I received an offer(verbal and writing) at a new district this week, but official paperwork will not be sent and completed until late July. I would like to leave my current school on good terms and was planning to resign on the last day. However, I feel like it would be dumb to resign before the hire is official, right? Luckily I’m not bound to a contract, and know I don’t owe anyone anything, but my position is hard to fill and I genuinely do want a chance to say goodbye to my colleagues.

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Another re-worked chapter. Far less Grand Mages to remember, just the key players this time. Worked to make their positions more clear though their dialogue and some negotiation tactics were on display here.
Zani's character is a lot less aggressive and angsty now! Not everyone got to speak, but that's ok, they were all necessary. All is good in the world.

Crisis of Faith

The seething crowd surged and bucked against the stone-faced City Guard standing at the base of the stairs of the High Sanctuary. Posters and signs waved around in the air, red and black words calling for Vesuvius Blotch to answer to imagined crimes. Forced to abandon their vehicles before arriving at the main bridge connecting Meritorious Square to the Circle, Zani, Tuck and the rest of the City Guard were struggling to make their way to the High Sanctuary itself. Cora and Sentrious enclosed the group in bubbles of air, protecting them from the onslaught of the angry crowd surrounding them. What the bubbles did not do, however, was shield them from the insults and angry voices.
“You’re liars!”
“Exile Blotch! Abolish the City Guard!”
“Burn the Vault down!”
“BipBap was killed to protect Blotch’s power!”
Zani gritted her teeth as she heard people crying for the redemption of BipBap DipDap. The man who had murdered Gravitas Flight. Argentum Chalice. Crescent Pain. A tremor ran up her body as she thought of Crescent, and her eyes fractured from tears. The man who had loved her and looked after her as his brother once had. Murdered during the siege of the High Sanctuary when Mr. Bones, the Arch-Canon of the Faceless Church, and BipBap, his accomplice, had broken in with an army of Hollow Men to steal the documents necessary for them to bring back their race of evil gods. They hadn’t succeeded, and after a long fight, Bones had fled and BipBap was dead. But it hadn’t brought back Crescent. Nothing could.
Doing her best to ignore them, she quickened her pace. Forced to make a quick detour to the Brute to swap their battle-worn attire for the more decorated version of the City Guard uniforms, they were running a few minutes late. After what seemed to have been an eternity, they made it through the crowd, making their way to the doors of the High Sanctuary, where Fenix and another group of Cleavers greeted them. Nodding their goodbyes, the rest of the City Guard detached from them and headed further into the High Sanctuary.
“Mr. Flak, anything you could provide us before going in?” Rylent asked, ever the professional, stepping to the side to allow their Cleavers through as their prisoners were escorted to the cells.
Fenix nodded, handing the commander a sheaf of papers. “The Grand Mages arrived roughly five minutes ago via motorcade. There’s five of them this time. Krytron Glass representing the English Sanctuary, Alfeim Dawn from the Italian Sanctuary, Willow Ardency from Istoria, a Mystical City, and Daemon Steel with his administrator, Aberration De Rais, both from the American Sanctuary.”
Rylent nodded, staring down at the papers. “I’ve met Krytron and Daemon. Both powerful, and they make sure you know about it when you enter a room.”
“But how they present that power differs,” Fenix added. “Krytron likes to lead the conversation, trying to learn from both sides. Daemon has a silver tongue, drawing people close to him before taking them down,” his eyes flickered over to Zani and Tuck. “Don’t underestimate him. He’s still the Grand Mage of America, and he’s known to be fiercely intelligent and ruthless.”
Zani nodded her understanding, carefully examining the administrator’s face as he spoke, trying to spot the tell-tale dark veins of possession. Even now, months after discovering the truth, Zani could hardly believe the man standing before her was a Remnant. Worse yet, the Supreme Mage, Vesuvius Blotch, was aware of it and had hidden it from everyone. Both Zani and Tuck had found it difficult to trust either of them since, and an air of nervousness and tension had developed between them.
“There are three others,” Rylent pointed out. “Aberration De Rais, Daemon’s administrator, whom we know nothing about. Willow Ardency is also an enigma to us.”
“A suitable representative of the Mystical Cities,” Fenix sighed. ‘She’s not the most forthcoming individual. From my understanding, she’s there to listen and determine the threat, and whether the Mystical Cities should get involved.”
Tuck shrugged modestly. “Zani and I have met Ms. Ardency before. She’s cool and is a reasonable woman. I can vouch for her.”
Zani grinned. “Tuck just wants to go back and learn about their sigil magic.” Tuck made a face at her.
“And then Alfeim,” Rylent’s lip curled as he brought the conversation back to the realm of relevancy. “An extremist who will honey his words with slow-acting poison. He hates mortals and anyone who opposes the idea of revealing ourselves.”
“He thinks sorcerers should run the world,” Zani guessed. “How did he become Grand Mage?”
“He was one of Erskine Ravel’s allies,” Fenix murmured, looking at his clipboard. “We weren’t able to deal with him thanks to the return of Abyssinia, the Unnamed and Mevolent. During that time, he took the opportunity to gain allies, and now he’s a weed that refuses to be pulled out.”
Rylent nodded slowly and turned to Zani and Tuck. “I want the pair of you at your best. Not only are these people important officials in our community, but I daresay they will be reporting back to other Grand Mages. We need them to see Ireland unified. Understood?”
They both nodded and Fenix beckoned them forward.
They started walking towards the Hall of Prisms. Leading them through the marble corridors, Zani followed Fenix through two doorways and into a room. Leaving the Cleavers at the doorway, Zani approached the large circular table in the centre of the room. Made of a warm oaken wood, it complemented the darker timber of the source pillars and carvings etched into the walls.
Sitting in the ornate wooden chairs on the right side of the table were most of the Grand Mages, all sitting apart, hoping to avoid appearing as a unified force. Vesuvius had opted for the opposite effect, having his Grand Mages, Maltese Farrell and Veritas Lamarian, sit beside him on the left side.
Out of all of the foreign Grand Mages, only Daemon Steel had bothered to sit near Ireland’s Supreme Mage, sitting on an angle with one arm draped across the back of the chair beside him. The caricature of peace and embodiment of calm. He was wearing a white suit, universally a statement of peace, complete with a crimson kerchief folded perfectly into his pocket over his heart, a stag stitched into it. His family crest.“Ahh, the Prime Detectives of the Irish Sanctuary,” Daemon announced with a grin full of teeth. “We were just being informed that you were on your way. Is Roarhaven giving you a struggle?”
“Not at all, Grand Mage Steel,” Tuck answered smoothly. “We were simply making sure we looked our best before being graced by your presence.”
The man beside Daemon scoffed. “Come now, Mr. Pock. Roarhaven is a magnificent place, filled with everything you could ever need in a city, magic or otherwise. And I must congratulate Ireland on being the first to take the initiative.” Dressed in a navy blue striped suit, his blonde hair combed to one side and deep green eyes, Zani surmised this was the mysterious Aberration De Rais, Daemon Steel’s administrator. She tried to hide the shiver she felt when he looked up at her, feeling those green eyes piercing through her.
“But putting all these sorcerers into one place,” Daemon continued, “can surely create issues,” he moved his index finger from side-to-side. “An elemental has an argument with an enhancer. A bone-breaker poked the wrong chest. A sensitive was caught peeking into someone’s mind. I wouldn’t blame you if you were perhaps a little under the pressure.”
“We’ve been able to handle all incidents so far, sir,” Zani said calmly, grateful to have an excuse to look anywhere but at Aberration. “But we thank you for your concern. It doesn’t go unnoticed.”
Daemon nodded, seemingly satisfied. As Zani, Tuck and Rylent took their seats, the man sitting opposite of Vesuvius rose. His immense shadow stretched across the room, the charcoal double-breasted suit and pants he’d decided to combine with a black pork-pie hat allowing him to blend into the sun as it pierced through the window behind him, blocking his face from them. A perfect style for a man in mourning, a man preparing for murder or for a man conducting serious business. Zani noted the white-grey gloves he had on, and decided upon the third option.
“Gentleman. Ladies,” the man in the charcoal suit inclined his head towards them all, and Zani saw a weathered face of hard lines, framed by flowing dark hair that curled at his shoulders. His eyes, a translucent blue, gave off the illusion that he was blind. She realised she was staring at Krytron Glass, head of the English Sanctuary.
“First, I believe a thanks is in order to Supreme Mage Blotch, for welcoming him into his city,” he nodded at Vesuvius. “Roarhaven truly has not received the justice it deserves from the tales I have heard about it. It is far more magnificent in person.”
Vesuvius nodded his acknowledgement, a professional smile set on his face.
“However, we have also been worried. Being the first sorcerer city, we can only imagine how hard it is to maintain. It’s hard enough dealing with sorcerers in the general public. But when they’re all in one place? A nightmare, I am sure.”
Zani had missed the last part of Krytron’s sentence. After hearing him describe Roarhaven as the ‘first’ sorcerer city, she couldn’t help but look at the only other woman in the room, Willow Ardency. She’d pursed her lips in disapproval, but hadn’t interrupted. She wasn’t one to rise to petty squabbles. Zani couldn’t help but admire the other woman. Her red hair, which was bunched up in a tight bun, paired with her sharp cheekbones and narrow glasses, gave her the appearance of a high school teacher ready to scold her students for messing about. Zani smiled. Though it had been many years since they’d last met, Willow hadn’t changed her style.
“Roarhaven has been standing for twenty-two years,” Vesuvius said calmly. “It has survived multiple onslaughts and battles, and has not been discovered by any mortal. We remain firm to this day.”
“Though you are not incorrect in saying these things, Vesuvius, the mere fact that these onslaughts occurred are worrisome.” A man in crimson robes spoke up. With bushy eyebrows, long grey hair and a goatee, Alfeim Dawn was one of the rare sorcerers that actually looked old. “Since Roarhaven became a city, it has been the breeding ground for every catastrophe in the past twenty-two years. Charivari laid siege upon its walls, Darquesse destroyed a considerable part of it, the Anti-Sanctuary set their plans in motion with the help of Irish Sanctuary staff, the daughter of the Unnamed attempted to reveal magic to the world and attacked this very building we stand in. An alternative Dimension’s Mevolent broke through into this Dimension and almost brought back the Dark Gods. Then, Damocles Creed, who was allowed to be the Supreme Mage of Roarhaven, tried bringing back the Dark Gods. Finally, the Unnamed of all people reappeared after centuries of activity, believed to be dead, and tried burning it to the ground. He killed countless individuals, surpassing Darquesse and including Skulduggery Pleasant, Valkyrie Cain and the remaining Dead Men,” Alfeim leaned forward in his seat, staring intently at Vesuvius. “It is by mere luck that the Unnamed and Mevolent ended their battle by simultaneously killing each other. Now we hear of a new threat attempting to do the same thing. Roarhaven has become the security risk that we all feared. I have no wish to fear-monger or stir trouble here. This is our reality, and something needs to be done.”
“Alfeim is right,” Krytron said, sounding as if he’d have rather said anything else but agree with his fellow Grand Mage. “Roarhaven City has become unstable and,” he bowed his head to Vesuvius, Veritas and Maltese, “with no disrespect to the residing Irish Council, I fear that the task has become a burden. As the leaders of the magical community, it is our responsibility that each and every Sanctuary does not collapse under pressure. We must help each other.”
“Your words sound kind,” Maltese said. “But they carry a similar sentiment that Bernard Sult, Quintin Strom and Illori Reticent all carried. They promised support, help, and a stabilising hand. That was not the case.”
Alfeim bristled. “Do not equate us to them. It was the understanding of the various Sanctuaries that the Supreme Council had been gathered to help. I am not a puppeteer and my beliefs did not align with their own. Many of us around the table still believe that the Supreme Council could be a hand of peace rather than a force of hostility.”
“The Supreme Council was disbanded.” Vesuvius pointed out.
“No, they weren’t,” Alfeim retorted. “They were murdered. Assassinated, under the orders of Erskine Ravel, the Irish Grand Mage at the time, after he killed his closest friends. Then, they were replaced by sympathizers of the Irish Sanctuary.”
“They were not Irish sympathisers,” Vesuvius said, anger biting into his tone. “Erskine Ravel was a terrorist who wanted the subjugation of mortals in the hopes of placing sorcerers in power. He had no help from the Irish Sanctuary, nor its populace.”
“You say this, but we are currently in a City built by an army of Irish individuals who believed in his vision,” Alfeim said with a smile, placing his palms on the table. “A city filled with many who desired his preferred outcome. Regardless of whether you, or your colleagues, had any part to play, what is true is that Erskine Ravel, an Irish Grand Mage, manipulated us into a war, committed an overtly hostile act upon numerous Grand Mages from various Sanctuaries, replaced them with his supporters and attempted to take control. Then, his successor, China Sorrows, replaced his supporters with her own, and threatened and blackmailed those that did not accept her tyranny. The Irish Council appears to be garnering a penchant for this kind of behaviour and it has driven a barrier between Ireland and the rest of the world.”
His words had the intended effect. Vesuvius’s eyes glittered with anger, and Veritas looked at the Italian Grand Mage, his jaw clenched. “You cannot speak as if other Sanctuaries have not used the past few years to their advantage, Alfeim Dawn,” he emphasised the Grand Mages name, drawing a sharp glare from him. “And you say that you were manipulated. I’d say you were given the excuse.”
“Gentlemen,” Willow said, an edge of warning in her tone. “We’re here to discuss our future and work together,” she leaned forward. “I am Willow Ardency, the representative High Mage of Istoria, one of the three great Mystical Cities. I realise I am new here, but having lived in Istoria all my life, I cannot express enough the importance of peace. Too many times throughout history, the Sanctuaries - or their sorcerers - have fought, and it has always led to ruin. It was a conflict between the German and the French sorcerers that created the Cazadores de Demonios. For a time, magic was truly discovered by a small group who proceeded to track down and murder any they believed to be wielding magic. It was the conflict between the Asian Emperors and the European Kings of the magical communities after the fall of the Unnamed that gave Mevolent time to rise up and gain the power he needed to challenge us. The War of the Sanctuaries allowed Erskine Ravel his chance at exposing magic to the world, and he very nearly succeeded.”
