Scott declared while the bird flew past him. "It was just a hoodwink!"
Confessional: Chase
"If the Grips are trying to scare us so bad, then they must be doing a great job doing so," Chase told the confessional camera. "Putting a bird inside a sheet was genius."
Confessional Ends
The scene cut back outside, where the Grips turned away from the window they'd been watching from.
"Well, that didn't work," Brick sighed. "Sorry about your bird, Jasmine."
"It's no big deal. I'm not the bird's mother," Jasmine said.
“Does anybody else have any better ideas that don't involve stuffing animals into sheets?” Anne Maria asked impatiently.
“Leave that to me,” Brick spoke up.
"Don't you tend to get scared easily?" Jasmine wondered.
“Admittedly, I do, but I want to provide cooperation for this team,” Brick said. “And I will not take no for an answer.”
The team looked at each other for a brief while before giving in. “You are a Grip after all. What's our plan?” Jasmine asked.
Back in the craft services tent, the Gaffers had resumed their card game. "Give me all your two's!" Chase said.
The lights in the tent then shut off. "Uh, I'll give my two's later," Izzy said frightfully as she and the other Gaffers were shown looking around in confusion.
The scene moved outside, to where Brick was standing by a power box. He had already pulled the main switch down and took out a walkie talkie. "The power has been cut," he whispered into it.
As the Gaffers looked around their tent, the camera panned to Justin watching them just outside a window. "Nice work, Crew Cut," he whispered into a walkie talkie of his own. "Speed Writer, are you there?"
"At the ready, Dashing Devil," Millie replied from outside the tent.
"Remember, this is just Chris or the Killer Grips trying to scare us," MK warned her team.
“Yeah, you may be right,” Chase said optimistically. “This team doesn't give up.”
“Or die trying,” Scott added.
An odd, scratchy moaning began around them. The camera cut back to Millie, the author holding a megaphone and producing the moans.
Inside the tent, the viewpoint shifted to reveal Jasmine dressed in a security guard's uniform swaying in the air above them, her hat conveniently lowered over her eyes. She was obviously in a makeshift harness, and the camera followed the rope attached to her up to the rafters of the tent where Anne Maria was shown clinging to a beam with the other end of the line in one hand and a walkie talkie in the other.
"That's a go from Metal Hair and Long Legs," Anne Maria whispered.
The Gaffers all watched the supposed ghost sway about. “Now THAT is a ghost!” Ripper freaked out.
"I'm too hot to die!" Chase shouted before the team started to run off screaming.
"Are you serious?!" MK hissed. "The ghost meters are not going off!"
From his position, Justin threw a fork intending to aim for the detector, and just when the fork was about to hit its target, MK quickly saw the silverware hit the button on her detector, and despite it going off, the AV girl simply stood still and did not move.
“Yeah, nice try!” she laughed with a smirk after picking up the fork. "I know you're not a ghost, Jasmine!" MK pointed at the 'ghost'. “You can come back now, team!”
Jasmine lifted her hat and revealed her surprised face. "Abort now! We failed!" she said above her.
Up in the rafters, Anne Maria's eyes went wide as she began to pull up. At ground level, MK's teammates returned to the tent and watched in bewilderment as the 'ghost' began to ascend.
“How are you so good at not being scared?” Scott asked MK.
“To make it short, sweet, and to the point, I'm not a dummy,” MK said smugly.
An air horn was sounded off as Chris entered the tent with one in his possession. "The Screaming Gaffers win the challenge. And the Killer Grips are heading to the elimination ceremony!"
The Gaffers all cheered for their victory.
The scene cut to the communal bathroom where Brick was in the middle of washing his hands. After finishing, the cadet was about to step out until he saw Justin enter.
“Hey man. I want to talk to you,” Justin said.
“What could it be about, Justin?” Brick wondered.
“Earlier today, you were mumbling something while you were unconscious,” Justin mentioned. “You even sounded frightened like a bear was coming to kill you.”
“You still remember that?” Brick felt embarrassed.
“I do, but I feel like now is the perfect time to bring it up,” Justin continued. “You've been avoiding us lately and it's confusing us.”
“That is true,” Brick sighed, “but it's not…”
“Jasmine's really concerned about you,” Justin cut him off. “You and her have a bond going, Brick, and is hiding whatever you're doing worth ruining it?”
This caused Brick to fall silent for a bit as he reconsidered his actions before he opened his mouth. “I think I know what I have to do,” he said with a stern look on his face.
The footage faded straight into the opening sequence of the Gilded Chris Awards, followed by a flash to a long-distance shot of the amphitheater as the host approached his podium. The five losing teens were shown voting, with the trio of Millie, Justin, and Anne Maria in the upper row while Brick and Jasmine sat in front.
"And now, fraidy cat Grips," Chris said as the Gaffers were all standing on the stage alongside him, "it's time to announce who will not win a Gilded Chris this week. Who deserves to go home bitterly disappointed, tears in their eyes?"
“I hope someone takes a picture if that happens,” Ripper whispered to his team with a snicker.
“Watching the elimination ceremony is already our reward, but that would be sweeter,” Scott said.
Chef arrived in his usual dress with several golden awards. He bitterly took out an envelope, to which Chris quickly snatched up.
"And! The Gilded Chrises go to...," he announced as the Grips were seen sitting anxiously. "Anne Maria, Millie, Jasmine!" One by one, the three caught the awards that were tossed to them. "Still on the chopping block, Justin and Brick!" The camera panned from one boy to the other, the former looking calm and the latter feeling settled.
"Chris, I'll have to stop you there!" Brick stood up and walked onto the stage, much to everyone's confusion. "I volunteer for elimination. I do not deserve to stay. I did not follow my own code."
"Brick!" Chef yelled in frustration, but quickly chuckled nervously and walked over to the guilty boy. "Why don't you and I have a chat before you do anything stupid!" he whispered menacingly.
"I'm done listening to whatever you tell me to do!" Brick declared to the taken back man and then turned to the others. "Ever since the third challenge, me and Chef were in a secret and illegal alliance."
Everyone gasped at the dropped bombshell as Chef smiled nervously. "He's been attempting to build me up and coach me through the challenges just so we could split the money, and I do not want any part in this." As Brick spoke, Chris could be shown sending an outraged look at his assistant.
"Wait a minute!" Chase cried out. "All the food we've been eating. The pizza, the cheesecake, the sandwiches. That was you?"
"Why leave when you've been making our stay here better?" MK questioned with genuine sadness.
"Yeah!" Justin said in agreement while he and the Grips got on stage with the others. "Can't we just vote Chef off instead?" The model ignored the glare he was receiving from Chef.
"I'm sorry, but I have to make my conscience clean again," Brick responded. He then noticed Jasmine looking at the ground with disappointment. “Jasmine, are you feeling-”
“Like you said, it's best that you stay away from the film lot,” Jasmine said with an upset glare. “And more importantly from me. You lied to me, and a long distance apart is what's best right now.”
Brick hung his head in shame. “Understood!” he obeyed dejectedly.
The scene flashed to Brick stepping into the waiting limo with a sad wave. Chris walked up to it just as the door slammed shut and it drove off, leaving the host standing at the end of the red carpet with a vague smile on his face.
"Well folks," he told the camera. "Looks like everyone just lost their best chef and most moraled man. Now that they've survived this week's fright fest, they'll be forced to bear the most horrific, stomach-churning, gut-wrenching challenge ever! Chef's cooking!” The man laughed gleefully. “I love this game.”
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
“I know I did the right thing, and I don't regret admitting to my wrongdoings, but that doesn't mean that I can ignore the consequences,” Brick said inside the limo. “My fellow competitors will have to go back to eating Chef's less than quality food, and cooking is something I've taken passion in doing now, and my friendship with Jasmine is more or less strained.” He frowned sadly. “I never meant to hurt her at all. I could've told her the truth earlier on, and she still would've been disappointed, but at least she'd see that I was the noble man I told her I am. Now all that's left for me to do is hope that she wins the season.”
Eva - 14th
Geoff - 14th
Izzy - RETURNED
Trent - 12th
Sky - 11th
Brick - 10th
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Jasmine, Justin, Millie
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, Izzy, MK, Ripper, Scott
2024.05.23 04:56 miss_p1ss i think i fucked up ://
sooo fired up my dating apps since starting transition about 1.5year ago, very quickly got a lot of matches from guys twice my age (i’m early/mid 20s). one guy was a lot closer to my age and was very forward from the minute we matched. unfortunately, he is kind of cute and i have never received this sort of attention and i got a bit carried away with myself talking dirty and sending pics 😭.
anyway we planned to meet up so i shared my address, but as the day went on he said some questionable things that made me realise he was definitely just into me because of my gock. i called off the meet up because i didn’t feel comfortable anymore and he was understanding. but i’m now unsure how to shut the whole thing down without upsetting him since he has my address.
any advice on how u would deal with this would be appreciated, pls don’t flame me for sending address i knew it was dumb as soon as i did it 😖😖
submitted by miss_p1ss to MtF [link] [comments]
anyway we planned to meet up so i shared my address, but as the day went on he said some questionable things that made me realise he was definitely just into me because of my gock. i called off the meet up because i didn’t feel comfortable anymore and he was understanding. but i’m now unsure how to shut the whole thing down without upsetting him since he has my address.
any advice on how u would deal with this would be appreciated, pls don’t flame me for sending address i knew it was dumb as soon as i did it 😖😖
2024.05.23 04:53 zombiehive Run Version 3.6
I’m never going to be the same person again. Don’t worry, neither will you. None of us will be. That’s the neat thing about the passage of time. It’s happened before and it will happen again. A thought experiment: Who were you five years ago? Ten? Twenty? I won’t presume to know how old you are, but you can see how this can be extrapolated on and on.
It catches you by surprise most of the time. One day you’ll be doing the most mundane of tasks, like cleaning your stove. You’ll look down, rag in hand, at the filth caking the surface and wonder how you got here. Maybe you’ll have memories of doing this task as a child. Who was that child? Would they recognize you today? Would you be someone they could love?
You’ll be driving down the highway and the DJ on the radio is calling your favorite song a classic. When did that happen? Surely, the song is not that old. At your location, you flip the visor down for a quick mirror check. The wrinkles startle you. Surely, you are not that old.
But it is, and you are. Time crept up on you and stole your youth right from under you. Again you are startled. Because this is the thing no one ever tells you about becoming a different person, you hardly ever feel it happening. Short of those traumatic events that define your life into a before-and-after, you crawl into a new skin slowly. Replace old parts with new until there’s nothing left of the former.
Congratulations! You of Theseus. How’s it feel? Is it everything you’ve always wanted? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Or maybe I’m being presumptuous. You could be the lucky outlier. But you probably aren’t.
Going backwards to who you were is impossible. It’s only the ever forward march to who you will be. Existence is a liminal thing. You’re always in between what was and what’s coming. “But I know who I am!” you protest. Are you so sure?
Have you always known who you are, or is that a relatively new thing? Have you known who you were before? Was that the same person? I didn’t think so. But I have already demonstrated a habit of being presumptuous.
Who was the first person you loved? What did their skin taste like? Would they still love you? Who were you when you loved them? These types of questions are important. Even when you can’t find the words to answer them. Especially when you can’t find the words to answer them.
It’s almost time to wake up now. I’ve gone on for far too long. But the main point I’m trying to make through all these rambles is this - who you are is always changing. Yet, somehow, you always remain yourself. So there’s no need to panic. You’re still you - just different. Like you have been before.
Only this time, you have no mouth. So you can’t scream.
submitted by zombiehive to shortscarystories [link] [comments]
It catches you by surprise most of the time. One day you’ll be doing the most mundane of tasks, like cleaning your stove. You’ll look down, rag in hand, at the filth caking the surface and wonder how you got here. Maybe you’ll have memories of doing this task as a child. Who was that child? Would they recognize you today? Would you be someone they could love?
You’ll be driving down the highway and the DJ on the radio is calling your favorite song a classic. When did that happen? Surely, the song is not that old. At your location, you flip the visor down for a quick mirror check. The wrinkles startle you. Surely, you are not that old.
But it is, and you are. Time crept up on you and stole your youth right from under you. Again you are startled. Because this is the thing no one ever tells you about becoming a different person, you hardly ever feel it happening. Short of those traumatic events that define your life into a before-and-after, you crawl into a new skin slowly. Replace old parts with new until there’s nothing left of the former.
Congratulations! You of Theseus. How’s it feel? Is it everything you’ve always wanted? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Or maybe I’m being presumptuous. You could be the lucky outlier. But you probably aren’t.
Going backwards to who you were is impossible. It’s only the ever forward march to who you will be. Existence is a liminal thing. You’re always in between what was and what’s coming. “But I know who I am!” you protest. Are you so sure?
Have you always known who you are, or is that a relatively new thing? Have you known who you were before? Was that the same person? I didn’t think so. But I have already demonstrated a habit of being presumptuous.
Who was the first person you loved? What did their skin taste like? Would they still love you? Who were you when you loved them? These types of questions are important. Even when you can’t find the words to answer them. Especially when you can’t find the words to answer them.
It’s almost time to wake up now. I’ve gone on for far too long. But the main point I’m trying to make through all these rambles is this - who you are is always changing. Yet, somehow, you always remain yourself. So there’s no need to panic. You’re still you - just different. Like you have been before.
Only this time, you have no mouth. So you can’t scream.
2024.05.23 04:28 Roanoketrees Academy - Linux Privilege Escalation
 | In the Kernel Exploits section of Linux Privilege Escalation, we have a question that asks us to find a kernel exploit for 4.15.0-76-generic kernel on an Ubuntu 18.04 machine. I have tried every kernel exploit I can find for that kernel version. I tried polkit exploits and pwnkit, I tried subuid_shell, I tried Baron Samedit 1 and 2. The lesson mentions dirtyCow but that isnt available for this kernel. How did you guys handle this? submitted by Roanoketrees to hackthebox [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/qhxwljmf732d1.png?width=827&format=png&auto=webp&s=aedea2421e60b54d15389a138f4fbf7bb51aef89 I also tried the exploit mentioned here that is supposedly a possibility since the user on the box can run openssl as root. Wouldnt work either. https://ivanitlearning.wordpress.com/2021/04/17/hackthebox-book/ https://preview.redd.it/wap5dlf3832d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=3d8bb090cbd2898e306975a792aa02ed9f960062 |
2024.05.23 04:09 Fontaigne One Missile Left
(So it's a one-shot, obviously.)
John and Linda were born on a civilian refugee transport at the first battle of Dandi.
Yes, those are human names, and if you knew nothing else about the battle or about the names, then you'd probably think they were human. You would probably think that they must have died soon after that, and it wouldn't be until I told you that they are still alive, over two centuries later, that you knew they could not be human. Looking at my face, you could probably then deduce that they were Tridan, the main race on Dandi. My parents.
Dandi was very fairly small world, and it wasn't really expecting to be attacked. The machines known as the Ravagers had been expected to go slightly downspin and attack AaronThurr first. Thus, when they arrived at Dandi, it was a surprise to almost everyone, evacuations and emergency warnings immediately bled it out into the void, but they had no expectation that anyone was going to arrive in time to even slow down the robotic extermination. A small number of ships that were capable of taking on refugees did so, but even they were not going to be fast enough to escape before the robot armada arrived at the planet. But they did what they must. Took what they could, left what they had to, and prayed.
When a second fleet warped in and established a formation behind the Ravagers, Captain Guides-to-Bargains of the cargo ship We Deliver Safely thought that his ship was going to die a quick and sadly ironic death, given its name. And along with it would die the six hundred children, eggs and pregnant or gravid females he carried.
The first approaching Ravager fleet was typical of their ilk. Two dozen ships was plenty enough to rape and murder a pastoral world, given a typical mix of cruisers, tenders, landers and miners. The cruisers would shatter any orbital defenses and civilian craft, the tenders would fix any damaged ships, the landers would begin the process of establishing beachheads, and the miners would collect materials and scrap and then would manufacture whatever else was needed. This fleet happened to be a bit short, having only four total cruisers, two each of tenders and miners, and a light dozen landers. But then there were the reinforcements.
The reinforcement fleet was a surprise. It didn't make a lot of sense to Guides-to-Bargains, but it was made up of a wide variety of small ships and barely space worthy scrap, like the Ravagers had collected up battle salvage, strapped on engines and moved them with reckless speed to catch up with their vanguard. It would have been more in character, being machine-patient, for them to have stopped in space somewhere and used the tenders to turn that bizarre rabble into a few more of their typical hyper-effective units.
It didn't seem to make sense. But then, Guides-to-Bargains had never heard of humans.
It wasn't until the velocity and delta V on the second fleet crossed over and proved that the fleets would merge before the first fleet reached orbit, that the first fleet began to maneuver in reaction.
Belligerent reaction.
The cruisers, one heavy and three light, reversed thrust and spread out like a claw. The two tenders trailed behind them as its cocked wrist. The eleven landers and the two miners came on.
The second fleet, in response, spread itself out like a lumpy catcher's mitt and accelerated.
Guides-to-Bargains looked at the display tank in his tramp freighter, calculated a moment, and came to a conclusion.
He was going to live. They were all going to live.
He adjusted their heading for a direction that none of the Ravagers would likely catch them before the jump limit, and opened a comm to the entire ship.
"Attention, crew and guests. We have some help, and we're probably going to make it. I have no idea who they are, but they've distracted the Ravager cruisers enough that there's a safe burn vector for us, and for the other refugee ships."
He glanced at the tank to confirm the obvious.
"We're spreading out so they won't get a chance to run more than one or two of us down." His voice dropped, and cracked a bit. "If that."
It didn't take any of the pain away, though. Three of his crew had volunteered to stay on Dandi, to make room for a few more eggs.
"It's the best we could have hoped for... whoever they are."
John and Linda Nguyen slapped controls and spun away to starboard. A thundering rumble crashed through their seats, as Taylor Chen's yacht nearby was shredded by a Ravager laser.
"What the hell, FRED?"
"Sorry," replied the AI. "It really was that close."
"Well, turn it down," Linda chided as she flipped the ship to a different vector, "We do need the feedback, but we need our hearing too. And we don't want to wake Tina."
"Of course." FRED replied.
"Did Taylor make it?" asked John.
"Unlikely. We can check later."
"How's our vector?"
"Nominal. Past-arc. No factor."
"Let's gun it."
Linda and John shared a feral grin.
Guides-to-Bargains frowned at the tank, unable to understand exactly what was happening. The second fleet were engaging the Ravagers mindlessly, swarming in that odd, clumpy manner that didn't seem to accomplish anything other than draw cruiser fire and vanish in clouds of debris.
This is the part where no one believes me. Because to believe this, you have to know about humans. And maybe not even then.
It was many years later that someone explained the human tactics to Guides-to-Bargains in a way that he could understand it. And that started by explaining a game called American Football.
There is a single player who has a ball. If that player on your team is not caught, and reaches a place called "the goal," then you win points. In the game, you play over and over again for a length of time. If you win enough points, you win the game.
In that battle, the first of Dandi, on the living side, the balls were missiles. The goals were Ravager ships. Simple enough. And the humans were running for all the goals at the same time.
But there weren't enough balls.
If the enemy stops the guy with the ball, then they win.
So there's one other strategy the humans have, called a "blitz". All the players run and push, to keep the other team from getting to the guy with the ball.
And that's what they did. Ship after ship clumped in front of the ones with the missiles. Ship after ship, blown apart, to get the few armed ships close enough that the Ravagers couldn't dodge.
We don't have all the names. There were so many, we don't have all the names.
I'm sorry. Just a minute. This part always gets to me. The part about the names.
It didn't make sense to Guides-to-Bargains. So it didn't make sense to the Ravagers either. They had no way to understand what they faced... until it was too late.
Explosions blossomed almost simultaneously on three of the cruisers, then the fourth, less than five seconds later. They weren't destroyed, but it was crippling damage. Enough.
And the remainder of the human fleet continued on by, vectoring in on the tenders.
At that moment, the captain saw it. The cruisers and other ships had minor self-repair capability, but the tenders were what constructed and repaired everything else. If they were gone, then the invasion would be set back by weeks, until another Ravager fleet with tenders arrived, or one of the miners could construct enough components for a tender bay.
The humans didn't care about the cruisers at all. The warships were just a speed bump on the way to the tenders.
"How we doing, FRED?"
"On vector. Estimating... yeah, they'll get the tenders."
"Good news. Steady on, then."
"Light cruiser three is still maneuvering. That could be a problem."
"How big?" Linda asked. At the same time John asked, "For whom?"
"Its coming about to bear on Hussein... Sanchez blocked it. I have his beacon."
"Go, Sanchez."
"Go, Hussein."
"Hussein's missiles are away. Tender is chunky.".
They both stifled their cheers just in time, Linda reaching back to gently rock Tina's cradle.
"Hussein's... gone. Kimura's gone. Sasaki's missiles away. Hit. Tender 2 is crippled. Sasaki is veering off, jinking, looks good. He has five wingmen and two missiles. Looks like Jane and Diane are in that bunch."
John took in a breath, let it out, and then nodded. "How long we have on vector?"
"Fifteen minutes. Ish."
"Good job. The landers don't have ship to ship. Don't bet on the miners, though."
"Mining lasers at the very least. Sanchez's beacon just went dark. I'd guess on purpose. Oh... interesting."
"Yes?"
"Incoming hail."
Captain Guides-to-Bargains of the cargo ship We Deliver Safely had nothing to offer but thanks, but he would be damned if he didn't at least give that to the saviors of the few thousand refugees that were on his ship and others.
If he could only understand the creatures that he was seeing.
There were two of them, the first wearing a fairly standard-looking space suit, for an arboreal biped. The helmet was currently off, so Guides-to-Bargains could see friendly blue eyes, caramel skin, a mop of coarse black fur on top, and some stubble on the jaw that probably indicated a social habit of shaving it to match the nakedness of the rest of the face.
The second one was roughly the same, except suffering from some abnormality that meant it couldn't fit all the way into a suit. Long blonde hair cascaded down from the top of its head - no stubble there, so maybe another subspecies. One arm was cradling across the bulging shape of a pulsating gland in a manner that looked...
"Absolutely," said the AI translation, approximating the voice of the male. "I'm John, that's Linda, and the hungry little lady is Tina."
With that clue, Guides-to-Bargains was able to resolve the pulsations into a wiggly miniature or larval form of the adults, and the blonde was probably a female mammal, her suit open to the waist for the process of feeding.
"I am grateful to meet you," Guides-to-Bargains said. "We were unlikely to survive without your help."
The blonde's eyes went cold and hard.
The darker one held a hand back to her, but she didn't have a free one to take it.
"How many refugees on your ships?"
"I suspect six hundred on mine, including children and eggs. Perhaps five thousand all told."
The blonde's eyes closed. Something trailed down her face. She and the darker one, John, shared a look.
"Good deal," said John. "We'll see if we can up that tally a bit."
"Your friends... your fleet... how many of you are there?"
"All told? A couple of hundred. Just your ship makes it a good trade."
"Trade?" Guides-to-Bargains stared at the two creatures.
"Trade?" The alien captain asked.
"Six minutes."
John nodded thanks to FRED as Linda started buttoning, zipping, and folding Tina back into the cradle. It was simple, as those things went, armored and self contained, but there wasn't any guarantee of any kind. Just a chance.
John stared back at the alien captain. Not much time to explain.
"They hit our home. Just a small colony, twenty four million people, all gone before we could drive them off. They took out our space defenses, our little home fleet, our two main cities. They landed those... things."
Linda finished sealing the cradle, and began closing her suit. John leaned across and they did one of those mammal lip things. Linda took over while he replaced his helmet.
"They raided our home. We were just setting up shop, so there were hundreds of us out in the Oort cloud. You know, the big globe of stuff that floats around a star?"
"Our whole job was to bring in rocks and ice balls," John continued. "Some of us. So we did just that. Thousands of them, time on target, and no amount of fire by six cruisers and a few tenders and miners was going to be sufficient to keep them from shattering every bit of infrastructure those machine expletives built on our world."
"Six?" Asked the alien captain.
"When they started out," John nodded. "Four were left when they ran."
"Three minutes."
"Captain, we have five missiles left, and two important targets. If we can kill those miners flat dead, and the boys finish up the tenders back there, then your civvies down on that planet can maybe hold out a week or two. Just get word out, fast. FRED's going to give you everything we got, including where you can jump to meet up with our people. Can you do that for us?"
"Of course."
"Ready to receive? Transmitting now."
"This data is huge."
"That's an update to FRED. You get that anywhere in human space, and he'll have everything we know."
"FRED?"
"Hello," said a different AI voice. "We're about to get busy on those miners, but we'd appreciate if you can carry that along."
"It would be my honor."
"Oh, I like that."
Guides-to-Bargains felt his eyes burning. "Keep them well, FRED."
"If I can."
In the far upspin corner of the tank, a refugee ship winked out. Guides-to-Bargains zoomed the tank to maximum magnification. No debris; that was a jump. Another one flickered and disappeared north and downspin.
He zoomed out again. Ravager vessels were all past-arc and no factor, for all the refugees. Amazing.
Another few minutes or so and he'd reach the jump limit himself. He gestured the navigator and she began spooling up systems, without interfering with the tank's use of sensors. She had already extracted the closest safe human planet out of the data FRED had sent. The course was calculated... laid in...
But they weren't leaving yet. The humans would want to know how it all came out. There was no way they could help, and no way the Ravagers could affect them, but they could damn well stay and witness whatever happened next.
According to Guides-to-Bargains' tank, there was still a tender left in the outer system, picking through the debris, when John and Linda entered lock range of the lander fleet. Five missile traces flew wide, along with two of their defenders. The accompanying ships had been so small, he had mistaken them for echoes.
Guides-to-Bargains held his breath as the tracks continued to swing wide, then he let out a cry as two of them vanished at almost the same moment, along with one of the echoes.
"Expletive lucky shot," said Linda.
"Not luck. Just logic. It looks like we've got them, though. They can't come back to bear before...shit."
"Tell me, FRED."
"Fast burn on all missiles. Impact in three. Two. Damn."
"Damn what, FRED?"
"They borrowed our tactics."
Guides-to-Bargains tuned back down to the fleet approaching high orbit, watching the three remaining missiles and the echo, whatever it was, hone in on the miners. The missiles suddenly accelerated, just as two landers moved to interpose between them and the miners.
There was a cloud of debris.
The navigator made a slight noise for attention, but the captain shushed her.
Six... no, seven landers still operating. One of the miners was spiraling. It was going to hit atmosphere at too steep an angle. The other one was pristine.
And then the defsats opened up.
There were only three defense satellites, and under normal circumstances, they wouldn't have got off a shot before the light cruisers swept them from orbit. But the humans had kept the Ravagers from even contemplating a search for orbital defenses.
Plasma impact on a lander scattered glowing chunks in front of the damaged miner, and the two signals plus another lander coalesced into a pinwheel of flaming debris. A further two landers were hit by plasma and vanished into ionized gas. The echo, whatever it was, impacted a fourth lander, and it wavered, suddenly steeply inclined toward the planet.
The undamaged miner reoriented and wiped a satellite with its mining laser. Two defsats responded with plasma that seemed to lick along the edges of the huge ship without effect.
Not for the first time, Guides-to-Bargains wished he had military sensors.
"Hull damage, sensor damage, they can land but they'll never get back up."
"What about the rest?"
"Two... no, one defsat... no, scratch that. Lander rammed, looks like they're down to one undamaged lander and the miner, plus some odds and ends that haven't resolved yet. Oh, and our merchant buddy is on line."
"Hey, Bargain, thanks for staying to chat."
"My people are in your debt."
Linda and John exchanged a glance. "Well, pay it forward to someone else, and it will get back to us."
The being on the screen looked confused.
"Have FRED tell you about the round Robin. Oh, ready for an update package?"
"Of course."
"Sending now."
"Very well. Data received." The alien made a strange noise. "It almost worked."
"Almost?"
The fierce look was back on the face of the blonde. Linda. The blonde was Linda.
"What do you mean? We're a little busy here," said the AI translation of Linda's voice.
"There is still a tender, and that miner."
"Tender? Where?"
He checked his tank again. There was no sign of the tender.
"It's gone," said the AI. "We'll ask later who took it out."
"You do that," said the male, an edge in his voice. "One missile left."
"We're out," said FRED.
"We have one left," said Linda, that same edge in her voice, eyes hard.
Guides-to-Bargains was confused. "I counted five."
"We count different."
"A missile," Linda explained, "is engines and a bang. We have one set of that left."
Guides-to-Bargains' breath caught in his throat. His eyes turned to the tank, and back to the screen.
Linda turned, set a hand on the cradle behind her. "FRED? How much bang we got?"
"Enough."
"Take care of it."
Those eyes turned back to Guides-to-Bargains, barely discernible through the mist inside her faceplate.
"Y'all give those eggs and babies my love, y'hear?"
The call died.
Guides-to-Bargains stared at the tank a long time, watching the collision; watching debris scatter across the orbital; watching the final lander pick its target and descend; then farther out, watching an injured cruiser limp through a debris field, and watching odd flickering readings among the battle debris.
His hand twitched in the direction of the navigator, but a buzz from the console interrupted the motion. Internal comms. "Yes?"
"Captain, we'll need a decent sized starport with medical facilities and..."
"Report!"
"We have some stress births. Nothing to worry about, much, but they'll need neonatal facilities. And the mothers have a question for you."
We never found out most of the names. There were only three AIs survived the first battle of Dandi, and they didn't know all the folks that came...that...that threw themselves in front of death for us. So, in that generation of Tristan, and a couple of other species, you'll find a whole lot of Johns and Lindas, Nguyens and Husseins and whatnot. Thirty years later, they started morphing the names back towards cultural norms, the way folks do: Jogann and Linthaza are pretty popular, and Nugen and Wooza. And about fifty others, obviously.
But my parents were right there, orphans on that first ship, settling and growing up together, getting all the love in the galaxy, they and their several hundred siblings de guerre. So they got the real names. From the ones we knew. Probably five pairs of John and Linda eventually got married, of one species or another.
Me? When I came along, a half century later, about average for Tristan couples, they named me after their best friend. She was a phenomenal woman, so full of love and exhuberance and energy that, even in her old age, she could run rings around my childish self.
She was found in an elliptical orbit, right where FRED said she would be.
My full name is longer, but you can call me Tina.
submitted by Fontaigne to HFY [link] [comments]
John and Linda were born on a civilian refugee transport at the first battle of Dandi.
Yes, those are human names, and if you knew nothing else about the battle or about the names, then you'd probably think they were human. You would probably think that they must have died soon after that, and it wouldn't be until I told you that they are still alive, over two centuries later, that you knew they could not be human. Looking at my face, you could probably then deduce that they were Tridan, the main race on Dandi. My parents.
Dandi was very fairly small world, and it wasn't really expecting to be attacked. The machines known as the Ravagers had been expected to go slightly downspin and attack AaronThurr first. Thus, when they arrived at Dandi, it was a surprise to almost everyone, evacuations and emergency warnings immediately bled it out into the void, but they had no expectation that anyone was going to arrive in time to even slow down the robotic extermination. A small number of ships that were capable of taking on refugees did so, but even they were not going to be fast enough to escape before the robot armada arrived at the planet. But they did what they must. Took what they could, left what they had to, and prayed.
When a second fleet warped in and established a formation behind the Ravagers, Captain Guides-to-Bargains of the cargo ship We Deliver Safely thought that his ship was going to die a quick and sadly ironic death, given its name. And along with it would die the six hundred children, eggs and pregnant or gravid females he carried.
The first approaching Ravager fleet was typical of their ilk. Two dozen ships was plenty enough to rape and murder a pastoral world, given a typical mix of cruisers, tenders, landers and miners. The cruisers would shatter any orbital defenses and civilian craft, the tenders would fix any damaged ships, the landers would begin the process of establishing beachheads, and the miners would collect materials and scrap and then would manufacture whatever else was needed. This fleet happened to be a bit short, having only four total cruisers, two each of tenders and miners, and a light dozen landers. But then there were the reinforcements.