Krytron nodded. “Ms Ardency is correct. Vesuvius, please understand that we have no hostility towards you. From what we’ve heard, you’ve been an excellent Grand Mage, with a supportive Council to aid you. We do not believe that you are capable of these acts, but we are all concerned that you may be feeling a bit… stressed with everything happening with the Disciples, your rogue City Guard and the criminal element within the City. We want to help.”
“Krytron makes a good point, Vesuvius,” Daemon murmured, tilting his head towards the Irish Grand Mage. “We will all suffer if a Cradle of Magic falls. Especially if magic is revealed in the process.”
“It almost was,” Alfeim pointed out. “We all felt it, didn’t we? That rush of magic that went through us. The boost of power?”
Zani considered what Alfeim said. After the Battle of the Circle, scientists and the City Guard had analysed the Dark Cathedral, where the Disciples had made their final stand. There, they recovered the body of Valkyrie Cain, impaled by the thought-to-be-lost God-Killer Sword in order to combine the lingering magic of Gog Magog with Valkyrie’s inherited blood and energy from her ancestors, the Faceless Ones. The ancient magical energies combined, creating and feeding the portal that had opened beside her. It had been believed to have been a portal for the Faceless Ones to come through. Instead, it had merely been a tool to channel the magical energies into the Rifts surrounding their Dimension. The rush of magic had been so potent that it had shattered the High Sanctuary’s shield, only adding to the magical chaos.
“We’ve definitely seen its effects, haven't we?” Zani snapped back into focus as Alfeim continued to speak. “Statues once thought to have been carved from mortal hands have shed their stone skins and begun walking around after centuries. Elementals out of time and unknowing of our new customs and practices. People who weren’t aware of their abilities suddenly flying, throwing fire, turning invisible, breaking their friends bones at the slightest touch. Children with access to every magical discipline known and unknown who previously only had a small dose of each now have their magic amplified. Children,” Alfeim slapped his hand on the desk for emphasis. “This was done under Vesuvius’ watch. On Irish soil. Clearly, the Irish Sanctuary can’t be trusted to run itself. Maybe it requires an overseer.”
Daemon Steel tapped a finger on the desk. Zani watched him. As the American Grand Mage, he held a lot of power. A lot of influence. “I can’t say that I am a student of the arts. Certainly not history. But sorcerers have never been terribly fond of oversight. Re-establishing the Supreme Council appears to be a poor move. It would destroy any goodwill we’ve established over the past few years, and it only takes a few bad actors to drag it to its knees. The Sanctuaries remaining independent was done for a reason. To reduce the number of sorcerers in a single area and reduce the chance of us being spotted. Doing this would achieve the opposite. Surely there’s an easier path?”
“I agree,” Vesuvius said. “Oversight and bureaucracy leads to corruption, agendas and rivalry. We do not need to be governed, overseen or babied. We have dealt with every situation that has come our way, and we will continue to do so.”
Krytron held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Nothing has been decided yet, Vesuvius, but you must see our point. The Irish Sanctuary has been at the epicenter of almost every catastrophe in the last three decades. None of us are doubting your strength, your commitment or your ability to run the Sanctuary or to protect your subjects from mortals. But even the strongest pillar can weaken and crumble under pressure. We have to think about the implications beyond Ireland. What sort of ramifications that other Sanctuaries will suffer if you fail.”
“You speak of history,” Maltese spoke up. “But you seem to be content with ignoring ours. You have mentioned every battle and impossibility we’ve faced, but neglected to speak of our victories. Our Sanctuary has been tested and it succeeded. Over and over again,” he gestured to Alfeim. “I am in control of relations across other Sanctuaries. Economic and otherwise.”
“You must be good with PR, then.” Alfeim smirked. Maltese ignored the challenge.
“Many Sanctuaries have admitted to experiencing problems of their own. Wayward sorcerers and accidental reveals of magic to the public. Not only are we far from being the only ones that have suffered tribulations, but we’ve also overcome them.”
“You say this, but I’ve heard differently from your mages,” Alfeim pointed out. He turned to Daemon. “And yours. As well as others,” Alfeim’s voice took on a mocking tone. “There is unrest among the populaces. They haven’t forgotten the War of the Sanctuaries, or what occurred afterwards.”
Vesuvius shook his head. “You keep referring to the Supreme Council and the War of the Sanctuaries, but I believe I’ve made it clear that I do not need to be governed. I don’t need to be looked after. We have this handled and we have this settled. The Disciples are losing ground and their threat is diminished. Mr. Bones is on the run and his accomplices have been dealt with.”
“Dealt with?” Alfeim echoed, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Is that what you’d call it? How about I let people who are more knowledgeable than I talk about how well you ‘dealt’ with them.”
The Grand Mages in the room all turned as Fletcher and Skafflock walked into the room, ushered in by Fenix. Zani’s fist curled and she felt a snarl in her throat. Tuck reached over and grabbed her hand, his eyes burning with anger.
Daemon sighed. “Is this necessary, Alfeim? We all have political struggles back at home. This is stretching our jurisdiction, even if we did have a Supreme Council.”
“We were told that we were required to be here,” Fletcher said. His eyes swept the room and Zani watched as his mouth tightened as they landed on Vesuvius.
“We’d like for you both to tell us about the Disciples,” Alfeim’s eyes flickered to Skafflock. “Starting with you.”
Fenix started forward, but Vesuvius raised a hand, stopping him. Skafflock nodded. “I’m Skafflock and I worked for Mr. Bones.”
“Worked?” Alfeim said incredulously. “From what we’ve been told, you kidnapped a young teleporter, who would later be possessed by a remnant in the hopes that he opened up a portal for the Faceless Ones to come through, you were part of the attack on the Irish Sanctuary and you murdered a Grand Mage. Yet, you remain free, in the constant presence of Vesuvius,” the Italian Grand Mage turned to Blotch. “Your duty is to ensure the protection of your colleagues and subordinates. In order to fulfill your obligations as Head of this Sanctuary, you must seek necessary justice.”
“Vesuvius, I realise this is all personal,” Daemon said sympathetically, “but we’ve received reports that you, Ms. Skafflock, Mr. Flak and Mr. DipDap and Mr. Bones were all close in your childhood. Do you believe this has clouded your judgement?”
Vesuvius stiffened. “I believe not. And to clarify, Mr. Bones was never a friend of ours.”
“But BipBap was,” Krytron rumbled. “A man that fought for Mevolent. Developed technology for him. Your political opponent for many years. Do not think we missed the rioting and chanting outside. What they were saying. BipBap’s death has made him a martyr. He stoked the flames of discontent and if you are not careful, you will burn.”
“His death may not just be unfortunate, but the conclusion of a conspiracy engineered by Vesuvius Blotch to rid himself of any opponents,” Alfeim said, motioning at Vesuvius. “Not only this, but Horizon, the Necromancer’s High Priest, has left Roarhaven and Ash, an incredibly influential man within Roarhaven, was killed by the Arch-Canon. Over the course of two weeks, the individuals capable of keeping the Supreme Mage,” his lip curled as he used the exclusive title of the Irish Head of Council, “were killed or driven away. Is this not suspicious?”
“You believe I’m capable of doing such a thing,” Vesuvius growled, barely containing his rage. “I have done nothing to -”
“We don’t believe that you’d do something like that,” Krytron said, shooting Alfeim a glare. “But we can’t help but noticed that Ms. Skafflock is free, numerous individuals are dead and the main culprit is still loose. This doesn’t look good for the other Sanctuaries.”
Fletcher shook his head in disgust. “I was brought here under the belief that something was getting done. But another Supreme Council? It’s just another step backwards. My son needs me and I’m not spending another second in this woman’s presence.” With that, he teleported away, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
“If I may,” Willow tapped on the table for attention. “From what I’ve heard about BipBap DipDap, he was a cunning individual capable of causing a lot of harm. I do remember him from the War, and it would appear he did not change. But you all neglect to name his other, and I dare say his primary characteristic. His intellect. Have you not considered the possibility that he was engineering things? Keeping his involvement hidden and at a minimum to fool the masses? By targeting the Vampires in the Fangs and the Necromancers in their Temple, BipBap drove two hated groups out of Roarhaven. In one fell swoop, he deprived Vesuvius of powerful allies and garnered favour in those that never wanted those groups in Roarhaven to begin with. See how easy it was for me to spin the story the other way with so little information? Yet, you wish to spin it another. You are taking the narrative for your own purposes and connecting dots that shouldn’t be connected.”
Alfeim bristled. “Do not presume to tell us what we are doing right and wrong, Ms. Ardency. You have lived in Istoria for a very long time. Of course, I will forgive you for not understanding our way of doing things, but with the Sanctuaries, when one fails, we all fall with it.”
Willow pursed her lips. “I’ll ignore your arrogance. You claim his death was Vesuvius’ fault, but the reports made it quite clear that it was his administrator, Mr. Flak, that dealt the mortal blow.”
Fenix rose from his chair. “It’s true. We were once friends. And it’s also true that I killed him. Vesuvius did not engineer anything, nor did he wish for his death. It was a necessary evil in the midst of combat as we fought the Disciples and prevented them from bringing back their Gods. We were successful and we forced them to run. We are capable of doing this ourselves.”
“Interesting,” Aberration said softly. “So you were the one who saved the day? Perhaps it is not the city but certain people that require a closer examination. In this case, perhaps this task is more suited for Vesuvius than a council. That way, the Supreme Mage can snuff out any,” he tilted his head to the side, “remnants of corruption and problematic situations without worrying about international law.”
Fenix stiffened in his chair and Zani narrowed her eyes. She looked at the man, his green eyes staring up at a shocked Fenix. There was silence around the table, until Alfeim made a noise of annoyance. “So what you’re saying is, we should let Vesuvius run his own internal investigation and come back to us later?”
“What he’s saying,” Daemon leant forward, breaking the levity, “is that it is not possible for us to blame Vesuvius for everything that has happened. Almost all the grievances you’ve raised at the table today occurred under the rule of other people. Erskine Ravel almost exposed magic to the mortals. China Sorrows was the tyrant. The Supreme Mage - and I agree that the title may be a tad on the nose - you’re going after has done none of these things, and in fact, has given autonomy back to the various Sanctuaries that Ms. Sorrows had under her thumb. In the past three years he has ruled, Vesuvius has done quite well. We have had no reason to be alarmed. It would be ludicrous of us to believe that one single event should be allowed to dictate a Grand Mage’s rule, particularly if that event was started by someone antagonistic to Vesuvius.”
There was silence now, and Zani noticed that the American Grand Mage had had an effect on the Grand Mages, many now looking at the Supreme Mage with a new understanding on their faces.
“Well,” Krytron said, “I didn’t realise the Americans and the Irish had such a good rapport. For now, this meeting will be adjourned. Yes, Grand Mage Alfeim,” Krytron said, cutting off the other man’s protests, “there will be no more talk of this until our next meeting. This meeting has gone on long enough.”
Zani stood up, watching the other Grand Mages shaking hands and leaving through the doorway with their security forces. Zani rubbed her eyes. So many weeks of planning so that these men and women could meet, all for this to end with no solutions being made. Just as he’d told her it would end.
“Zani, Tuck, a word,” Vesuvius said, beckoning the Prime Detectives over. “I know you have a lot on your plate. But -.”
“Aberration De Rais,” Tuck said. “You think he knows about Fenix? Sensed his Soul?”
“I can’t be sure, but what he said didn’t amuse me one bit,” Vesuvius muttered. “If he does know, that will cause trouble.”
“Can we just kill him?” Fenix asked, his eyes flinty and hardened.
“And risk the Americans' wrath when they appear to be on our side?” Vesuvius said. “No, we have to deal with this diplomatically.”
“Could we persuade him to keep it to himself?” Skafflock asked. “Or convince him that Fenix was just affected by the Boosting Event?”
Zani shook her head, her mind racing. “None of those will work, but there’s no reason to be alarmed. He has no evidence, and with such a giant claim, he’d need a lot of it to make it a convincing one. In a way, the political tensions amongst the Sanctuaries may work in your favour. People may just see it as an odd way of trying to turn people against you,” she looked out the window next to them, where she could see the protesters getting more violent and physical. “Well, more than they already are.”
“Thank you, Ms. Elandra. No need to extend your observations,” Vesuvius replied curtly, then sighed. “Excellent. Just another problem to deal with. But that’s for the near future. I’ll receive Rylent’s report and we’ll discuss our next steps regarding the Guardians of Supremacy. But even that pales in comparison to what this meeting revealed. I was drawing information out from the other Grand Mages during the meeting and…” Vesuvius hesitated. “It’s not good. Alfeim is seeking the resurrection of the Supreme Council in light of recent events. Krytron is contemplating whether it will serve the interests of other Sanctuaries.”
“What about Daemon Steel?” Maltese enquired and Vesuvius shook his head.
“I couldn’t get any sort of information from Daemon. His posture was open but conflicted. His words are supportive but without any incentive or benefit for him. I don’t know where he truly lies.”
“It’s possible he truly is on your side” Zani suggested. “Sir, if I may, the crowds are growing restless. May I…”
“Yes, yes,” Vesuvius said. “Go.”
Zani nodded her goodbyes and left, walking back outside to the roaring crowds, screaming and chanting their fury, wanting to be heard, teeth bared and gnashing. She saw her colleagues; Mercury, Clay, Roland and Whetstone all part of the line of City Guards and Cleavers keeping the protesters at bay. She watched as they were spat at, punched and screamed at. Her colleagues, who had worked so hard to keep the community safe. She watched as a man raised his hand and conjured a fireball. A woman’s hands started shimmering and another’s eyes started to glow. Her heart broke for the city she’d fallen in love with. A city that had given her a new start. A fresh purpose. Managing to evade the angry crowd through a side-door, Zani slipped further and deeper into the city, she cleared her mind, eradicating emotion and belief. An empty vessel. Just as he’d taught her. Reaching a warehouse, she stepped into the gloom and waited for her eyes to adjust. Standing in the middle of the warehouse, surrounded by training dummies, a boxing ring and various obstacle courses was a large man with his arms crossed.
“Zani,” Brichard said, his voice like thunder. “Are you ready?”
Zani looked at Brichard. Her instructor. Her mentor. “I am.”