The reinforcement fleet was a surprise. It didn't make a lot of sense to Guides-to-Bargains, but it was made up of a wide variety of small ships and barely space worthy scrap, like the Ravagers had collected up battle salvage, strapped on engines and moved them with reckless speed to catch up with their vanguard. It would have been more in character, being machine-patient, for them to have stopped in space somewhere and used the tenders to turn that bizarre rabble into a few more of their typical hyper-effective units.
It didn't seem to make sense. But then, Guides-to-Bargains had never heard of humans.
It wasn't until the velocity and delta V on the second fleet crossed over and proved that the fleets would merge before the first fleet reached orbit, that the first fleet began to maneuver in reaction.
Belligerent reaction.
The cruisers, one heavy and three light, reversed thrust and spread out like a claw. The two tenders trailed behind them as its cocked wrist. The eleven landers and the two miners came on.
The second fleet, in response, spread itself out like a lumpy catcher's mitt and accelerated.
Guides-to-Bargains looked at the display tank in his tramp freighter, calculated a moment, and came to a conclusion.
He was going to live. They were all going to live.
He adjusted their heading for a direction that none of the Ravagers would likely catch them before the jump limit, and opened a comm to the entire ship.
"Attention, crew and guests. We have some help, and we're probably going to make it. I have no idea who they are, but they've distracted the Ravager cruisers enough that there's a safe burn vector for us, and for the other refugee ships."
He glanced at the tank to confirm the obvious.
"We're spreading out so they won't get a chance to run more than one or two of us down." His voice dropped, and cracked a bit. "If that."
It didn't take any of the pain away, though. Three of his crew had volunteered to stay on Dandi, to make room for a few more eggs.
"It's the best we could have hoped for... whoever they are."
"What the hell, FRED?"
"Sorry," replied the AI. "It really was that close."
"Well, turn it down," Linda chided as she flipped the ship to a different vector, "We do need the feedback, but we need our hearing too. And we don't want to wake Tina."
"Of course." FRED replied.
"Did Taylor make it?" asked John.
"Unlikely. We can check later."
"How's our vector?"
"Nominal. Past-arc. No factor."
"Let's gun it."
Linda and John shared a feral grin.
This is the part where no one believes me. Because to believe this, you have to know about humans. And maybe not even then.
It was many years later that someone explained the human tactics to Guides-to-Bargains in a way that he could understand it. And that started by explaining a game called American Football.
There is a single player who has a ball. If that player on your team is not caught, and reaches a place called "the goal," then you win points. In the game, you play over and over again for a length of time. If you win enough points, you win the game.
In that battle, the first of Dandi, on the living side, the balls were missiles. The goals were Ravager ships. Simple enough. And the humans were running for all the goals at the same time.
But there weren't enough balls.
If the enemy stops the guy with the ball, then they win.
So there's one other strategy the humans have, called a "blitz". All the players run and push, to keep the other team from getting to the guy with the ball.
And that's what they did. Ship after ship clumped in front of the ones with the missiles. Ship after ship, blown apart, to get the few armed ships close enough that the Ravagers couldn't dodge.
We don't have all the names. There were so many, we don't have all the names.
I'm sorry. Just a minute. This part always gets to me. The part about the names.
It didn't make sense to Guides-to-Bargains. So it didn't make sense to the Ravagers either. They had no way to understand what they faced... until it was too late.
Explosions blossomed almost simultaneously on three of the cruisers, then the fourth, less than five seconds later. They weren't destroyed, but it was crippling damage. Enough.
And the remainder of the human fleet continued on by, vectoring in on the tenders.
At that moment, the captain saw it. The cruisers and other ships had minor self-repair capability, but the tenders were what constructed and repaired everything else. If they were gone, then the invasion would be set back by weeks, until another Ravager fleet with tenders arrived, or one of the miners could construct enough components for a tender bay.
The humans didn't care about the cruisers at all. The warships were just a speed bump on the way to the tenders.
"On vector. Estimating... yeah, they'll get the tenders."
"Good news. Steady on, then."
"Light cruiser three is still maneuvering. That could be a problem."
"How big?" Linda asked. At the same time John asked, "For whom?"
"Its coming about to bear on Hussein... Sanchez blocked it. I have his beacon."
"Go, Sanchez."
"Go, Hussein."
"Hussein's missiles are away. Tender is chunky.".
They both stifled their cheers just in time, Linda reaching back to gently rock Tina's cradle.
"Hussein's... gone. Kimura's gone. Sasaki's missiles away. Hit. Tender 2 is crippled. Sasaki is veering off, jinking, looks good. He has five wingmen and two missiles. Looks like Jane and Diane are in that bunch."
John took in a breath, let it out, and then nodded. "How long we have on vector?"
"Fifteen minutes. Ish."
"Good job. The landers don't have ship to ship. Don't bet on the miners, though."
"Mining lasers at the very least. Sanchez's beacon just went dark. I'd guess on purpose. Oh... interesting."
"Yes?"
"Incoming hail."
If he could only understand the creatures that he was seeing.
There were two of them, the first wearing a fairly standard-looking space suit, for an arboreal biped. The helmet was currently off, so Guides-to-Bargains could see friendly blue eyes, caramel skin, a mop of coarse black fur on top, and some stubble on the jaw that probably indicated a social habit of shaving it to match the nakedness of the rest of the face.
The second one was roughly the same, except suffering from some abnormality that meant it couldn't fit all the way into a suit. Long blonde hair cascaded down from the top of its head - no stubble there, so maybe another subspecies. One arm was cradling across the bulging shape of a pulsating gland in a manner that looked...
"Absolutely," said the AI translation, approximating the voice of the male. "I'm John, that's Linda, and the hungry little lady is Tina."
With that clue, Guides-to-Bargains was able to resolve the pulsations into a wiggly miniature or larval form of the adults, and the blonde was probably a female mammal, her suit open to the waist for the process of feeding.
"I am grateful to meet you," Guides-to-Bargains said. "We were unlikely to survive without your help."
The blonde's eyes went cold and hard.
The darker one held a hand back to her, but she didn't have a free one to take it.
"How many refugees on your ships?"
"I suspect six hundred on mine, including children and eggs. Perhaps five thousand all told."
The blonde's eyes closed. Something trailed down her face. She and the darker one, John, shared a look.
"Good deal," said John. "We'll see if we can up that tally a bit."
"Your friends... your fleet... how many of you are there?"
"All told? A couple of hundred. Just your ship makes it a good trade."
"Trade?" Guides-to-Bargains stared at the two creatures.
"Six minutes."
John nodded thanks to FRED as Linda started buttoning, zipping, and folding Tina back into the cradle. It was simple, as those things went, armored and self contained, but there wasn't any guarantee of any kind. Just a chance.
John stared back at the alien captain. Not much time to explain.
"They hit our home. Just a small colony, twenty four million people, all gone before we could drive them off. They took out our space defenses, our little home fleet, our two main cities. They landed those... things."
Linda finished sealing the cradle, and began closing her suit. John leaned across and they did one of those mammal lip things. Linda took over while he replaced his helmet.
"They raided our home. We were just setting up shop, so there were hundreds of us out in the Oort cloud. You know, the big globe of stuff that floats around a star?"
"Our whole job was to bring in rocks and ice balls," John continued. "Some of us. So we did just that. Thousands of them, time on target, and no amount of fire by six cruisers and a few tenders and miners was going to be sufficient to keep them from shattering every bit of infrastructure those machine expletives built on our world."
"Six?" Asked the alien captain.
"When they started out," John nodded. "Four were left when they ran."
"Three minutes."
"Captain, we have five missiles left, and two important targets. If we can kill those miners flat dead, and the boys finish up the tenders back there, then your civvies down on that planet can maybe hold out a week or two. Just get word out, fast. FRED's going to give you everything we got, including where you can jump to meet up with our people. Can you do that for us?"
"Of course."
"Ready to receive? Transmitting now."
"That's an update to FRED. You get that anywhere in human space, and he'll have everything we know."
"FRED?"
"Hello," said a different AI voice. "We're about to get busy on those miners, but we'd appreciate if you can carry that along."
"It would be my honor."
"Oh, I like that."
Guides-to-Bargains felt his eyes burning. "Keep them well, FRED."
"If I can."
In the far upspin corner of the tank, a refugee ship winked out. Guides-to-Bargains zoomed the tank to maximum magnification. No debris; that was a jump. Another one flickered and disappeared north and downspin.
He zoomed out again. Ravager vessels were all past-arc and no factor, for all the refugees. Amazing.
Another few minutes or so and he'd reach the jump limit himself. He gestured the navigator and she began spooling up systems, without interfering with the tank's use of sensors. She had already extracted the closest safe human planet out of the data FRED had sent. The course was calculated... laid in...
But they weren't leaving yet. The humans would want to know how it all came out. There was no way they could help, and no way the Ravagers could affect them, but they could damn well stay and witness whatever happened next.
According to Guides-to-Bargains' tank, there was still a tender left in the outer system, picking through the debris, when John and Linda entered lock range of the lander fleet. Five missile traces flew wide, along with two of their defenders. The accompanying ships had been so small, he had mistaken them for echoes.
Guides-to-Bargains held his breath as the tracks continued to swing wide, then he let out a cry as two of them vanished at almost the same moment, along with one of the echoes.
"Not luck. Just logic. It looks like we've got them, though. They can't come back to bear before...shit."
"Tell me, FRED."
"Fast burn on all missiles. Impact in three. Two. Damn."
"Damn what, FRED?"
"They borrowed our tactics."
There was a cloud of debris.
The navigator made a slight noise for attention, but the captain shushed her.
Six... no, seven landers still operating. One of the miners was spiraling. It was going to hit atmosphere at too steep an angle. The other one was pristine.
And then the defsats opened up.
There were only three defense satellites, and under normal circumstances, they wouldn't have got off a shot before the light cruisers swept them from orbit. But the humans had kept the Ravagers from even contemplating a search for orbital defenses.
Plasma impact on a lander scattered glowing chunks in front of the damaged miner, and the two signals plus another lander coalesced into a pinwheel of flaming debris. A further two landers were hit by plasma and vanished into ionized gas. The echo, whatever it was, impacted a fourth lander, and it wavered, suddenly steeply inclined toward the planet.
The undamaged miner reoriented and wiped a satellite with its mining laser. Two defsats responded with plasma that seemed to lick along the edges of the huge ship without effect.
Not for the first time, Guides-to-Bargains wished he had military sensors.
"What about the rest?"
"Two... no, one defsat... no, scratch that. Lander rammed, looks like they're down to one undamaged lander and the miner, plus some odds and ends that haven't resolved yet. Oh, and our merchant buddy is on line."
"Hey, Bargain, thanks for staying to chat."
"My people are in your debt."
Linda and John exchanged a glance. "Well, pay it forward to someone else, and it will get back to us."
The being on the screen looked confused.
"Have FRED tell you about the round Robin. Oh, ready for an update package?"
"Of course."
"Sending now."
"Very well. Data received." The alien made a strange noise. "It almost worked."
"Almost?"
"What do you mean? We're a little busy here," said the AI translation of Linda's voice.
"There is still a tender, and that miner."
"Tender? Where?"
He checked his tank again. There was no sign of the tender.
"It's gone," said the AI. "We'll ask later who took it out."
"You do that," said the male, an edge in his voice. "One missile left."
"We're out," said FRED.
"We have one left," said Linda, that same edge in her voice, eyes hard.
Guides-to-Bargains was confused. "I counted five."
"We count different."
"A missile," Linda explained, "is engines and a bang. We have one set of that left."
Guides-to-Bargains' breath caught in his throat. His eyes turned to the tank, and back to the screen.
Linda turned, set a hand on the cradle behind her. "FRED? How much bang we got?"
"Enough."
"Take care of it."
Those eyes turned back to Guides-to-Bargains, barely discernible through the mist inside her faceplate.
"Y'all give those eggs and babies my love, y'hear?"
The call died.
Guides-to-Bargains stared at the tank a long time, watching the collision; watching debris scatter across the orbital; watching the final lander pick its target and descend; then farther out, watching an injured cruiser limp through a debris field, and watching odd flickering readings among the battle debris.
His hand twitched in the direction of the navigator, but a buzz from the console interrupted the motion. Internal comms. "Yes?"
"Captain, we'll need a decent sized starport with medical facilities and..."
"Report!"
"We have some stress births. Nothing to worry about, much, but they'll need neonatal facilities. And the mothers have a question for you."
But my parents were right there, orphans on that first ship, settling and growing up together, getting all the love in the galaxy, they and their several hundred siblings de guerre. So they got the real names. From the ones we knew. Probably five pairs of John and Linda eventually got married, of one species or another.
Me? When I came along, a half century later, about average for Tristan couples, they named me after their best friend. She was a phenomenal woman, so full of love and exhuberance and energy that, even in her old age, she could run rings around my childish self.
She was found in an elliptical orbit, right where FRED said she would be.
My full name is longer, but you can call me Tina.
2024.05.23 03:55 messyelle How much can I sell my MBA M2 base model?
I want to sell my MBA M2 because I noticed it slowing down with the processes I do (too many open tabs when researching for work and simultaneously using 2 Adobe apps) My available space is 58.47 GB. I have an external SSD so I think, maybe it's best that I upgrade to a higher RAM.
Basically, I want to sell it and use that money to buy a new one so I would just add a smaller amount for the purchase.
I have no idea how to price my MBA so can you please help me out? Here are some details about it:
So I have two questions:
submitted by messyelle to macbookair [link] [comments]
Basically, I want to sell it and use that money to buy a new one so I would just add a smaller amount for the purchase.
I have no idea how to price my MBA so can you please help me out? Here are some details about it:
- Price when bought: 1205 USD
- Date of Purchase: October 13, 2022 (1 year and 7 months of use)
- Price now: 1034 USD
- Specs: 8-Core CPU, 8-Core GPU, 8GB Unified Memory, 256GB SSD Storage
- Battery Information: Cycle Count-265, Condition-Normal, Maximum Capacity-89%
- No problems with 30W USB-C Power Adapter MagSafe Charger (just a bit dirty lol)
So I have two questions:
- How much should I sell the MBA M2 for (including the charger)?
- What MBA model and specs should I buy to upgrade?
2024.05.23 03:40 203PR (REPOST - LAST ONE GOT TAKEN DOWN) RECAP - Wednesday May 22, 2024. Investors stood their ground and took today’s punches to the chin. Read below 👇🏼
PLEASE DO NOT ATTACK MODS BECAUSE THE LAST POST GOT TAKEN DOWN I STILL DO NOT KNOW WHO TOOK IT DOWN OR WHY
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
STOP Trying to spread the word. We have enough investors here buying and holding the stock. You guys are risking exposing the stock to day traders and quick flippers who will KILL our hard work.
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
submitted by 203PR to FFIE [link] [comments]
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
STOP Trying to spread the word. We have enough investors here buying and holding the stock. You guys are risking exposing the stock to day traders and quick flippers who will KILL our hard work.
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
2024.05.23 02:59 SmallRadio3125 The fastest way too cook an egg
(Authors Note: I hope you‘ll enjoy the story and do appreciate any feedback on my writing, as I‘m trying to improve it.)
The galatic record association was a galactic council financed, cultural exchange organization, with the goal of bringing species closer together by allowing people of any species to set records in it.
The records were plentiful only restricted by the record setters imagination and the few number of rules such as to be non species specific and furthermore to be undertaken in the galactic standard gravity of 0,87 times g. Lastly all records that are timed need to be done so by an official and independent galactic time taker with a standardized light speed based watch as the speed of light is always constant.
A new species was trying themselves at a very competitive record, that of cooking a „guriji“ egg in the fastest time frame possible. „Guriji“ eggs were a known delicacy among the galaxies mammal as well as reptile species due it‘s chemical make up activating a specific group of taste buds.
This record has been held by the Pot‘h species for a long time as their multi-limbed bodies allowed to more easily control all steps, that were needed to expertly prepare a „gujiri“ egg in the shortest time needed. Adding to that were the Pot’h’s antennas, which allowed them to asses in what stage of cooking the „gujiri“ egg was in by being able to expertly pinpoint the chemicals released in the cooking process to guide their actions with the record standing at an impressive 2 standard minutes, 41 standard seconds and 693 standard milliseconds by the cooking legend „Lor‘l Remz“ being one of the most influential icons in the cooking world of the last twenty galactic cycles.
The new species attempting themselves at the record were a mammal species from a system known as the „Sol“ system with the homeworld with the name of „earth“ and the species name being „Human“.
The specific record competitor was a 52 year old Human named „George Nobel“ his profession was as a university physics professor also having a PhD in Physics with him having written his doctors thesis on the topic of „Energy production through the intrinsic spin of high gravity objects“. The motivation he outlined in a local report covering his attempt was that he „Wanted to test something while also thinking this would influence future human generations to test the limit of what was possible. So it was just killing two birds with one stone.“
His record attempt was done under all rules and regulations of the time. The gravity was the correct 0,89g, species unspecific and conducted under watchful eyes of an official galactic record time taker with a state of the art laser watch near the super massive black hole in the center of the „milky way“ galaxy also know as „Sagittarius A*“.
The record started normally with the cracking of the „gujiri“ egg which was then put in a pan and heated for the first 15 seconds under 50 degrees celsius(122 degrees fahrenheit). All was normal until „George Nobel“ pressed a before unexplained red button on his cooking device as the button was pressed the following two things happened:
Firstly the rest of the „milky way“ galaxy, including the record time taker was sped up to 99,93 percent of light speed, but the cooking area of „George Nobel“ including himself stayed perfectly untouched.
Secondly the „guriji“ egg was cooked in 15,594 seconds according to the laser watch of the time taker, after the universe was slowed down and the station teleported back into the spot it had been before near „Sagittarius A*“
And thirdly all types of time dilation through general relativity no longer count for time based records, though Dr. „George Nobel“ is still known as the fastest „gujiri“ egg cooker of the milky way and has an honorary spot in the galactic records.
(Second Author‘s Note: Time dilation is a real physics phenomenon, that happens when you play with relativistic speeds. Also accompanying it is space dilation as objects shrink and or expand from an observers view, but its all a question of perspective, if you are an outside observer or the observer accelerated to relativistic speed. Anyway internet strangers have a good day.)
submitted by SmallRadio3125 to HFY [link] [comments]
The galatic record association was a galactic council financed, cultural exchange organization, with the goal of bringing species closer together by allowing people of any species to set records in it.
The records were plentiful only restricted by the record setters imagination and the few number of rules such as to be non species specific and furthermore to be undertaken in the galactic standard gravity of 0,87 times g. Lastly all records that are timed need to be done so by an official and independent galactic time taker with a standardized light speed based watch as the speed of light is always constant.
A new species was trying themselves at a very competitive record, that of cooking a „guriji“ egg in the fastest time frame possible. „Guriji“ eggs were a known delicacy among the galaxies mammal as well as reptile species due it‘s chemical make up activating a specific group of taste buds.
This record has been held by the Pot‘h species for a long time as their multi-limbed bodies allowed to more easily control all steps, that were needed to expertly prepare a „gujiri“ egg in the shortest time needed. Adding to that were the Pot’h’s antennas, which allowed them to asses in what stage of cooking the „gujiri“ egg was in by being able to expertly pinpoint the chemicals released in the cooking process to guide their actions with the record standing at an impressive 2 standard minutes, 41 standard seconds and 693 standard milliseconds by the cooking legend „Lor‘l Remz“ being one of the most influential icons in the cooking world of the last twenty galactic cycles.
The new species attempting themselves at the record were a mammal species from a system known as the „Sol“ system with the homeworld with the name of „earth“ and the species name being „Human“.
The specific record competitor was a 52 year old Human named „George Nobel“ his profession was as a university physics professor also having a PhD in Physics with him having written his doctors thesis on the topic of „Energy production through the intrinsic spin of high gravity objects“. The motivation he outlined in a local report covering his attempt was that he „Wanted to test something while also thinking this would influence future human generations to test the limit of what was possible. So it was just killing two birds with one stone.“
His record attempt was done under all rules and regulations of the time. The gravity was the correct 0,89g, species unspecific and conducted under watchful eyes of an official galactic record time taker with a state of the art laser watch near the super massive black hole in the center of the „milky way“ galaxy also know as „Sagittarius A*“.
The record started normally with the cracking of the „gujiri“ egg which was then put in a pan and heated for the first 15 seconds under 50 degrees celsius(122 degrees fahrenheit). All was normal until „George Nobel“ pressed a before unexplained red button on his cooking device as the button was pressed the following two things happened:
Firstly the rest of the „milky way“ galaxy, including the record time taker was sped up to 99,93 percent of light speed, but the cooking area of „George Nobel“ including himself stayed perfectly untouched.
Secondly the „guriji“ egg was cooked in 15,594 seconds according to the laser watch of the time taker, after the universe was slowed down and the station teleported back into the spot it had been before near „Sagittarius A*“
And thirdly all types of time dilation through general relativity no longer count for time based records, though Dr. „George Nobel“ is still known as the fastest „gujiri“ egg cooker of the milky way and has an honorary spot in the galactic records.
(Second Author‘s Note: Time dilation is a real physics phenomenon, that happens when you play with relativistic speeds. Also accompanying it is space dilation as objects shrink and or expand from an observers view, but its all a question of perspective, if you are an outside observer or the observer accelerated to relativistic speed. Anyway internet strangers have a good day.)
2024.05.23 02:56 Suitable_Gap_1458 Plz read i copied and pasted to help get the word out!!!!
RECAP - Wednesday May 22, 2024. Investors stood their ground and took today’s punches to the chin. Read below 👇🏼
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
submitted by Suitable_Gap_1458 to FFIE [link] [comments]
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
2024.05.23 02:48 issai 90+ year old parent with 2 x TIA constantly asking to fly back to their home country halfway across the world. Health & legal / logistical questions
Parent in question is mostly relatively healthy otherwise other than high blood pressure, started using a cane, recent doctor's notes state memory loss & cognitive decline, going in for neuro MRI next week.
They want to fly back to their home country because that's where their parents are buried, to be in the homeland. They also say care is much cheaper over there too, although while currently living in a major metro area in California, there's a plethora of local subsidized care for them available as well that we believe won't hit their wallet too hard.
Anyway- how dangerous would it be for this 90+ year old parent with 2 x TIA in the past year to board a 15+hour flight? (that may take up to 20-24 hours of travel time, with layovers etc.)
Another question:
This parent is married, co-habitate with partner but don't get along at all anymore. Parent in question has a nice monthly pension paying them, and they have assets. Partner wants to stay put rather than move internationally with parent in question.
My siblings and I have very little fluency in the language of the home country, and haven't set foot in for at least 10 years.
Parent has relatives in the home country, but none of us have ever met them, so we lack trust or confidence in them. Parent however believes they'll be in good hands with their relatives over there. Relatives have been encouraging parent to go back to home country due to cheap healthcare.
The last time parent was in that country was about 10 years ago on what was supposed to be 3-4 month trip. They came back 1 month early due to how dirty, polluted, and chaotic the home country is. This isn't specific to their living situation; that country has an entirely different infrastructure & climate than California. They were relieved to come back to "nice, clean & fresh good ol' USA."
However, after a couple years after their last trip there, they started mentioning the desire to permanently move to the home country. This has been going on for several years now. There's been nothing to stop them from doing so. They certainly have the funds, were of sound mind, were walking 10-15 miles / week without assistance. Just never had the initiative to do so. (Same attitude with a ton of other "things to do": proceeding with replacing the really old roof on their house, re-painting the house, mending relationship with partner. All hat, no cattle.)
My siblings and I are already have a tough time navigating and balancing needs and wants for our parents' aging process (they did the bare minimum with aging planning, and we're cramming playing catch-up recently); let alone having to understand how things work in a different country, translating everything, possibly making several more 15-20 hour trips than planned to attend to certain matters over the next few years, etc.
Not sure if it matters, but both parents have assigned us as independent agents according for POA's.
If parent in question decides to fly to home country, are my siblings and I overthinking the potential disaster of decision-making, finances, and logistics as parent ages overseas?
At least if parent in question stays in the US, we'd be able to visit more frequently (which we've already started doing) or even move much closer as needs increase, help manage both parents' finances equitably (they've asked us to jump in), help navigate options, etc., and do so within the same timezone.
I've spoken to a few friends whose parents are from the same home country, with much more cohesive and amicable family dynamics than ours, who have either already gone through a similar arrangement or are facing it. They've predominantly have said that it'd be a huge hassle with their parents aging in that home country while they're in the US.
Has anyone gone through a similar situation? How did you deal with it?
PS: Apologies for the lack of more specific nouns and pronouns that may make reading my posts awkward. Trying to balance between providing enough details but I'm suspicious of some relatives lurking here.
submitted by issai to AgingParents [link] [comments]
They want to fly back to their home country because that's where their parents are buried, to be in the homeland. They also say care is much cheaper over there too, although while currently living in a major metro area in California, there's a plethora of local subsidized care for them available as well that we believe won't hit their wallet too hard.
Anyway- how dangerous would it be for this 90+ year old parent with 2 x TIA in the past year to board a 15+hour flight? (that may take up to 20-24 hours of travel time, with layovers etc.)
Another question:
This parent is married, co-habitate with partner but don't get along at all anymore. Parent in question has a nice monthly pension paying them, and they have assets. Partner wants to stay put rather than move internationally with parent in question.
My siblings and I have very little fluency in the language of the home country, and haven't set foot in for at least 10 years.
Parent has relatives in the home country, but none of us have ever met them, so we lack trust or confidence in them. Parent however believes they'll be in good hands with their relatives over there. Relatives have been encouraging parent to go back to home country due to cheap healthcare.
The last time parent was in that country was about 10 years ago on what was supposed to be 3-4 month trip. They came back 1 month early due to how dirty, polluted, and chaotic the home country is. This isn't specific to their living situation; that country has an entirely different infrastructure & climate than California. They were relieved to come back to "nice, clean & fresh good ol' USA."
However, after a couple years after their last trip there, they started mentioning the desire to permanently move to the home country. This has been going on for several years now. There's been nothing to stop them from doing so. They certainly have the funds, were of sound mind, were walking 10-15 miles / week without assistance. Just never had the initiative to do so. (Same attitude with a ton of other "things to do": proceeding with replacing the really old roof on their house, re-painting the house, mending relationship with partner. All hat, no cattle.)
My siblings and I are already have a tough time navigating and balancing needs and wants for our parents' aging process (they did the bare minimum with aging planning, and we're cramming playing catch-up recently); let alone having to understand how things work in a different country, translating everything, possibly making several more 15-20 hour trips than planned to attend to certain matters over the next few years, etc.
Not sure if it matters, but both parents have assigned us as independent agents according for POA's.
If parent in question decides to fly to home country, are my siblings and I overthinking the potential disaster of decision-making, finances, and logistics as parent ages overseas?
At least if parent in question stays in the US, we'd be able to visit more frequently (which we've already started doing) or even move much closer as needs increase, help manage both parents' finances equitably (they've asked us to jump in), help navigate options, etc., and do so within the same timezone.
I've spoken to a few friends whose parents are from the same home country, with much more cohesive and amicable family dynamics than ours, who have either already gone through a similar arrangement or are facing it. They've predominantly have said that it'd be a huge hassle with their parents aging in that home country while they're in the US.
Has anyone gone through a similar situation? How did you deal with it?
PS: Apologies for the lack of more specific nouns and pronouns that may make reading my posts awkward. Trying to balance between providing enough details but I'm suspicious of some relatives lurking here.
2024.05.23 02:40 Obvious_Ad4159 Sand & Steel - Chapter 6: White Maiden
The realization that having the final word may have been bitter-sweet had begun to dawn on Solon, as he sat on a low brick wall near a well at the center of the market. Clearly, people like Vur'z and Sheela, those that spoke English, were hard to come across. On top of the language barrier, the mercenary had another issue. Money. His world or this one, coins were words everyone knew. And he had none of those either.
He tried to hire a guide or ask for directions out of the desert, but the mouths of the villagers were as dry as his pockets. Roaming around the village, trying to avoid attention while pondering his next move, he noticed a good number of people going in and out of a small saloon styled building. The words written on the sign in front were unintelligible to Solon, but from his knowledge of this world, the chances of it being a guild or an adventurer agency of some sort were pretty high. Pushing the doors open, strolling into the main room with the stride of an Old Western gunslinger, Solon threw away any attempts of staying under the radar.
Every head turned to him, analyzing and studying the man that walked through the door, eyes lingering on his prosthetic left arm. The soldier walked over to what he had assumed was the main desk, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the beastfolk woman on the other side interrupted him.
"Igilin! Abatu, pa'ta marez lof." She spoke, he ears perking up and her tail moving around welcomingly. She was a jackal like creature, from what Solon could tell and her hyper behavior confirmed that.
Her voice was high pitched, assaulting the man’s ears with a relentless slew of words he could not understand. The speed of her talk took him down memory lane, reminding him of a toy phone he had a kid, one that made random noises when he'd press a button or say "I love you" at 10 times the speed.
The guild woman kept on talking, now pulling out charts and several guide books, pointing her clawed finger and flipping pages. Solon exhaled loudly, before giving her the thumbs up with his good hand and turning to leave, when something caught his eye. A bullet board on the other side of the room, covered all over with countless quest requests and offers. One paper stood out from the bunch. A large drawing of a beastfolk child, along with several scribbled under which was a nice coin offer. To the mercenary, it was common knowledge that two things were universal on any world. Bounty posters and missing people posters. And this one was of the latter.
He pulled the poster off the board, looking over it once more. The offer indeed was enough to entice any man, just by the number of zeros written on the page. Solon looked up at the sky as if thanking God for the intervention. He'd seed the person on the poster before, the screaming beastfolk boy that Vur'z was transporting in his caravan. Clearly whoever the boy was taken from would pay a pretty penny to have him back. Something did bother him about the situation however. With an offer so lucrative, the was no chance the poster would be left hung for that long without anyone taking on the bounty. Vur'z sons were strong young men, but they were far from an issue when it came to a group of adventurers. That odd suspicion was further solidified by all the stares the man felt drilling into his back. The guild patrols gave him dirty looks as he rolled up the poster and stuck it under his cloak, in his back pocket and went back out on the street to find Vur'z.
Solon wandered the village until sundown, until he finally stumbled across the resting spot for trade caravans. He was hungry and quite in a sour mood, walking over to the wagons without a word. Sedef spotted him first, sending his 3 brothers to go and fetch their father while he tried to deal with the mercenary.
"Solon! Nice seeing you again so soon." Sedef said, walking over to the man.
"Where's your old man Sedef?" Solon asked, walking past the guard.
"He went to fetch supplies from the market. Shouldn't be long before he's back." The young man replied. "Would you like to wait for him here?"
The young man felt uneasy, his own inability to simply tell the mercenary to piss off didn't sit well with him. He was the best hand to hand combatant in his little village, but even with that, Sedef knew that if he were to swing at the soldier, it would end badly. So he swallowed his pride and decided on a more friendly approach.
"Yeah, if you don't mind." Solon sat down, his stomach growling with hunger.
The two men sat in awkward silence for a while, before finally Vur'z appeared around the corner. "Ah, Solon. I see Lady Sheela is not with you. What can I do you for?" Spoke the slaver.
With his mechanical arm, the soldier pulled out the poster and showed it to Vur'z. The other one seemed oddly relieved. "Oh, you're here for that? Sad to say I already handed him over."
Solon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "So, where is it?"
"Come have dinner with us. If you're serious about getting the kid, you'll need some info about where he's been taken and by who first." Vur'z patted the man on the back, inviting him to the wagon.
***
"What's the situation?"
The elven scout turned around swiftly, almost jumping out of his own skin from fright. "My Lady." He placed his hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. "I beg of you, do not sneak up on me that way."
General Eirlys hid a smile, before focusing her eyes towards the squad of invaders walking through the woods, setting up a defense perimeter. The Vatur kingdom has been struggling with containing the invading humans, especially when it came to portal control. Having multiple wild portal gates just outside the borders of the elven forest made it very hard to prevent humans from breaching from the other side. Countless skirmishes had broken out since the humans first captured the largest portal and make it their outposts. The Iron Fortress that blew a hole through the, now almost fully healed, Home Tree still stood tall and was heavily protected. The smaller gates were less guarded so the elves managed to take those back within a few months, as the invading murder apes seemed not too keen on dying over those strategic points.