Ok, so I said I would return with the rest of Nathan's story and here I am. My higher-ups already know of my misdeeds when I uploaded part 1 so I don't think I'll be around much longer. Anyway, I spoke to Nathan some more and he was fully willing to finish his story. After hearing it myself and transcribing it, I fully understand why he's in a tube and why I'm monitoring him. After you read this, you will understand why as well. Let's get into it!
Barely standing and gasping for air, Nathan takes a moment to stop running and realizes he has no idea where he is going. He begins looking around to see if there’s anywhere to hide or even, hopefully, find food or at least water. After a moment, he finally spots a few buildings in the nearby distance.
With high hopes, Nathan sprints past the remaining trees ahead and makes it to the buildings. Only one specific building catches his eye. A large sign that reads GROCERY stares at Nathan from the top of the building. Without hesitation, he rushes inside and much to his amazement, there are aisles!
Nathan quickly but quietly scans each aisle. Sadly, he sees nothing. Not until he sees a small pile of snacks lying next to a fallen end cap at the end of an aisle. Excitement dances through Nathan’s body as he runs to the food and begins eating it like a wild animal. He devours every ounce of food he finds until he suddenly hears an unnerving sound.
Listening closely as possible, Nathan hears the sound of cracking bones and ripping flesh. Afraid, yet curious, he looks around the corner of the aisle and spots the legs of a woman lying in her own blood and entrails. Upon further inspection, Nathan sees what he believes to be the creature he and Charlie had seen before. It’s a large thin four-legged animal that most likely was a wolf at one point but is now just a beast. It’s feasting on the entrails of the woman’s corpse and refusing to take its taste buds away from its food. That is until it hears Nathan, who accidentally steps on a bag of chips. It swiftly averts its attention to Nathan and the sight of its face is terrifying. Its face is half torn and its eyes show exactly how bloodthirsty it is. With blood and entrails dangling from its teeth, the beast fully turns its body to Nathan and lets out a deep and disturbing growl.
Believing this to be his final moments alive, Nathan backs up and stumbles into the wall with his eyes closed and fists clenched. He is ready for the reaper to take his soul. The beast closes in on him and readies itself to charge its prey but is suddenly distracted by the voice of unwanted company. “Heel, you stupid mutt!” It’s once again Subject Zero, who is this time covered in large amounts of blood. The beast diverts its attention to Subject Zero and prepares for a fight.
Unsure as to why Subject Zero didn’t just let the beast kill him, Nathan, stands and stares in terrified confusion. As Nathan watches, Subject Zero is attacked by the beast after a failed attempt at taming it. Directly after its attack, the beast is grabbed and bashed against a wall then thrown to the floor. The animal, no longer looking like a beast compared to Subject Zero, stands again and viciously sinks its teeth into Subject Zero’s arm but its life is soon ended. With a large and swift pull on the animal’s rear legs with its teeth still bore into Subject Zero’s arm, its body rips apart and its entrails fall out onto the floor. “I knew you were a waste,” Subject Zero says with disappointment in his voice.
Nathan quickly snaps back to reality and runs out the nearby emergency exit. No longer caring about hunger or thirst, he just keeps running and doesn’t stop even when he stumbles from exhaustion. Inevitably, any hope he once had, is lost when in the not so far distance he hears, “Just because the mutt didn’t kill you, that doesn’t mean that I won’t!”
Still running further into the woods, Nathan begins to stumble. He finally stops and falls to his knees as he begins to believe he is going to die here. He falls onto his back and lies in the grass around him while releasing a long but relaxing sigh. Nathan can feel the cold hard ground beneath him as he looks up to the sky.
Filled with raging guilt and regrets, Nathan stares up to the sky in silence. It gets so silent, he can hear everything around him. He hears the wind sing through the leaves of trees. He can even hear water flowing nearby. Water! Unsure of where, he looks up quickly and listens. Finally, he spots a creek nearby and climbs to his hands and knees.
Unable to fully stand, Nathan crawls his way to the creek ignoring all of his surroundings. He reaches the creek and practically bathes himself in the near freezing water in an attempt to feel refreshed. Afterwards, he begins to guzzle the water in handfuls.
After many handfuls of water, Nathan notices something odd. The water tastes metallic as if you were sucking on an old copper penny or silver spoon. Upon this realization, he also notices the color of the water seems off. Unsure of why, he looks around only to find something far more disturbing than he imagined. An amalgamation of mutilated corpses sit nearby rotting on the rocks of the creek shore.
Realizing he had just drank water contaminated with rotting corpses of innocent people, Nathan starts getting a sick feeling in his stomach and attempts to look away but can’t get his eyes off the sight. Finally breaking, he begins gagging vigorously. He loses control and starts puking uncontrollably before ultimately collapsing from pain and disgust.
Nathan finally gets up after lying on the ground for a moment. Hoping to find at least some form of shelter, he manages to get himself up to his aching feet and stumbles his way down the creek. Eventually, he reaches the end of the creek where a large pipe is sticking out from the ground at an angle. The pipe, being large enough to fit a man, seems like a perfect place to shelter in. Before fully deciding to sleep there, Nathan looks inside hoping that it may lead to an exit from the dome but is quickly disappointed when he sees only dirt and mud. Nathan no longer cares and decides to climb into the pipe. He manages to make it an adequate resting area. Soon after, he is unable to keep his eyes open and finally falls asleep.
“Nathan, wake up. You’re going on live television.” A very familiar voice whispers to Nathan. He opens his eyes expecting to see different surroundings, but instead, he sees Charlie sitting next to him in an unfamiliar building. Obviously confused, Nathan hesitates to even move but decides to go with it. He’s led out to a room with a male interviewer, revealing that he is on a live television interview.
The interviewer looks to the camera and says, “Welcome to TalkTime, I’m your host, Tim Wiesly, and today, we have Nathan White. Just in case you don’t know, Nathan is a brilliant reporter and reports anything in the most brilliant ways. One specific story he covered about his near-death experience is what we would like to talk about today. So, Nathan, could you tell the viewers more about your experience?”
Nathan hesitates at first but oddly starts believing that he made it out of the hell he was in and just dissociated. He starts telling the interviewer everything that happened to him.
“Well, Tim, for starters, my colleague and I had found evidence that Envirodome was a test facility. Little did we know, one test they ran there was still in the facility after decades. We then found all the missing people over the years but they were unfortunate and passed away at the hands of the facilities test subject. I eventually lost my colleague and had a run in with a rabid animal as well but I got away and managed to find a place to sleep. After that, I climbed out and decided to… to…”
Nathan stops in his tracks as he realizes he can’t remember what happened after the tunnel.
“Wait. Wait, this can’t be real. I vividly remember Charlie going insane. And all those other people started losing their minds and they all started killing each other. I remember all that, yet I can’t remember a damn thing after falling asleep in that tunnel! What the fuck is going on?”
Charlie comes running out and attempts to calm Nathan but fails as Nathan screams back.
“You’re dead! You’re fucking dead! I know you are! You aren’t real. None of you, none of this! None of it is real!”
Soon after realizing everything is fake, all of Nathan’s surroundings start changing. Everything around him becomes morbidly dark and people become mutated corpses, all of which walk over to him. They all start screaming at Nathan, resulting in him breaking and he loses his mind to the brink of insanity. Out of the dark shadows, Subject Zero walks into the area as if he were a dark god who created him and was ready to destroy him. Suddenly, everyone surrounding Nathan abruptly stops screaming and looks at him. Then they all in perfect sync say, “You’re losing control, Nathan.”
Nathan angrily stands tall and yells, “Leave me alone!” After this fierce scream with his eyes shut, Nathan suddenly hears nothing but the sound of running water. He opens his eyes only to find he was still in the town under the dome. Only, now, it is somehow nighttime. Suddenly, he’s startled by the sound of splashing water. Nathan quietly looks up from the inside of the tunnel he’s lying in. In a decent distance away, Nathan sees two mannequins throwing multiple bodies into the already corpse-filled creek. Although, one body stands out amongst the rest. Charlie's. His body is mangled and mutilated. Nathan feels sick and guilty as he stares at his dead friend.
Soon, Subject Zero’s voice is heard, resulting in Nathan realizing he needs to sneak out of the area. He quickly climbs out of the tunnel and looks around. He decides his best option is to go in one direction until he hopefully reaches an edge of the dome. He believes it may help him reach the overseer’s office where the self-destruct button is.
With his new plan, Nathan quietly sneaks away until he accidentally rams into the edge of the dome. He becomes angry at first for being dumb enough to run into it, but eventually realizes he could be on his way to salvation.
Nathan, still tired, stumbles around the edge of the dome and looks strange considering the walls are simulated to look like more land. Even though Nathan can barely handle all the stress, he still forces himself to keep moving with high hopes to avenge his deceased friend. He keeps going until he stumbles over a small brush pile. He falls onto his face and notices blood pouring from his nose.
Assuming his nose has broken from the fall, Nathan quickly checks it but oddly there is no pain and the bleeding has already stopped. He’s confused but doesn’t care as he’s determined to escape. He gets up and eventually reaches an odd looking spot of the dome wall. With a closer look, he realizes it’s a door. Full of hope, Nathan quickly opens it and discovers a staircase leading to the overseer’s office.
Nathan runs up without hesitation. He reaches the top of the stairs and makes it to the controls. Being dark, Nathan feels around for a light switch but as he thinks it, the lights come on. Now with light, he sees papers lying everywhere, all with information of the dome. Apparently, the government had the technology to make all this without ever letting the public know. It was built with a self-destruct button as safety measures if anything within the dome went horribly wrong. Although Nathan thought it would be an explosion as most self-destruct buttons cause, the dome was made to disassemble itself as it counted down, allowing the slight possibility of reaching the only entrance and exit doors of the facility.
Nathan realizes he may actually have a chance to escape this hell and avenge his friend. After a small pause, he gets back to searching for the self-destruct button. He stumbles across a glass casing labeled ‘FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY’. Nathan opens the casing and prepares to press the button but is quickly distracted as a voice breaks the silence.
“This place hasn’t been real after all these damned years?” Subject Zero reacts angrily as he slowly walks toward Nathan. “I knew this place seemed a bit small, but now that I know I can get out of here, I’ll bring my tests to the whole damn world!”
“Why would you even want that?! Every single test you have done with that fucking serum has been a failure!”
“No… No, I’ve perfected my serum.”
“What the FUCK do you mean?”
Without a single other word, Subject Zero rushes toward Nathan. Nathan quickly reacts and raises his arms in defense. Suddenly, Subject Zero flies backwards as if he was shoved with incredible force. They both now know Nathan was the cause.
“That. That is what I mean.” Subject Zero says with a grin on his face.
“No, no, what the fuck. How?!”
“You really think I didn’t take the opportunity to inject a new version of the serum into you.”
“But- but there wasn’t an injection hole. Everyone else had one.”
“That’s the great thing about it. I perfected it so much that your healing is far greater than even mine AND you didn’t lose your mind like I did. That’s all I ever wanted…”
“Screw you…” Nathan clenches his fist and swings a punch at Subject Zero. Realizing things move just from his thought now, Nathan opens his hand and telekinetically throws things at Subject Zero. The two begin to have an all-out super powered brawl as Subject Zero explains to Nathan that the serum is why every pain he’s felt while in the dome went away nearly immediately. The telekinesis just happened to come into play later on. Then suddenly, Nathan is slammed through and out the overseer’s office windows. Subject Zero jumps down onto him.
Nathan gets weaker with each hit he takes but still fights on. Before he gets up, he notices that where the broken window is, the walls show their true colors of concrete gray and glass. Aside from the window, Nathan notices the door to the office is still wide open. He quickly gives Subject Zero a powerful kick to his abdomen and jumps up to run.
Nathan runs quickly up the stairs and to the self-destruct button after leaving his enemy on the ground outside. As he reaches the button, Nathan looks out the broken window at Subject Zero and prepares to press the button.
Nathan slams his hand onto the button as Subject Zero yells out in hatred. Nathan, expecting something to happen, waits. Subject Zero laughs hysterically but then suddenly is cut off by a loud voice projecting across the whole dome. “COMMENCING SELF-DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE.”
Nathan notices Subject Zero is distracted and uses this as his chance to escape. 10, 9, 8…… The countdown begins and the sun begins to rise as Nathan runs out of the office and past the unaware Subject Zero. 7, 6, 5…… The countdown continues and the facility begins to collapse as Nathan passes through the woods where he drank from the creek and soon passes the concrete room where the other people were held captive. 4, 3, 2…… The countdown gets closer to an end as the dome collapses quicker and Nathan rushes past the old house he was stuck in before. Soon enough, he gets onto the road that led him and Charlie to the town inside the dome and gets even closer to the door but suddenly Subject Zero is following behind. This time, he’s so angry and determined, Subject Zero uses his telekinetic powers to control the mangled corpses that he’s kept. He’s headed for either the door or Nathan, but Nathan doesn’t care.
1…… The countdown comes to an end and the entire dome collapses above. Subject Zero, far behind with his army of corpses, stops and accepts what is coming but Nathan keeps running in hopes to escape before the weight of a million tons comes crashing down onto him. Soon enough, the dome becomes nothing but rubble.
The entire area where the dome once stood, is now a ginormous pile of rubble and all that stands are a few trees and small bits of buildings. Nothing could have lived from inside. Unless you were close to the doors.
Nathan, barely standing or even really alive, stumbles around the rubble. With his new powers, he uses his telekinesis to move a large piece of steel revealing a small group of men nearby. Within this group are a couple of men who are clearly scientists of some sort but the others are clearly military. Nathan runs to them with hopes of help but suddenly…
“Stop right there!” One of the men yells out angrily but with a quiver in his voice. “Put your heads above your head and don’t speak!”
“Wait! I just need help!”
“I said put your hands above your head!”
Nathan is confused so he looks around in the hopes that maybe Subject Zero is who he spotted. Sadly, the guns are all being aimed straight for him.
This is the end of Nathan’s story. But it isn’t the end of mine. After hearing Nathan's story, I have an understanding of why he’s in the tube here. I can firmly admit that I’m terrified. I had no idea this is why I was sent here. I was led to believe he was just a possible danger and I needed to monitor him and continue brain scans. Little did I know, this is why.
I know it seems a bit strange and even unbelievable but I have no real reason to not believe a man trapped inside a tube. But now that he has spoken to me, he’s asked me to help him. However, I have no idea how. Aside from letting him out, there’s nothing else I can do. The higher-ups here are strict and have specifically told anyone working here not to listen to Nathan. On top of that, they're already suspicious of me. I suppose, getting his story out is one way to help him but he also wants out of here.
I don’t know what to do, but I do understand I’ve already gone too far by even listening to him. Hell, he may even be as dangerous now as Subject Zero from the story he told me. If he is, I could release a madman into the world. If he isn't, I'm letting an innocent man suffer alone in a science facility. Screw it. I’ve come to terms with what must happen. I’ll release him the moment I can, if I even can. Once this story is shown to the public, I may end up terminated. Not from my job, but from my life. If this happens then I’m sorry to Nathan. If Nathan turns out to be a danger as well, then I’m sorry to all of you. For now and possibly forever, goodbye.
PART 1:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1d7hsgf/im_a_scientist_and_a_man_in_a_tube_is_telling_me/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