However, it seemed that the enemy had now set their sight on the second largest gate and begun turning it into an outpost. The worked tirelessly, day and night, fending off occasional elven raid parties sent by the Vatur kingdom with ease. The motion detecting turrets proved to be the biggest issue that elves could not overcome. As soon as they would get within range, even under the cover of night, the machines would mercilessly shower them with bullets until they were gunned down.
Desperate, Princess Claudia requested the presence of the kingdoms most decorated general, Eirlys Atteris. A warrior known for her outstanding strategic prowess, merciless approach to combat and the ability to turn even the spineless of elves into soldiers worthy of serving the kingdom. Within weeks of her arrival, she managed to push the expansion of the murder ape outpost back within range of their turrets and lock them in a stalemate. That gave the elven troops enough morale boost to believe that victory was possible. However, to the general, the behavior of the enemy told a completely opposite story. The human invaders seemed too content to stay within the confines of the stalemate and not expand the outpost further, as they have been doing thus far. Even their establishing of defense perimeters seemed to be oriented around doubling, if not tripling the defenses of the already established outposts borders rather than a preparation for a counter assault.
"They seem to be doubling the defenses again. This is the third day in the row that they turn the portal on. The reinforcements coming through however aren't really numerous. If they are mounting a counter attack, they will need a lot more manpower than this, even with their equipment, to breach into the forest." The scout replied.
"Something doesn't sit right with me about this entire thing." Eirlys thought to herself.
The humans seemed to be moving around, tinkering on some stationary devices, hooking them up to the portal. Most of them that came through the gate didn't even seem like military personnel, if uniform and lack of weaponry was something to based such an opinion on.
"My Lady." A tap on the shoulder interrupted the general from her train of thought. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"I am Amara Lindwysp, I served under Lord Eothen and Lady Claudia." Said the scout.
"And?" Replied the general.
"I have seen this before. The night his Majesty lost his life and her Majesty her legs." Amara continued. "These people aren't soldiers, they are..." She searched her mind for the right word. "Engineers."
"Engineers?" The other scout butted in.
"Yes. That's what the murder apes call them. They are in charge of the equipment. They were there the night the Iron Fortress breached the gate."
"The Iron Fortress..." Mumbled the general, turning her gaze back to the encampment, observing the humans work and set up various equipment. "But this gate is too small for another Iron Fortress to pass through."
"That may be so my Lady, but the devices they are setting up are designed to generate massive amounts of energy to keep the gate open for an extended period of time. I cannot be certain what they are up to, but they are priming that portal to be open for a while. Divines only know what sort of contraption they plan on ushering through it." Amara said.
The look on the scout’s face gave the general everything she needed to know about the gravity of the situation. There was not a single lie in the girl’s words. Something like this should not be dismissed.
"So, what are we to do? You've been there. Tell me." Eirlys said, catching the girl off guard.
"Oh uhm. I don't believe I am fit to advise you on what our best course of action is my Lady." The elf replied, losing her composure for a second.
"Not the time for humility or modesty Amara Lindwysp!" The general said coldly. "You've been there. You best know what went wrong with the assault on the Iron Fortress. Now, for the sake of the kingdom and your comrades, speak."
Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The devices that shoot, they follow movements. Even through rain and fog. Illusion spells don't work them either. If we get in range, they will mow us down before we even can get off a single arrow."
"That I am well aware of. Tell me something that I can actually use."
"Yes, yes, my apologies. Hitting them with explosive spells from outside of their range should do the trick, as they do not appear to track any movement that isn't actual enemy troops. They do not seem to be activated by arrows that fly past them, nor birds or any other critters I've noticed move within their range." The scout continued, trying her best to remember everything she knows about the enemy.
"Devices they are setting up, they're the ones keeping the portal gate open for a long time. If we take out those, it should close before they pull whatever they plan to, through the gate. And I don't see..." She focused her eyes on the encampment, as if searching for something amidst the enemy. "...any warhounds."
"Warhounds?" Eirlys raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes, my Lady. It was a one-armed, one-eyed human that ended the life of Prince Eothen that night. It had a metal left arm. Apparently, those soldiers are called war hounds and are here to exterminate the local population before the larger troops can move in."
"Gods, what a barbaric species. You'd think them demons in human skin, rather than actual humans." The other scout said in shock.
"I see. Do not omit anything scout." The general added.
"That is all I know my Lady." Amara bowed her head.
***
"So, the gladiatorial arena?" Solon asked, leaning against the wall of the wagon.
With his stomach full of food, the mood of the man improved significantly. Vur'z nodded.
"Yes. But don't think you can just whisk the kid away. The arena is situated under the village and it's a pay to enter type of deal. Steep price indeed." Explained the slaver. "And you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb in these parts. There isn't a single human in this village, much less one with your description. Whispers are going around already, about you taking the poster and accepting the quest to find the missing kid by doing so."
The human nodded, rubbing his beard with his good hand.
"And the event orchestrator has a lot of financial influence over the adventurers that are regulars in this village. So, keep your head on a swivel else you might a dagger to the back." The old man warned.
"I see. Well, Vur'z, I'd best be heading now. I'd have for you and your sons to catch strays because of me. Just point me in the right direction and I'll be on my way." Solon got up, shook the man’s hand and dusted off his pants and cloak.
"They are at the Crooked Claw's inn. In the basement, that's where the underground arena is and also where the gladiators are being kept." Vur'z replied, shaking the human’s hand in return. "I wish you the best of luck."
As solon turned to leave, Kopak stopped him. "Here, take this. It's not much, but it'll be of use to you, I hope."
The slaver trader’s son handed an old hatchet to Solon. A simple bone handle with an obsidian blade. The mercenary accepted the gift and placed it on his belt, it would be of use more than just to rely on hand-to-hand combat and his metal arm. "Thanks kid. You boys don't give your old man too hard of a time. So long."
With that, the soldier headed down the street and disappeared out of sight once he rounded a corner.
***
The entire village seemed devoid of life once the sun went down. As the ringed moon illuminated the empty streets, Solon could not help but feel watched. He did not even try to confirm if the feeling was true, knowing that playing oblivious would give his stalker more window to slip up. Following directions given by Vur'z, he eventually found Crooked Claw's Inn. The place was crowded, mostly with adventurers and some village folk, though something about them seemed odd. A good number of them, including the barmaids, seemed to survey the surroundings at regular intervals, as if on the lookout for something.
Thanks to his left eye implant, Solon didn't have to risk getting too close to the windows or doors to see inside, choosing to instead survey from the roof of a small house across the street. The front door was out of the question. Solon waited for the crowd inside to slowly get drunk, before making his move. He snuck behind Inn, slipping inside through the back entrance. Even the vigilant adventurers and barmaids have dulled their senses with hours of alcohol and loud music, so Solon did not have to be too stealthy. As long as he was not in direct line of sight, he didn't have to worry too much. The two cooks he found in the kitchen, since that's the room that the back door lead directly towards, did not seem to care about him being there. One of them sat on the floor, seemingly exhausted, while the other struggled to finish the few remaining orders for the intoxicated, rowdy patrons in the main dining hall of the inn.
Hiding his metal arm under his cloak and his shining left eye under the hood, Solon put his best mute impression, mumbling and making incoherent speech that meant nothing, while waving his right hand in a fighting motion. The cook on the floor took some time to understand what the man was trying to say, before figuring out that the stranger was asking for the entrance to the underground arena. Not wanting to deal with whatever was wrong with the cloaked lunatic in front of them, the cooks simply pointed to the door furthest from them on the left. It was evident they weren't paid enough to care about anything besides cooking. Solon, still engrossed in his acting attempt, thanked them with more mumbling, before rushing to the door and opening it swiftly, disappearing into the hallway on the other side, before any alarm bells went off in the heads of the cooks.
Following the long, thin, barely lit hallway, the mercenary soon found himself in a large room, looking very similar to a prison cell block. The smell of filth and moisture wafted from every direction, assaulting his nostrils. He spat on the ground, so the smell does not linger in mouth, before proceeding to sneak through the almost pitch-black room. Groaning, sniffling and occasional cough would come from different cells, though the majority of them seemed empty. Four torches attempted to light up the cell room, but their fires were dimmed, at the bring of being put out. Not that the darkness was an issue for the soldier, the implant that was replacing his left eye allowed him to see just fine in the dark.
Most cells were occupied by bones and corpses, emaciated bodies that withered away from thirst or starvation. Those that still had living prisoners inside, were occupied by beastfolk. The majority of them being of adult age and in no shape to do anything. Even his presence didn't seem to elicit any reaction from them. What was done to them, he had no idea, but they had clearly given up on life.
"This explains the lack of guards in this area. Even if these guys weren't caged, they still wouldn't even try to escape." Solon thought to himself.
Sounds of cheering and yelling came from outside the room. Finding the door, the soldier peeked through the doorway. There it was, the gladiatorial arena Vur'z spoke about. A pit, lined with something akin to barber wire, with two combatants, clearly beast folk, engaged in bloody hand to hand combat against one another. The seats placed in rows all around the pin were filled to the brim. Solon could recognize a few faces in the crowd, some from market and others from the adventurer’s guild.
With each blow exchanged, the crowd cheered and shouted. Coins pouches were passed around as the spectators made bets who would win. Women, barely dressed, walked around the crowd either passing out drinks or collecting coin from the bettors. Behind the bleachers and the crowd, several more cells lined the walls. Solon crouched, moving slow and low as to not get spotted.
The entire gladiatorial arena had a simplistic designed, working the mercenary's favor. A single hallway with cells lining the walls on one side, filled with that night's combatants, and a wall up to hip height on the other side, allowing a partially obstructed view of the main arena in the center. A single source of light hung above the arena, being the single source of light, not counting a few dim torches on the hallway’s walls. The bleachers wrapped around the pit where gladiators fought. Since all fighters were beastfolk, a ceiling of heavy metal bars was placed where the top of the arena pit met the bottom of the bleachers, to prevent any attempts at escaping of the gladiators from the pit and attacking the audience.
The ring of bleachers served as a divide between the arena pit and the cell hallway. The majority of the guards were nearest to the pit and audience, allowing Solon to sneak through the hallway without much issue, as long as he kept low and quiet.
The battle that was taking place below, from what he could hear at least, was a brutal one. Most likely fought to the death or very close to it. Growling, squealing and cheering all mixed together into noise that perfectly portrayed the brutality of the event. He looked through the bars of each cell, using his eye to quickly scan the captives inside, looking for the kid from the poster. Several cells and still no luck.
"Solon. Pssst SO-LON!" Came an all too familiar voice from the right of him.
Solon snapped his head to towards the source of the voice. In one of the smaller cells stood Sheela. The mercenary snorted, stifling a laugh.
"The almighty Dune Queen. I did not know followers get recruited from inside locked cells." He whispered.
She made a sour face at his mocking statement, before flipping him the bird. Another thing with universal meaning between both worlds. "What are you doing here?" Sheela asked, as he snuck closer to the cell.
"I'm looking for that kid Vur'z was hauling. He's got a pretty decent price for his safe return." Solon replied, quietly pulling out the poster with the kids face on it.
"Oh, and here I thought you've become a do-gooder for the sanctity of your soul." The former genie commented, before pushing her hand through the bars of the cell and pointing down the hallway, in the direction Solon had come from. "The kids over there, he's been roughed up quite a bit, since he didn't want to quiet down. He's still too small for fights, so he's not going in the pit tonight."
Solon nodded, rolling up the missing poster and putting back in his pocket. He turned around to head over to the kid’s cell. "Thanks Sheela."
Before he could properly make even a step, two long arms grabbed him by the cloak and turned him around, gripping him by the collar and holding him still. "Solon, I swear to the 7 divines, if you don't get me out of this cell, I will strangle you to death with my bare hands, right now." Sheela looked down at the man’s smug expression, speaking fast in a single breath, trying to remain whispering despite the desire to obliterate the soldier on the spot. Her golden eyes shining from the darkness, if looks could kill, Solon would be in the great beyond already.
Thanks to his implant eye, the mercenary could see the vein popping on her forehead as she glared at him.
"Alright, alright. I'm just playing with you." The shit eating grin consumed even more of his face, as the smugness in his expression threatened to reach critical levels. The former genie let go of his cloak with an exasperated sigh.
A frown took place a smirk use to be as he examined the lock that held the cell closed. He checked Sheela, from head to toe, making sure she's not in any shape that would hinder mobility.
"What? Now's not the time to be fawning over my looks Tin man." She scoffed.
"I'm checking if you are chained to the wall or anything that could prevent you from running. I can get you out, but it'll be loud. So I'll need you to send it as soon as I open the door." Solon explained, grabbing the cell door with his left hand. He looked up at Sheela, who took a step back and nodded.
His mechanical arm whirred softly before amping up. In a single powerful pull, the old lock gave way and the cell doors loudly swung open while creaking, before hitting bars and making even more noise. Sheela, the second the door banged against the bars, took off running down the hallway in the direction Solon had come from, with the mercenary hot on her heels.
"Four cells down from the entrance door!" She said, swinging the entrance door open and disappearing behind it as Solon kept on running past it towards the cell where the kid was being held.
The audience caught wind of the noise and so did the guards, so the mercenary had to work fast. Grabbing the cell doors and fully tearing them off the hinges, Solon got inside the cell. One quick look to confirm he didn't get the wrong kid and he was got to go.
The beastfolk boy on the other hand, did not share Solon's sentiment when it came to a quick escape. Believing the mercenary to simply be another one of the guards or trainers, he flew into a rage, hissing and screaming at the man, while flailing his arms, prepubescent claws out and ready to cut.
Chanting the same sleep spell incantation, he heard from Vur'z, the soldier approached the hysterical boy. Putting the little beast to sleep with a non-effective sleeping spell and a very effective right hook, Solon tossed the knocked-out boy over his shoulder and dashed outside the cell and towards the door, stopping just long enough to throw the cell door he had previously torn off, at the approaching guards.
***
General Eirlys and her troops were already cutting it close with their planned assault. The portal gate had been open without interruption for almost half a day, with only human engineers running in and out of the portal. Observing them gave some insight at the gates themselves and how they can be used. Watching the same men go in and out multiple times, before suddenly becoming dizzy and throwing up, had Amara realizing that there is a limit to how many times one can go through a portal in a short span of time before experiencing negative effects.
The elves waited for the cover of night to launch their attack, but tension was high. No one knew what the humans were priming the portal for, but as the number of engineers reduced and the outpost seemed to finish with all necessary preparations, Eirlys understood that it all comes down to this moment.
With everyone in position, arrows at the ready, the general focused her magic. Her arrow pulled back as the head of the arrow began to glow while Eirlys chanted to herself. A sharp inhale and the arrow was let loose.
The success, entirely dependent on scout Amara's information, was evident. Striking its mark, which was one of the human motion sensor turrets, the arrow exploded, rendering the device useless.
Humans sprung to action immediately, as the elven troops rushed out the forest, getting in range to let their arrows loose. Eirlys primed a second arrow, same spell, same target, another turret down. With arrow fired, her spell casting and firing increased in speed, taking down the turrets before they could be moved or properly fortified. As the last of them went up in flames, she rushed out of cover to join her troops in storming the outpost.
The generators that powered the gate and kept the portal open were heavily fortified. Her arrows, even with explosive enchantments could not leave even a single dent on them, let alone get to what's inside. So, the second option was to storm and take over the outpost, killing anyone who tries to get in from the other side, until they figure out how to disable the machines keeping the portal opened.
Caught by surprise, humans struggled to ward off the sudden elven attack. Their over reliance on the now destroyed turrets evidently proved to be a massive flaw. However, the elves were still going up against guns, and despite having the strength in numbers and the dark night on their side, not a single one of them has yet managed to get across the defensive walls of the outpost without being gunned down immediately.
Volley after volley of arrows rained down on the outpost, pushing the humans all the way back to the portal gate. This seemed like a victory for elves at last. That was what the general wanted to believe as her troops finally broke through the defense and stormed the outpost. But they were too late.
The portal rippled, as a monstrosity of metal came through it on four legs. Looking at it, Eirlys thought it looked like a spider or a crab of sorts. Then it came, the sound nightmares were made off. The spinning of metal, faster and faster, before gunfire echoed through the night. Not single shots, not burst fire, but a continuous shower of high caliber rounds tore the elves like they were leaves.
"FALL BACK! THEY BREACHED THE PORTAL!" The general screamed, leaping back over the wall, as the second spider like machine started crossing the portal from the other side. On each side a minigun, similar to the ones the turrets had, but larger in comparison. Turrets would gun down their targets, but these would tear them to chunks. Whirring and clamoring with each step it took, the machine moved closer. The general focused her magic, firing enchanted arrow after arrow at the unholy contraption, but her attempts yielded no results.
She finally leapt back over the outpost wall and joined what remained of her troops, as they ran back to the woods for safety, without any semblance or strategy. Just a mad dash in hopes of saving their heads.
The giant metal insect followed, walking through the stone wall with ease. Once more it opened fire, this time aiming at the cover they were running towards. Bullets tore through trees with ease, crushing any hope the elves had when it came to surviving this ordeal. Eirlys stood before it, aiming her arrow at the machine, one last ditch attempt to buy her comrades time to escape.
As the second walking nightmare began breaching the portal, the general experienced overwhelming despair grip her entire being for the first time in her long life. Guns stopped firing for a moment to cool down, the heavy metal leg of the machine raised high and ready to squash her. She fired arrow after arrow, fear and helplessness sinking deeper into her heard every time an arrow would bounce off the hard shell of the machine.
"This is it." She thought.
"I hope at least some of my troops escaped."
Guns sped their rotation up again, preparing to leave only examples, not survivors. Eirlys screamed in fury as the leg of the machine began to drop down on her.
"ENOUGH!" A voice boomed through the night, shaking the ground and the general to her core.
The machine stopped, just for a second, before being hit from the side by a massive rock shaped like a cone. It toppled over, its mechanical cries of death echoing for a while longer as it spilled its black, flammable blood and desperately tried to get back up. Eirlys turned to first to her right, her heart overcome with relief as she witnessed all her troops, alive and well, kneeling on the ground in reverence.
Turning to her left, she dropped to her knees to join them.
"Your Holiness."
Night became as bright as day, while a single person slowly made its way to the outpost. Her entire presence exuding an aura of power and wisdom worth millennia. Glowing like the brightest star, the leader of the High Elves came to the general's rescue in their time of need.
Simply extending her arm and pointing at the portal gate, then clenching her fist while turning her hand, the portal closed, cutting off the second machine that was slowly getting through in half. The energy feedback made the generators explode. Still, despite such an overwhelming show of force, the remaining humans in the outpost still opened fire on her.
The High Elf was not amused in the slightest.
"Perish from my sight, vile vermin." She hissed, before a ball of fire dropped onto the outpost, swallowing everyone in alive whole.
"On your feet General. I have much to discuss with your king, take me to him." The radiant woman ordered.
***
Solon caught up with Sheela, as the pair now ran through the empty village streets with a furious mob of mercenaries, adventurers and village folk coming after them.
"What are we to do? Can't run forever." The soldier said, rounding another corner in hoped of losing their pursuers.
"To the caravan resting area, that might be our only escape." The genie said, grabbing him by the cloak and running with him down yet another alley.
"What happened to the kid?"
"He'll be fine. Just a little headache when he wakes up." Solon assured her, as the boy dangled off his shoulder like a bag of potatoes while he ran.
Finally making it to the rest area, they hopped in the first wagon that seemed empty and was actually still attached to the horse like creatures that pulled it.
"Hiyah! Mush! Move, go. Cmon!" Solon yelled, pulling and moving the reigns that controlled the animals, but none of them bothered to move.
"Ooooh fuuuck!" The mercenary looked over his shoulder at the mob approaching.
Sheela grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into the wagon as she grabbed the reigns.
A deep breath, focusing as best possible to channel her magic, the feeling still foreign and alien to her.
"Ahk'Am! Akash, jan!" The forger genie shouted.
Like possessed, the animals jumped to their feet and began to move. A light jog turned into a mad gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Solon ducked as daggers and bricks flew past the wagon, thrown by the furious arena mob that was now left behind, as the wagon disappeared from sight, heading towards the desert.
"Where do we go now?" Solon asked.
"I don't know. We got out of there safe. As for where next, let's ask the kid when he wakes up." Sheela sighed and sat down.
***
(Hi. I'm back with another chapter. The support from all over is a true delight and really makes me want to keep this series going.
I want to thank Agro Squirrel Narrations for covering some of my work before, so more people can enjoy it. That goes for all other narration channels that have been given my permission to narrate some of my work.
Feel free to check me out on:
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Thank you for your kind and encouraging words, I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them. Have a lovely day.)
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He tried to hire a guide or ask for directions out of the desert, but the mouths of the villagers were as dry as his pockets. Roaming around the village, trying to avoid attention while pondering his next move, he noticed a good number of people going in and out of a small saloon styled building. The words written on the sign in front were unintelligible to Solon, but from his knowledge of this world, the chances of it being a guild or an adventurer agency of some sort were pretty high. Pushing the doors open, strolling into the main room with the stride of an Old Western gunslinger, Solon threw away any attempts of staying under the radar.
Every head turned to him, analyzing and studying the man that walked through the door, eyes lingering on his prosthetic left arm. The soldier walked over to what he had assumed was the main desk, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the beastfolk woman on the other side interrupted him.
"Igilin! Abatu, pa'ta marez lof." She spoke, he ears perking up and her tail moving around welcomingly. She was a jackal like creature, from what Solon could tell and her hyper behavior confirmed that.
Her voice was high pitched, assaulting the man’s ears with a relentless slew of words he could not understand. The speed of her talk took him down memory lane, reminding him of a toy phone he had a kid, one that made random noises when he'd press a button or say "I love you" at 10 times the speed.
The guild woman kept on talking, now pulling out charts and several guide books, pointing her clawed finger and flipping pages. Solon exhaled loudly, before giving her the thumbs up with his good hand and turning to leave, when something caught his eye. A bullet board on the other side of the room, covered all over with countless quest requests and offers. One paper stood out from the bunch. A large drawing of a beastfolk child, along with several scribbled under which was a nice coin offer. To the mercenary, it was common knowledge that two things were universal on any world. Bounty posters and missing people posters. And this one was of the latter.
He pulled the poster off the board, looking over it once more. The offer indeed was enough to entice any man, just by the number of zeros written on the page. Solon looked up at the sky as if thanking God for the intervention. He'd seed the person on the poster before, the screaming beastfolk boy that Vur'z was transporting in his caravan. Clearly whoever the boy was taken from would pay a pretty penny to have him back. Something did bother him about the situation however. With an offer so lucrative, the was no chance the poster would be left hung for that long without anyone taking on the bounty. Vur'z sons were strong young men, but they were far from an issue when it came to a group of adventurers. That odd suspicion was further solidified by all the stares the man felt drilling into his back. The guild patrols gave him dirty looks as he rolled up the poster and stuck it under his cloak, in his back pocket and went back out on the street to find Vur'z.
Solon wandered the village until sundown, until he finally stumbled across the resting spot for trade caravans. He was hungry and quite in a sour mood, walking over to the wagons without a word. Sedef spotted him first, sending his 3 brothers to go and fetch their father while he tried to deal with the mercenary.
"Solon! Nice seeing you again so soon." Sedef said, walking over to the man.
"Where's your old man Sedef?" Solon asked, walking past the guard.
"He went to fetch supplies from the market. Shouldn't be long before he's back." The young man replied. "Would you like to wait for him here?"
The young man felt uneasy, his own inability to simply tell the mercenary to piss off didn't sit well with him. He was the best hand to hand combatant in his little village, but even with that, Sedef knew that if he were to swing at the soldier, it would end badly. So he swallowed his pride and decided on a more friendly approach.
"Yeah, if you don't mind." Solon sat down, his stomach growling with hunger.
The two men sat in awkward silence for a while, before finally Vur'z appeared around the corner. "Ah, Solon. I see Lady Sheela is not with you. What can I do you for?" Spoke the slaver.
With his mechanical arm, the soldier pulled out the poster and showed it to Vur'z. The other one seemed oddly relieved. "Oh, you're here for that? Sad to say I already handed him over."
Solon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "So, where is it?"
"Come have dinner with us. If you're serious about getting the kid, you'll need some info about where he's been taken and by who first." Vur'z patted the man on the back, inviting him to the wagon.
***
"What's the situation?"
The elven scout turned around swiftly, almost jumping out of his own skin from fright. "My Lady." He placed his hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. "I beg of you, do not sneak up on me that way."
General Eirlys hid a smile, before focusing her eyes towards the squad of invaders walking through the woods, setting up a defense perimeter. The Vatur kingdom has been struggling with containing the invading humans, especially when it came to portal control. Having multiple wild portal gates just outside the borders of the elven forest made it very hard to prevent humans from breaching from the other side. Countless skirmishes had broken out since the humans first captured the largest portal and make it their outposts. The Iron Fortress that blew a hole through the, now almost fully healed, Home Tree still stood tall and was heavily protected. The smaller gates were less guarded so the elves managed to take those back within a few months, as the invading murder apes seemed not too keen on dying over those strategic points.
However, it seemed that the enemy had now set their sight on the second largest gate and begun turning it into an outpost. The worked tirelessly, day and night, fending off occasional elven raid parties sent by the Vatur kingdom with ease. The motion detecting turrets proved to be the biggest issue that elves could not overcome. As soon as they would get within range, even under the cover of night, the machines would mercilessly shower them with bullets until they were gunned down.
Desperate, Princess Claudia requested the presence of the kingdoms most decorated general, Eirlys Atteris. A warrior known for her outstanding strategic prowess, merciless approach to combat and the ability to turn even the spineless of elves into soldiers worthy of serving the kingdom. Within weeks of her arrival, she managed to push the expansion of the murder ape outpost back within range of their turrets and lock them in a stalemate. That gave the elven troops enough morale boost to believe that victory was possible. However, to the general, the behavior of the enemy told a completely opposite story. The human invaders seemed too content to stay within the confines of the stalemate and not expand the outpost further, as they have been doing thus far. Even their establishing of defense perimeters seemed to be oriented around doubling, if not tripling the defenses of the already established outposts borders rather than a preparation for a counter assault.
"They seem to be doubling the defenses again. This is the third day in the row that they turn the portal on. The reinforcements coming through however aren't really numerous. If they are mounting a counter attack, they will need a lot more manpower than this, even with their equipment, to breach into the forest." The scout replied.
"Something doesn't sit right with me about this entire thing." Eirlys thought to herself.
The humans seemed to be moving around, tinkering on some stationary devices, hooking them up to the portal. Most of them that came through the gate didn't even seem like military personnel, if uniform and lack of weaponry was something to based such an opinion on.
"My Lady." A tap on the shoulder interrupted the general from her train of thought. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"I am Amara Lindwysp, I served under Lord Eothen and Lady Claudia." Said the scout.
"And?" Replied the general.
"I have seen this before. The night his Majesty lost his life and her Majesty her legs." Amara continued. "These people aren't soldiers, they are..." She searched her mind for the right word. "Engineers."
"Engineers?" The other scout butted in.
"Yes. That's what the murder apes call them. They are in charge of the equipment. They were there the night the Iron Fortress breached the gate."
"The Iron Fortress..." Mumbled the general, turning her gaze back to the encampment, observing the humans work and set up various equipment. "But this gate is too small for another Iron Fortress to pass through."
"That may be so my Lady, but the devices they are setting up are designed to generate massive amounts of energy to keep the gate open for an extended period of time. I cannot be certain what they are up to, but they are priming that portal to be open for a while. Divines only know what sort of contraption they plan on ushering through it." Amara said.
The look on the scout’s face gave the general everything she needed to know about the gravity of the situation. There was not a single lie in the girl’s words. Something like this should not be dismissed.
"So, what are we to do? You've been there. Tell me." Eirlys said, catching the girl off guard.
"Oh uhm. I don't believe I am fit to advise you on what our best course of action is my Lady." The elf replied, losing her composure for a second.
"Not the time for humility or modesty Amara Lindwysp!" The general said coldly. "You've been there. You best know what went wrong with the assault on the Iron Fortress. Now, for the sake of the kingdom and your comrades, speak."
Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The devices that shoot, they follow movements. Even through rain and fog. Illusion spells don't work them either. If we get in range, they will mow us down before we even can get off a single arrow."
"That I am well aware of. Tell me something that I can actually use."
"Yes, yes, my apologies. Hitting them with explosive spells from outside of their range should do the trick, as they do not appear to track any movement that isn't actual enemy troops. They do not seem to be activated by arrows that fly past them, nor birds or any other critters I've noticed move within their range." The scout continued, trying her best to remember everything she knows about the enemy.
"Devices they are setting up, they're the ones keeping the portal gate open for a long time. If we take out those, it should close before they pull whatever they plan to, through the gate. And I don't see..." She focused her eyes on the encampment, as if searching for something amidst the enemy. "...any warhounds."
"Warhounds?" Eirlys raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes, my Lady. It was a one-armed, one-eyed human that ended the life of Prince Eothen that night. It had a metal left arm. Apparently, those soldiers are called war hounds and are here to exterminate the local population before the larger troops can move in."
"Gods, what a barbaric species. You'd think them demons in human skin, rather than actual humans." The other scout said in shock.
"I see. Do not omit anything scout." The general added.
"That is all I know my Lady." Amara bowed her head.
***
"So, the gladiatorial arena?" Solon asked, leaning against the wall of the wagon.
With his stomach full of food, the mood of the man improved significantly. Vur'z nodded.
"Yes. But don't think you can just whisk the kid away. The arena is situated under the village and it's a pay to enter type of deal. Steep price indeed." Explained the slaver. "And you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb in these parts. There isn't a single human in this village, much less one with your description. Whispers are going around already, about you taking the poster and accepting the quest to find the missing kid by doing so."
The human nodded, rubbing his beard with his good hand.
"And the event orchestrator has a lot of financial influence over the adventurers that are regulars in this village. So, keep your head on a swivel else you might a dagger to the back." The old man warned.
"I see. Well, Vur'z, I'd best be heading now. I'd have for you and your sons to catch strays because of me. Just point me in the right direction and I'll be on my way." Solon got up, shook the man’s hand and dusted off his pants and cloak.
"They are at the Crooked Claw's inn. In the basement, that's where the underground arena is and also where the gladiators are being kept." Vur'z replied, shaking the human’s hand in return. "I wish you the best of luck."
As solon turned to leave, Kopak stopped him. "Here, take this. It's not much, but it'll be of use to you, I hope."
The slaver trader’s son handed an old hatchet to Solon. A simple bone handle with an obsidian blade. The mercenary accepted the gift and placed it on his belt, it would be of use more than just to rely on hand-to-hand combat and his metal arm. "Thanks kid. You boys don't give your old man too hard of a time. So long."
With that, the soldier headed down the street and disappeared out of sight once he rounded a corner.
***
The entire village seemed devoid of life once the sun went down. As the ringed moon illuminated the empty streets, Solon could not help but feel watched. He did not even try to confirm if the feeling was true, knowing that playing oblivious would give his stalker more window to slip up. Following directions given by Vur'z, he eventually found Crooked Claw's Inn. The place was crowded, mostly with adventurers and some village folk, though something about them seemed odd. A good number of them, including the barmaids, seemed to survey the surroundings at regular intervals, as if on the lookout for something.
Thanks to his left eye implant, Solon didn't have to risk getting too close to the windows or doors to see inside, choosing to instead survey from the roof of a small house across the street. The front door was out of the question. Solon waited for the crowd inside to slowly get drunk, before making his move. He snuck behind Inn, slipping inside through the back entrance. Even the vigilant adventurers and barmaids have dulled their senses with hours of alcohol and loud music, so Solon did not have to be too stealthy. As long as he was not in direct line of sight, he didn't have to worry too much. The two cooks he found in the kitchen, since that's the room that the back door lead directly towards, did not seem to care about him being there. One of them sat on the floor, seemingly exhausted, while the other struggled to finish the few remaining orders for the intoxicated, rowdy patrons in the main dining hall of the inn.