My love,
My whole life I dreamed of this all consuming love. I wanted a person who I could love fearlessly and ferociously. Forever them and me against the world. Besties. Growing old but staying silly.
My home life was not great. My parents fought non stop when home but were almost never home. They were bar owners working 24/7. I took care of my baby brother. Fend for myself and vowed never to be with a man who would be so cruel and selfish as my cheating dad.
I met my person, or so I thought. 13 years of bliss. He was my person. His family and friends became mine and I felt so loved. I felt like being home. Like finally I had arrived. I was so happy. I felt that my hard work to study, work, become a good person and partner finally paid off.
I believed he would never leave me because what we had was pure and real and I would have died to protect this man. He was my world. He told me I was the love of his life. Perfect in every way. I woke up to him staring lovingly at me. My life was a fairy tale.
Sadly history repeats itself. Fairytales need a villain. Even if I tried so hard to find a better man than my dad… this man turned out te be a cheater too. A lie, a performance. He left me and told me he left because I was not enough. He deserved better than me and found it. A fear that was always dormant in me. Somewhere I believed I deserved this treatment even though I gave 110%, I was just born lacking. Undeserving of this love. I simply was not enough!
I can’t explain how broken I was. The only thing keeping me together was my dog and kind colleagues. I lost most of the friends, our family turned out to be very much his family. It was to be expected but that didn’t make it less painful. I was a ghost. People missed me, cried over me but I could only love them from another lonely realm. I died but my body kept haunting this earth.
I started to fight for me. Took care of this body that was left standing. Loved my dog and let him take me places and show me the enjoyment of little things. I pushed myself in my career. Volunteered, pushed myself on my hobby. Made new friends. I held on for dear life to become something new. Something better. The best version of me. A person who turned out to be pretty amazing.
My life went from mondaine to exciting. I made younger friends. Parties, girls nights, wild karaoke benders. Learning to ski and travel to new places. Never a dull moment. Chaos, but it was fun.
I dated but I was cynical. I used men to tell me what I wanted to hear but none of them mattered. Real love is fake. I was no longer delusional. I had a relationship with a man who worshipped the ground I walked on… he would never leave me but he made me miserable. I left him. It was all just smoke and mirrors anyway.
I decided it was just going to be me. Me and my goodest boy! At least I knew my love was real. I could actually love selflessly and authentically. So whatever I would love me! Men… wel they could be fun company for a date or two. Maybe even some physical company if they were well behaved enough. Dating became a pass time. Just an activity. One I was ready to give up on anyway.
And then there was you. We matched on Tinder and you were the last match I would have. I was done dating. Wasn’t planning on taking you on a date. However you stood out from the first chat. You were so convinced I was something special. Like a drink of cold water in a desert. Just from my pictures and my bio. Later you told me you saw this kindness and wisdom in my eyes and thought I was funny in my bio. You drove 2 hours and crossed a border just to take me out for a cocktail. The effort was so new to me.
I saw you and my breath just got knocked out of me. You were gorgeous for sure, but that was not it. You had these very kind authentic eyes. Such a sweet voice. You were funny and engaging. You thought I was funny and interesting. The night flew by and I walked to my car with this weird feeling. I pushed it down. Told my self to be smart.
We went to dinner a week later. We talked like we knew each other for years. Server looked at us like she thought we were on our anniversary while we hadn’t even kissed yet. You had rose pedals on the table and ordered champagne. It was so cute. In the parking lot you gave me a sweet little shy kiss that meant everything.I later learned you never kissed a girl before, you always were kissed. In hindsight that makes it so much sweeter how you were brave for me.
You wanted to see me the next day. Drove hours again to go for a walk and meet my dog. In the bar where we had a coffee you kissed me. So effortlessly, like we always had been together. So lovingly. You stood up to go to the washroom. Kissed me and said: I’ll be right back. Like old married couples. When we said goodbye on a cold icy parking lot, we made out. Sparks flew for me. And I must admit I was walking on sunshine a little.
And then the next day… my dog had a seizure and died. He had these before but never like this. He seamed so well for his age but turned out he had advanced cancer. Suddenly I lost my best friend. My home. My rock. And I was so scared. Facing life without him. What if you turned out to be a lie? What if you let me down like everybody else ? He wasn’t here to save me. And I missed him, I still mis him.
You were there for me. In my grief I let go of my guards and just fell for you hard. Harder than ever, like falling into a black hole only accelerating and not knowing when I will hit the end… or be crushed under the enormous weight of my feelings. Finding myself in way deeper than I wanted. Freaking myself out.
We turned out to have crazy sexual chemistry. You are the best I ever had. And I was the same for you. Teamwork you called it. A new world of pleasure feeding into my obsession with you. We had similar quirks and everything we learned about each other made us more compatible.
You told me you wanted everything with me on our 5th date. You said you knew it was all way too soon but that you knew it was me! You were crazy about me. That you never felt anything like this. All common sense left me. I just surrendered. In that moment I just loved you I stopped pretending that I didn’t.
I met your family and friends and they welcomed me like I was something unseen. Like I was this “ finally” breath of relieve. They told me they were so happy to see you happy. I got hugs and teary eyes telling me he deserved someone as great as me. Never felt so accepted by so many strangers so fast. It was just their love for you spilling over to me as they saw I just loved you for you.
I learned you too were always looking to be loved. And just like me you attracted people who used you. Made you work for love. They cheated on you, abused you and told you that you were not enough. They dimmed your light and you believed you deserved it. Like you were not enough, A fear stuck so deep inside you it will never fully leave you.
I see you. You are sunshine in human form and I can’t understand anyone not keeping you, treasuring you. You are beautiful from the inside out. You are so loved by so many. My hearth explodes when you look at me. I can’t help myself.
You know all this. I have told you before I love you. I want you and I want you forever. You know I am all in. You know to some extend how this frightens me. You told me you are scared too.
But I can’t tell you just how scared I am without sounding like a lunatic. I can’t tell you the depths of my feelings without sounding like a stalker.
When we are apart, I think about you every waking second. I stare at our pictures. I flutter at your name on my phone. Hope you will call me before bedtime. When we are together I can’t get enough of you. I stare at you. I can’t sleep because I want to hold you, feel your body against mine as long as I can, admire you while you sleep. I want to savor you. Every moment with you I want to be in it and experience it as hard as I can…
Because deep down… I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. To figure out you are not real. Or for you to see I am not enough. For you to change your mind. For a better woman than me seeing what you are and taking you from me. I am waiting for the rude awakening that I have been lying to myself and love is in fact as fake as I feared and only my love for you is real.
It gives me panic attacks some you have witnessed and even talked me through. Not knowing it was the fear of losing you that spurred them on. You keep showing up. You keep working for me even when I show you wounded and hurt parts of me. You try so hard to protect me. To help me. But your help only scares me more. I want you to be my rock but I can’t give in to that. I need to be able to be my own rock, as my best boy is gone and if I let you … fully let you be my world ….
I won’t survive losing you.
So I keep you out. I play it cool. Pretend I want to move slow. I won’t move in with you until we get to a random number of months as if that means anything. Politely laugh of you organizing our perfect wedding … don’t be silly but yeah I am 100% in and I can’t wait! I Completely shut down, hide and run when we face difficulties or even perceived difficulties like your ex picking up a box of stuff. It was nothing. But it freaked me out. So I pulled back with some bs excuse and hid from you. And you always come and find me. Thinking you did something wrong but you didn’t. You are doing everything right .
I am trying my best to love you as hard as I can through the fear. I try to make you feel how amazing you are. I tell you every chance I get. I make you feel it, I know you feel it. You deserve it, all of it. But I simply can’t give it. Not yet. I hope to one day.
Because maybe love is a lie. Maybe it is delusional. But if we can be delusional together, it might work out. We can play pretend in our fairytale. I will do that forever. No doubt.
I’m Sincerely yours The women who adores you