Hiding his metal arm under his cloak and his shining left eye under the hood, Solon put his best mute impression, mumbling and making incoherent speech that meant nothing, while waving his right hand in a fighting motion. The cook on the floor took some time to understand what the man was trying to say, before figuring out that the stranger was asking for the entrance to the underground arena. Not wanting to deal with whatever was wrong with the cloaked lunatic in front of them, the cooks simply pointed to the door furthest from them on the left. It was evident they weren't paid enough to care about anything besides cooking. Solon, still engrossed in his acting attempt, thanked them with more mumbling, before rushing to the door and opening it swiftly, disappearing into the hallway on the other side, before any alarm bells went off in the heads of the cooks.
Following the long, thin, barely lit hallway, the mercenary soon found himself in a large room, looking very similar to a prison cell block. The smell of filth and moisture wafted from every direction, assaulting his nostrils. He spat on the ground, so the smell does not linger in mouth, before proceeding to sneak through the almost pitch-black room. Groaning, sniffling and occasional cough would come from different cells, though the majority of them seemed empty. Four torches attempted to light up the cell room, but their fires were dimmed, at the bring of being put out. Not that the darkness was an issue for the soldier, the implant that was replacing his left eye allowed him to see just fine in the dark.
Most cells were occupied by bones and corpses, emaciated bodies that withered away from thirst or starvation. Those that still had living prisoners inside, were occupied by beastfolk. The majority of them being of adult age and in no shape to do anything. Even his presence didn't seem to elicit any reaction from them. What was done to them, he had no idea, but they had clearly given up on life.
"This explains the lack of guards in this area. Even if these guys weren't caged, they still wouldn't even try to escape." Solon thought to himself.
Sounds of cheering and yelling came from outside the room. Finding the door, the soldier peeked through the doorway. There it was, the gladiatorial arena Vur'z spoke about. A pit, lined with something akin to barber wire, with two combatants, clearly beast folk, engaged in bloody hand to hand combat against one another. The seats placed in rows all around the pin were filled to the brim. Solon could recognize a few faces in the crowd, some from market and others from the adventurer’s guild.
With each blow exchanged, the crowd cheered and shouted. Coins pouches were passed around as the spectators made bets who would win. Women, barely dressed, walked around the crowd either passing out drinks or collecting coin from the bettors. Behind the bleachers and the crowd, several more cells lined the walls. Solon crouched, moving slow and low as to not get spotted.
The entire gladiatorial arena had a simplistic designed, working the mercenary's favor. A single hallway with cells lining the walls on one side, filled with that night's combatants, and a wall up to hip height on the other side, allowing a partially obstructed view of the main arena in the center. A single source of light hung above the arena, being the single source of light, not counting a few dim torches on the hallway’s walls. The bleachers wrapped around the pit where gladiators fought. Since all fighters were beastfolk, a ceiling of heavy metal bars was placed where the top of the arena pit met the bottom of the bleachers, to prevent any attempts at escaping of the gladiators from the pit and attacking the audience.
The ring of bleachers served as a divide between the arena pit and the cell hallway. The majority of the guards were nearest to the pit and audience, allowing Solon to sneak through the hallway without much issue, as long as he kept low and quiet.
The battle that was taking place below, from what he could hear at least, was a brutal one. Most likely fought to the death or very close to it. Growling, squealing and cheering all mixed together into noise that perfectly portrayed the brutality of the event. He looked through the bars of each cell, using his eye to quickly scan the captives inside, looking for the kid from the poster. Several cells and still no luck.
"Solon. Pssst SO-LON!" Came an all too familiar voice from the right of him.
Solon snapped his head to towards the source of the voice. In one of the smaller cells stood Sheela. The mercenary snorted, stifling a laugh.
"The almighty Dune Queen. I did not know followers get recruited from inside locked cells." He whispered.
She made a sour face at his mocking statement, before flipping him the bird. Another thing with universal meaning between both worlds. "What are you doing here?" Sheela asked, as he snuck closer to the cell.
"I'm looking for that kid Vur'z was hauling. He's got a pretty decent price for his safe return." Solon replied, quietly pulling out the poster with the kids face on it.
"Oh, and here I thought you've become a do-gooder for the sanctity of your soul." The former genie commented, before pushing her hand through the bars of the cell and pointing down the hallway, in the direction Solon had come from. "The kids over there, he's been roughed up quite a bit, since he didn't want to quiet down. He's still too small for fights, so he's not going in the pit tonight."
Solon nodded, rolling up the missing poster and putting back in his pocket. He turned around to head over to the kid’s cell. "Thanks Sheela."
Before he could properly make even a step, two long arms grabbed him by the cloak and turned him around, gripping him by the collar and holding him still. "Solon, I swear to the 7 divines, if you don't get me out of this cell, I will strangle you to death with my bare hands, right now." Sheela looked down at the man’s smug expression, speaking fast in a single breath, trying to remain whispering despite the desire to obliterate the soldier on the spot. Her golden eyes shining from the darkness, if looks could kill, Solon would be in the great beyond already.
Thanks to his implant eye, the mercenary could see the vein popping on her forehead as she glared at him.
"Alright, alright. I'm just playing with you." The shit eating grin consumed even more of his face, as the smugness in his expression threatened to reach critical levels. The former genie let go of his cloak with an exasperated sigh.
A frown took place a smirk use to be as he examined the lock that held the cell closed. He checked Sheela, from head to toe, making sure she's not in any shape that would hinder mobility.
"What? Now's not the time to be fawning over my looks Tin man." She scoffed.
"I'm checking if you are chained to the wall or anything that could prevent you from running. I can get you out, but it'll be loud. So I'll need you to send it as soon as I open the door." Solon explained, grabbing the cell door with his left hand. He looked up at Sheela, who took a step back and nodded.
His mechanical arm whirred softly before amping up. In a single powerful pull, the old lock gave way and the cell doors loudly swung open while creaking, before hitting bars and making even more noise. Sheela, the second the door banged against the bars, took off running down the hallway in the direction Solon had come from, with the mercenary hot on her heels.
"Four cells down from the entrance door!" She said, swinging the entrance door open and disappearing behind it as Solon kept on running past it towards the cell where the kid was being held.
The audience caught wind of the noise and so did the guards, so the mercenary had to work fast. Grabbing the cell doors and fully tearing them off the hinges, Solon got inside the cell. One quick look to confirm he didn't get the wrong kid and he was got to go.
The beastfolk boy on the other hand, did not share Solon's sentiment when it came to a quick escape. Believing the mercenary to simply be another one of the guards or trainers, he flew into a rage, hissing and screaming at the man, while flailing his arms, prepubescent claws out and ready to cut.
Chanting the same sleep spell incantation, he heard from Vur'z, the soldier approached the hysterical boy. Putting the little beast to sleep with a non-effective sleeping spell and a very effective right hook, Solon tossed the knocked-out boy over his shoulder and dashed outside the cell and towards the door, stopping just long enough to throw the cell door he had previously torn off, at the approaching guards.
***
General Eirlys and her troops were already cutting it close with their planned assault. The portal gate had been open without interruption for almost half a day, with only human engineers running in and out of the portal. Observing them gave some insight at the gates themselves and how they can be used. Watching the same men go in and out multiple times, before suddenly becoming dizzy and throwing up, had Amara realizing that there is a limit to how many times one can go through a portal in a short span of time before experiencing negative effects.
The elves waited for the cover of night to launch their attack, but tension was high. No one knew what the humans were priming the portal for, but as the number of engineers reduced and the outpost seemed to finish with all necessary preparations, Eirlys understood that it all comes down to this moment.
With everyone in position, arrows at the ready, the general focused her magic. Her arrow pulled back as the head of the arrow began to glow while Eirlys chanted to herself. A sharp inhale and the arrow was let loose.
The success, entirely dependent on scout Amara's information, was evident. Striking its mark, which was one of the human motion sensor turrets, the arrow exploded, rendering the device useless.
Humans sprung to action immediately, as the elven troops rushed out the forest, getting in range to let their arrows loose. Eirlys primed a second arrow, same spell, same target, another turret down. With arrow fired, her spell casting and firing increased in speed, taking down the turrets before they could be moved or properly fortified. As the last of them went up in flames, she rushed out of cover to join her troops in storming the outpost.
The generators that powered the gate and kept the portal open were heavily fortified. Her arrows, even with explosive enchantments could not leave even a single dent on them, let alone get to what's inside. So, the second option was to storm and take over the outpost, killing anyone who tries to get in from the other side, until they figure out how to disable the machines keeping the portal opened.
Caught by surprise, humans struggled to ward off the sudden elven attack. Their over reliance on the now destroyed turrets evidently proved to be a massive flaw. However, the elves were still going up against guns, and despite having the strength in numbers and the dark night on their side, not a single one of them has yet managed to get across the defensive walls of the outpost without being gunned down immediately.
Volley after volley of arrows rained down on the outpost, pushing the humans all the way back to the portal gate. This seemed like a victory for elves at last. That was what the general wanted to believe as her troops finally broke through the defense and stormed the outpost. But they were too late.
The portal rippled, as a monstrosity of metal came through it on four legs. Looking at it, Eirlys thought it looked like a spider or a crab of sorts. Then it came, the sound nightmares were made off. The spinning of metal, faster and faster, before gunfire echoed through the night. Not single shots, not burst fire, but a continuous shower of high caliber rounds tore the elves like they were leaves.
"FALL BACK! THEY BREACHED THE PORTAL!" The general screamed, leaping back over the wall, as the second spider like machine started crossing the portal from the other side. On each side a minigun, similar to the ones the turrets had, but larger in comparison. Turrets would gun down their targets, but these would tear them to chunks. Whirring and clamoring with each step it took, the machine moved closer. The general focused her magic, firing enchanted arrow after arrow at the unholy contraption, but her attempts yielded no results.
She finally leapt back over the outpost wall and joined what remained of her troops, as they ran back to the woods for safety, without any semblance or strategy. Just a mad dash in hopes of saving their heads.
The giant metal insect followed, walking through the stone wall with ease. Once more it opened fire, this time aiming at the cover they were running towards. Bullets tore through trees with ease, crushing any hope the elves had when it came to surviving this ordeal. Eirlys stood before it, aiming her arrow at the machine, one last ditch attempt to buy her comrades time to escape.
As the second walking nightmare began breaching the portal, the general experienced overwhelming despair grip her entire being for the first time in her long life. Guns stopped firing for a moment to cool down, the heavy metal leg of the machine raised high and ready to squash her. She fired arrow after arrow, fear and helplessness sinking deeper into her heard every time an arrow would bounce off the hard shell of the machine.
"This is it." She thought.
"I hope at least some of my troops escaped."
Guns sped their rotation up again, preparing to leave only examples, not survivors. Eirlys screamed in fury as the leg of the machine began to drop down on her.
"ENOUGH!" A voice boomed through the night, shaking the ground and the general to her core.
The machine stopped, just for a second, before being hit from the side by a massive rock shaped like a cone. It toppled over, its mechanical cries of death echoing for a while longer as it spilled its black, flammable blood and desperately tried to get back up. Eirlys turned to first to her right, her heart overcome with relief as she witnessed all her troops, alive and well, kneeling on the ground in reverence.
Turning to her left, she dropped to her knees to join them.
"Your Holiness."
Night became as bright as day, while a single person slowly made its way to the outpost. Her entire presence exuding an aura of power and wisdom worth millennia. Glowing like the brightest star, the leader of the High Elves came to the general's rescue in their time of need.
Simply extending her arm and pointing at the portal gate, then clenching her fist while turning her hand, the portal closed, cutting off the second machine that was slowly getting through in half. The energy feedback made the generators explode. Still, despite such an overwhelming show of force, the remaining humans in the outpost still opened fire on her.
The High Elf was not amused in the slightest.
"Perish from my sight, vile vermin." She hissed, before a ball of fire dropped onto the outpost, swallowing everyone in alive whole.
"On your feet General. I have much to discuss with your king, take me to him." The radiant woman ordered.
***
Solon caught up with Sheela, as the pair now ran through the empty village streets with a furious mob of mercenaries, adventurers and village folk coming after them.
"What are we to do? Can't run forever." The soldier said, rounding another corner in hoped of losing their pursuers.
"To the caravan resting area, that might be our only escape." The genie said, grabbing him by the cloak and running with him down yet another alley.
"What happened to the kid?"
"He'll be fine. Just a little headache when he wakes up." Solon assured her, as the boy dangled off his shoulder like a bag of potatoes while he ran.
Finally making it to the rest area, they hopped in the first wagon that seemed empty and was actually still attached to the horse like creatures that pulled it.
"Hiyah! Mush! Move, go. Cmon!" Solon yelled, pulling and moving the reigns that controlled the animals, but none of them bothered to move.
"Ooooh fuuuck!" The mercenary looked over his shoulder at the mob approaching.
Sheela grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into the wagon as she grabbed the reigns.
A deep breath, focusing as best possible to channel her magic, the feeling still foreign and alien to her.
"Ahk'Am! Akash, jan!" The forger genie shouted.
Like possessed, the animals jumped to their feet and began to move. A light jog turned into a mad gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Solon ducked as daggers and bricks flew past the wagon, thrown by the furious arena mob that was now left behind, as the wagon disappeared from sight, heading towards the desert.
"Where do we go now?" Solon asked.
"I don't know. We got out of there safe. As for where next, let's ask the kid when he wakes up." Sheela sighed and sat down.
***
(Hi. I'm back with another chapter. The support from all over is a true delight and really makes me want to keep this series going.
I want to thank Agro Squirrel Narrations for covering some of my work before, so more people can enjoy it. That goes for all other narration channels that have been given my permission to narrate some of my work.
Feel free to check me out on:
Royal Road Scribble Hub Patreon
Thank you for your kind and encouraging words, I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them. Have a lovely day.)
2024.05.23 02:37 203PR RECAP - Wednesday May 22, 2024. Investors stood their ground and took today’s punches to the chin. Read below 👇🏼
⚠️ THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVISE, I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR. ⚠️
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
STOP Trying to spread the word. We have enough investors here buying and holding the stock. You guys are risking exposing the stock to day traders and quick flippers who will KILL our hard work.
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
submitted by 203PR to FFIE [link] [comments]
If you have good knowledge & experience in investing, and you’d like to add onto or correct me on any points I make (with credible sources), please feel free. If you help me, you’re helping everyone else.
Read here for last nights recap - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/Y1pHvI0dxI
Read Here to understand some general information about $FFIE. If you’re new, you will probably benefit from it - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/VtFcywLino
TODAY’S VOLUME - 196.71M 👏🏼
In today’s recap we’ll be straying away from the ape talk a little bit, and using the correct terminology. $FFIE will be the beginning of a lot of your investing journeys, and I want all of you smart investors to be confident and respected when discussing this company, or the stock market in general. Don’t worry, I’ll make it very simple for you to understand. Let’s get into today’s recap 👇🏼
We opened up pre-market hours with a price point of $1.33/share, 0.06 cents (-4.32%) from last night’s after hours close. This means some of you silly people sold your shares. How so? Big investors can only do their dirty work during market hours, 9:30 A.M EST - 4:00 P.M EST. That means during pre-market and after hours, shares that are being bought and sold, are mostly being bought and sold by retail investors. I’d like to remind everyone you only lose what you put in once you sell, and we’re winning this game as long as we keep closing over $1/share. These sales can only be explained by buyers allowing themselves to become emotionally overwhelmed. Please remember, there are investors working to bring you the FACTS and EVIDENCE to keep you confident in your choices. During the pre-market, we saw a dip bring us to a low of $1.22/share between 4-5 A.M. From there we saw a steady climb to $1.36/share at 8:00 A.M. This leaves us room to assume retail investors bought shares as they woke up, or at some point before then they put in a stop order for any price range that we passed through during the dip. This is another clean example of how there are investors in this group HUNGRY to hoard all the floating shares.
From there, however, there was some movement and we opened official market hours at a price point of $1.15/share, and here’s where the market opens for the big investors. We continued to fall all the way down to $1.03 a share. This caused a lot of you folks to panic, but the numbers don’t lie, and the following numbers show that smart investors held, and continued to buy while new guys came in and entered the game at a good price point. In less than an hour, we climbed up quickly to $1.15/share and that’s where the real dog fight began.
Right after the 11:05 A.M mark, we saw a whole lot of back and forth action until around 3:00 P.M. if you were active in this subreddit, this was a scary time for a lot of investors. I’d like to remind everyone, especially if you weren’t here Friday (this was the scariest day we’ll probably see for the time being), that what we saw today was normal, and okay, and it was nothing compared to that day. Once the last hour of the open market hit we saw a quick climb from $1.08/share to $1.21/share, in just the span of 30 minutes! That’s a whole lot of buying going on. We closed the market day at $1.14/share, bringing us one day closer to when the Big Investors have to either buy their borrowed shares back or continue to accumulate interest. This is what you hear a lot of investors refer to when they speak about closing above $1/share for 10 consecutive days. We’ve currently survived Day 5, and we need to survive 5 more. (THESE ARE MARKET DAYS, NOT REGULAR CALENDAR DAYS. SATURDAY AND SUNDAY WONT COUNT AS DAYS) If we’re able to hold above $1/share for 5 more consecutive days then our contributions as investors, mixed in with the positioning that Big Investors are in, will initiate a process known as a short squeeze. 📈
Today went almost exactly how yesterday’s preparation post said it would (read here - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/pGfAKNpTIX ) What’s more, is almost every single one of you investors did your job. You held your already owned shares and waited for dips to put in your buys.
What does this mean for us?
It means the exact same thing it’s meant the last few days. We’ve been doing great, fighting beyond our best ability and Big Investors aren’t happy with us. They’re only going to continuously try harder to knock us off and like it’s mentioned time and time again, the next few market days are going to be extremely psychological, keep in mind emotions have 0 play in the stock market.
What can tomorrow look like?
With us reaching the halfway mark in our 10 day fight, it only means the pressure is on Big Investors. Because of this, Big Investors will try harder than they have been when it comes to getting us to sell our shares. Due to FFIE being placed on the Regulation SHO Threshold list (BIG news, read here to learn more - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/1lGoTBpkFO ), we can take educated guesses and expect to see tomorrow’s market play our side, but absolutely not too different than what we’ve been seeing so far. A lot of smart investors may watch for dipping trends so they can continue to buy at discounted prices. Buying at the absolute bottom of the dip does not help, so try to time your buys for the start of dipping trends!
How do we continue to put up a good fight?
I’d tell you guys, but some smart investors have come out of the shadows to help me AND you. Read this post to see how we can continue to fight hard - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/2VWFrVqUX0
And this one - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/BRe6nOWkqc
STOP Trying to spread the word. We have enough investors here buying and holding the stock. You guys are risking exposing the stock to day traders and quick flippers who will KILL our hard work.
Important things that happened today:
16 Million FFIE shares due to close short positions - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/kMriyB7I61
Few million shares offloaded today - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/qkQeHlqD8y
Tomorrow will be another fight that requires patience and diligence. Continue to look out for one another. If you’re new here, do your homework please, read my links provided, filter the communities posts by top, or just feel free to ask questions.
If you’re new here, new to investing, please, refrain from posting “memes” and unnecessary posts. They only drown out the educational ones from the people trying to help YOU. Please refrain from sharing information that is not credible or fact checked.
We’ve been doing great at helping each other as of late, let’s keep it up.
2024.05.23 01:52 PunkPrincess_02 I sucked this guy on the side of the highway and now I’m looking to suck the next guy. Interested?
I watched the minutes wind down. It’s almost 7:00 pm and the sun will be setting soon. I wait for you at the gate's small parking lot for visitors, when I see an Uber pull up behind me. I realized you’re in the Uber. Not wasting time I decided to turn on my car. You must move fast because I noticed you were already approaching my car.
My back right door opens. I look up at my rear view mirror observing you quickly get in and shut the door. Through the mirror I glanced at your face. You avoid eye contact. Not soon after you break the silence “Drive.” I don’t know if it’s the mystery behind your seriousness, or your deep assertive voice, I become aroused. Your demeanor was different from your lively personality when speaking to you over text.
You’re a southern cowboy newly stationed in El Paso. Stuck in the barracks with no car to get you around. You were okay with me picking you up but you didn’t want to go too far. My home is a 30 minute drive. The only way we could have fun was in my car.
I knew of a few places where we could go. I wanted to ask what distance you’d be open to traveling to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I want this to be a pleasant experience.
We approach the lights near Buffalo Soldier gate. I look back to ask how far you’re willing to go when I notice your head is tilted back, your eyes are closed, and you’re biting on your bottom lip. In your hand is a long, thick, and bright pink dick. It’s a warm evening and my AC is keeping the temperature cool in the car but watching you travel up and down your 9 inch dick makes me feel hot. My mouth waters watching the pee slit glisten with the accumulating cum. The light turns green, and I make a turn to the left.
You must have felt a shift in the car because your eyes were closed but somehow you knew I took a peek. “Tell me what you would do with it.” You quietly request in a calm tone. My mind swirled with dirty thoughts. For a second there I forgot I was driving. Then, the bright red warning lights snap me back into reality.
We approached another set of lights. Next to us was a car with a couple. I look at them wondering if they can see you, then look back at you. You didn’t care. You lubed up your cock releasing a long string of clear saliva on your dick, and kept stroking. I wanted so badly to pull over and taste you.
The light turns green again. “Well…. what would you do with it?” I was in such a trance I forgot to answer your question!!!
I began to describe a perfect scenario where I could have you lay back and you can enjoy a good cock worshipping. I’d want to begin with sliding every inch deep down my throat till my soft bottom lips touched your balls. I’d want to edge you till you could no longer take it. I would hold your stomach down as my lips vacuum up all the cum, leaving your balls emptied.
I was so focused on describing my desire and ideas for pleasing you, I didn’t realize I had driven on to the highway heading east.
My words turned you on. You express arousal with loud moans. A contrast from your quiet demeanor. “Please don’t stop, keep going…”
I let you know how I badly want to pull over and take you in me. You’d feel my warm lips at the tip and then descend downwards till you completely fill my mouth. My hands would grab your balls before placing them in my mouth. My skills would make your blood rush from all over your body. The sensation would travel to the base of your cock, up to your throbbing head, creating a pressure and a need to explode with the thickest cum.
That’s when you warned me, “if you want my cum, you need to pull over now because I’m about to.” I had no choice. I wanted to taste you at the first sight of watching you play with your dick. I quickly pulled over on the side of the spur and jumped back to join you in the backseat. With no hesitation you grab my head and pull me down towards your cock. Your cock slides in my mouth easily from all the saliva that was gathering. You push up towards my face and hold me down with both hands when I feel your cock jerk and unleash cum down my throat. You don’t let me go and I have no choice but to swallow every drop.
Your body collapses and I release your dick from my mouth. Your head is tilted back and you continue to avoid eye contact. I look down and your cock is solid hard with no signs of it getting soft. Then I hear you lick your lips followed by your stern voice asking, “why did you stop sucking?” I was surprised! The load I had just consumed was one of the largest I had ever swallowed. I thought for sure you were done, but I did as you asked.
In our messaging you told me you like a sloppy blow job. My mouth had watered so much watching your dick, I knew I wouldn’t have a problem. I slide your cock deep down my throat and release your cock drenched in saliva. I'm not done though, I go back down and like a monsoon my saliva comes down strong covering your pink head. It's so much you feel the hot liquid reach your balls.
I begin to pump. I suck you fast. I suck you slow. I pay attention and lick your inner thighs. I lick your wet balls and continue pumping your throbbing cock with my mouth. My slobber is all over. You feel the drip of my saliva reach your ass.
I’m focused on pleasing your dick when I hear you ask, “why do you like eating ass so much?” I popped your dick out of my mouth and answered, “because it makes men cum hard.” I return your dick to my mouth when you calmly ask, “then what are you waiting for?”
The sun had finally set. We were surrounded by mostly desert, and fast passing cars on the highway.
You pull off your shoes and pants. You turn towards me and place one leg up on the backseat. At the angle you’re sitting at I can see your curvy cheeks and a split where I would find your hole. I bend down pressing my face against your cheeks. My tongue slithered around looking for your hole. The moment my tongue graced your hole, your body collapsed. You slid down towards me and whisper “fuck…”
I tried my best to penetrate you with my tongue. Unfortunately, the position we were in made it difficult. I could not drive my tongue in your hole. You tapped my shoulder and asked me to hold on. I sat up wondering if you weren’t enjoying it.
You get up and place your body in between the front seats. Then you bend over, balancing and holding yourself up by placing a hand on each seat. From where I’m sitting, your legs are in a wide stance and your ass is right at my face. Your balls hang and the tip of your dick rubs on my car's middle console. “Try and get deeper with your tongue” you tell me.
The lights of passing cars reflect off your smooth and round ass. I grab each cheek massaging and spreading your ass. “Mmm…” you let me know it feels good. My mouth watered, playing “peek-a-boo” with your pink and hairless hole.
I stand up as much as I can, starting from the top of your crack, I release a stream of warm saliva. I watch as it travels down slowly past your hole and then down to your perfect balls. I notice you reach your balls and grab onto some of my saliva before stroking your cock. The clear stream of precum all over my console.
My face travels down to suck on your balls. Just in case you needed more saliva. I drag my tongue making my way up to your hole. Twirling it and pushing my face deep inside your ass. My hands spread out your soft cheeks to make sure I’m getting in there, just as you requested. You begin to moan louder.
I teased your hole with my fingers. I massaged the outside of your hole, placing some pressure. My tongue and finger took turns making gentle dips. The combination must have felt good. I noticed you were stroking harder.
I grab your dick from your hand and pull it back towards your ass and my face. I hold your cock like a hot dog with my left hand, stroking it while I sucked on your head. With my right hand I used my thumb to massage your hole in a circular motion. Your face buried somewhere in front I hear you exclaim, “fuck this feels good!!!”
I return my mouth and tongue to your hole, and I continue to stroke your cock. My tongue swirls all over your backside. I rub your lower back with my right hand as I make out with your ass. You can tell you’re enjoying the rim job because you keep pushing your ass towards my face.
Moments later I hear muffled noises coming out of your mouth.
“I think I’m going to cum”
I couldn’t make out what you were saying.
“What did you say?”
“I think I’m going to cum!!!”
You quickly turned around and sat in the middle console holding on to each seat when I noticed your cock was twitching. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” you shout. I was about to lean over to suck you off when something warm landed on my arm, then my face. I assumed it was cum but I wasn’t sure. That’s when the bright lights of a passing truck illuminated your dick. It was pulsating, shooting ropes of cum all over! I quickly try to capture whatever is left over and clean up whatever cum spilled on you.
You sit there trying to catch your breath. Your head is leaned back and your legs are no longer holding you up. You move over to my backseat. I quietly sit there waiting for you to say something. You put on your pants and then your shoes. Avoiding contact and saying nothing. I wondered if you even had fun. Once you’re dressed, you sit back and wipe your face with your hand. Then there’s a change in your demeanor. I notice you smile. You look around and laugh before looking at me,“there’s cum everywhere. That was fucken hot.”
submitted by PunkPrincess_02 to ElPasoWhores1 [link] [comments]
My back right door opens. I look up at my rear view mirror observing you quickly get in and shut the door. Through the mirror I glanced at your face. You avoid eye contact. Not soon after you break the silence “Drive.” I don’t know if it’s the mystery behind your seriousness, or your deep assertive voice, I become aroused. Your demeanor was different from your lively personality when speaking to you over text.
You’re a southern cowboy newly stationed in El Paso. Stuck in the barracks with no car to get you around. You were okay with me picking you up but you didn’t want to go too far. My home is a 30 minute drive. The only way we could have fun was in my car.
I knew of a few places where we could go. I wanted to ask what distance you’d be open to traveling to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I want this to be a pleasant experience.
We approach the lights near Buffalo Soldier gate. I look back to ask how far you’re willing to go when I notice your head is tilted back, your eyes are closed, and you’re biting on your bottom lip. In your hand is a long, thick, and bright pink dick. It’s a warm evening and my AC is keeping the temperature cool in the car but watching you travel up and down your 9 inch dick makes me feel hot. My mouth waters watching the pee slit glisten with the accumulating cum. The light turns green, and I make a turn to the left.
You must have felt a shift in the car because your eyes were closed but somehow you knew I took a peek. “Tell me what you would do with it.” You quietly request in a calm tone. My mind swirled with dirty thoughts. For a second there I forgot I was driving. Then, the bright red warning lights snap me back into reality.
We approached another set of lights. Next to us was a car with a couple. I look at them wondering if they can see you, then look back at you. You didn’t care. You lubed up your cock releasing a long string of clear saliva on your dick, and kept stroking. I wanted so badly to pull over and taste you.
The light turns green again. “Well…. what would you do with it?” I was in such a trance I forgot to answer your question!!!
I began to describe a perfect scenario where I could have you lay back and you can enjoy a good cock worshipping. I’d want to begin with sliding every inch deep down my throat till my soft bottom lips touched your balls. I’d want to edge you till you could no longer take it. I would hold your stomach down as my lips vacuum up all the cum, leaving your balls emptied.
I was so focused on describing my desire and ideas for pleasing you, I didn’t realize I had driven on to the highway heading east.
My words turned you on. You express arousal with loud moans. A contrast from your quiet demeanor. “Please don’t stop, keep going…”
I let you know how I badly want to pull over and take you in me. You’d feel my warm lips at the tip and then descend downwards till you completely fill my mouth. My hands would grab your balls before placing them in my mouth. My skills would make your blood rush from all over your body. The sensation would travel to the base of your cock, up to your throbbing head, creating a pressure and a need to explode with the thickest cum.
That’s when you warned me, “if you want my cum, you need to pull over now because I’m about to.” I had no choice. I wanted to taste you at the first sight of watching you play with your dick. I quickly pulled over on the side of the spur and jumped back to join you in the backseat. With no hesitation you grab my head and pull me down towards your cock. Your cock slides in my mouth easily from all the saliva that was gathering. You push up towards my face and hold me down with both hands when I feel your cock jerk and unleash cum down my throat. You don’t let me go and I have no choice but to swallow every drop.
Your body collapses and I release your dick from my mouth. Your head is tilted back and you continue to avoid eye contact. I look down and your cock is solid hard with no signs of it getting soft. Then I hear you lick your lips followed by your stern voice asking, “why did you stop sucking?” I was surprised! The load I had just consumed was one of the largest I had ever swallowed. I thought for sure you were done, but I did as you asked.
In our messaging you told me you like a sloppy blow job. My mouth had watered so much watching your dick, I knew I wouldn’t have a problem. I slide your cock deep down my throat and release your cock drenched in saliva. I'm not done though, I go back down and like a monsoon my saliva comes down strong covering your pink head. It's so much you feel the hot liquid reach your balls.
I begin to pump. I suck you fast. I suck you slow. I pay attention and lick your inner thighs. I lick your wet balls and continue pumping your throbbing cock with my mouth. My slobber is all over. You feel the drip of my saliva reach your ass.
I’m focused on pleasing your dick when I hear you ask, “why do you like eating ass so much?” I popped your dick out of my mouth and answered, “because it makes men cum hard.” I return your dick to my mouth when you calmly ask, “then what are you waiting for?”
The sun had finally set. We were surrounded by mostly desert, and fast passing cars on the highway.
You pull off your shoes and pants. You turn towards me and place one leg up on the backseat. At the angle you’re sitting at I can see your curvy cheeks and a split where I would find your hole. I bend down pressing my face against your cheeks. My tongue slithered around looking for your hole. The moment my tongue graced your hole, your body collapsed. You slid down towards me and whisper “fuck…”
I tried my best to penetrate you with my tongue. Unfortunately, the position we were in made it difficult. I could not drive my tongue in your hole. You tapped my shoulder and asked me to hold on. I sat up wondering if you weren’t enjoying it.
You get up and place your body in between the front seats. Then you bend over, balancing and holding yourself up by placing a hand on each seat. From where I’m sitting, your legs are in a wide stance and your ass is right at my face. Your balls hang and the tip of your dick rubs on my car's middle console. “Try and get deeper with your tongue” you tell me.
The lights of passing cars reflect off your smooth and round ass. I grab each cheek massaging and spreading your ass. “Mmm…” you let me know it feels good. My mouth watered, playing “peek-a-boo” with your pink and hairless hole.
I stand up as much as I can, starting from the top of your crack, I release a stream of warm saliva. I watch as it travels down slowly past your hole and then down to your perfect balls. I notice you reach your balls and grab onto some of my saliva before stroking your cock. The clear stream of precum all over my console.
My face travels down to suck on your balls. Just in case you needed more saliva. I drag my tongue making my way up to your hole. Twirling it and pushing my face deep inside your ass. My hands spread out your soft cheeks to make sure I’m getting in there, just as you requested. You begin to moan louder.
I teased your hole with my fingers. I massaged the outside of your hole, placing some pressure. My tongue and finger took turns making gentle dips. The combination must have felt good. I noticed you were stroking harder.
I grab your dick from your hand and pull it back towards your ass and my face. I hold your cock like a hot dog with my left hand, stroking it while I sucked on your head. With my right hand I used my thumb to massage your hole in a circular motion. Your face buried somewhere in front I hear you exclaim, “fuck this feels good!!!”
I return my mouth and tongue to your hole, and I continue to stroke your cock. My tongue swirls all over your backside. I rub your lower back with my right hand as I make out with your ass. You can tell you’re enjoying the rim job because you keep pushing your ass towards my face.
Moments later I hear muffled noises coming out of your mouth.
“I think I’m going to cum”
I couldn’t make out what you were saying.
“What did you say?”
“I think I’m going to cum!!!”
You quickly turned around and sat in the middle console holding on to each seat when I noticed your cock was twitching. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” you shout. I was about to lean over to suck you off when something warm landed on my arm, then my face. I assumed it was cum but I wasn’t sure. That’s when the bright lights of a passing truck illuminated your dick. It was pulsating, shooting ropes of cum all over! I quickly try to capture whatever is left over and clean up whatever cum spilled on you.
You sit there trying to catch your breath. Your head is leaned back and your legs are no longer holding you up. You move over to my backseat. I quietly sit there waiting for you to say something. You put on your pants and then your shoes. Avoiding contact and saying nothing. I wondered if you even had fun. Once you’re dressed, you sit back and wipe your face with your hand. Then there’s a change in your demeanor. I notice you smile. You look around and laugh before looking at me,“there’s cum everywhere. That was fucken hot.”
2024.05.23 01:49 asvpxill $1300 Sunny Room in historic Ocean Hill BK
VIEWING NOW FOR ONE F.E.M.A.L.E NO OTHER PARTIES OR PETS WHATSOEVER
JUNE 1st 6 MONTH SUBLEASE w/ possibility to renew
Must have valid Gov ID & paystubs, proof of savings, direct deposit or cash.
(Excuse photos. Queen bed NOT INCLUDED.) Room can fit a Full/Queen sized bed & even a shelving unit or dressewardrobe. Private closet.
The apartment is myself (the leaseholder) & 1 other female roommate. I am a native New Yorker; multiple generations in. I am a corporate professional, but the house is also 4Twenty and alcohol friendly, on a *mature level.
CRUCIALLY IMPORTANT: If you are laxed in ANY way in regards to cleaning up after yourself please do not reach out. It will not work out. You must have a sense of cleanliness including rotating who scrubs the tub every once in awhile, etc. If you leave dirty thigh marks after using the toilet or any dark footprint residue after using the bathtub, please refrain. Lol, LBVS.
The building is great. All neighbors respect each other's packages and noise levels during the weekdays. The neighborhood is lively and near many parks. Fairly decent parking availability unless you come home at 2am. Zipcars on nearly every corner. Multiple grocery and laundry options within couple min walk.
All utilities included: WiFi, Electricity & Central Cooling/Heating system in the unit.
***Rent will be paid in CASH monthly with official rent receipts given.
***Security Deposit will be paid via a Money Order. ('PLS Check Cashers' sells free money orders in NYC.)
C train to Rockaway Avenue. (1 stop from A express train if preferred.) (Also near Long Island Rail Road station.) Fifteen mins to Downtown Brooklyn. TwentyFive mins to Manhattan.
submitted by asvpxill to NYCapartments [link] [comments]
JUNE 1st 6 MONTH SUBLEASE w/ possibility to renew
Must have valid Gov ID & paystubs, proof of savings, direct deposit or cash.
(Excuse photos. Queen bed NOT INCLUDED.) Room can fit a Full/Queen sized bed & even a shelving unit or dressewardrobe. Private closet.
The apartment is myself (the leaseholder) & 1 other female roommate. I am a native New Yorker; multiple generations in. I am a corporate professional, but the house is also 4Twenty and alcohol friendly, on a *mature level.
CRUCIALLY IMPORTANT: If you are laxed in ANY way in regards to cleaning up after yourself please do not reach out. It will not work out. You must have a sense of cleanliness including rotating who scrubs the tub every once in awhile, etc. If you leave dirty thigh marks after using the toilet or any dark footprint residue after using the bathtub, please refrain. Lol, LBVS.
The building is great. All neighbors respect each other's packages and noise levels during the weekdays. The neighborhood is lively and near many parks. Fairly decent parking availability unless you come home at 2am. Zipcars on nearly every corner. Multiple grocery and laundry options within couple min walk.
All utilities included: WiFi, Electricity & Central Cooling/Heating system in the unit.
***Rent will be paid in CASH monthly with official rent receipts given.
***Security Deposit will be paid via a Money Order. ('PLS Check Cashers' sells free money orders in NYC.)
C train to Rockaway Avenue. (1 stop from A express train if preferred.) (Also near Long Island Rail Road station.) Fifteen mins to Downtown Brooklyn. TwentyFive mins to Manhattan.
2024.05.23 01:38 AntiqueSpare794 Frieren: Beyond Journey's End Season Two Theory
So, we all know that Frieren ended up being popular enough to top Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood on MyAnimeList. It's clearly got a huge cult following, and has defined itself as one of the most cleverly handled subversions in anime in how it takes place after the journey's over, and is about appreciating life and what it has to offer. So that begs the question: When is season two? Well I did some looking around, and there are two things that stand out to me.
What do you guys think? Am I onto something, or is this a flawed hypothesis regarding when we'll get a season two?
submitted by AntiqueSpare794 to anime [link] [comments]
- Frieren season one adapted the first sixty chapters of the manga.
- Frieren has at least one hundred and twenty seven manga chapters as I post this.
What do you guys think? Am I onto something, or is this a flawed hypothesis regarding when we'll get a season two?
2024.05.23 01:28 ecstaticchimera It Would Have Been Our Anniversary Today
In March, since you refused to take accountability and get help, I went no contact and said if you wanted to be a part of my life again you would need at least of therapy with a CSAT before you even spoke to me again. You didn’t care about my safety and comfort, so I had to. Like usual, I tried to get you to chose your path, but you wanted both. You wanted to “be yourself” but also have me as a friend since I wasn’t ok with participating in you using sex as self harm (something you admitted). You also said your true love would be able to cure you of your need for it, so you even know it’s not the true you. I told you that’s now how love works. Love’s a strong motivator, but you need to change you.
The way we met was practically out of a romance novel. We were on a job together, I worked on the office, you on site, and we were on a scattered schedule. It was your day off, but I had to get the details of last minute equipment that was playing tomorrow. You were so annoyed on the phone, but I am great at getting people to like me. Not to toot my own horn, but I am charming and can read a room to know what to say and how to act to get what I need to happen. You loosened up quickly. But it wasn’t just that. We had a quick rapport – effortless. We had an instant bond that I could feel. All my close friends and impactful people on my life I have felt this bond. Like they’re supposed to be there. We didn’t even meet in person for over a month. We texted nonstop and you called “for work” to ask a quick question then chat for twenty minutes. I finally went to the job site to meet in person. It was both awkward and so right. I went back a few times just to hang on your truck. You were so chivalrous, you’d give me your chair and you’d sit on an applebox. You would jokingly show off your ladder collection on the truck.
The last week of the job you called me and formally asked me out. I’d never had a man do that. It was always flirting at a party or a bar and trying to get me home, then maybe he’d see me after. That was one of my rules I set for myself after finding hook up culture to be a way guys took advantage without real effort. A man actually interested would put himself out there and ask a woman out and let her know he liked her. Sounds like a low bar, but it had been two years since I set that rule and you were the first one.
The date was so much fun. We went to a jazz bar, the conversation was easy. We ended up playing shuffleboard. I was kicking your ass – a Midwestern girl knows her way around a shuffleboard. Then you did an amazing shot, it slipped in and knocked both mine off and stayed in play. As if in slow motion we looked at each other roaring in excitement, then both leaned into each other and started making out. We were totally in sync, it was magically. I hadn’t ever had this connection with a guy before.
You took me home. Any new partner for me is high stakes, I’ve had mediocre to bad experiences and only a few good ones. You were sweet and gentle. Liked foreplay, which I had only experienced with Latino and European men. It was always begrudging if an American did it. When we finally got to the main event, you lost your erection inside of me. You were embarrassed, sat back on my bed and started vaping and said “I’ve… been having dick issues lately.” I knew nothing about PIED or even that Porn/Sex Addiction was a thing and just assumed it was the alcohol. But a voice in my head, calm and even toned said “Make note: this is going to be important later.” Like it was stating a fact.
The morning after you made a point to tell me you wanted to see me again, and we did. We didn’t have any more sexual issues – I was having the best sex I’d ever had. I felt free and vulnerable. You seemed to be letting me have the space to open up. I’m guarded and distrustful of men, but you seemed to have the patience to let me come out. You were making sure you let me in your life. You live two hours up north and made a point to visit me regularly. You introduced me to your brother. We were discovering food together, going to baseball games, movies. Having deep conversations, sharing music. You made a point to show me you wanted me in your life, and I was starting to open up and let you into mine. So when I realized I loved you, I decided I would tell you first because you had seemingly been so vulnerable and open with me.
It took a beat, we both went on trips on different weeks, and the tone suddenly seemed different. After us talking and laughing on the phone constantly you told me you actually hated talking on the phone and was like a cold indignant teenager when I called. You seemed disinterested in my things. My trip was for screenwriters and my screenplay won an award. I called you first because I wanted you to know first. You were monotone and distant. Then later you texted me telling me how inspiring I was and now you wanted to write. Which felt good, but disjointed… you never showed interest in writing. Conversely friend when I texted her about the news called me immediately and gushed for a half hour about how talented I was and asked all the details about the event and the award. I don’t need my ego stroked but… I wanted that level of excitement from you.
We finally saw each other again and we went to a football game – I knew how important they were to you and I was happy you wanted to share that with me. We had taken a selfie outside the stadium before the game and when I showed my mom (I hadn’t even told my parents about you yet) she told me how happy we looked. I told you I loved you after your team scored and we were both cheering. The moment felt right. Your bashful smile and the beam in your eyes will be forever burned in my mind. You told me I was drunk. I asserted myself, and told you again. You didn’t say it back, but I didn’t take it personally. Love is a gift. You don’t love someone on terms that they love you back. You would when you were ready.
You were erratic after the game. You said you felt ill. We went straight to bed. I had to work the next day, from home, but it was the second day on a new job. When you finally woke up you were angry, despondent. You asked me if I had time to get coffee. I said sure. In the coffee shop you almost got into a fist fight with the barista because he messed up your order. I was appalled – who was this person? We sat in a park, and you told me you wanted to share something. You started telling me a little bit of your sexual trauma (little did I know it wasn’t even close to the extent of it), and saying how it informed certain sexual interests, and you wanted to pursue them, and we could be friends, I could just let you pursue them on the side, or I could participate. You said you were thinking of just breaking up, or not telling me (like your last girlfriend), “But it’s you”, you said.
I had just told you I loved you, and breaking up over sex felt cruel. And I wasn’t against exploring things sexually… I had friends in my circle who pursued similar interests in a healthy way. But the way you brought it up…. You asked me not to tell anyone… you were embarrassed… then when I said I would be open to it… a switch flipped. You were obsessively talking about your interests. Things that even before this conversation I said I wouldn’t be ok with because they’re “hip” now and I wanted to be open about what I was looking for so we didn’t waste time. And even when I reaffirmed no, you kept bringing it up. The way you spoke about things were red flaggy… it felt obsessive… you spoke about it like when you participated you dissociated. In the act to do it. I had felt a bond with you before, and my gut feeling kicked in with a hard “his is bad”. My friends who were interested in kink had described exploring that as different. More whimsical. Communicative on wants, a chill vibe. You, after obsessively telling me, would shut down and stop communicating. Saying it was embarrassing to talk about and I should just take charge. But then things had to be a certain way. And everything I researched about what you were interested and people in the community… it felt abusive. That I would be playing into your traumas. I voiced that to you, sobbing. You told me the fact I was worried was a “good sign”. Even in the community your behavior was marked as red flags.
After a month of not sleeping and panic attacks, my friends intervened. I told them all your behaviors, my kinky friends told me you weren’t behaving appropriately. One told me she was a sex addict, and I should research it. That it sounded like you fit the type. I broke up with you the next night, my friends on standby with thai food and ice cream. You told me you had been trying to be a better person for me. I told you you never even bothered to read my screenplay.
I did do the research… you had most the “symptoms” of having a sex/porn addiction. The depth of the addiction scared me. I eventually asked to meet. It felt correct, something inside me told me I needed to give you the opportunity to change and offer support. You never had much support in your life. When we did meet, you were receptive. You took ownership. You didn’t realize the scope of what you had done. Some things still didn’t sit right, but I figured since you wanted to change, we would get there. You told me you’d read my screenplay. The next two months there wasn’t much progress. You didn’t want to acknowledge issues, you would get upset when I mentioned that I didn’t like when you interrupted me. We got into a huge fight where I said I was upset and you were angry that I started something on a work night and tried to punish me by saying I wasn’t allowed to come over if you have to work in the morning. I ignored you until you apologized. You suggested maybe we should write letters with issues. So I did. I wrote a letter full of my pending issues and concerns. Red flaggy behaviors that weren’t resolved. How you treated me poorly still. How your sexual behaviors concerned me. How I didn’t feel the way you had treated me before was fully addressed and you didn’t fully take accountability. Things I needed to feel safe. I sent it to you and felt relief. I felt hopeful for some reason.
You responded with a hate letter degrading me and my concerns, telling me I was abusive and condescending. I responded simply with an email that I wasn’t sure, but now I know you are a sex addict, linking to 12 step groups and the resource library and told you you needed a therapist or you won’t get better. I figured I wouldn’t speak to you again. But the next day you texted me telling me you were writing another letter. A better one that addressed more. I said I didn’t think you were going to speak to me again, and you responded “no, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Then I said something about how I felt ignored and you went off via text. For hours. The sun went down and up before you were done texting me and sent me a new letter. A letter that in trying to tell me how I was wrong described perfectly that all my intuition was correct, my assumptions of trauma, abuse, the depths of your fantasy was correct, and that is self harm, but that’s the way you wanted to cope. That you used it to not be yourself. That you were afraid to be vulnerable with me, and just wanted me to tell me who to be so I would love you.
I responded with my hard boundaries, and you respected them. You never responded or tried to get me back. In the letter I pleaded for you to get help, that you wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t. You were worth love and happiness, but the path you were choosing wouldn’t lead there. That if you had to dissociate to participate in sex acts, you weren’t enjoying it. That I hoped I would hear from you again because that would mean you had gotten help. You respected my boundary. You never responded.
After I sent that letter I felt contentment. I still do. I told you I felt a strong bond with you, and I still do. It feels like what happened was supposed to happen, that we met for a reason. Like I told you, I am not sure if that means this chapter is over or the book is closed, but things happened the way they were supposed to.
You never did read my screenplay though.
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The way we met was practically out of a romance novel. We were on a job together, I worked on the office, you on site, and we were on a scattered schedule. It was your day off, but I had to get the details of last minute equipment that was playing tomorrow. You were so annoyed on the phone, but I am great at getting people to like me. Not to toot my own horn, but I am charming and can read a room to know what to say and how to act to get what I need to happen. You loosened up quickly. But it wasn’t just that. We had a quick rapport – effortless. We had an instant bond that I could feel. All my close friends and impactful people on my life I have felt this bond. Like they’re supposed to be there. We didn’t even meet in person for over a month. We texted nonstop and you called “for work” to ask a quick question then chat for twenty minutes. I finally went to the job site to meet in person. It was both awkward and so right. I went back a few times just to hang on your truck. You were so chivalrous, you’d give me your chair and you’d sit on an applebox. You would jokingly show off your ladder collection on the truck.
The last week of the job you called me and formally asked me out. I’d never had a man do that. It was always flirting at a party or a bar and trying to get me home, then maybe he’d see me after. That was one of my rules I set for myself after finding hook up culture to be a way guys took advantage without real effort. A man actually interested would put himself out there and ask a woman out and let her know he liked her. Sounds like a low bar, but it had been two years since I set that rule and you were the first one.
The date was so much fun. We went to a jazz bar, the conversation was easy. We ended up playing shuffleboard. I was kicking your ass – a Midwestern girl knows her way around a shuffleboard. Then you did an amazing shot, it slipped in and knocked both mine off and stayed in play. As if in slow motion we looked at each other roaring in excitement, then both leaned into each other and started making out. We were totally in sync, it was magically. I hadn’t ever had this connection with a guy before.
You took me home. Any new partner for me is high stakes, I’ve had mediocre to bad experiences and only a few good ones. You were sweet and gentle. Liked foreplay, which I had only experienced with Latino and European men. It was always begrudging if an American did it. When we finally got to the main event, you lost your erection inside of me. You were embarrassed, sat back on my bed and started vaping and said “I’ve… been having dick issues lately.” I knew nothing about PIED or even that Porn/Sex Addiction was a thing and just assumed it was the alcohol. But a voice in my head, calm and even toned said “Make note: this is going to be important later.” Like it was stating a fact.
The morning after you made a point to tell me you wanted to see me again, and we did. We didn’t have any more sexual issues – I was having the best sex I’d ever had. I felt free and vulnerable. You seemed to be letting me have the space to open up. I’m guarded and distrustful of men, but you seemed to have the patience to let me come out. You were making sure you let me in your life. You live two hours up north and made a point to visit me regularly. You introduced me to your brother. We were discovering food together, going to baseball games, movies. Having deep conversations, sharing music. You made a point to show me you wanted me in your life, and I was starting to open up and let you into mine. So when I realized I loved you, I decided I would tell you first because you had seemingly been so vulnerable and open with me.
It took a beat, we both went on trips on different weeks, and the tone suddenly seemed different. After us talking and laughing on the phone constantly you told me you actually hated talking on the phone and was like a cold indignant teenager when I called. You seemed disinterested in my things. My trip was for screenwriters and my screenplay won an award. I called you first because I wanted you to know first. You were monotone and distant. Then later you texted me telling me how inspiring I was and now you wanted to write. Which felt good, but disjointed… you never showed interest in writing. Conversely friend when I texted her about the news called me immediately and gushed for a half hour about how talented I was and asked all the details about the event and the award. I don’t need my ego stroked but… I wanted that level of excitement from you.
We finally saw each other again and we went to a football game – I knew how important they were to you and I was happy you wanted to share that with me. We had taken a selfie outside the stadium before the game and when I showed my mom (I hadn’t even told my parents about you yet) she told me how happy we looked. I told you I loved you after your team scored and we were both cheering. The moment felt right. Your bashful smile and the beam in your eyes will be forever burned in my mind. You told me I was drunk. I asserted myself, and told you again. You didn’t say it back, but I didn’t take it personally. Love is a gift. You don’t love someone on terms that they love you back. You would when you were ready.
You were erratic after the game. You said you felt ill. We went straight to bed. I had to work the next day, from home, but it was the second day on a new job. When you finally woke up you were angry, despondent. You asked me if I had time to get coffee. I said sure. In the coffee shop you almost got into a fist fight with the barista because he messed up your order. I was appalled – who was this person? We sat in a park, and you told me you wanted to share something. You started telling me a little bit of your sexual trauma (little did I know it wasn’t even close to the extent of it), and saying how it informed certain sexual interests, and you wanted to pursue them, and we could be friends, I could just let you pursue them on the side, or I could participate. You said you were thinking of just breaking up, or not telling me (like your last girlfriend), “But it’s you”, you said.
I had just told you I loved you, and breaking up over sex felt cruel. And I wasn’t against exploring things sexually… I had friends in my circle who pursued similar interests in a healthy way. But the way you brought it up…. You asked me not to tell anyone… you were embarrassed… then when I said I would be open to it… a switch flipped. You were obsessively talking about your interests. Things that even before this conversation I said I wouldn’t be ok with because they’re “hip” now and I wanted to be open about what I was looking for so we didn’t waste time. And even when I reaffirmed no, you kept bringing it up. The way you spoke about things were red flaggy… it felt obsessive… you spoke about it like when you participated you dissociated. In the act to do it. I had felt a bond with you before, and my gut feeling kicked in with a hard “his is bad”. My friends who were interested in kink had described exploring that as different. More whimsical. Communicative on wants, a chill vibe. You, after obsessively telling me, would shut down and stop communicating. Saying it was embarrassing to talk about and I should just take charge. But then things had to be a certain way. And everything I researched about what you were interested and people in the community… it felt abusive. That I would be playing into your traumas. I voiced that to you, sobbing. You told me the fact I was worried was a “good sign”. Even in the community your behavior was marked as red flags.
After a month of not sleeping and panic attacks, my friends intervened. I told them all your behaviors, my kinky friends told me you weren’t behaving appropriately. One told me she was a sex addict, and I should research it. That it sounded like you fit the type. I broke up with you the next night, my friends on standby with thai food and ice cream. You told me you had been trying to be a better person for me. I told you you never even bothered to read my screenplay.
I did do the research… you had most the “symptoms” of having a sex/porn addiction. The depth of the addiction scared me. I eventually asked to meet. It felt correct, something inside me told me I needed to give you the opportunity to change and offer support. You never had much support in your life. When we did meet, you were receptive. You took ownership. You didn’t realize the scope of what you had done. Some things still didn’t sit right, but I figured since you wanted to change, we would get there. You told me you’d read my screenplay. The next two months there wasn’t much progress. You didn’t want to acknowledge issues, you would get upset when I mentioned that I didn’t like when you interrupted me. We got into a huge fight where I said I was upset and you were angry that I started something on a work night and tried to punish me by saying I wasn’t allowed to come over if you have to work in the morning. I ignored you until you apologized. You suggested maybe we should write letters with issues. So I did. I wrote a letter full of my pending issues and concerns. Red flaggy behaviors that weren’t resolved. How you treated me poorly still. How your sexual behaviors concerned me. How I didn’t feel the way you had treated me before was fully addressed and you didn’t fully take accountability. Things I needed to feel safe. I sent it to you and felt relief. I felt hopeful for some reason.
You responded with a hate letter degrading me and my concerns, telling me I was abusive and condescending. I responded simply with an email that I wasn’t sure, but now I know you are a sex addict, linking to 12 step groups and the resource library and told you you needed a therapist or you won’t get better. I figured I wouldn’t speak to you again. But the next day you texted me telling me you were writing another letter. A better one that addressed more. I said I didn’t think you were going to speak to me again, and you responded “no, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Then I said something about how I felt ignored and you went off via text. For hours. The sun went down and up before you were done texting me and sent me a new letter. A letter that in trying to tell me how I was wrong described perfectly that all my intuition was correct, my assumptions of trauma, abuse, the depths of your fantasy was correct, and that is self harm, but that’s the way you wanted to cope. That you used it to not be yourself. That you were afraid to be vulnerable with me, and just wanted me to tell me who to be so I would love you.
I responded with my hard boundaries, and you respected them. You never responded or tried to get me back. In the letter I pleaded for you to get help, that you wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t. You were worth love and happiness, but the path you were choosing wouldn’t lead there. That if you had to dissociate to participate in sex acts, you weren’t enjoying it. That I hoped I would hear from you again because that would mean you had gotten help. You respected my boundary. You never responded.
After I sent that letter I felt contentment. I still do. I told you I felt a strong bond with you, and I still do. It feels like what happened was supposed to happen, that we met for a reason. Like I told you, I am not sure if that means this chapter is over or the book is closed, but things happened the way they were supposed to.
You never did read my screenplay though.
2024.05.23 01:26 Mortimer_Whimsiwick World Hunger Games: 21st Hunger Games: Rest of Pregames
Training day arrived sooner than expected and tributes dragged themselves out of bed. The only notable incident that occurred was when Kernel (9) accidentally said a trigger word that warranted a sedative for his mentor Tris. All of the tributes arrived at the training center and were all lined up for Training Master Troy van Stomm (victor of the 5th Hunger Games)’s rule breakdown. Troy’s unique approach to the rules was better received than former training master Herod Feldman, so there were no incidents. The one incident that did happen was after the rundown was over when Tusk (10) pushed his partner Tori (10) to get her moving towards the station, causing her to fall down. Troy gave a stern talking to him and dismissed him.
Melonie tried pulling Martin towards the camogie station offering to give him pointers. Martin couldn’t see the point of him trying it as he could damage his prosthetic if he misses. He wanted to go to the survival station instead before gravitating towards the knife throwing station. Melonie relented but insisted they both meet at the knife station near the end of the day to swap info. Martin agreed and the two separated. Martin spent a majority of his time in the survival station. While he was studying edible plants, Genera (5) was walking past on her way to the water fountain. She sneered and said, “At least wear a shoe under that. Then you would look less like a cripple.” Martin stuck his tongue at her and mumbled under his breath. Genera took offense to this and demanded he repeat himself. Martin stood up and described how pointless it was for her to tease him before a death game. Genera scoffed and considered him not only an easy out but a sight for sore eyes, gesturing to all of him. Martin replied, “Even without the leg I bet I could still kick your ass.” Genera stepped towards him but Troy was right behind her. She was dissuaded from instigating further and walked away with a scowl. Martin continued his studies and would find a few other tributes staring at him. No one dared to repeat Genera’s mistake as Troy was standing guard close by. Martin grew bored of his studies and moved to the endurance station. He was on the stairmaster for twenty minutes before moving back to the survival station. At one point, he saw Lycan (7) enter the station. Fearing another confrontation from a bigger tribute, he shimmied himself up one of the trees and just sat there contemplating his situation. A couple tributes noticed this and even Violet (1) was slightly impressed by how fast he climbed up there. Martin stayed up in the tree until Grover left. Martin then moved to the knife throwing station to meet with Melonie.
Melonie’s training experience was much more fruitful. She spent the first 1.5 hours polishing her camogie skills. Her arms grew tired and she went to the leg press machine. During one of her sets, Violet (1) approached and complimented her muscles. Melonie jokingly asked if she knew the unwritten rule of the gym: don’t try to talk to someone while they were doing their sets. Violet was there to offer an alliance as her skills could be useful. Melonie was surprised and asked who else was in the alliance. Violet listed off her partner Merde and the District 2 tributes Atlanta and Cicero. Melonie wanted to meet them first which Violet agreed. The careers were cordial and nice to Melonie, Atlanta calling her “Savannah 2.0”. Melonie asked for pointers on the axe since it’s the weapon most likely to utilize her camogie skills. Merde spent the next hour helping her out until Melonie was able to hit the target. Afterwards, she raced Atlanta and Violet in the obstacle course, making second place behind Violet. Melonie decided to accept the alliance but asked for Martin to join them. Everyone’s faces morphed into a mixture of confusion and disgust. The four thought he had no noteworthy skills based on first impressions and his handicap. Melonie insisted he could be useful and tried to point him out in the survival station. Her case fell flat when they saw him lounging in the tree. Violet declared the case closed and that she should be glad they offered her a spot in the alliance. Atlanta agreed and said that tributes like him always fell in the bloodbath. Melonie tried to bring up the 6th Hunger Games but she fell on deaf ears. Melonie feigned understanding and walked to the knife throwing station.
Melonie greeted Martin and the two began practicing knife throwing. Martin thought it funny yet strategic to ally with the careers. Melonie said she tried to include him but they said no. Martin chuckled and said that was the obvious answer. Melonie considered using her alliance to help ensure his survival in the bloodbath but Martin shot this down. Martin knew her plan was pointless as the careers would try to kill him anyway and no plan on her part would change that. Melonie incredulously asked, “How could you be such a downer all the time?” Martin said that after years of being put down by bullies and the Capital’s oppressive system, you get used to it. He appreciated her kindness but wanted to focus on training. The two continued to practice for the rest of the day with Melonie landing three bullseyes and Martin barely hitting the target by the end. The training assessments came to fruition soon after training day ended. The highest scores belonged to Cicero (2) with a score of 10. Violet (1), Merde (1), Atlanta (2), and Melonie (11) all shared scores of 9. Other noteworthy high scores were Genera (5) with a 8, Lycan (7) with a 7, and Tusk (10) with an 8. Martin was on the low end of the spectrum with a score of 4, tying him with Zera (9) and Calsie (12).
There were congratulatory words for Melonie’s impressive score, Demeter noting it the highest score since Savannah’s score of 10. Martin sulked on the couch and was cleaning his glasses. Savannah told him to not beat himself up over the score and said that Tris Plummer won with a score of 3. Martin countered this by pointing out she won by accident. Melonie asked what was really wrong. Martin felt absolutely humiliated in the assessment and recalled hearing the gamemakers making snide comments and laughing at him while he left the room. Savannah muttered “assholes” under her breath and assured him their opinions didn’t matter. Melonie wondered why it was District 11 of all districts that seemed to be the butt of all the jokes, even admitting one of the judges eyed her down like she was a snack. Savannah explained that their district’s commodities were the most coveted, leaving a smaller percentage for the workers to feed themselves. All that matters to the Capital is that they met quotas, disregarding their well being and work conditions. Martin seconded this and pointed to his leg as proof. Savannah wished she could help everyone but her role as a victor gave her only so much leeway. If she met Martin sooner, she would’ve done everything in her power to help. Martin thanked her and now wished he acted a little different in the parade. Melonie offered to give him pointers for the interview, quoting Savanna “If I could deal with toddlers then the fufu Capitalites should be a walk in the park.” She sat down and worked with him on clever jokes while Savannah spoke with Demeter about costumes.
Interview night was the most highly anticipated event of the pregames as it gave the Capital a closer look into this year’s tributes. Cohosts Artemis Radcliffe and Capricorn Luther spent their opening monologue sharing hopes for a new decade of the Hunger Games and the continuation of the Golden Victor era. Luther was very proud of his protege Balthazar Grimstone and revealed he would get his own exhibit at the Oakley Museum of the Hunger Games. Artemis expressed hopes Grimstone’s fiance Priscilla Cardew would deliver a good games. After the monologue, it was time to speak with this year’s tributes. There weren’t as many noteworthy moments compared to the previous year. The most noteworthy included Atlanta (2) subtly throwing shade at her ex boyfriend Cicero (2) only for him to speak highly of her and lament their breakup. Genera (5) proved to be popular as she had great enthusiasm and had a good back and forth with Artemis. Zera (9) cried for most of her interview, missing her pet goat. Tusk (10) proved to be the most unpopular tribute when his treatment of the autistic Tori (10) was revealed via hidden surveillance. Tusk was sporting a black eye after one particular incident proceeding the assessments courtesy of Sherpa Kapoor (victor of the 16th Hunger Games). Artemis crossed her fingers, hoping the next tribute wasn’t as hostile.
When Melonie was introduced, the crowds gasped in awe. Melonie wore a luscious green dress with ruby slippers and yellow clips in her wavy hair. Artemis fawned over how gorgeous she was and wanted to borrow the dress. Melonie quipped, “And I barely put any makeup on.” Luther told her how everyone was impressed with how she carried herself during the pregames. Artemis guessed she had boys fawning over her at every turn. Melonie blushed and said she had her pursuers but couldn’t possibly choose. When pressed further, Melonie admitted she did have a boyfriend Pablo and he was on the after school camogie boys team. Luther used this to segway into her camogie skills and asked if her time in the Capital helped her catch up. Melonie credited Savannah for her improvements and joked how she was turning into “Savannah 2.0”. When asked about her mentor, Melonie said that she was a good mentor despite being a little closed off. Luther chalked it up to fifteen years without a victor. Artemis commented how despite her beauty and skills, she chose to play daycare instead. Melonie said that she grew to adore children and had years of experience looking after her siblings. She had aspirations to be a teacher full time and have many kids of her own. Luther asked what else she could do if she won the games. Melonie would help spread the outreach of the Hamaguchi Prosthetics and feed the starving children. She felt it unfair that her partner Martin was refused access to a new leg. Melonie told the audience off for cyberbullying Martin, telling them “If you had your leg chopped off, you would be depressed too.” Sensing the tension, Melonie turned this around and hoped everyone would support both of them as there’s more to District 11 than meets the eye. Luther admired her spark while Artemis still wanted to borrow the dress. Melonie was dismissed to great applause and was considered a crowd favorite.