I (25M) hooked up with my colleague (29F) after a company event. We know each other for like two years, but only talking like a year or so, and our topics was only in connection with work. I kinda had a crush on her from the first moment we met. I do think that there were even some signs like, we were ogling a few times, always was looking for the reason for a phone call, and we always had fun, making each other laugh. Well two weeks ago, Friday there was a company event where we were drinking some alcohol too, and after the event we hit a party with a few other colleagues. At the end of the night we ended up in my apartment and had some amazing time together, even the next day was amazing, we hooked up the next day too, so it was not just “drunk fun”. We were even cuddling and holding hands, but the saying goodbye was a bit awkward. I asked her if she would like to talk about the things that just happened, but she said she would like some time to think and she is not ready for the topic. The 1,5 weeks in work i started to feel some good signs, we were chitchatting while the calls, and she didn’t wanted to just get over quickly the must have conversations. She was looking for work related topics to talk about. The problem is i asked her out, for a place that we were talking about, but we were not able to fix a date yet. To be honest i really want this to work, and dont want to mess the situation up, but i would like to know the answer if she is ready to go on some dates, to get to know each other better, or for her it was just a hook up. What would you recommend should i wait fixing the date, or just bring up the things that happened over a phone call, and tell her that i would like to get to know her better. Thank you for the answers. (We are working at the same company but NOT in the same office, so just calling her out for a coffee or going to her desk is not an option)

I (25M) hooked up with my colleague (29F) after a company event. We know each other for like two years, but only talking like a year or so, and our topics was only in connection with work. I kinda had a crush on her from the first moment we met. I do think that there were even some signs like, we were ogling a few times, always was looking for the reason for a phone call, and we always had fun, making each other laugh. Well two weeks ago, Friday there was a company event where we were drinking some alcohol too, and after the event we hit a party with a few other colleagues. At the end of the night we ended up in my apartment and had some amazing time together, even the next day was amazing, we hooked up the next day too, so it was not just “drunk fun”. We were even cuddling and holding hands, but the saying goodbye was a bit awkward. I asked her if she would like to talk about the things that just happened, but she said she would like some time to think and she is not ready for the topic. The 1,5 weeks in work i started to feel some good signs, we were chitchatting while the calls, and she didn’t wanted to just get over quickly the must have conversations. She was looking for work related topics to talk about. The problem is i asked her out, for a place that we were talking about, but we were not able to fix a date yet. To be honest i really want this to work, and dont want to mess the situation up, but i would like to know the answer if she is ready to go on some dates, to get to know each other better, or for her it was just a hook up. What would you recommend should i wait fixing the date, or just bring up the things that happened over a phone call, and tell her that i would like to get to know her better. Thank you for the answers. (We are working at the same company but NOT in the same office, so just calling her out for a coffee or going to her desk is not an option)

I know the title may seem bad but please hear me out. I’ve been talking to this guy let’s call him R. R and I met on VRC (I know, I know can it get anymore red flag?) anyway I met R through a "friend" let’s call B guy. I’m not for sure if B guy and R are friends but I added R on vrc and discord.
After like a few days has gone by if not a week R messaged me on discord. It was the normal small talk of hey, how are you, yada yada. Then he said that I enjoyed hanging out with and I agreed. R seemed like a cool and sweet person to be around and agreed to hang out with him again on vrc.
Fast forward again after a brief break cause I was working my ass off at the time (still is) and I was vrc when R had joined. At first I didn’t recognize him but then he spoke and I remember who he was. We started talking again and I forget who started but I don’t remember if I flirted first or if he did.
But what I do remember that he asked me out on a date (vrc of course) and I agreed. We had our date which was nothing but us hanging out in a private world getting to know each other. He told me some stuff about him and I shared some things about myself. From that day on we’ve been texting each other damn near daily and being on vrc with each other. We was dropping hints that we obviously liked each other. I would drop hints like asking my Alexa on how to tell a guy that I like him. And R would do the same thing basically. Everything was perfect or so I thought.
It wasn’t until a few days ago when we had hung out and stayed up till 3 in morning did things change. He was upset that he had slept in and I told him that it’s okay, no need to beat yourself up about it.
From there we kinda fell back into our routine that day. And this is where things took a turn, while him and I were in the public world on vrc we was vibing listening to Disney music. It was fun to stay the least. When it was time for me to get off I told him that I could make him blush. Which I did by saying that I loved him. He was stunned but he didn’t say I love you too but instead type ily2 with the chat box.
From there I got off and went to work thinking that everything was okay but it wasn’t. When R woke up he was upset that he slept in again and called himself a loser. I told him that he wasn’t one and reassured that it’s okay. Then that’s when he said "I don’t want you to associate with me anymore." Which broke my heart. I thought we had a a connection, I thought we caught a vibe but I was wrong. When I asked what made him feel that way (him being a loser) he didn’t want to tell me.
I kept reassuring him that he wasn’t a loser that he was a good person, one of the sweetest guys I’ve met. I tried to make him feel better, to ignore any negative thoughts that were consuming him. But He pushed me away, even though I said that I wasn’t going anywhere.
But he said that he was a lost cause, that he didn’t want me to get involved with him during his low point. Once again I reassured him that I cared about him and wanted to help him. I told him that I wasn’t going to judge him and to just be honest with me.
Then he told me that "im not your responsibility though and you cant help me." So when that I just unfriended from both vrc and discord. It wasn’t till a few hours later he added me asking why did I delete him. I said what he said to me earlier. Then he gotten upset that I didn’t say goodbye first. I told him that I was hurt, and I didn’t know that I had to say goodbye. Then we had a mini fight, basically saying me ghosting him is what I meant to him. Then I said quote "You mean a lot more to me. More that you’ll ever know. A real person would talk to the person that’s trying to help you. I’m the type of person who would stay by the person side no matter what but if you keep pushing me away then how am I supposed to help? I can’t read your mind I don’t know what you’re thinking." Then he responded with quote "wow, idek what to say, i didnt think you would ghost me, and then say your hurt, crazy." Then he unfriended me.
So now I gotta ask, AITA?

Last night my car was parked on the road near my house (England). A car has reversed in mine, shunted it on to the pavement and damaged the rear quite a bit. They left their number.
I spoke to the the woman on the end of the phone, she said she'd rather not go through insurance and they'll pay for the repairs.
I got a quote from somewhere in walking distance who I've used before. £1200. I relay this to the woman and she says they want more quotes from further afield. I explain I would rather use this garage for the reasons above. I have now received a written estimate from the garage detailing the cost.
She is saying I am being too rigid and they want to gather more quotes. I am saying I want my car repaired and to know that I am safe driving it once the bodywork's replaced and repaired.
Colleagues have told me I have 24 hours to report the damage to the insurers. My preference would be to go through the insurers, but there's the risk it would be written off (according to colleague who has been through similar). Then I'll have the hassle and significant cost of replacing a 13 year old car that has been very trustworthy and carefully driven.
What should I do?
EDIT - met up with woman and her husband this evening. They were very unfriendly, wanting me to be more flexible, but ultimately agreed to pay for my garage. I have logged it with my insurers tonight who said I can still make a claim in the future.

I work in very toxic work environment. By profession I am an animatotechnical artist for games. I was given the responsibility of researching and developing the production pipeline for a game and after it became successful I was asked to give kt to my manager. But once the kt started it was literally hell on earth. My manager first of all told the rest of the team that he doesn't need dedicated kt and he can learn runtime only. After I started giving him kt I got to understand that he's pretty slow and hasn't updated his technical skills at all. In fact he doesn't even know the basic fundamentals of character animation. I literally was having to spoonfeed him and on top of that he was making several mistakes which I had to cover up delaying my own delivery. None of the other members of cross function team know that. On top of that he was taking it so casually as if I'll be always there to cover up for him. He wasn't putting any effort to do minimum amount of self study. He rarely stayed at his desk and chatted with other colleagues while I was doing the work. This was putting extra pressure on me. Gradually I was becoming cranky and while teaching him it was coming out. Today he suddenly snapped at me at said that I'm taking advantage of him and all. He said that he has come to office when his wife is unwell (He didn't mention about that since morning. Usually if he has a problem he doesn't come to office only or informs it beforehand that he will leave early). He just packed his bags and left saying that "I'm not doing this. I don't care you guys do whatever you want". Others were looking at me as if I did something wrong. The producer literally came and asked me what happened, why did he leave like that. He was supposed to take liability for the delivery which he left mid way. Now tell me if a female employee like me does that wouldn't we be considered emotional or overdramatic? Idk how is this fare? And when he's my manager he should be more responsible and not act like a school kid. He literally took advantage of my politeness and gaslit me instead. This reminds me of Taylor Swift's quote that "Women are always expected to absorb male behaviour."

F,32. Guys, I'm really mentally tired as I type this. But I'm going to give you complete context to get proper advice. I have ~7 years of work experience in the B2B industrial sector (international sales now). I've led several teams during this timespan but never became a people manager till last year. Last year, suddenly, I was given a resource - a fresher (genz if it's relevant?) - he was selected for the domestic team first but then transferred to international due to reasons unknown. But that's how I became a 1st time people manager. It's been an year of working with him. My personality type is generally that of a guider, helper and a sincere worker. So during this 1 year of working here are somethings that have bugged me - I know he's into creative things and this isn't his choice of work for sure but he's sticking it out - Everytime I give him a work, he never gets back to me till I remind him about it - He will never take proactive approach to connecting with customers or getting an order. It always feels like I need to push him - He never keeps his commitment of timelines - Never has he completed an Excel or a task without errors - He keeps forgetting things - He doesn't get back to customers until they remind him - I was under tremendous pressure with my workload doubled before he joined, somehow it feels tripled after an year - I need to follow up for every activity with him - He mixes up names of colleagues even today and hasn't bonded with anyone - We were on a concall with my manager, and he lied to him about a task while I was also on call - he's extremely religious (although I don't know if this matters here)
What have I dome about it (afrtrall I'm just a 1st time manager, maybe I am wrong)
-I have had 1-on-1 sessions in person and over Teams with him to see what's wrong. He says he's overwhelmed with so much work. I told him to make a task list and write everything down and we can discuss which things to prioritise. He did that only when I was on call with him once and never did it again - I have had multiple 2-3 hour handoveknowledge transfer sessions with him - I have always expressed openness and availability for any doubts - I've called out on the lie later in a separate call, and told him building credibility and trust is important - I've pressed on importance of timeline - I've informed my manager on delay of tasks once
Example of today- Was on call with him discussing this month's sales plan. He happened to not even remember that a customer had asked for an important quote. Also he had to submit the plan, but kept saying OK and never submitted it. Ended up sending an email to the wrong person in the internal team inspite of interacting with them multiple times. Another team mate had to loop them in. It wasn't your everyday error. They just can't put face and name to correct person in that department ever.

There is no PIP in our company that I know of. And I feel like calling out on him might reflect badly on me being a first time people manager , specially female.
But I'm sincerely mentally tired guys. Very. What can I do more?