During Melonie’s interview, Martin was repeating some rehearsed lines to himself when his face started to feel hot and itchy. He started scratching at it and went over to look in a mirror. He gasped in shock when he noticed that his face was once again covered in acne, this time much worse especially around the cheeks. He ran over to Savannah for help, who cursed herself for forgetting to notify him that the special cream Demeter gave him was temporary. Martin asked why the problem was worse, her grumbling, “The beauty industry wouldn't be as big as it is if clear skin was a one time purchase.” She searched her handbag and unfortunately couldn’t find anything. Melonie’s interview was wrapping up so she had to think quickly. Martin grabbed a brown paper shopping bag and a small pair of scissors.
Luther called for Martin to come onto the stage. Martin walked out wearing a green three-piece suit with ruffles resembling leaves and a vest that had colored embroidery of different fruit. However, the audience's attention was brought to a humorous sight as Martin was wearing a paper bag over his head with holes cut out for his eyes and a big smile drawn on with lipstick.
Martin greeted the hosts and remarked that they all seemed to look their best tonight, earning a laugh from the audience. Luther jokingly asked if it was really him under there to which Martin sarcastically responded, “No I'm a body double. The real Martin is making a run for it or I guess a hobble for it really.” Luther nearly choked on his Concord Champagne while the audience erupted into laughter. Artemis asked him about his training and if he thought he improved. Martin nonchalantly claimed to feel “as strong as a cart ox”. He felt he now had a chance at winning the games instead of dying at the next quinquennial quell like he thought, earning him another respectable laugh from the audience. When his confrontation with Genera (5) during training was brought up, Martin told the hosts it was a shame that they couldn’t get along and wished they looked for what they had in common, “For example, I have a leg of tin and she has a brain of hay.” This joke earned more laughter but some fans of Genera booed. One of the big questions of the night was shouted from an audience member, asking how he lost his leg. Martin casually stated, “Capital punishment just like the last guys”, referring to Pedro and Arisu of the 6th Hunger Games. Jeers of disdain were heard in that portion of the audience. Artemis claimed sympathy for his plight, but Martin angrily shouted that she was pretending because he was sitting in front of her. No one cared when he was back in D11, accusing the Capital of relegating his status and whole being to a statistic. This statement triggered near deafening boos from the audience. Martin stormed off stage, yelling that he got the message. Artemis assumed it was a sore subject while Luther gave her the stink eye.
After some mediocre D12 interviews, it was time for the Capital to meet the newest Head Gamemaker. Priscilla Cardew was the fiance of Balthazar Grimstone and viewers were blindsided by the style contrast. While Grimstone was into darker colors, Priscilla loved wearing brighter cheerful costumes. She walked the stage wearing a sparkling red dress with rainbow ruffles and diamond slippers. Luther was excited to meet Priscilla, revealing he tried to meet her prematurely but Grimstone wanted to keep her a surprise. After a few minutes of playful banter between her and Artemis, Priscilla was ready to give her gamemaking story. She originally studied under Jasper Deparnieux and was picked out of a raffle since there were countless promising candidates. Priscilla decided that because of the great success Luther and Grimstone had for using themes, she came up with one of her own. When pressed for hints, Priscilla brushed her blonde hair back and said her favorite games was the 2nd Quinquennial Quell (15th Hunger Games), mostly because of the arena itself. Luther guessed she wanted to utilize more urban locations for her games and Priscilla confirmed this. She refused to reveal this year’s arena, promising it would be quite a show.
Martin retired to his room immediately after returning to the apartment. Savannah was indecisive over whether to be impressed or disappointed with Martin’s behavior. Melonie was scared that the Capital would make him a target similar to Tris Plummer, thereby ruining both his and her chances. Savannah assured her that she was overreacting after seeing after-show comments. Viewers were equally torn as they loved the first half but weren’t happy with the slander towards Artemis. Melonie was surprised they ignored his comments about being a worthless statistic. Savannah considered it predictable for the Capital to retaliate against those who call them out on their evil deeds. She brought up Tris’s family (excluding her mother) being executed for the Quelltastrophe. While she had as much reason to hate the Capital as Martin, Savannah had a family to look out for. Melonie found it hard to process as her life was relatively tame compared to theirs. This was all the reason she needed to promise to watch over Martin anyway she could. Melonie knocked on Martin’s door and he opened it. The two talked for almost an hour. Melonie insisted she could find a way to help Martin while still allied with the careers. Martin tried to dissuade her but it was pointless. “The Capital may have given up on you but I haven’t. You are not worthless or just some statistic. You are a person and have just as much a right to live as anyone.” Martin teared up and thanked her for being so kind. The two retired to bed.
The next morning, all tributes were escorted to the hoverjets that would take them to the underbelly of the arena. The arena attire consisted of button up work shirts with district insignia patches, sturdy jeans, and steel toe boots. Melonie was staring at the mirror when Savannah entered the room. The two women embraced and shed some tears. Melonie promised she would do everything in her power to ensure one of them would return and bring glory back to their district. Savannah admitted how nice it would be to not be alone in Victor’s Village. Melonie shrugged and added, “Who knows? We could have District 11’s first Golden Victor.” Savannah didn’t care about that and just pleaded with her to focus on surviving. Melonie stepped into her tube. Meanwhile, Martin was struggling to adjust his prosthetic leg with his boot. Demeter walked in and assisted him. Martin understood that Melonie was the more likely victor, which is why Savannah visited her instead. Demeter said he mattered as well and she would still be happy if he won. Martin chuckled at the thought of a crippled victor. He asked if she had any more of the special cream for his face. Demeter smiled and pulled some out of her purse. She applied the cream to his face and all of the acne completely dissipated. She promised there would be more if he returned. Martin thanked her for all of the help and hugged her before hobbling into the tube.
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Melonie tried pulling Martin towards the camogie station offering to give him pointers. Martin couldn’t see the point of him trying it as he could damage his prosthetic if he misses. He wanted to go to the survival station instead before gravitating towards the knife throwing station. Melonie relented but insisted they both meet at the knife station near the end of the day to swap info. Martin agreed and the two separated. Martin spent a majority of his time in the survival station. While he was studying edible plants, Genera (5) was walking past on her way to the water fountain. She sneered and said, “At least wear a shoe under that. Then you would look less like a cripple.” Martin stuck his tongue at her and mumbled under his breath. Genera took offense to this and demanded he repeat himself. Martin stood up and described how pointless it was for her to tease him before a death game. Genera scoffed and considered him not only an easy out but a sight for sore eyes, gesturing to all of him. Martin replied, “Even without the leg I bet I could still kick your ass.” Genera stepped towards him but Troy was right behind her. She was dissuaded from instigating further and walked away with a scowl. Martin continued his studies and would find a few other tributes staring at him. No one dared to repeat Genera’s mistake as Troy was standing guard close by. Martin grew bored of his studies and moved to the endurance station. He was on the stairmaster for twenty minutes before moving back to the survival station. At one point, he saw Lycan (7) enter the station. Fearing another confrontation from a bigger tribute, he shimmied himself up one of the trees and just sat there contemplating his situation. A couple tributes noticed this and even Violet (1) was slightly impressed by how fast he climbed up there. Martin stayed up in the tree until Grover left. Martin then moved to the knife throwing station to meet with Melonie.
Melonie’s training experience was much more fruitful. She spent the first 1.5 hours polishing her camogie skills. Her arms grew tired and she went to the leg press machine. During one of her sets, Violet (1) approached and complimented her muscles. Melonie jokingly asked if she knew the unwritten rule of the gym: don’t try to talk to someone while they were doing their sets. Violet was there to offer an alliance as her skills could be useful. Melonie was surprised and asked who else was in the alliance. Violet listed off her partner Merde and the District 2 tributes Atlanta and Cicero. Melonie wanted to meet them first which Violet agreed. The careers were cordial and nice to Melonie, Atlanta calling her “Savannah 2.0”. Melonie asked for pointers on the axe since it’s the weapon most likely to utilize her camogie skills. Merde spent the next hour helping her out until Melonie was able to hit the target. Afterwards, she raced Atlanta and Violet in the obstacle course, making second place behind Violet. Melonie decided to accept the alliance but asked for Martin to join them. Everyone’s faces morphed into a mixture of confusion and disgust. The four thought he had no noteworthy skills based on first impressions and his handicap. Melonie insisted he could be useful and tried to point him out in the survival station. Her case fell flat when they saw him lounging in the tree. Violet declared the case closed and that she should be glad they offered her a spot in the alliance. Atlanta agreed and said that tributes like him always fell in the bloodbath. Melonie tried to bring up the 6th Hunger Games but she fell on deaf ears. Melonie feigned understanding and walked to the knife throwing station.
Melonie greeted Martin and the two began practicing knife throwing. Martin thought it funny yet strategic to ally with the careers. Melonie said she tried to include him but they said no. Martin chuckled and said that was the obvious answer. Melonie considered using her alliance to help ensure his survival in the bloodbath but Martin shot this down. Martin knew her plan was pointless as the careers would try to kill him anyway and no plan on her part would change that. Melonie incredulously asked, “How could you be such a downer all the time?” Martin said that after years of being put down by bullies and the Capital’s oppressive system, you get used to it. He appreciated her kindness but wanted to focus on training. The two continued to practice for the rest of the day with Melonie landing three bullseyes and Martin barely hitting the target by the end. The training assessments came to fruition soon after training day ended. The highest scores belonged to Cicero (2) with a score of 10. Violet (1), Merde (1), Atlanta (2), and Melonie (11) all shared scores of 9. Other noteworthy high scores were Genera (5) with a 8, Lycan (7) with a 7, and Tusk (10) with an 8. Martin was on the low end of the spectrum with a score of 4, tying him with Zera (9) and Calsie (12).
There were congratulatory words for Melonie’s impressive score, Demeter noting it the highest score since Savannah’s score of 10. Martin sulked on the couch and was cleaning his glasses. Savannah told him to not beat himself up over the score and said that Tris Plummer won with a score of 3. Martin countered this by pointing out she won by accident. Melonie asked what was really wrong. Martin felt absolutely humiliated in the assessment and recalled hearing the gamemakers making snide comments and laughing at him while he left the room. Savannah muttered “assholes” under her breath and assured him their opinions didn’t matter. Melonie wondered why it was District 11 of all districts that seemed to be the butt of all the jokes, even admitting one of the judges eyed her down like she was a snack. Savannah explained that their district’s commodities were the most coveted, leaving a smaller percentage for the workers to feed themselves. All that matters to the Capital is that they met quotas, disregarding their well being and work conditions. Martin seconded this and pointed to his leg as proof. Savannah wished she could help everyone but her role as a victor gave her only so much leeway. If she met Martin sooner, she would’ve done everything in her power to help. Martin thanked her and now wished he acted a little different in the parade. Melonie offered to give him pointers for the interview, quoting Savanna “If I could deal with toddlers then the fufu Capitalites should be a walk in the park.” She sat down and worked with him on clever jokes while Savannah spoke with Demeter about costumes.
Interview night was the most highly anticipated event of the pregames as it gave the Capital a closer look into this year’s tributes. Cohosts Artemis Radcliffe and Capricorn Luther spent their opening monologue sharing hopes for a new decade of the Hunger Games and the continuation of the Golden Victor era. Luther was very proud of his protege Balthazar Grimstone and revealed he would get his own exhibit at the Oakley Museum of the Hunger Games. Artemis expressed hopes Grimstone’s fiance Priscilla Cardew would deliver a good games. After the monologue, it was time to speak with this year’s tributes. There weren’t as many noteworthy moments compared to the previous year. The most noteworthy included Atlanta (2) subtly throwing shade at her ex boyfriend Cicero (2) only for him to speak highly of her and lament their breakup. Genera (5) proved to be popular as she had great enthusiasm and had a good back and forth with Artemis. Zera (9) cried for most of her interview, missing her pet goat. Tusk (10) proved to be the most unpopular tribute when his treatment of the autistic Tori (10) was revealed via hidden surveillance. Tusk was sporting a black eye after one particular incident proceeding the assessments courtesy of Sherpa Kapoor (victor of the 16th Hunger Games). Artemis crossed her fingers, hoping the next tribute wasn’t as hostile.
When Melonie was introduced, the crowds gasped in awe. Melonie wore a luscious green dress with ruby slippers and yellow clips in her wavy hair. Artemis fawned over how gorgeous she was and wanted to borrow the dress. Melonie quipped, “And I barely put any makeup on.” Luther told her how everyone was impressed with how she carried herself during the pregames. Artemis guessed she had boys fawning over her at every turn. Melonie blushed and said she had her pursuers but couldn’t possibly choose. When pressed further, Melonie admitted she did have a boyfriend Pablo and he was on the after school camogie boys team. Luther used this to segway into her camogie skills and asked if her time in the Capital helped her catch up. Melonie credited Savannah for her improvements and joked how she was turning into “Savannah 2.0”. When asked about her mentor, Melonie said that she was a good mentor despite being a little closed off. Luther chalked it up to fifteen years without a victor. Artemis commented how despite her beauty and skills, she chose to play daycare instead. Melonie said that she grew to adore children and had years of experience looking after her siblings. She had aspirations to be a teacher full time and have many kids of her own. Luther asked what else she could do if she won the games. Melonie would help spread the outreach of the Hamaguchi Prosthetics and feed the starving children. She felt it unfair that her partner Martin was refused access to a new leg. Melonie told the audience off for cyberbullying Martin, telling them “If you had your leg chopped off, you would be depressed too.” Sensing the tension, Melonie turned this around and hoped everyone would support both of them as there’s more to District 11 than meets the eye. Luther admired her spark while Artemis still wanted to borrow the dress. Melonie was dismissed to great applause and was considered a crowd favorite.
During Melonie’s interview, Martin was repeating some rehearsed lines to himself when his face started to feel hot and itchy. He started scratching at it and went over to look in a mirror. He gasped in shock when he noticed that his face was once again covered in acne, this time much worse especially around the cheeks. He ran over to Savannah for help, who cursed herself for forgetting to notify him that the special cream Demeter gave him was temporary. Martin asked why the problem was worse, her grumbling, “The beauty industry wouldn't be as big as it is if clear skin was a one time purchase.” She searched her handbag and unfortunately couldn’t find anything. Melonie’s interview was wrapping up so she had to think quickly. Martin grabbed a brown paper shopping bag and a small pair of scissors.
Luther called for Martin to come onto the stage. Martin walked out wearing a green three-piece suit with ruffles resembling leaves and a vest that had colored embroidery of different fruit. However, the audience's attention was brought to a humorous sight as Martin was wearing a paper bag over his head with holes cut out for his eyes and a big smile drawn on with lipstick.
Martin greeted the hosts and remarked that they all seemed to look their best tonight, earning a laugh from the audience. Luther jokingly asked if it was really him under there to which Martin sarcastically responded, “No I'm a body double. The real Martin is making a run for it or I guess a hobble for it really.” Luther nearly choked on his Concord Champagne while the audience erupted into laughter. Artemis asked him about his training and if he thought he improved. Martin nonchalantly claimed to feel “as strong as a cart ox”. He felt he now had a chance at winning the games instead of dying at the next quinquennial quell like he thought, earning him another respectable laugh from the audience. When his confrontation with Genera (5) during training was brought up, Martin told the hosts it was a shame that they couldn’t get along and wished they looked for what they had in common, “For example, I have a leg of tin and she has a brain of hay.” This joke earned more laughter but some fans of Genera booed. One of the big questions of the night was shouted from an audience member, asking how he lost his leg. Martin casually stated, “Capital punishment just like the last guys”, referring to Pedro and Arisu of the 6th Hunger Games. Jeers of disdain were heard in that portion of the audience. Artemis claimed sympathy for his plight, but Martin angrily shouted that she was pretending because he was sitting in front of her. No one cared when he was back in D11, accusing the Capital of relegating his status and whole being to a statistic. This statement triggered near deafening boos from the audience. Martin stormed off stage, yelling that he got the message. Artemis assumed it was a sore subject while Luther gave her the stink eye.
After some mediocre D12 interviews, it was time for the Capital to meet the newest Head Gamemaker. Priscilla Cardew was the fiance of Balthazar Grimstone and viewers were blindsided by the style contrast. While Grimstone was into darker colors, Priscilla loved wearing brighter cheerful costumes. She walked the stage wearing a sparkling red dress with rainbow ruffles and diamond slippers. Luther was excited to meet Priscilla, revealing he tried to meet her prematurely but Grimstone wanted to keep her a surprise. After a few minutes of playful banter between her and Artemis, Priscilla was ready to give her gamemaking story. She originally studied under Jasper Deparnieux and was picked out of a raffle since there were countless promising candidates. Priscilla decided that because of the great success Luther and Grimstone had for using themes, she came up with one of her own. When pressed for hints, Priscilla brushed her blonde hair back and said her favorite games was the 2nd Quinquennial Quell (15th Hunger Games), mostly because of the arena itself. Luther guessed she wanted to utilize more urban locations for her games and Priscilla confirmed this. She refused to reveal this year’s arena, promising it would be quite a show.
Martin retired to his room immediately after returning to the apartment. Savannah was indecisive over whether to be impressed or disappointed with Martin’s behavior. Melonie was scared that the Capital would make him a target similar to Tris Plummer, thereby ruining both his and her chances. Savannah assured her that she was overreacting after seeing after-show comments. Viewers were equally torn as they loved the first half but weren’t happy with the slander towards Artemis. Melonie was surprised they ignored his comments about being a worthless statistic. Savannah considered it predictable for the Capital to retaliate against those who call them out on their evil deeds. She brought up Tris’s family (excluding her mother) being executed for the Quelltastrophe. While she had as much reason to hate the Capital as Martin, Savannah had a family to look out for. Melonie found it hard to process as her life was relatively tame compared to theirs. This was all the reason she needed to promise to watch over Martin anyway she could. Melonie knocked on Martin’s door and he opened it. The two talked for almost an hour. Melonie insisted she could find a way to help Martin while still allied with the careers. Martin tried to dissuade her but it was pointless. “The Capital may have given up on you but I haven’t. You are not worthless or just some statistic. You are a person and have just as much a right to live as anyone.” Martin teared up and thanked her for being so kind. The two retired to bed.
The next morning, all tributes were escorted to the hoverjets that would take them to the underbelly of the arena. The arena attire consisted of button up work shirts with district insignia patches, sturdy jeans, and steel toe boots. Melonie was staring at the mirror when Savannah entered the room. The two women embraced and shed some tears. Melonie promised she would do everything in her power to ensure one of them would return and bring glory back to their district. Savannah admitted how nice it would be to not be alone in Victor’s Village. Melonie shrugged and added, “Who knows? We could have District 11’s first Golden Victor.” Savannah didn’t care about that and just pleaded with her to focus on surviving. Melonie stepped into her tube. Meanwhile, Martin was struggling to adjust his prosthetic leg with his boot. Demeter walked in and assisted him. Martin understood that Melonie was the more likely victor, which is why Savannah visited her instead. Demeter said he mattered as well and she would still be happy if he won. Martin chuckled at the thought of a crippled victor. He asked if she had any more of the special cream for his face. Demeter smiled and pulled some out of her purse. She applied the cream to his face and all of the acne completely dissipated. She promised there would be more if he returned. Martin thanked her for all of the help and hugged her before hobbling into the tube.
2024.05.23 01:24 CIAHerpes Don’t eat at the diner called Happy’s Restaurant. They serve absolutely delicious human meat.
I lost my job a couple months ago when the entire business I worked for abruptly went bankrupt and shut down. To make ends meet, I started driving for Uber late into the night. It was about 3:30 or 4 AM when I made the last drop-off on the night it happened.
The passenger was a strange, quiet man with a greasy T-shirt. His brown eyes looked flat and dead. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I dropped him off at a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, making sure he left my car so he could wander off and wear a mask made of human skin or whatever people like that did on their days off. The house looked like something from a horror movie, all sharp turrets and dark windows with a blood-red exterior.
Dawn came early that day, a cancerous orange sky looming overhead. Needles of rain abruptly started falling sideways. Tired and hungry, I kept an eye out for somewhere to stop and eat as I drove through the filthy torrents of rain. I turned on the GPS for my apartment and sped through the dirty, empty streets of Frost Hollow.
Dark, dead trees rose overhead on both sides of me. I drove on for a few minutes, seeing only a single house far back at the beginning of the road that entire time. I didn’t know this area, so I was pleasantly surprised when a brightly-lit diner appeared on my left. A blinking sign cheerily read “Happy’s Restaurant”.
The parking lot was entirely empty except for a truck that looked like it had been there for weeks. Leaves and dirt covered its windshield, and someone had written “CLEAN ME” in the grime in giant letters. I heaved a deep yawn as I pulled into the parking lot. I tried to check my phone, but there was no internet or service all the way out here. I hoped they had Wi-fi in the diner.
Happy’s Restaurant had enormous plate-glass windows wrapping around the sides and front of the restaurant. Light burst out onto the dark parking lot in harsh white streams as birds chirped in the forests around me, waking up to the new dawn. The architecture of the place looked straight out of the 1950s. I could imagine James Dean going there and chain-smoking cigarettes over a burger and a coffee.
I got out of the car, heading over to the front of the restaurant where I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The spicy menthol tobacco gave me a sudden jolt of energy. Blinking quickly, I smoked the cigarette as quickly as I could, feeling wide awake by the end of it. I stood under the canopy of the building, watching lightning erupt like missile flashes across the sky. The street remained dead and empty. I hadn’t seen a single other person since I had dropped off the weirdo at the nearby Victorian house.
I opened the glass door of the diner, hearing a bell ring overhead. I looked into the empty restaurant, seeing its sparkling clean tables. The smell of fresh coffee rose out in fragrant waves. Shrugging, I went down and sat at a table next to a TV in the corner. It was playing some twenty-four hour news channel, talking about a mass break-out in a nearby mental asylum.
“Two patients of the Graypath Psychiatric Hospital were able to break out by murdering a doctor and taking a nurse hostage. They had apparently planned the attack for weeks, making homemade knives out of screws taken out of the walls and other contraband that went undetected. The facility is considered a maximum-security hospital, with the majority of patients considered criminally insane and held until…”
“Hey, sorry bud, didn’t see you there,” a voice called out from the back of the empty restaurant. I jumped, turning to see who was speaking.
A man came out in a streaked, dirty apron. He was incredibly fat, probably at least three or four hundred pounds. Four greasy chins hung down on his neck like the wattles of a rooster. He reminded me of a circus freak, a slug-like man whose heavy footsteps shook the ground as he approached my table. He had red hands like a butcher. His face, too, was beet-red and covered in sweat with a tiny nose in the middle and giant, rubbery lips. His nametag said, “Frank”.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “What can I get for you? Our waiter never showed up so I’m the only guy here. I’ll have to take your order and cook it, if that’s OK.” I nodded happily.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just want a coffee with extra cream and sugar and a Reuben with fries and an extra side of coleslaw.” He wrote it down on a dirt-streaked pad he pulled from his apron, taking a very long time and writing as slowly as possible. I watched his face closely. He reminded me of a clown, but his eyes were gray, the color of steel. They seemed freezing cold, almost inhuman. There was nothing clownish about them.
“OK, bud, that’ll be right up,” he said, grinning down at me. His yellowed teeth were covered in a thick layer of filmy grime. I noticed that some in the front were broken, as if he had a habit of getting his teeth knocked out in fights. He turned around, heading back into the kitchen in his strange, waddling gait. I wondered how Frank had gotten here. There was certainly no public transportation anywhere in this part of the state. But I figured he must have gotten dropped off. I looked down at my phone, hoping to find an open Wi-Fi connection to pass the time, but there was nothing here. Sighing, I looked around the restaurant.
A creepy clown mannequin stood in the corner, holding a sign that read, “BE HAPPY. EAT THOSE FEELINGS AWAY.” Its red-and-white make-up was all sharp points and hard angles. Around its grinning mouth, the red paint formed into a pointed half-circle, accentuating the gleaming white teeth that shone between its thin lips.
A few moments later, Frank came out with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers and sugar packets. He plopped them down in front of me, grunting and ambling back towards the kitchen. I smelled the odor of roasting meat and cooking oil rising from the kitchen in delicious, aromatic waves.
I couldn’t wait for my Reuben. Out of all sandwiches in the history of sandwiches, I thought Reubens were probably the most delicious. The way the corned beef mixed with the Thousand Island dressing, sauerkraut and marble rye bread made it seem like those ingredients were made by God specifically to make such a divine sandwich.
My stomach growled as I waited eagerly. I continued scanning the restaurant, listening to the hum of the TV next to me when I spotted what looked like spatters of blood in front of the swinging kitchen doors. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a teenager, a crappy little pizza place, and I remembered how the ground beef always came soaked in wet blood. I found it odd that no one had cleaned it up yet, though. It looked dried and clotted, as if it had been there for days.
The TV was still talking about the escaped mental patients when Frank brought out a giant plate of delicious, fragrant sandwich and golden fries. I could feel my mouth watering as he laid it out with a clunk on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy, buddy,” he said, giving me a sly wink. His fish-like lips formed into a faint half-smile. He turned away, and I immediately dug in.
The Reuben was probably the best Reuben I’ve ever tasted. The corned beef was perfectly cooked, the bread crisp and fresh. The fries were golden and had a nice, satisfying crunch. I wanted to compliment Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, I finished the first half of my sandwich.
As I got to the last bite, I noticed something odd and crunchy in the meat. I thought it was a coin or something at first. I immediately spit out the entire wad of half-chewed sandwich onto a napkin, looking down.
In the middle of the meat sat a painted human fingernail. It was ripped-off, the bottom jagged and sharp. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to vomit.
***
I sat there for a few seconds, simply staring, my mind racing in circles like a rat in a wheel. Was it a fake fingernail? How had it gotten into my sandwich?
I picked it up, bringing it closer to my right eye. I saw black, clotted blood and thin strands of flesh still hanging from the bottom. It was definitely not fake.
Rising quickly, I grabbed my car keys and phone off the table and started stumbling towards the door. There were no rational thoughts at that moment, just an insistent rising sense of panic and dread. That was the moment the lights at the diner cut out. An eerie, gurgling laugh floated out of the kitchen.
The cancerous yellow light of the new day was filtering through the stormy clouds. I looked through the plate-glass front door and saw a face peering in with wide, insane eyes. I recognized the man I had dropped off at the Victorian house down the road. He had carved a fresh question mark into his forehead sometime after I had last seen him. His face looked slack and empty as he stared inside, his dead, blank eyes roaming left and right, looking for someone- looking for me.
In his right hand, I saw an enormous meat cleaver streaked with fresh, dripping blood. He raised a trembling left hand and started opening the door. In the darkness and silence of the diner, I could hear every sound amplified a thousand-fold: every drop of rain hitting the roof, every thudding beat of my heart, every tiny creaking of the door as it swung open.
I heard the doors to the kitchen swinging open at the same moment. In terror, I frantically looked around, seeing the bathrooms only a few feet away in the corner of the restaurant. As silently as I could, I slunk towards them, afraid to look back. I ripped open the women’s restroom door, peeking out as I closed it behind me.
I could see the man holding the meat cleaver slowly creeping past the tables, bending over to check underneath them. I could hear him whispering to himself.
“I must baptize them in the blood and send them out into the world,” he muttered quietly. “Must find the blood… eat the body, drink the blood to see God…”
Silently, I closed the door and groped around in the dark until I found the lock. Inhaling deeply, I clicked it to the side. The subtle clicking noise seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and turned, seeing a scene from a nightmare. Corpses littered the floor of the bathroom. A waitress in a button-up vest sat up against the wall in a corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with dark brown eyes, black hair and pale, creamy skin. Dozens of deep stab wounds gleamed in her chest and stomach. Her neck had been so deeply slashed that her head had nearly been decapitated.
Even worse, I saw chunks of flesh cut out of her body, chunks from the meat of her cheeks, arms, legs and fingers. I suddenly had a very good idea of where the fingernail had come from and what I had been eating. I gagged, retching.
Next to her sprawled the corpse of an old man in a business suit. His shirt and jacket had been ripped open, and a giant question mark carved deeply into the loose skin of his bird-like chest. Stuck in one eye, I saw the gleam of a wicked butcher’s knife. It had sliced the eye in half, the blade disappearing deeply into his brain and skull. The other eye stared glassily up at the ceiling.
I heard a light tapping at the bathroom door, a kind of polite knocking that someone might use if they were wondering if it was occupied. I was afraid to breathe. I spun, looking at the wooden door, the only thing standing between me and certain death at this moment.
“Is anyone in there?” a low, raspy voice asked, the same voice that had mumbled about drinking blood. “Occupado?”
“Hey, Question Mark, what the fuck you doing?” the gruff voice of Frank asked. “Did you find him?” His tone rose into one of utter excitement, like a child on his way to Disneyworld.
“The bathroom’s locked,” Question Mark replied. “I think we got a little lamb in there, ready for the slaughter.”
“Ready for the grill, you mean!” Frank said, giving an insane laugh that reminded me of the coldness of empty space. I turned, running over to the old man’s corpse. The game was up, i knew. I wrapped my hands around the sticky, blood-coated handle of the butcher’s knife. I started pulling up, but it was firmly implanted in the old man’s skull. At that moment, I heard a sound that sent waves of terror dancing up my spine: the sound of keys jingling in a lock.
A rush of adrenaline made the world brighten and my vision turn white in the harsh glare of the phone’s light. I laid the phone down on the top of the toilet and, with all of my strength, yanked up on the knife. There was a cracking noise, then a wet sucking sound as cold blood sprayed my face and neck. The knife slipped out in a rush, sending me flying back.
At that moment, the door flew open. Frank and Question Mark stood there, side by side, two grinning lunatics with knives in their hands. The orange light from the sunrise dimly illuminated their silhouettes. They looked over to where the cell phone lay on the toilet, not seeing me leaning against the back wall, breathing heavily in an animal panic. Before they had time to react, I ran forwards, the blade facing out towards my attackers.
Question Mark turned towards me at the last second as I brought the knife into his throat. It sliced easily into the flesh. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he gurgled, choking on his own blood. He tried to bring the meat cleaver up, but his foot slipped on the slick blood coating the floor.
I yanked the knife back out, turning to Frank. I saw a flash of metal and felt something pierce deeply into the side of my stomach. A roaring pain like acid burned its way through my flesh. Screaming as warm spurts of blood shot from the stab wound, I ran at Frank with the last of my energy, stabbing upwards into his belly and aiming at his aorta in the center. We fell into each other, both critically injured. The blood burst from his ruptured artery, spurting like a firehose with each rapid beat of his heart.
His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back, landing on the corpse of Question Mark. Staggering and leaning against the wall, I tried making my way towards the front of the store, but felt the energy draining out of me like water through a sieve. Waves of agony crashed through my body, taking my breath away. I collapsed to my knees, crawling slowly towards salvation. Frothy bubbles of blood flowed over my lips as I coughed, choking.
I heard sirens in the distance, approaching rapidly. It sounded like dozens of police cars were heading in our direction. Screaming and crying, I dragged myself towards the front door, leaving warm streaks of blood smeared across the restaurant floor. The gurgling death gasp of Frank rattled noisily behind me. I could feel my life draining out of the deep stab wound in the side of my stomach.
As I reached the door, police cars came into the restaurant parking lot with a screeching of tires. Men began running out with their guns drawn. The world went black as I reached up towards the door, wanting only to get out of this restaurant and never see this town again.
***
I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Emergency surgery had stopped the bleeding, and many blood transfusions had saved my life. Police were waiting around my bed as I regained consciousness, frantic to ask me questions. I told them I didn’t know anything, that I had just stopped at the restaurant to eat and gotten attacked.
“We had gotten multiple missing persons reports over the last couple weeks,” the gruff homicide detective with a face like a bulldog said, “but we didn’t connect the victims to the diner until the day we found you there. Both of the escaped patients are dead, though, thanks to you.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook my head, too weary to respond. If only they had investigated sooner, I could have avoided this entire nightmare.
But, then again, I wouldn’t have tasted the best Reuben sandwich in the universe, either.
submitted by CIAHerpes to scaryjujuarmy [link] [comments]
The passenger was a strange, quiet man with a greasy T-shirt. His brown eyes looked flat and dead. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I dropped him off at a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, making sure he left my car so he could wander off and wear a mask made of human skin or whatever people like that did on their days off. The house looked like something from a horror movie, all sharp turrets and dark windows with a blood-red exterior.
Dawn came early that day, a cancerous orange sky looming overhead. Needles of rain abruptly started falling sideways. Tired and hungry, I kept an eye out for somewhere to stop and eat as I drove through the filthy torrents of rain. I turned on the GPS for my apartment and sped through the dirty, empty streets of Frost Hollow.
Dark, dead trees rose overhead on both sides of me. I drove on for a few minutes, seeing only a single house far back at the beginning of the road that entire time. I didn’t know this area, so I was pleasantly surprised when a brightly-lit diner appeared on my left. A blinking sign cheerily read “Happy’s Restaurant”.
The parking lot was entirely empty except for a truck that looked like it had been there for weeks. Leaves and dirt covered its windshield, and someone had written “CLEAN ME” in the grime in giant letters. I heaved a deep yawn as I pulled into the parking lot. I tried to check my phone, but there was no internet or service all the way out here. I hoped they had Wi-fi in the diner.
Happy’s Restaurant had enormous plate-glass windows wrapping around the sides and front of the restaurant. Light burst out onto the dark parking lot in harsh white streams as birds chirped in the forests around me, waking up to the new dawn. The architecture of the place looked straight out of the 1950s. I could imagine James Dean going there and chain-smoking cigarettes over a burger and a coffee.
I got out of the car, heading over to the front of the restaurant where I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The spicy menthol tobacco gave me a sudden jolt of energy. Blinking quickly, I smoked the cigarette as quickly as I could, feeling wide awake by the end of it. I stood under the canopy of the building, watching lightning erupt like missile flashes across the sky. The street remained dead and empty. I hadn’t seen a single other person since I had dropped off the weirdo at the nearby Victorian house.
I opened the glass door of the diner, hearing a bell ring overhead. I looked into the empty restaurant, seeing its sparkling clean tables. The smell of fresh coffee rose out in fragrant waves. Shrugging, I went down and sat at a table next to a TV in the corner. It was playing some twenty-four hour news channel, talking about a mass break-out in a nearby mental asylum.
“Two patients of the Graypath Psychiatric Hospital were able to break out by murdering a doctor and taking a nurse hostage. They had apparently planned the attack for weeks, making homemade knives out of screws taken out of the walls and other contraband that went undetected. The facility is considered a maximum-security hospital, with the majority of patients considered criminally insane and held until…”
“Hey, sorry bud, didn’t see you there,” a voice called out from the back of the empty restaurant. I jumped, turning to see who was speaking.
A man came out in a streaked, dirty apron. He was incredibly fat, probably at least three or four hundred pounds. Four greasy chins hung down on his neck like the wattles of a rooster. He reminded me of a circus freak, a slug-like man whose heavy footsteps shook the ground as he approached my table. He had red hands like a butcher. His face, too, was beet-red and covered in sweat with a tiny nose in the middle and giant, rubbery lips. His nametag said, “Frank”.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “What can I get for you? Our waiter never showed up so I’m the only guy here. I’ll have to take your order and cook it, if that’s OK.” I nodded happily.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just want a coffee with extra cream and sugar and a Reuben with fries and an extra side of coleslaw.” He wrote it down on a dirt-streaked pad he pulled from his apron, taking a very long time and writing as slowly as possible. I watched his face closely. He reminded me of a clown, but his eyes were gray, the color of steel. They seemed freezing cold, almost inhuman. There was nothing clownish about them.
“OK, bud, that’ll be right up,” he said, grinning down at me. His yellowed teeth were covered in a thick layer of filmy grime. I noticed that some in the front were broken, as if he had a habit of getting his teeth knocked out in fights. He turned around, heading back into the kitchen in his strange, waddling gait. I wondered how Frank had gotten here. There was certainly no public transportation anywhere in this part of the state. But I figured he must have gotten dropped off. I looked down at my phone, hoping to find an open Wi-Fi connection to pass the time, but there was nothing here. Sighing, I looked around the restaurant.
A creepy clown mannequin stood in the corner, holding a sign that read, “BE HAPPY. EAT THOSE FEELINGS AWAY.” Its red-and-white make-up was all sharp points and hard angles. Around its grinning mouth, the red paint formed into a pointed half-circle, accentuating the gleaming white teeth that shone between its thin lips.
A few moments later, Frank came out with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers and sugar packets. He plopped them down in front of me, grunting and ambling back towards the kitchen. I smelled the odor of roasting meat and cooking oil rising from the kitchen in delicious, aromatic waves.
I couldn’t wait for my Reuben. Out of all sandwiches in the history of sandwiches, I thought Reubens were probably the most delicious. The way the corned beef mixed with the Thousand Island dressing, sauerkraut and marble rye bread made it seem like those ingredients were made by God specifically to make such a divine sandwich.
My stomach growled as I waited eagerly. I continued scanning the restaurant, listening to the hum of the TV next to me when I spotted what looked like spatters of blood in front of the swinging kitchen doors. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a teenager, a crappy little pizza place, and I remembered how the ground beef always came soaked in wet blood. I found it odd that no one had cleaned it up yet, though. It looked dried and clotted, as if it had been there for days.
The TV was still talking about the escaped mental patients when Frank brought out a giant plate of delicious, fragrant sandwich and golden fries. I could feel my mouth watering as he laid it out with a clunk on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy, buddy,” he said, giving me a sly wink. His fish-like lips formed into a faint half-smile. He turned away, and I immediately dug in.
The Reuben was probably the best Reuben I’ve ever tasted. The corned beef was perfectly cooked, the bread crisp and fresh. The fries were golden and had a nice, satisfying crunch. I wanted to compliment Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, I finished the first half of my sandwich.
As I got to the last bite, I noticed something odd and crunchy in the meat. I thought it was a coin or something at first. I immediately spit out the entire wad of half-chewed sandwich onto a napkin, looking down.
In the middle of the meat sat a painted human fingernail. It was ripped-off, the bottom jagged and sharp. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to vomit.
***
I sat there for a few seconds, simply staring, my mind racing in circles like a rat in a wheel. Was it a fake fingernail? How had it gotten into my sandwich?
I picked it up, bringing it closer to my right eye. I saw black, clotted blood and thin strands of flesh still hanging from the bottom. It was definitely not fake.
Rising quickly, I grabbed my car keys and phone off the table and started stumbling towards the door. There were no rational thoughts at that moment, just an insistent rising sense of panic and dread. That was the moment the lights at the diner cut out. An eerie, gurgling laugh floated out of the kitchen.
The cancerous yellow light of the new day was filtering through the stormy clouds. I looked through the plate-glass front door and saw a face peering in with wide, insane eyes. I recognized the man I had dropped off at the Victorian house down the road. He had carved a fresh question mark into his forehead sometime after I had last seen him. His face looked slack and empty as he stared inside, his dead, blank eyes roaming left and right, looking for someone- looking for me.
In his right hand, I saw an enormous meat cleaver streaked with fresh, dripping blood. He raised a trembling left hand and started opening the door. In the darkness and silence of the diner, I could hear every sound amplified a thousand-fold: every drop of rain hitting the roof, every thudding beat of my heart, every tiny creaking of the door as it swung open.
I heard the doors to the kitchen swinging open at the same moment. In terror, I frantically looked around, seeing the bathrooms only a few feet away in the corner of the restaurant. As silently as I could, I slunk towards them, afraid to look back. I ripped open the women’s restroom door, peeking out as I closed it behind me.
I could see the man holding the meat cleaver slowly creeping past the tables, bending over to check underneath them. I could hear him whispering to himself.
“I must baptize them in the blood and send them out into the world,” he muttered quietly. “Must find the blood… eat the body, drink the blood to see God…”
Silently, I closed the door and groped around in the dark until I found the lock. Inhaling deeply, I clicked it to the side. The subtle clicking noise seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and turned, seeing a scene from a nightmare. Corpses littered the floor of the bathroom. A waitress in a button-up vest sat up against the wall in a corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with dark brown eyes, black hair and pale, creamy skin. Dozens of deep stab wounds gleamed in her chest and stomach. Her neck had been so deeply slashed that her head had nearly been decapitated.
Even worse, I saw chunks of flesh cut out of her body, chunks from the meat of her cheeks, arms, legs and fingers. I suddenly had a very good idea of where the fingernail had come from and what I had been eating. I gagged, retching.
Next to her sprawled the corpse of an old man in a business suit. His shirt and jacket had been ripped open, and a giant question mark carved deeply into the loose skin of his bird-like chest. Stuck in one eye, I saw the gleam of a wicked butcher’s knife. It had sliced the eye in half, the blade disappearing deeply into his brain and skull. The other eye stared glassily up at the ceiling.
I heard a light tapping at the bathroom door, a kind of polite knocking that someone might use if they were wondering if it was occupied. I was afraid to breathe. I spun, looking at the wooden door, the only thing standing between me and certain death at this moment.
“Is anyone in there?” a low, raspy voice asked, the same voice that had mumbled about drinking blood. “Occupado?”
“Hey, Question Mark, what the fuck you doing?” the gruff voice of Frank asked. “Did you find him?” His tone rose into one of utter excitement, like a child on his way to Disneyworld.
“The bathroom’s locked,” Question Mark replied. “I think we got a little lamb in there, ready for the slaughter.”
“Ready for the grill, you mean!” Frank said, giving an insane laugh that reminded me of the coldness of empty space. I turned, running over to the old man’s corpse. The game was up, i knew. I wrapped my hands around the sticky, blood-coated handle of the butcher’s knife. I started pulling up, but it was firmly implanted in the old man’s skull. At that moment, I heard a sound that sent waves of terror dancing up my spine: the sound of keys jingling in a lock.
A rush of adrenaline made the world brighten and my vision turn white in the harsh glare of the phone’s light. I laid the phone down on the top of the toilet and, with all of my strength, yanked up on the knife. There was a cracking noise, then a wet sucking sound as cold blood sprayed my face and neck. The knife slipped out in a rush, sending me flying back.
At that moment, the door flew open. Frank and Question Mark stood there, side by side, two grinning lunatics with knives in their hands. The orange light from the sunrise dimly illuminated their silhouettes. They looked over to where the cell phone lay on the toilet, not seeing me leaning against the back wall, breathing heavily in an animal panic. Before they had time to react, I ran forwards, the blade facing out towards my attackers.
Question Mark turned towards me at the last second as I brought the knife into his throat. It sliced easily into the flesh. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he gurgled, choking on his own blood. He tried to bring the meat cleaver up, but his foot slipped on the slick blood coating the floor.
I yanked the knife back out, turning to Frank. I saw a flash of metal and felt something pierce deeply into the side of my stomach. A roaring pain like acid burned its way through my flesh. Screaming as warm spurts of blood shot from the stab wound, I ran at Frank with the last of my energy, stabbing upwards into his belly and aiming at his aorta in the center. We fell into each other, both critically injured. The blood burst from his ruptured artery, spurting like a firehose with each rapid beat of his heart.
His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back, landing on the corpse of Question Mark. Staggering and leaning against the wall, I tried making my way towards the front of the store, but felt the energy draining out of me like water through a sieve. Waves of agony crashed through my body, taking my breath away. I collapsed to my knees, crawling slowly towards salvation. Frothy bubbles of blood flowed over my lips as I coughed, choking.
I heard sirens in the distance, approaching rapidly. It sounded like dozens of police cars were heading in our direction. Screaming and crying, I dragged myself towards the front door, leaving warm streaks of blood smeared across the restaurant floor. The gurgling death gasp of Frank rattled noisily behind me. I could feel my life draining out of the deep stab wound in the side of my stomach.
As I reached the door, police cars came into the restaurant parking lot with a screeching of tires. Men began running out with their guns drawn. The world went black as I reached up towards the door, wanting only to get out of this restaurant and never see this town again.
***
I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Emergency surgery had stopped the bleeding, and many blood transfusions had saved my life. Police were waiting around my bed as I regained consciousness, frantic to ask me questions. I told them I didn’t know anything, that I had just stopped at the restaurant to eat and gotten attacked.
“We had gotten multiple missing persons reports over the last couple weeks,” the gruff homicide detective with a face like a bulldog said, “but we didn’t connect the victims to the diner until the day we found you there. Both of the escaped patients are dead, though, thanks to you.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook my head, too weary to respond. If only they had investigated sooner, I could have avoided this entire nightmare.
But, then again, I wouldn’t have tasted the best Reuben sandwich in the universe, either.
2024.05.23 01:24 CIAHerpes Don’t eat at the diner called Happy’s Restaurant. They serve absolutely delicious human meat.
I lost my job a couple months ago when the entire business I worked for abruptly went bankrupt and shut down. To make ends meet, I started driving for Uber late into the night. It was about 3:30 or 4 AM when I made the last drop-off on the night it happened.
The passenger was a strange, quiet man with a greasy T-shirt. His brown eyes looked flat and dead. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I dropped him off at a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, making sure he left my car so he could wander off and wear a mask made of human skin or whatever people like that did on their days off. The house looked like something from a horror movie, all sharp turrets and dark windows with a blood-red exterior.
Dawn came early that day, a cancerous orange sky looming overhead. Needles of rain abruptly started falling sideways. Tired and hungry, I kept an eye out for somewhere to stop and eat as I drove through the filthy torrents of rain. I turned on the GPS for my apartment and sped through the dirty, empty streets of Frost Hollow.
Dark, dead trees rose overhead on both sides of me. I drove on for a few minutes, seeing only a single house far back at the beginning of the road that entire time. I didn’t know this area, so I was pleasantly surprised when a brightly-lit diner appeared on my left. A blinking sign cheerily read “Happy’s Restaurant”.
The parking lot was entirely empty except for a truck that looked like it had been there for weeks. Leaves and dirt covered its windshield, and someone had written “CLEAN ME” in the grime in giant letters. I heaved a deep yawn as I pulled into the parking lot. I tried to check my phone, but there was no internet or service all the way out here. I hoped they had Wi-fi in the diner.
Happy’s Restaurant had enormous plate-glass windows wrapping around the sides and front of the restaurant. Light burst out onto the dark parking lot in harsh white streams as birds chirped in the forests around me, waking up to the new dawn. The architecture of the place looked straight out of the 1950s. I could imagine James Dean going there and chain-smoking cigarettes over a burger and a coffee.
I got out of the car, heading over to the front of the restaurant where I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The spicy menthol tobacco gave me a sudden jolt of energy. Blinking quickly, I smoked the cigarette as quickly as I could, feeling wide awake by the end of it. I stood under the canopy of the building, watching lightning erupt like missile flashes across the sky. The street remained dead and empty. I hadn’t seen a single other person since I had dropped off the weirdo at the nearby Victorian house.
I opened the glass door of the diner, hearing a bell ring overhead. I looked into the empty restaurant, seeing its sparkling clean tables. The smell of fresh coffee rose out in fragrant waves. Shrugging, I went down and sat at a table next to a TV in the corner. It was playing some twenty-four hour news channel, talking about a mass break-out in a nearby mental asylum.
“Two patients of the Graypath Psychiatric Hospital were able to break out by murdering a doctor and taking a nurse hostage. They had apparently planned the attack for weeks, making homemade knives out of screws taken out of the walls and other contraband that went undetected. The facility is considered a maximum-security hospital, with the majority of patients considered criminally insane and held until…”
“Hey, sorry bud, didn’t see you there,” a voice called out from the back of the empty restaurant. I jumped, turning to see who was speaking.
A man came out in a streaked, dirty apron. He was incredibly fat, probably at least three or four hundred pounds. Four greasy chins hung down on his neck like the wattles of a rooster. He reminded me of a circus freak, a slug-like man whose heavy footsteps shook the ground as he approached my table. He had red hands like a butcher. His face, too, was beet-red and covered in sweat with a tiny nose in the middle and giant, rubbery lips. His nametag said, “Frank”.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “What can I get for you? Our waiter never showed up so I’m the only guy here. I’ll have to take your order and cook it, if that’s OK.” I nodded happily.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just want a coffee with extra cream and sugar and a Reuben with fries and an extra side of coleslaw.” He wrote it down on a dirt-streaked pad he pulled from his apron, taking a very long time and writing as slowly as possible. I watched his face closely. He reminded me of a clown, but his eyes were gray, the color of steel. They seemed freezing cold, almost inhuman. There was nothing clownish about them.
“OK, bud, that’ll be right up,” he said, grinning down at me. His yellowed teeth were covered in a thick layer of filmy grime. I noticed that some in the front were broken, as if he had a habit of getting his teeth knocked out in fights. He turned around, heading back into the kitchen in his strange, waddling gait. I wondered how Frank had gotten here. There was certainly no public transportation anywhere in this part of the state. But I figured he must have gotten dropped off. I looked down at my phone, hoping to find an open Wi-Fi connection to pass the time, but there was nothing here. Sighing, I looked around the restaurant.
A creepy clown mannequin stood in the corner, holding a sign that read, “BE HAPPY. EAT THOSE FEELINGS AWAY.” Its red-and-white make-up was all sharp points and hard angles. Around its grinning mouth, the red paint formed into a pointed half-circle, accentuating the gleaming white teeth that shone between its thin lips.
A few moments later, Frank came out with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers and sugar packets. He plopped them down in front of me, grunting and ambling back towards the kitchen. I smelled the odor of roasting meat and cooking oil rising from the kitchen in delicious, aromatic waves.
I couldn’t wait for my Reuben. Out of all sandwiches in the history of sandwiches, I thought Reubens were probably the most delicious. The way the corned beef mixed with the Thousand Island dressing, sauerkraut and marble rye bread made it seem like those ingredients were made by God specifically to make such a divine sandwich.
My stomach growled as I waited eagerly. I continued scanning the restaurant, listening to the hum of the TV next to me when I spotted what looked like spatters of blood in front of the swinging kitchen doors. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a teenager, a crappy little pizza place, and I remembered how the ground beef always came soaked in wet blood. I found it odd that no one had cleaned it up yet, though. It looked dried and clotted, as if it had been there for days.
The TV was still talking about the escaped mental patients when Frank brought out a giant plate of delicious, fragrant sandwich and golden fries. I could feel my mouth watering as he laid it out with a clunk on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy, buddy,” he said, giving me a sly wink. His fish-like lips formed into a faint half-smile. He turned away, and I immediately dug in.
The Reuben was probably the best Reuben I’ve ever tasted. The corned beef was perfectly cooked, the bread crisp and fresh. The fries were golden and had a nice, satisfying crunch. I wanted to compliment Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, I finished the first half of my sandwich.
As I got to the last bite, I noticed something odd and crunchy in the meat. I thought it was a coin or something at first. I immediately spit out the entire wad of half-chewed sandwich onto a napkin, looking down.
In the middle of the meat sat a painted human fingernail. It was ripped-off, the bottom jagged and sharp. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to vomit.
***
I sat there for a few seconds, simply staring, my mind racing in circles like a rat in a wheel. Was it a fake fingernail? How had it gotten into my sandwich?
I picked it up, bringing it closer to my right eye. I saw black, clotted blood and thin strands of flesh still hanging from the bottom. It was definitely not fake.
Rising quickly, I grabbed my car keys and phone off the table and started stumbling towards the door. There were no rational thoughts at that moment, just an insistent rising sense of panic and dread. That was the moment the lights at the diner cut out. An eerie, gurgling laugh floated out of the kitchen.
The cancerous yellow light of the new day was filtering through the stormy clouds. I looked through the plate-glass front door and saw a face peering in with wide, insane eyes. I recognized the man I had dropped off at the Victorian house down the road. He had carved a fresh question mark into his forehead sometime after I had last seen him. His face looked slack and empty as he stared inside, his dead, blank eyes roaming left and right, looking for someone- looking for me.
In his right hand, I saw an enormous meat cleaver streaked with fresh, dripping blood. He raised a trembling left hand and started opening the door. In the darkness and silence of the diner, I could hear every sound amplified a thousand-fold: every drop of rain hitting the roof, every thudding beat of my heart, every tiny creaking of the door as it swung open.
I heard the doors to the kitchen swinging open at the same moment. In terror, I frantically looked around, seeing the bathrooms only a few feet away in the corner of the restaurant. As silently as I could, I slunk towards them, afraid to look back. I ripped open the women’s restroom door, peeking out as I closed it behind me.
I could see the man holding the meat cleaver slowly creeping past the tables, bending over to check underneath them. I could hear him whispering to himself.
“I must baptize them in the blood and send them out into the world,” he muttered quietly. “Must find the blood… eat the body, drink the blood to see God…”
Silently, I closed the door and groped around in the dark until I found the lock. Inhaling deeply, I clicked it to the side. The subtle clicking noise seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and turned, seeing a scene from a nightmare. Corpses littered the floor of the bathroom. A waitress in a button-up vest sat up against the wall in a corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with dark brown eyes, black hair and pale, creamy skin. Dozens of deep stab wounds gleamed in her chest and stomach. Her neck had been so deeply slashed that her head had nearly been decapitated.
Even worse, I saw chunks of flesh cut out of her body, chunks from the meat of her cheeks, arms, legs and fingers. I suddenly had a very good idea of where the fingernail had come from and what I had been eating. I gagged, retching.
Next to her sprawled the corpse of an old man in a business suit. His shirt and jacket had been ripped open, and a giant question mark carved deeply into the loose skin of his bird-like chest. Stuck in one eye, I saw the gleam of a wicked butcher’s knife. It had sliced the eye in half, the blade disappearing deeply into his brain and skull. The other eye stared glassily up at the ceiling.
I heard a light tapping at the bathroom door, a kind of polite knocking that someone might use if they were wondering if it was occupied. I was afraid to breathe. I spun, looking at the wooden door, the only thing standing between me and certain death at this moment.
“Is anyone in there?” a low, raspy voice asked, the same voice that had mumbled about drinking blood. “Occupado?”
“Hey, Question Mark, what the fuck you doing?” the gruff voice of Frank asked. “Did you find him?” His tone rose into one of utter excitement, like a child on his way to Disneyworld.
“The bathroom’s locked,” Question Mark replied. “I think we got a little lamb in there, ready for the slaughter.”
“Ready for the grill, you mean!” Frank said, giving an insane laugh that reminded me of the coldness of empty space. I turned, running over to the old man’s corpse. The game was up, i knew. I wrapped my hands around the sticky, blood-coated handle of the butcher’s knife. I started pulling up, but it was firmly implanted in the old man’s skull. At that moment, I heard a sound that sent waves of terror dancing up my spine: the sound of keys jingling in a lock.
A rush of adrenaline made the world brighten and my vision turn white in the harsh glare of the phone’s light. I laid the phone down on the top of the toilet and, with all of my strength, yanked up on the knife. There was a cracking noise, then a wet sucking sound as cold blood sprayed my face and neck. The knife slipped out in a rush, sending me flying back.
At that moment, the door flew open. Frank and Question Mark stood there, side by side, two grinning lunatics with knives in their hands. The orange light from the sunrise dimly illuminated their silhouettes. They looked over to where the cell phone lay on the toilet, not seeing me leaning against the back wall, breathing heavily in an animal panic. Before they had time to react, I ran forwards, the blade facing out towards my attackers.
Question Mark turned towards me at the last second as I brought the knife into his throat. It sliced easily into the flesh. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he gurgled, choking on his own blood. He tried to bring the meat cleaver up, but his foot slipped on the slick blood coating the floor.
I yanked the knife back out, turning to Frank. I saw a flash of metal and felt something pierce deeply into the side of my stomach. A roaring pain like acid burned its way through my flesh. Screaming as warm spurts of blood shot from the stab wound, I ran at Frank with the last of my energy, stabbing upwards into his belly and aiming at his aorta in the center. We fell into each other, both critically injured. The blood burst from his ruptured artery, spurting like a firehose with each rapid beat of his heart.
His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back, landing on the corpse of Question Mark. Staggering and leaning against the wall, I tried making my way towards the front of the store, but felt the energy draining out of me like water through a sieve. Waves of agony crashed through my body, taking my breath away. I collapsed to my knees, crawling slowly towards salvation. Frothy bubbles of blood flowed over my lips as I coughed, choking.
I heard sirens in the distance, approaching rapidly. It sounded like dozens of police cars were heading in our direction. Screaming and crying, I dragged myself towards the front door, leaving warm streaks of blood smeared across the restaurant floor. The gurgling death gasp of Frank rattled noisily behind me. I could feel my life draining out of the deep stab wound in the side of my stomach.
As I reached the door, police cars came into the restaurant parking lot with a screeching of tires. Men began running out with their guns drawn. The world went black as I reached up towards the door, wanting only to get out of this restaurant and never see this town again.
***
I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Emergency surgery had stopped the bleeding, and many blood transfusions had saved my life. Police were waiting around my bed as I regained consciousness, frantic to ask me questions. I told them I didn’t know anything, that I had just stopped at the restaurant to eat and gotten attacked.
“We had gotten multiple missing persons reports over the last couple weeks,” the gruff homicide detective with a face like a bulldog said, “but we didn’t connect the victims to the diner until the day we found you there. Both of the escaped patients are dead, though, thanks to you.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook my head, too weary to respond. If only they had investigated sooner, I could have avoided this entire nightmare.
But, then again, I wouldn’t have tasted the best Reuben sandwich in the universe, either.
submitted by CIAHerpes to ZakBabyTV_Stories [link] [comments]
The passenger was a strange, quiet man with a greasy T-shirt. His brown eyes looked flat and dead. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I dropped him off at a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, making sure he left my car so he could wander off and wear a mask made of human skin or whatever people like that did on their days off. The house looked like something from a horror movie, all sharp turrets and dark windows with a blood-red exterior.
Dawn came early that day, a cancerous orange sky looming overhead. Needles of rain abruptly started falling sideways. Tired and hungry, I kept an eye out for somewhere to stop and eat as I drove through the filthy torrents of rain. I turned on the GPS for my apartment and sped through the dirty, empty streets of Frost Hollow.
Dark, dead trees rose overhead on both sides of me. I drove on for a few minutes, seeing only a single house far back at the beginning of the road that entire time. I didn’t know this area, so I was pleasantly surprised when a brightly-lit diner appeared on my left. A blinking sign cheerily read “Happy’s Restaurant”.
The parking lot was entirely empty except for a truck that looked like it had been there for weeks. Leaves and dirt covered its windshield, and someone had written “CLEAN ME” in the grime in giant letters. I heaved a deep yawn as I pulled into the parking lot. I tried to check my phone, but there was no internet or service all the way out here. I hoped they had Wi-fi in the diner.
Happy’s Restaurant had enormous plate-glass windows wrapping around the sides and front of the restaurant. Light burst out onto the dark parking lot in harsh white streams as birds chirped in the forests around me, waking up to the new dawn. The architecture of the place looked straight out of the 1950s. I could imagine James Dean going there and chain-smoking cigarettes over a burger and a coffee.
I got out of the car, heading over to the front of the restaurant where I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The spicy menthol tobacco gave me a sudden jolt of energy. Blinking quickly, I smoked the cigarette as quickly as I could, feeling wide awake by the end of it. I stood under the canopy of the building, watching lightning erupt like missile flashes across the sky. The street remained dead and empty. I hadn’t seen a single other person since I had dropped off the weirdo at the nearby Victorian house.
I opened the glass door of the diner, hearing a bell ring overhead. I looked into the empty restaurant, seeing its sparkling clean tables. The smell of fresh coffee rose out in fragrant waves. Shrugging, I went down and sat at a table next to a TV in the corner. It was playing some twenty-four hour news channel, talking about a mass break-out in a nearby mental asylum.
“Two patients of the Graypath Psychiatric Hospital were able to break out by murdering a doctor and taking a nurse hostage. They had apparently planned the attack for weeks, making homemade knives out of screws taken out of the walls and other contraband that went undetected. The facility is considered a maximum-security hospital, with the majority of patients considered criminally insane and held until…”
“Hey, sorry bud, didn’t see you there,” a voice called out from the back of the empty restaurant. I jumped, turning to see who was speaking.
A man came out in a streaked, dirty apron. He was incredibly fat, probably at least three or four hundred pounds. Four greasy chins hung down on his neck like the wattles of a rooster. He reminded me of a circus freak, a slug-like man whose heavy footsteps shook the ground as he approached my table. He had red hands like a butcher. His face, too, was beet-red and covered in sweat with a tiny nose in the middle and giant, rubbery lips. His nametag said, “Frank”.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “What can I get for you? Our waiter never showed up so I’m the only guy here. I’ll have to take your order and cook it, if that’s OK.” I nodded happily.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just want a coffee with extra cream and sugar and a Reuben with fries and an extra side of coleslaw.” He wrote it down on a dirt-streaked pad he pulled from his apron, taking a very long time and writing as slowly as possible. I watched his face closely. He reminded me of a clown, but his eyes were gray, the color of steel. They seemed freezing cold, almost inhuman. There was nothing clownish about them.
“OK, bud, that’ll be right up,” he said, grinning down at me. His yellowed teeth were covered in a thick layer of filmy grime. I noticed that some in the front were broken, as if he had a habit of getting his teeth knocked out in fights. He turned around, heading back into the kitchen in his strange, waddling gait. I wondered how Frank had gotten here. There was certainly no public transportation anywhere in this part of the state. But I figured he must have gotten dropped off. I looked down at my phone, hoping to find an open Wi-Fi connection to pass the time, but there was nothing here. Sighing, I looked around the restaurant.
A creepy clown mannequin stood in the corner, holding a sign that read, “BE HAPPY. EAT THOSE FEELINGS AWAY.” Its red-and-white make-up was all sharp points and hard angles. Around its grinning mouth, the red paint formed into a pointed half-circle, accentuating the gleaming white teeth that shone between its thin lips.
A few moments later, Frank came out with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers and sugar packets. He plopped them down in front of me, grunting and ambling back towards the kitchen. I smelled the odor of roasting meat and cooking oil rising from the kitchen in delicious, aromatic waves.
I couldn’t wait for my Reuben. Out of all sandwiches in the history of sandwiches, I thought Reubens were probably the most delicious. The way the corned beef mixed with the Thousand Island dressing, sauerkraut and marble rye bread made it seem like those ingredients were made by God specifically to make such a divine sandwich.
My stomach growled as I waited eagerly. I continued scanning the restaurant, listening to the hum of the TV next to me when I spotted what looked like spatters of blood in front of the swinging kitchen doors. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a teenager, a crappy little pizza place, and I remembered how the ground beef always came soaked in wet blood. I found it odd that no one had cleaned it up yet, though. It looked dried and clotted, as if it had been there for days.
The TV was still talking about the escaped mental patients when Frank brought out a giant plate of delicious, fragrant sandwich and golden fries. I could feel my mouth watering as he laid it out with a clunk on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy, buddy,” he said, giving me a sly wink. His fish-like lips formed into a faint half-smile. He turned away, and I immediately dug in.
The Reuben was probably the best Reuben I’ve ever tasted. The corned beef was perfectly cooked, the bread crisp and fresh. The fries were golden and had a nice, satisfying crunch. I wanted to compliment Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, I finished the first half of my sandwich.
As I got to the last bite, I noticed something odd and crunchy in the meat. I thought it was a coin or something at first. I immediately spit out the entire wad of half-chewed sandwich onto a napkin, looking down.
In the middle of the meat sat a painted human fingernail. It was ripped-off, the bottom jagged and sharp. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to vomit.
***
I sat there for a few seconds, simply staring, my mind racing in circles like a rat in a wheel. Was it a fake fingernail? How had it gotten into my sandwich?
I picked it up, bringing it closer to my right eye. I saw black, clotted blood and thin strands of flesh still hanging from the bottom. It was definitely not fake.