I’m writing this post for myself, to help me understand the trauma that I’ve gone through, I’m writing this for the friends I’ve lost over the years, and I’m writing this to help me begin to regain control of my life.
In 2016, I began a 7 year long relationship with an abusive partner. Throughout the years, I had attempted to leave on multiple occasions. Each and every single friend of mine, whether I made these friendships beforehand or after this relationship began, had continuously told me that I needed to leave. Each of my friends, on the very off chance I would be allowed to see them, could not only see my mental health deteriorating, but my entire personality fading, as I was controlled, manipulated, mentally and physically abused.
While my partner abused and isolated me this way, my partner was also the one who catered to my every need. After a few years of this controlling and isolation had passed, I was left almost completely reliant on this person. I gradually lost most, if not almost all of my friends, as I was denied seeing them. I was denied spending time engaging in my hobbies, leading me to miss out on many things and many opportunities that I looked forward to. I was however, allowed to see my family, though was still unable to act like myself while I played with my siblings, without worrying about being abused once back home due to “acting like an idiot”.
On the occasions that I did attempt to leave, not only did my partner do everything in an attempt to stop me from leaving, such as blocking the door with a knife in her hand, or if I did manage to leave, do everything to coerce me back to her, but my family would also make me rethink my decision too. My family were always happy to see both my partner and I, but they had, and still have little idea of what was occurring back at home. I cannot even begin to start writing about the things I endured.
Eventually, it seemed like it was no use. More years passed and it became harder and harder to leave. My entire family had become accustomed to my partner and I, seeing us at every family event and occasion, so I simply accepted the abuse. At the very end of 2018, we were now living in a house close to my parents’, fully paid off and purchased under my partners’ name, which my partner, my family and I all watched build and helped create.
I lived in that house with my partner for 4.5 years. Covid occurred shortly after the house was built. It was during covid where the abuse subsided a fair amount. I was able to enjoy my hobbies for the time, and despite the occasional argument and hair pulling, things really were quite tame in comparison for the most part.
My partner made me enrol into a uni course I really had no interest in, and I failed miserably at it, failing each subject in the first semester. I enrolled into another course during 2021, which I completed and this has helped me to acquire my current position.
The entire time we were together, nothing was ever “ours”. It was either mine or my partners’, despite being and living together for so long, and despite being legally registered as a De Facto relationship. This became very apparent to me in 2022, where she consistently made big life changing decisions without even informing me first. This included but doesn’t even scratch the surface of everything; wanting to move overseas, or inter-state, purchasing multiple pets, and what really led me to leave my partner, turning our living room into a dog-breeding centre upwards of 10+ dogs, excluding all their puppies. The smell was abhorrent. I could not invite friends over, I could not invite family over. The smell would linger through each room, onto all our clothes and everything else.
I already established that trying to leave normally was not possible, so I had to find a way for her to kick ME out. I’m ashamed of the way I did this, but in May 2023 I made it happen. I dated another girl a couple of times before telling my partner.
I was asked to pack up my things and leave right there. I felt instant relief. A huge mental strain that was part of my life for years was finally gone. Every time my friends cheered for me when “I had broken up” with my partner, only for me to go right back each time and let them all down, finally I could say i did it.
At least, so I thought.
Things were great with my new girlfriend and I, we really hit it off. My now ex partner, however, hadn’t given up. This person made my life more miserable than I could have thought possible, all in an attempt to get me to come back.
My ex partner, for the better part of over half a year, was not only constantly messaging me through each day and night, sometimes I’d wake up to multiple thousand unread messages, my ex was also showing up to my work each day, on both my lunch breaks and at the end of the day, attempting to get me back. Arguments would ensue between us, luckily not exactly in front of my workplace, but the next street over where I parked my car. Every time I said “No”, I’d either be struck or slapped and screamed at.
One day I’ll forever remember, was when my ex tracked my location. (Which I then later found out she knew where I was every second of each day.) One day, while I was staying at my girlfriends’ place, I receive a message from my ex. It’s a picture of her standing out the front. Without writing everything that happened afterwards, I somehow managed to control chaos from ensuing without notifying my girlfriend of this at the time. I found out my ex was tracking my iPhone and made sure to turn that off.
What I’ve written here doesn’t even scratch the surface of everything my ex did. It got to the point where not only my parents, but my work colleagues would be asking me to get an IVO or press charges against my ex, telling me to record every time something happened as evidence.
Of course, with all of this happening almost every day, things between me and my new girlfriend were not great. My ex partner couldn’t stop themselves from continuing to negatively impact my life, and now also impacting my new girlfriend too. My mental state at this stage, the 7 years of abuse, the loss of my friends, the disengagement from my hobbies, the stress from my job, everything my ex was doing, and now my new girlfriend wanting us to break up due to it all, I was completely and utterly broken.
In this state, my ex managed to coerce me back to her many times. Every time she showed up to my work, every time she’d show up at my house, every time she’d find me and follow me home, all while I’m trying to balance the time constraints of my job and even more time spent attempting to console my girlfriend and beg her to not leave me, it continued to break me more and more.
Eventually, many months later, things finally settled down with my ex. I could finally apologise to my girlfriend for everything that happened and for her being caught in the crossfire. I never wanted any of it to happen.
I thought we’d finally be able to start being happy together. But yet again, I was very wrong.
After all the begging, the consoling, how hard I tried to make sure I could be with this girl, my life only became much, much worse after my ex was out of the picture.
Of course, after everything that occurred, there was no trust from her. I understood she’d need to build that up from the ground again, at this point we would have been together for half a year.
In order for her to trust me, I was asked to live with her, for her to be able to check my phone every day to make sure nothing was happening, for her to log into my social media accounts and emails for the same reason too, and just like my ex, controlled me and isolated me away from my hobbies and seeing my friends.
So, now I was living much further away from my family, my friends and my work. Taking up to or over an hour if traffic was bad. I was giving in to every demand my girlfriend asked, and if I ever disagreed on something, or said no to something, I was yet again, mentally and physically abused.
But this time, much worse than my ex ever did.
I have had the police called on me, multiple times, including being accused of rape, where I was placed in handcuffs for hours overnight, for a reason I did not know until they finally let me go in the early hours of the morning before a work day. (The accusation was ruled as false after she told them it was a lie. Thank God. But that’s the thing, what if she went through with the lie? My life would be completely ruined).
And, you guessed it, my ex took this as another opportunity to coerce me back. But now my parents were once again on her side too, after that incident. I stayed for a few days, but I couldn’t go back to someone who hurt me for so long, someone who didn’t include me in her life decisions, but everything was just like before; my ex coercing me to stay, my parents making me rethink my decisions, and I couldn’t deal with that again, though something else was playing on my mind at the time, too.
Before this rape accusation, she fell pregnant. With my line of work, I’ve seen what happens to families, especially the children, when people aren’t ready for a kid. I gave her my thoughts, but ultimately it was her decision. If I was to be a dad, then I would be the best dad as I could be.
So, after the false rape accusation, after even the police told me to leave, I still went back to her, because of this, as well as it being the only way I knew I could distance myself from my ex.
My girlfriend promised to never call the police on me ever again. And we decided that since she wanted this baby, we really needed to get to know each other better. But it was here when the unthinkable amount of physical abuse began, and yet again, another extreme mental decline.
Almost daily physical abuse. I was accustomed to this from my ex already, but not to this extent. Torso and arms, black and blue, occasional bite marks, I have never seen my skin turn such a dark colour before in my life, some bruising lasting literal months before they disappeared. I was the one being abused, and I was the one being blamed as the reason, and I was the one doing my everything I could to keep the relationship together. I was literally a personal assistant who’d be punished for disobeying. I was doing everything she wanted or I would be abused. Doing everything she wanted or she’d threaten to break up with me. I tried so hard already, I endured so much already, I sacrificed so much already, a 7 year long relationship that lost all my friends in the process, and now the loss of all the friends I made on my ex partners’ side, so I continued to stay.
Constant checking of my phone and other devices, constant controlling of how I use my free time, constant denial of letting me engage in my hobbies, constant isolation from now not only my now minimal amount of friends, but now my family more than ever, and how far we lived now made it worse. In the past year, I’ve seen one friend. Once. And she wouldn’t let me go unless she came with me. I’ve seen my family a fair more times, she coming with me most of those, but it was a struggle each time. Even big family events like Christmas were a struggle to attend.
Moving back a little bit, to after the rape accusation, my girlfriend and I were doing our best, the abuse had not yet gotten to the point as described above, until the last trick up my ex’s sleeve.
While my girlfriend was pregnant, my ex messages me with a positive pregnancy test too. She was on the pill the entire time we knew each other and we never had a problem. She coerced me back after the police incident and must have stopped taking her pill beforehand, without letting me know.
So, now I have both my ex and current partner pregnant, both abusing me, both destroying my mental state, both wanting to keep these children as, quote, “an act of revenge”, while I’m also trying to complete my time consuming work duties, a lot of which needed to be completed at home.
BY WHAT COULD ONLY BE DIVINE INTERVENTION, both of them had miscarriages. I should have left both of them right there. Started fresh. Started living my life, but no. I stayed with my current partner, hoping she’d change with my ex partner now completely out of the picture.
For the most part, she did. She started treating me like a lover, over half year into the relationship. The abuse still continued, though. The hardest part about abusive relationships? You can tell your partner loves you, so you do everything you can for them, so you let them treat you these ways, you think it will eventually stop, right? Wrong. It only gets worse. You do more and more for your partner each day, and they treat you worse and worse. But you continue to do it, but you know you can’t be treated this way anymore, but you continue to stay because of how much you’ve endured already.
It only gets harder to leave with each day that passes. You endure more and more, and give more and more, and eventually, you realise it’s too much.
I had to skip many, many days of work. With my line of work, I couldn’t come in with bruises everywhere, no way. With no-one else to turn to, I had been telling my work colleagues everything that’s been occurring in my life the entire time. Work, although stressful, was the one thing I looked forward to. I would start worrying how I’d be treated each night when work was finishing. I dreaded going home.
I stepped down from my leading role at the end of the year to a much less stressful position. I finally gained some well needed mental relief in doing so, despite all the ever-escalating abuse occurring.
Eventually, the abuse was too much for even my boss. I was not only a former shell of myself from my ex, but now a former shell of my former shell. My boss could see this insane decline in mental health, my boss saw my bruises. My boss literally took me out of work and walked me to the police station, staying there until I was finished.
Ultimately I told them I did not want to press charges, nor apply for an IVO as the officer was requesting I do, so the officer simply gave me his card, and wrote, “Leave.”.
Did I? No.
From then on, the abuse has honestly died down a bit. That’s not to say it’s become a healthy relationship at all. Still constant checking of my devices and social media, still denying me from my hobbies, still applying time constraints on everything. She could be nice! She could be! We had good days! But only if I was breaking my back making sure to either do or don’t do every single little thing that might make her even slightly upset.
I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself again. It felt as if I was starting back from square one, except much worse. A year later, I finally found it within myself to leave.
To all the friends I’ve neglected over the years, I’m sorry. Sorry for everything I’ve missed, sorry for not being part of your life and sorry for missing out on such big life events. I would like to see you all again.
I want to engage in my hobbies again. I want to see my family more often. I want to be able to do something any human being would be allowed to do, without needing to worry about how much screaming I’ll have to listen to, or how much of my hair will be pulled out, or how blue my arms would be afterward, as I’ve endured for 8 years.
I’ve learnt from my mistakes, I will finally begin putting myself first. I can finally live my life the way I should have been able to all this time. I can finally work on myself instead of catering to someone else’s needs 24 hours a day, being denied doing the things I want, being abused like this, while doing my best to balance and not let these things interfere with all my other obligations.
It will certainly take me time to heal, but I’ll get there. There’s a better life for me out there. 💪
^ thats what I posted a couple weeks ago. Since posting, many old friends contacted me, I met up with them all during that week away from her, yet I went back.
It’s an endless cycle of her crying and begging me to come back, only for her to scream and hit me to leave her.
Despite being able to do anything I want, I feel so empty being away from her, and I know she loves me, but she just can’t stop hurting me.
I’m just hurting myself, my friends, my family, by going back. I’m spending all my time keeping this relationship together, trying harder each day, while I be treated worse and worse in return.
Extremely huge thanks to anyone who spend the time to read this. Extremely huge thanks to anyone who commented regardless of reading it or not.

It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Taishen… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.
“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.
“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.
I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.
A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.
I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.
I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.
I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.
The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist. The vulnerability equation is imprinted on my brain.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.
Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.
From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.
Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin, it tells worth—the reason for troubles—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
In a pit. I get to burn as paper amongst another’s paper. Eternally. With a life that will keep reoccurring.
Part 3 Liu
A woman like Chang’e lived on a moon. Far away.
You can refer to me as Liu.
At the age of 19 I was diagnosed with a severe nerve pain condition. It is called trigeminal neuralgia but you can call it TN for ease.
I was frustrated. I had completed a degree in international finances from Chongqing University of Business and Technology. The boom of the economy was not the same. There was an urge to “lay flat”—to not try as a form of opposition to everything going on in a waning economy in China.
All are elephants chained for an audience. People love to peek and stare as though they are glass doors without hinges—to be made feel useless.
I developed TN at the age of 19, and was now 22. It came as an arrow, and quite literally to the face. It’s a rare nerve pain disorder often considered one of the most painful conditions known.
The illness involves intense nerve pain throughout the left side of my face. It felt like someone was trying to pull all of the teeth on the left side of my face without anesthesia. The pain can leave me falling to the floor unable to speak or move while screaming profanities while choked by pain. A feeling of a knife to my face over and over again. It leaves me in absolute shock. Like Roman candles to the face. An absolute hindrance. The anticipation of not knowing when it will happen again is a nightmare at times.
The disease is often called the suicide disease, apparently up to 26% try to take their lives. In a state of panic during one of the nerve attacks I began swallowing any pill near to me. I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped when I was found comatose by my mother.
I want to be Chang’e and on the moon and away from a world I have had enough of.
Gossip spread around the workplace that I attempted suicide over an affair with a married man. There was too much guilt to return to the workplace. COVID did have an impact to the economy. I still remember my hometown having dirt and trees piled onto the exits and entrances to the city keep people in their places.
The work I did find felt beneath me. China has what is called the great firewall that keeps something in and out of the country’s networks. A VPN was necessary to access American TikTok as it was used as opposed to the Chinese version.
Feels humiliating the nature of the outcome for me—I gave up in many ways like so many Chinese youth. For work I would go to a local office building. Amongst a long hall would be a room for live stream performers. I would entertain with watchers while trying to obtain virtual gifts for actual money. I despised it—sometimes the conversation could be funny or interesting but it felt hollow.
I would paint flowers on my face and wear hanfu clothing while doing ASMR.
I had a mind of sparklers burning until it burnt and stung like wax—like I had the option to stop and cry and those tears stuck as wax and burnt or I soldiered on and grew accustomed to the pain. I was an elephant chained. The audience watched and interacted with me on the live. I was a chained elephant when it was found out about my previous attempt and when the rumors spread.
Too many thorns in life. Nails hitting at the wrong points like an equation for something terrible to eventually happen.
My favorite dish was Henan noodles. I often cooked it with my mom. It provides great memories of childhood. I hadn’t talked to my mother as much as before. She moved to a job in Taiyuan.
Sometimes I would go up to visit her. But it was harder as she worked more and more hours. Sometimes voids build even when going through extreme nerve pain. And with trigeminal neuralgia, the pain was so intense that I would freeze and scream in pain. It cannot always be hid. It made me an elephant tethered.
Life can be like a pressure like no other. Too much stress. Makes one feel irritable with a mouth like a sprinkler of napalm when someone is too close. Life feels like a lit fire cracker held—in the end it would tear my hand up. Things kept building while the other side of my face began to hurt too recently. This was rare and not so common. My eyesight was becoming blurry too and it seemed I might have multiple sclerosis as the pain was on both side, it was not common for my age, and the blurry eyesight. An appointment was scheduled and I felt terrified to know what was going on and wondered if it was best to not even know my health.
I walked out of the studio and had a cigarette. My boss came out and joined to talk. He was concerned about view count and wanted me to do things to increase it that made me feel uncomfortable. He made a few comments I found incentive.
The boss sure liked to criticize and apply pressure. He was not impressed with my work and thought I could do something different. In China an application is used called WeChat. This application has many uses. People can display and share moments like a Facebook wall, message each other, send money, video chat, and even has a feature to find people near to you who are also looking for people near to them. I was to attract people onto dates. The idea was they would be lured in and the men would go to a set destination to a planned tea house that served snacks. When the men arrived (they had no knowledge of the setup) the bill would be at an absurd rate and if the men refused to pay larger men would use their size to force them to pay up.
I was not sure at the time yet if I wanted the job. Being worried about ethics and safety. It was something I would have to think about.
My medical expenses were growing and I knew the nerve disease could be expensive to treat with surgery. All I had was thoughts while looking at the moon.
Part 4 Taishen
My former roommate in the ward I shared a room with had paranoid schizophrenia. I was stuck in the same place due to mania, and just had gotten my diagnosis of bipolar disorder.
I was so pissed being stuck there and felt I had no business being there. I found my diagnosis to be an insult to me. I was only 18 at the time—taken in on a stretcher. Made me feel very vulnerable and irritated.
My roommate was having delusions related to Christianity and could not stop waking me up in the middle of the night to ask and talk about Jesus. Left me beyond frustrated.
He was drifting from his wife and would go on and on about intending to leave her. Felt he was spied and plotted against by her. So we were both frustrated with being there.
The toilets were special. They would flush what needed to be flushed but not certain things like pills—it helped to keep people from hiding they were not taking their medications.
He had tried to flush his wedding ring down the toilet but he did not realized it didn’t flush. I went to use the restroom later and saw the ring. I told him. He took it out. He found it to be a sign form God that he is to stay with his wife, and there was immense happiness in his eyes.