Rising quickly, I grabbed my car keys and phone off the table and started stumbling towards the door. There were no rational thoughts at that moment, just an insistent rising sense of panic and dread. That was the moment the lights at the diner cut out. An eerie, gurgling laugh floated out of the kitchen.
The cancerous yellow light of the new day was filtering through the stormy clouds. I looked through the plate-glass front door and saw a face peering in with wide, insane eyes. I recognized the man I had dropped off at the Victorian house down the road. He had carved a fresh question mark into his forehead sometime after I had last seen him. His face looked slack and empty as he stared inside, his dead, blank eyes roaming left and right, looking for someone- looking for me.
In his right hand, I saw an enormous meat cleaver streaked with fresh, dripping blood. He raised a trembling left hand and started opening the door. In the darkness and silence of the diner, I could hear every sound amplified a thousand-fold: every drop of rain hitting the roof, every thudding beat of my heart, every tiny creaking of the door as it swung open.
I heard the doors to the kitchen swinging open at the same moment. In terror, I frantically looked around, seeing the bathrooms only a few feet away in the corner of the restaurant. As silently as I could, I slunk towards them, afraid to look back. I ripped open the women’s restroom door, peeking out as I closed it behind me.
I could see the man holding the meat cleaver slowly creeping past the tables, bending over to check underneath them. I could hear him whispering to himself.
“I must baptize them in the blood and send them out into the world,” he muttered quietly. “Must find the blood… eat the body, drink the blood to see God…”
Silently, I closed the door and groped around in the dark until I found the lock. Inhaling deeply, I clicked it to the side. The subtle clicking noise seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and turned, seeing a scene from a nightmare. Corpses littered the floor of the bathroom. A waitress in a button-up vest sat up against the wall in a corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with dark brown eyes, black hair and pale, creamy skin. Dozens of deep stab wounds gleamed in her chest and stomach. Her neck had been so deeply slashed that her head had nearly been decapitated.
Even worse, I saw chunks of flesh cut out of her body, chunks from the meat of her cheeks, arms, legs and fingers. I suddenly had a very good idea of where the fingernail had come from and what I had been eating. I gagged, retching.
Next to her sprawled the corpse of an old man in a business suit. His shirt and jacket had been ripped open, and a giant question mark carved deeply into the loose skin of his bird-like chest. Stuck in one eye, I saw the gleam of a wicked butcher’s knife. It had sliced the eye in half, the blade disappearing deeply into his brain and skull. The other eye stared glassily up at the ceiling.
I heard a light tapping at the bathroom door, a kind of polite knocking that someone might use if they were wondering if it was occupied. I was afraid to breathe. I spun, looking at the wooden door, the only thing standing between me and certain death at this moment.
“Is anyone in there?” a low, raspy voice asked, the same voice that had mumbled about drinking blood. “Occupado?”
“Hey, Question Mark, what the fuck you doing?” the gruff voice of Frank asked. “Did you find him?” His tone rose into one of utter excitement, like a child on his way to Disneyworld.
“The bathroom’s locked,” Question Mark replied. “I think we got a little lamb in there, ready for the slaughter.”
“Ready for the grill, you mean!” Frank said, giving an insane laugh that reminded me of the coldness of empty space. I turned, running over to the old man’s corpse. The game was up, i knew. I wrapped my hands around the sticky, blood-coated handle of the butcher’s knife. I started pulling up, but it was firmly implanted in the old man’s skull. At that moment, I heard a sound that sent waves of terror dancing up my spine: the sound of keys jingling in a lock.
A rush of adrenaline made the world brighten and my vision turn white in the harsh glare of the phone’s light. I laid the phone down on the top of the toilet and, with all of my strength, yanked up on the knife. There was a cracking noise, then a wet sucking sound as cold blood sprayed my face and neck. The knife slipped out in a rush, sending me flying back.
At that moment, the door flew open. Frank and Question Mark stood there, side by side, two grinning lunatics with knives in their hands. The orange light from the sunrise dimly illuminated their silhouettes. They looked over to where the cell phone lay on the toilet, not seeing me leaning against the back wall, breathing heavily in an animal panic. Before they had time to react, I ran forwards, the blade facing out towards my attackers.
Question Mark turned towards me at the last second as I brought the knife into his throat. It sliced easily into the flesh. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he gurgled, choking on his own blood. He tried to bring the meat cleaver up, but his foot slipped on the slick blood coating the floor.
I yanked the knife back out, turning to Frank. I saw a flash of metal and felt something pierce deeply into the side of my stomach. A roaring pain like acid burned its way through my flesh. Screaming as warm spurts of blood shot from the stab wound, I ran at Frank with the last of my energy, stabbing upwards into his belly and aiming at his aorta in the center. We fell into each other, both critically injured. The blood burst from his ruptured artery, spurting like a firehose with each rapid beat of his heart.
His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back, landing on the corpse of Question Mark. Staggering and leaning against the wall, I tried making my way towards the front of the store, but felt the energy draining out of me like water through a sieve. Waves of agony crashed through my body, taking my breath away. I collapsed to my knees, crawling slowly towards salvation. Frothy bubbles of blood flowed over my lips as I coughed, choking.
I heard sirens in the distance, approaching rapidly. It sounded like dozens of police cars were heading in our direction. Screaming and crying, I dragged myself towards the front door, leaving warm streaks of blood smeared across the restaurant floor. The gurgling death gasp of Frank rattled noisily behind me. I could feel my life draining out of the deep stab wound in the side of my stomach.
As I reached the door, police cars came into the restaurant parking lot with a screeching of tires. Men began running out with their guns drawn. The world went black as I reached up towards the door, wanting only to get out of this restaurant and never see this town again.
***
I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Emergency surgery had stopped the bleeding, and many blood transfusions had saved my life. Police were waiting around my bed as I regained consciousness, frantic to ask me questions. I told them I didn’t know anything, that I had just stopped at the restaurant to eat and gotten attacked.
“We had gotten multiple missing persons reports over the last couple weeks,” the gruff homicide detective with a face like a bulldog said, “but we didn’t connect the victims to the diner until the day we found you there. Both of the escaped patients are dead, though, thanks to you.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook my head, too weary to respond. If only they had investigated sooner, I could have avoided this entire nightmare.
But, then again, I wouldn’t have tasted the best Reuben sandwich in the universe, either.
2024.05.23 01:23 CIAHerpes Don’t eat at the diner called Happy’s Restaurant. They serve absolutely delicious human meat.
I lost my job a couple months ago when the entire business I worked for abruptly went bankrupt and shut down. To make ends meet, I started driving for Uber late into the night. It was about 3:30 or 4 AM when I made the last drop-off on the night it happened.
The passenger was a strange, quiet man with a greasy T-shirt. His brown eyes looked flat and dead. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I dropped him off at a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, making sure he left my car so he could wander off and wear a mask made of human skin or whatever people like that did on their days off. The house looked like something from a horror movie, all sharp turrets and dark windows with a blood-red exterior.
Dawn came early that day, a cancerous orange sky looming overhead. Needles of rain abruptly started falling sideways. Tired and hungry, I kept an eye out for somewhere to stop and eat as I drove through the filthy torrents of rain. I turned on the GPS for my apartment and sped through the dirty, empty streets of Frost Hollow.
Dark, dead trees rose overhead on both sides of me. I drove on for a few minutes, seeing only a single house far back at the beginning of the road that entire time. I didn’t know this area, so I was pleasantly surprised when a brightly-lit diner appeared on my left. A blinking sign cheerily read “Happy’s Restaurant”.
The parking lot was entirely empty except for a truck that looked like it had been there for weeks. Leaves and dirt covered its windshield, and someone had written “CLEAN ME” in the grime in giant letters. I heaved a deep yawn as I pulled into the parking lot. I tried to check my phone, but there was no internet or service all the way out here. I hoped they had Wi-fi in the diner.
Happy’s Restaurant had enormous plate-glass windows wrapping around the sides and front of the restaurant. Light burst out onto the dark parking lot in harsh white streams as birds chirped in the forests around me, waking up to the new dawn. The architecture of the place looked straight out of the 1950s. I could imagine James Dean going there and chain-smoking cigarettes over a burger and a coffee.
I got out of the car, heading over to the front of the restaurant where I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The spicy menthol tobacco gave me a sudden jolt of energy. Blinking quickly, I smoked the cigarette as quickly as I could, feeling wide awake by the end of it. I stood under the canopy of the building, watching lightning erupt like missile flashes across the sky. The street remained dead and empty. I hadn’t seen a single other person since I had dropped off the weirdo at the nearby Victorian house.
I opened the glass door of the diner, hearing a bell ring overhead. I looked into the empty restaurant, seeing its sparkling clean tables. The smell of fresh coffee rose out in fragrant waves. Shrugging, I went down and sat at a table next to a TV in the corner. It was playing some twenty-four hour news channel, talking about a mass break-out in a nearby mental asylum.
“Two patients of the Graypath Psychiatric Hospital were able to break out by murdering a doctor and taking a nurse hostage. They had apparently planned the attack for weeks, making homemade knives out of screws taken out of the walls and other contraband that went undetected. The facility is considered a maximum-security hospital, with the majority of patients considered criminally insane and held until…”
“Hey, sorry bud, didn’t see you there,” a voice called out from the back of the empty restaurant. I jumped, turning to see who was speaking.
A man came out in a streaked, dirty apron. He was incredibly fat, probably at least three or four hundred pounds. Four greasy chins hung down on his neck like the wattles of a rooster. He reminded me of a circus freak, a slug-like man whose heavy footsteps shook the ground as he approached my table. He had red hands like a butcher. His face, too, was beet-red and covered in sweat with a tiny nose in the middle and giant, rubbery lips. His nametag said, “Frank”.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “What can I get for you? Our waiter never showed up so I’m the only guy here. I’ll have to take your order and cook it, if that’s OK.” I nodded happily.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just want a coffee with extra cream and sugar and a Reuben with fries and an extra side of coleslaw.” He wrote it down on a dirt-streaked pad he pulled from his apron, taking a very long time and writing as slowly as possible. I watched his face closely. He reminded me of a clown, but his eyes were gray, the color of steel. They seemed freezing cold, almost inhuman. There was nothing clownish about them.
“OK, bud, that’ll be right up,” he said, grinning down at me. His yellowed teeth were covered in a thick layer of filmy grime. I noticed that some in the front were broken, as if he had a habit of getting his teeth knocked out in fights. He turned around, heading back into the kitchen in his strange, waddling gait. I wondered how Frank had gotten here. There was certainly no public transportation anywhere in this part of the state. But I figured he must have gotten dropped off. I looked down at my phone, hoping to find an open Wi-Fi connection to pass the time, but there was nothing here. Sighing, I looked around the restaurant.
A creepy clown mannequin stood in the corner, holding a sign that read, “BE HAPPY. EAT THOSE FEELINGS AWAY.” Its red-and-white make-up was all sharp points and hard angles. Around its grinning mouth, the red paint formed into a pointed half-circle, accentuating the gleaming white teeth that shone between its thin lips.
A few moments later, Frank came out with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers and sugar packets. He plopped them down in front of me, grunting and ambling back towards the kitchen. I smelled the odor of roasting meat and cooking oil rising from the kitchen in delicious, aromatic waves.
I couldn’t wait for my Reuben. Out of all sandwiches in the history of sandwiches, I thought Reubens were probably the most delicious. The way the corned beef mixed with the Thousand Island dressing, sauerkraut and marble rye bread made it seem like those ingredients were made by God specifically to make such a divine sandwich.
My stomach growled as I waited eagerly. I continued scanning the restaurant, listening to the hum of the TV next to me when I spotted what looked like spatters of blood in front of the swinging kitchen doors. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a teenager, a crappy little pizza place, and I remembered how the ground beef always came soaked in wet blood. I found it odd that no one had cleaned it up yet, though. It looked dried and clotted, as if it had been there for days.
The TV was still talking about the escaped mental patients when Frank brought out a giant plate of delicious, fragrant sandwich and golden fries. I could feel my mouth watering as he laid it out with a clunk on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy, buddy,” he said, giving me a sly wink. His fish-like lips formed into a faint half-smile. He turned away, and I immediately dug in.
The Reuben was probably the best Reuben I’ve ever tasted. The corned beef was perfectly cooked, the bread crisp and fresh. The fries were golden and had a nice, satisfying crunch. I wanted to compliment Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, I finished the first half of my sandwich.
As I got to the last bite, I noticed something odd and crunchy in the meat. I thought it was a coin or something at first. I immediately spit out the entire wad of half-chewed sandwich onto a napkin, looking down.
In the middle of the meat sat a painted human fingernail. It was ripped-off, the bottom jagged and sharp. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to vomit.
***
I sat there for a few seconds, simply staring, my mind racing in circles like a rat in a wheel. Was it a fake fingernail? How had it gotten into my sandwich?
I picked it up, bringing it closer to my right eye. I saw black, clotted blood and thin strands of flesh still hanging from the bottom. It was definitely not fake.
Rising quickly, I grabbed my car keys and phone off the table and started stumbling towards the door. There were no rational thoughts at that moment, just an insistent rising sense of panic and dread. That was the moment the lights at the diner cut out. An eerie, gurgling laugh floated out of the kitchen.
The cancerous yellow light of the new day was filtering through the stormy clouds. I looked through the plate-glass front door and saw a face peering in with wide, insane eyes. I recognized the man I had dropped off at the Victorian house down the road. He had carved a fresh question mark into his forehead sometime after I had last seen him. His face looked slack and empty as he stared inside, his dead, blank eyes roaming left and right, looking for someone- looking for me.
In his right hand, I saw an enormous meat cleaver streaked with fresh, dripping blood. He raised a trembling left hand and started opening the door. In the darkness and silence of the diner, I could hear every sound amplified a thousand-fold: every drop of rain hitting the roof, every thudding beat of my heart, every tiny creaking of the door as it swung open.
I heard the doors to the kitchen swinging open at the same moment. In terror, I frantically looked around, seeing the bathrooms only a few feet away in the corner of the restaurant. As silently as I could, I slunk towards them, afraid to look back. I ripped open the women’s restroom door, peeking out as I closed it behind me.
I could see the man holding the meat cleaver slowly creeping past the tables, bending over to check underneath them. I could hear him whispering to himself.
“I must baptize them in the blood and send them out into the world,” he muttered quietly. “Must find the blood… eat the body, drink the blood to see God…”
Silently, I closed the door and groped around in the dark until I found the lock. Inhaling deeply, I clicked it to the side. The subtle clicking noise seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and turned, seeing a scene from a nightmare. Corpses littered the floor of the bathroom. A waitress in a button-up vest sat up against the wall in a corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with dark brown eyes, black hair and pale, creamy skin. Dozens of deep stab wounds gleamed in her chest and stomach. Her neck had been so deeply slashed that her head had nearly been decapitated.
Even worse, I saw chunks of flesh cut out of her body, chunks from the meat of her cheeks, arms, legs and fingers. I suddenly had a very good idea of where the fingernail had come from and what I had been eating. I gagged, retching.
Next to her sprawled the corpse of an old man in a business suit. His shirt and jacket had been ripped open, and a giant question mark carved deeply into the loose skin of his bird-like chest. Stuck in one eye, I saw the gleam of a wicked butcher’s knife. It had sliced the eye in half, the blade disappearing deeply into his brain and skull. The other eye stared glassily up at the ceiling.
I heard a light tapping at the bathroom door, a kind of polite knocking that someone might use if they were wondering if it was occupied. I was afraid to breathe. I spun, looking at the wooden door, the only thing standing between me and certain death at this moment.
“Is anyone in there?” a low, raspy voice asked, the same voice that had mumbled about drinking blood. “Occupado?”
“Hey, Question Mark, what the fuck you doing?” the gruff voice of Frank asked. “Did you find him?” His tone rose into one of utter excitement, like a child on his way to Disneyworld.
“The bathroom’s locked,” Question Mark replied. “I think we got a little lamb in there, ready for the slaughter.”
“Ready for the grill, you mean!” Frank said, giving an insane laugh that reminded me of the coldness of empty space. I turned, running over to the old man’s corpse. The game was up, i knew. I wrapped my hands around the sticky, blood-coated handle of the butcher’s knife. I started pulling up, but it was firmly implanted in the old man’s skull. At that moment, I heard a sound that sent waves of terror dancing up my spine: the sound of keys jingling in a lock.
A rush of adrenaline made the world brighten and my vision turn white in the harsh glare of the phone’s light. I laid the phone down on the top of the toilet and, with all of my strength, yanked up on the knife. There was a cracking noise, then a wet sucking sound as cold blood sprayed my face and neck. The knife slipped out in a rush, sending me flying back.
At that moment, the door flew open. Frank and Question Mark stood there, side by side, two grinning lunatics with knives in their hands. The orange light from the sunrise dimly illuminated their silhouettes. They looked over to where the cell phone lay on the toilet, not seeing me leaning against the back wall, breathing heavily in an animal panic. Before they had time to react, I ran forwards, the blade facing out towards my attackers.
Question Mark turned towards me at the last second as I brought the knife into his throat. It sliced easily into the flesh. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he gurgled, choking on his own blood. He tried to bring the meat cleaver up, but his foot slipped on the slick blood coating the floor.
I yanked the knife back out, turning to Frank. I saw a flash of metal and felt something pierce deeply into the side of my stomach. A roaring pain like acid burned its way through my flesh. Screaming as warm spurts of blood shot from the stab wound, I ran at Frank with the last of my energy, stabbing upwards into his belly and aiming at his aorta in the center. We fell into each other, both critically injured. The blood burst from his ruptured artery, spurting like a firehose with each rapid beat of his heart.
His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back, landing on the corpse of Question Mark. Staggering and leaning against the wall, I tried making my way towards the front of the store, but felt the energy draining out of me like water through a sieve. Waves of agony crashed through my body, taking my breath away. I collapsed to my knees, crawling slowly towards salvation. Frothy bubbles of blood flowed over my lips as I coughed, choking.
I heard sirens in the distance, approaching rapidly. It sounded like dozens of police cars were heading in our direction. Screaming and crying, I dragged myself towards the front door, leaving warm streaks of blood smeared across the restaurant floor. The gurgling death gasp of Frank rattled noisily behind me. I could feel my life draining out of the deep stab wound in the side of my stomach.
As I reached the door, police cars came into the restaurant parking lot with a screeching of tires. Men began running out with their guns drawn. The world went black as I reached up towards the door, wanting only to get out of this restaurant and never see this town again.
***
I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Emergency surgery had stopped the bleeding, and many blood transfusions had saved my life. Police were waiting around my bed as I regained consciousness, frantic to ask me questions. I told them I didn’t know anything, that I had just stopped at the restaurant to eat and gotten attacked.
“We had gotten multiple missing persons reports over the last couple weeks,” the gruff homicide detective with a face like a bulldog said, “but we didn’t connect the victims to the diner until the day we found you there. Both of the escaped patients are dead, though, thanks to you.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook my head, too weary to respond. If only they had investigated sooner, I could have avoided this entire nightmare.
But, then again, I wouldn’t have tasted the best Reuben sandwich in the universe, either.
submitted by CIAHerpes to horrorstories [link] [comments]
The passenger was a strange, quiet man with a greasy T-shirt. His brown eyes looked flat and dead. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I dropped him off at a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, making sure he left my car so he could wander off and wear a mask made of human skin or whatever people like that did on their days off. The house looked like something from a horror movie, all sharp turrets and dark windows with a blood-red exterior.
Dawn came early that day, a cancerous orange sky looming overhead. Needles of rain abruptly started falling sideways. Tired and hungry, I kept an eye out for somewhere to stop and eat as I drove through the filthy torrents of rain. I turned on the GPS for my apartment and sped through the dirty, empty streets of Frost Hollow.
Dark, dead trees rose overhead on both sides of me. I drove on for a few minutes, seeing only a single house far back at the beginning of the road that entire time. I didn’t know this area, so I was pleasantly surprised when a brightly-lit diner appeared on my left. A blinking sign cheerily read “Happy’s Restaurant”.
The parking lot was entirely empty except for a truck that looked like it had been there for weeks. Leaves and dirt covered its windshield, and someone had written “CLEAN ME” in the grime in giant letters. I heaved a deep yawn as I pulled into the parking lot. I tried to check my phone, but there was no internet or service all the way out here. I hoped they had Wi-fi in the diner.
Happy’s Restaurant had enormous plate-glass windows wrapping around the sides and front of the restaurant. Light burst out onto the dark parking lot in harsh white streams as birds chirped in the forests around me, waking up to the new dawn. The architecture of the place looked straight out of the 1950s. I could imagine James Dean going there and chain-smoking cigarettes over a burger and a coffee.
I got out of the car, heading over to the front of the restaurant where I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The spicy menthol tobacco gave me a sudden jolt of energy. Blinking quickly, I smoked the cigarette as quickly as I could, feeling wide awake by the end of it. I stood under the canopy of the building, watching lightning erupt like missile flashes across the sky. The street remained dead and empty. I hadn’t seen a single other person since I had dropped off the weirdo at the nearby Victorian house.
I opened the glass door of the diner, hearing a bell ring overhead. I looked into the empty restaurant, seeing its sparkling clean tables. The smell of fresh coffee rose out in fragrant waves. Shrugging, I went down and sat at a table next to a TV in the corner. It was playing some twenty-four hour news channel, talking about a mass break-out in a nearby mental asylum.
“Two patients of the Graypath Psychiatric Hospital were able to break out by murdering a doctor and taking a nurse hostage. They had apparently planned the attack for weeks, making homemade knives out of screws taken out of the walls and other contraband that went undetected. The facility is considered a maximum-security hospital, with the majority of patients considered criminally insane and held until…”
“Hey, sorry bud, didn’t see you there,” a voice called out from the back of the empty restaurant. I jumped, turning to see who was speaking.
A man came out in a streaked, dirty apron. He was incredibly fat, probably at least three or four hundred pounds. Four greasy chins hung down on his neck like the wattles of a rooster. He reminded me of a circus freak, a slug-like man whose heavy footsteps shook the ground as he approached my table. He had red hands like a butcher. His face, too, was beet-red and covered in sweat with a tiny nose in the middle and giant, rubbery lips. His nametag said, “Frank”.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “What can I get for you? Our waiter never showed up so I’m the only guy here. I’ll have to take your order and cook it, if that’s OK.” I nodded happily.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I just want a coffee with extra cream and sugar and a Reuben with fries and an extra side of coleslaw.” He wrote it down on a dirt-streaked pad he pulled from his apron, taking a very long time and writing as slowly as possible. I watched his face closely. He reminded me of a clown, but his eyes were gray, the color of steel. They seemed freezing cold, almost inhuman. There was nothing clownish about them.
“OK, bud, that’ll be right up,” he said, grinning down at me. His yellowed teeth were covered in a thick layer of filmy grime. I noticed that some in the front were broken, as if he had a habit of getting his teeth knocked out in fights. He turned around, heading back into the kitchen in his strange, waddling gait. I wondered how Frank had gotten here. There was certainly no public transportation anywhere in this part of the state. But I figured he must have gotten dropped off. I looked down at my phone, hoping to find an open Wi-Fi connection to pass the time, but there was nothing here. Sighing, I looked around the restaurant.
A creepy clown mannequin stood in the corner, holding a sign that read, “BE HAPPY. EAT THOSE FEELINGS AWAY.” Its red-and-white make-up was all sharp points and hard angles. Around its grinning mouth, the red paint formed into a pointed half-circle, accentuating the gleaming white teeth that shone between its thin lips.
A few moments later, Frank came out with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers and sugar packets. He plopped them down in front of me, grunting and ambling back towards the kitchen. I smelled the odor of roasting meat and cooking oil rising from the kitchen in delicious, aromatic waves.
I couldn’t wait for my Reuben. Out of all sandwiches in the history of sandwiches, I thought Reubens were probably the most delicious. The way the corned beef mixed with the Thousand Island dressing, sauerkraut and marble rye bread made it seem like those ingredients were made by God specifically to make such a divine sandwich.
My stomach growled as I waited eagerly. I continued scanning the restaurant, listening to the hum of the TV next to me when I spotted what looked like spatters of blood in front of the swinging kitchen doors. I used to work in a restaurant when I was a teenager, a crappy little pizza place, and I remembered how the ground beef always came soaked in wet blood. I found it odd that no one had cleaned it up yet, though. It looked dried and clotted, as if it had been there for days.
The TV was still talking about the escaped mental patients when Frank brought out a giant plate of delicious, fragrant sandwich and golden fries. I could feel my mouth watering as he laid it out with a clunk on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy, buddy,” he said, giving me a sly wink. His fish-like lips formed into a faint half-smile. He turned away, and I immediately dug in.
The Reuben was probably the best Reuben I’ve ever tasted. The corned beef was perfectly cooked, the bread crisp and fresh. The fries were golden and had a nice, satisfying crunch. I wanted to compliment Frank, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, I finished the first half of my sandwich.
As I got to the last bite, I noticed something odd and crunchy in the meat. I thought it was a coin or something at first. I immediately spit out the entire wad of half-chewed sandwich onto a napkin, looking down.
In the middle of the meat sat a painted human fingernail. It was ripped-off, the bottom jagged and sharp. At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to vomit.
***
I sat there for a few seconds, simply staring, my mind racing in circles like a rat in a wheel. Was it a fake fingernail? How had it gotten into my sandwich?
I picked it up, bringing it closer to my right eye. I saw black, clotted blood and thin strands of flesh still hanging from the bottom. It was definitely not fake.
Rising quickly, I grabbed my car keys and phone off the table and started stumbling towards the door. There were no rational thoughts at that moment, just an insistent rising sense of panic and dread. That was the moment the lights at the diner cut out. An eerie, gurgling laugh floated out of the kitchen.
The cancerous yellow light of the new day was filtering through the stormy clouds. I looked through the plate-glass front door and saw a face peering in with wide, insane eyes. I recognized the man I had dropped off at the Victorian house down the road. He had carved a fresh question mark into his forehead sometime after I had last seen him. His face looked slack and empty as he stared inside, his dead, blank eyes roaming left and right, looking for someone- looking for me.
In his right hand, I saw an enormous meat cleaver streaked with fresh, dripping blood. He raised a trembling left hand and started opening the door. In the darkness and silence of the diner, I could hear every sound amplified a thousand-fold: every drop of rain hitting the roof, every thudding beat of my heart, every tiny creaking of the door as it swung open.
I heard the doors to the kitchen swinging open at the same moment. In terror, I frantically looked around, seeing the bathrooms only a few feet away in the corner of the restaurant. As silently as I could, I slunk towards them, afraid to look back. I ripped open the women’s restroom door, peeking out as I closed it behind me.
I could see the man holding the meat cleaver slowly creeping past the tables, bending over to check underneath them. I could hear him whispering to himself.
“I must baptize them in the blood and send them out into the world,” he muttered quietly. “Must find the blood… eat the body, drink the blood to see God…”
Silently, I closed the door and groped around in the dark until I found the lock. Inhaling deeply, I clicked it to the side. The subtle clicking noise seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
I took my cell phone out of my pocket and turned, seeing a scene from a nightmare. Corpses littered the floor of the bathroom. A waitress in a button-up vest sat up against the wall in a corner. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with dark brown eyes, black hair and pale, creamy skin. Dozens of deep stab wounds gleamed in her chest and stomach. Her neck had been so deeply slashed that her head had nearly been decapitated.
Even worse, I saw chunks of flesh cut out of her body, chunks from the meat of her cheeks, arms, legs and fingers. I suddenly had a very good idea of where the fingernail had come from and what I had been eating. I gagged, retching.
Next to her sprawled the corpse of an old man in a business suit. His shirt and jacket had been ripped open, and a giant question mark carved deeply into the loose skin of his bird-like chest. Stuck in one eye, I saw the gleam of a wicked butcher’s knife. It had sliced the eye in half, the blade disappearing deeply into his brain and skull. The other eye stared glassily up at the ceiling.
I heard a light tapping at the bathroom door, a kind of polite knocking that someone might use if they were wondering if it was occupied. I was afraid to breathe. I spun, looking at the wooden door, the only thing standing between me and certain death at this moment.
“Is anyone in there?” a low, raspy voice asked, the same voice that had mumbled about drinking blood. “Occupado?”
“Hey, Question Mark, what the fuck you doing?” the gruff voice of Frank asked. “Did you find him?” His tone rose into one of utter excitement, like a child on his way to Disneyworld.
“The bathroom’s locked,” Question Mark replied. “I think we got a little lamb in there, ready for the slaughter.”
“Ready for the grill, you mean!” Frank said, giving an insane laugh that reminded me of the coldness of empty space. I turned, running over to the old man’s corpse. The game was up, i knew. I wrapped my hands around the sticky, blood-coated handle of the butcher’s knife. I started pulling up, but it was firmly implanted in the old man’s skull. At that moment, I heard a sound that sent waves of terror dancing up my spine: the sound of keys jingling in a lock.
A rush of adrenaline made the world brighten and my vision turn white in the harsh glare of the phone’s light. I laid the phone down on the top of the toilet and, with all of my strength, yanked up on the knife. There was a cracking noise, then a wet sucking sound as cold blood sprayed my face and neck. The knife slipped out in a rush, sending me flying back.
At that moment, the door flew open. Frank and Question Mark stood there, side by side, two grinning lunatics with knives in their hands. The orange light from the sunrise dimly illuminated their silhouettes. They looked over to where the cell phone lay on the toilet, not seeing me leaning against the back wall, breathing heavily in an animal panic. Before they had time to react, I ran forwards, the blade facing out towards my attackers.
Question Mark turned towards me at the last second as I brought the knife into his throat. It sliced easily into the flesh. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he gurgled, choking on his own blood. He tried to bring the meat cleaver up, but his foot slipped on the slick blood coating the floor.
I yanked the knife back out, turning to Frank. I saw a flash of metal and felt something pierce deeply into the side of my stomach. A roaring pain like acid burned its way through my flesh. Screaming as warm spurts of blood shot from the stab wound, I ran at Frank with the last of my energy, stabbing upwards into his belly and aiming at his aorta in the center. We fell into each other, both critically injured. The blood burst from his ruptured artery, spurting like a firehose with each rapid beat of his heart.
His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back, landing on the corpse of Question Mark. Staggering and leaning against the wall, I tried making my way towards the front of the store, but felt the energy draining out of me like water through a sieve. Waves of agony crashed through my body, taking my breath away. I collapsed to my knees, crawling slowly towards salvation. Frothy bubbles of blood flowed over my lips as I coughed, choking.
I heard sirens in the distance, approaching rapidly. It sounded like dozens of police cars were heading in our direction. Screaming and crying, I dragged myself towards the front door, leaving warm streaks of blood smeared across the restaurant floor. The gurgling death gasp of Frank rattled noisily behind me. I could feel my life draining out of the deep stab wound in the side of my stomach.
As I reached the door, police cars came into the restaurant parking lot with a screeching of tires. Men began running out with their guns drawn. The world went black as I reached up towards the door, wanting only to get out of this restaurant and never see this town again.
***
I woke up in the hospital a couple days later. Emergency surgery had stopped the bleeding, and many blood transfusions had saved my life. Police were waiting around my bed as I regained consciousness, frantic to ask me questions. I told them I didn’t know anything, that I had just stopped at the restaurant to eat and gotten attacked.
“We had gotten multiple missing persons reports over the last couple weeks,” the gruff homicide detective with a face like a bulldog said, “but we didn’t connect the victims to the diner until the day we found you there. Both of the escaped patients are dead, though, thanks to you.” He patted me on the shoulder. I shook my head, too weary to respond. If only they had investigated sooner, I could have avoided this entire nightmare.
But, then again, I wouldn’t have tasted the best Reuben sandwich in the universe, either.
2024.05.23 01:23 PotatoChipPhenomenon Porch siding wood
 | New homeowner here. My covered front porch has nice (I think) wood siding which the previous owner probably never cleaned, it was faded, dirty, and mildewy. I pressure washed it this weekend and other than being heavy handed in some areas I think it looks much better. Some in process pics show the difference it made. A few questions: submitted by PotatoChipPhenomenon to woodworking [link] [comments]
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