This story may seem a bit outlandish, insane even. But when you’re a scientist at a lab that no one even knows about and a strange man in a tube is begging you to tell their story and screaming to get it out to the public, you feel obliged to tell it. Now, I know this may result in my immediate termination, if not worse, but honestly? I don’t quite care. If there is even a grain of truth to this story, people deserve to know. I’d also like to tell you that I am no writer, so if this isn’t great, I do apologize.
“And for the missing person reports that date back many years, police still have not found any leads to the odd disappearance of multiple people around our little town of Welks, Utah. If police find any new leads, I, Nathan White, will be the first to give you the news.” Nathan White is a small town reporter who is finishing up his final words of the day's news. Charlie Akins, Nathan’s colleague and long time friend is manning the camera. Nathan is your typical guy who never gives up and has the determination of a beaver building its dam. He will take any story he is given and will do his best to make it the best. Charlie on the other hand is about as outgoing as a sloth and so paranoid he can’t go anywhere without thinking the worst, but will never leave his friend’s side.
Soon after the two wrap up, Charlie gets a call from their boss who claims to have a new story they could cover. Nathan places their gear in the news van as Charlie walks over. With the way Charlie nervously walks over, Nathan knows something is odd. “So what’s the deal? We got a story or what?” Charlie gets in the driver seat of the van without saying a word and Nathan quickly follows, getting into the passenger seat.
As Charlie begins driving, he tells Nathan what their boss had spoken to him about. An old abandoned government facility sits out in the farthest outskirts of the town. It’s in the shape of a dome that’s large enough to house an entire town. There’s no records of anyone ever entering the facility since the 50’s and no one seems to know what it was for. Only thing anyone knows, or suspects, is that it may be cursed or haunted as people who have ever been near it claim to hear screams and voices coming from within. Charlie is hesitant of even the thought of covering the story but continues to drive assuming Nathan will be intrigued. Charlie was correct, of course, as Nathan quickly calls their boss to inform him that they’re checking it out.
Without question, Charlie continues driving until they are so far out that Welks is completely out of sight in the rearview mirror. They eventually see a large structure in the distance that they quickly realize is the center of their new story. “Holy shit, Charlie! I’ve never seen this place before and just… Wow,” Nathan says excitedly.
“Nathan, I don’t know about this one. Something seems off. Even the boss seemed hesitant to tell me about this place,” Charlie responds.
“Come on, Charlie. We’ve always wanted to cover a GHOST STORY.”
“No, YOU have always wanted to cover a ghost story. I’ve always wanted to get the hell away from every single person I come in contact with and sleep in my bed.”
“Don’t do me like that.”
“You know I’ve got your back through thick and thin, Nate. But I’ve seriously got a bad feeling about this one.”
“I know but come on, serious-... ly…”
Nathan is awestruck by the sight of a large sign on the outer brink of a long driveway leading to the entrance of the dome. The sign reads:
RESTRICTED AREA
ENVIRODOME
“WE EXPERIMENT FOR THE SAFETY OF OUR PEOPLE”
SPECIAL ACCESS IS NEEDED BEYOND THIS POINT
Although it was obvious by the city-sized dome in the middle of the desert, this sign fully confirmed they were in the right place. They continue down the driveway until they finally reach a parking lot that lies in front of the only noticeably cube-like design of the entire facility. The parking lot was small, or at least it seemed that way based on how huge the building was.
Nathan and Charlie assumed it would be glass, but instead, the decrepit building, now known to be The Envirodome, was made of a strong thick, yet rusted metal. They realized this was most likely by design considering the people who created it wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know what went on inside. Almost the entire building was covered in a thick layer of vines except for the front door. The doors at the entrance were oddly only covered in smaller vine growth that was far more fragile than the rest.
Charlie parks the van as an awestruck Nathan barely waits for him to stop and exits the passenger side. Charlie hesitantly follows suit. Nathan reaches the double entrance doors and rips away the vines. He quickly finds the handle of the right door and much to his surprise, it cracks open.
“Ooh spooky,” Nathan jokingly says to Charlie.
“Shut up,” Charlie snaps back.
As Nathan and Charlie open the large metal door and walk inside, they find far more than, yet somehow everything, they had expected. The duo walk inside only to find an entire small community within. Businesses, homes, trees and more fill the miles long dome in all directions, seemingly to no end.
“There’s a whole damn town in this place?! How the hell did not a single person know this existed,” Charlie exclaims out of pure shock.
“Dude… How the fuck am I suppose to know? That’s why we’re here, remember? To cover the story of this place and get it out to the people…” Nathan sarcastically snaps back.
Charlie, nervous as all hell, ignores Nathan as they continue forward in the hopes to find information on this place somewhere inside. They don’t even reach but about 10-15 feet inside before the door slams shut behind them and locks itself into place. Once fully locked, the doors start to change as if there was never a door or wall there at all. It quickly changes into a hyper-realistic hologram of more trees and roads. Soon enough, it looked as if an exit never even existed.
Nathan quickly realizes that there seemingly are no walls in any direction. However, realistically and logically, there must be dead ends in all directions, the dome was obviously designed in a special way. Although there was a dome surrounding the town inside, there were still plenty of places Nathan and Charlie could explore. With beautifully green trees all around, houses and even rundown businesses, the entire place looked and felt like a normal little town instead of the inside of a previously government owned facility. Despite absolutely not a single structural flaw in the dome, a small breeze glides through the air, whistling to the ears of any who would listen.
Both Nathan and Charlie are confused, yet in awe, by the experience at hand, but still they carry on. Nathan suggests going to the nearest building to search for information as he takes his next steps into the oddly beautiful scenery. Charlie, however, hesitates his next step until he realizes Nathan is already further ahead of him. Trees dance and sway in the cool breeze, grass and vines grow over large rocks and multiple buildings, and even clouds sail through the beautifully blue skies that couldn’t possibly be real but at this point it’s not unbelievable. With so much to admire, Nathan quickly loses focus on the task at hand until Charlie speaks up.
“Hey, Nate. Shouldn’t we hurry up and get to wherever the hell we’re going?”
“Huh? Oh… Yeah, yeah. Sorry…”
Nathan snaps back to his senses and continues forward. As they continue to what seems like a small neighborhood, they notice something in the distant wooded area. It’s a four-legged creature that could be a wolf or coyote. Nathan and Charlie pick up speed as they are unsure of what it could really be and prefer not to be attacked.
On arrival to the neighborhood, the two men notice that multiple mannequins are oddly placed around as if they had been living a life. An eerie feeling washes over them as they both become a little more skeptical of being there. Nathan looks back to check on his friend and notices Charlie is visibly paranoid as he looks around. He feels a moment of guilt for making him come here for a story to cover, but that moment was just that. A moment. Nathan quickly nudges Charlie to get him to come with him as he walks up to an open house.
As they walk in, they split up. Charlie searches the living room and kitchen. Nathan goes straight to the farthest bedroom in the back. Searching every nook and cranny, Nathan finds absolutely nothing but an old withered bible. He begins to walk into another room when suddenly, Charlie’s voice echoes through the empty hallway.
“Holy fuck,” Charlie exclaims.
“What’s wrong,” Nathan yells while running into the living room.
Nathan finds Charlie holding an old yellowed stack of papers. Charlie hands them to Nathan without uttering a single word. On top is an old document that reads:
Aug. 17, 1953: Testing is ready to commence for Project 718/Operation “SUPER” in the environment dome. However, there are no volunteers for testing just yet.
Aug. 18, 1953: Chief scientist, Dr. Maximus Woods, has volunteered as prime subject under the name: Subject Zero. All tests are now being prepared.
Aug. 20, 1953: Day 1 of testing has started. The Super Serum has been injected into Dr. Maximus Woods A.K.A Subject Zero at approximately 12:53 A.M. It has been hours and nothing has happened thus far.
Aug. 25, 1953: Subject Zero has gained a slight form of telekinesis. Small signs of abnormally quick healing factors have also appeared, taking only a couple of hours to fully heal mid-large wounds made on the subject's body. Tests, so far, seem to be successful with no side effects.
Aug. 30, 1953: Subject Zero has had impressive changes with easy to control telekinesis, rapid healing, and even large amounts of strength.
Sep. 5, 1953: Over the past week, Subject Zero has been undergoing small changes in personality, possibly a slight side effect of the serum. This will be monitored.
Sep. 10, 1953: Subject Zero has become rapidly unstable, showing major signs of insanity. Subject does not seem to realize the environment is simulated and treats test mannequins placed around the environment dome as if they were living beings.
Sep. 17, 1953: Multiple teams have been sent in to try and allow real communication with living beings. However, all teams have been killed by Subject Zero. He also does not allow anyone to retrieve the bodies and it is unclear what he does with them.
Oct. 3, 1953: Subject has become far too unstable to continue any further testing. All research will be abandoned but a small team will remain in the overseer’s office. For full safety measures, this team has agreed that if the facility must be destroyed then they will die with it. This was the intended way in case of emergency. If the facility is self-destructed, no one inside will survive.
“What the hell…” Nathan says fearfully.
“Read the newspaper article that’s attached,” says Charlie.
The newspaper article reads:
October 3, 1953
Today, the government-run facility, Envirodome, had been shut down after multiple men had been slaughtered at the hands of the company’s very own test subject, Subject Zero. The few men who made it out alive today could not speak of or about the tests done but we were told that their subject is still inside the facility. Test Subject Zero was locked inside only as a safety protocol but many wonder, how long will he remain there?
Upon this discovery, Nathan stops to think and wonders if he screwed up by taking on this story to cover. Nathan, being himself, tries to lighten the mood but before uttering a single word, he is cut off by a rough and deep voice in the distance. The voice now being the only thing to focus on, Nathan and Charlie look out the front windows of the old house and spot the figure of a man playing baseball with a mannequin.
Upon further inspection, the man is wearing clothes obviously not of this era. With an old 50’s jacket that is nearly torn to shreds, an old pair of blue jean slacks, a red shoe on one foot and a black one on the other and hair that clearly hasn’t been washed in years, the man is the exact look and description of pure insanity. Not just with his looks but also with his actions, he clearly is not a stable man.
In the yard of the next house over, the man is talking and playing catch with a mannequin. “For the last time Jimmy, I’m tired of your shit! Catch the damn ball or at the very least attempt to instead of just standing there,” the crazed man screams as he chucks a baseball at its head resulting in its immediate decapitation. Nathan, with a humor full of bad timing, nearly bursts into laughter.
“Shut the fuck up, Nathan! That’s the guy from the document and newspaper article. He’s Dr… Uh… Maximus Woods! Subject Zero! He’s been here since the 50’s,” Charlie fearfully exclaims.
“There’s no way in hell, Charlie. The guy doesn’t even look like he’s past his mid-30’s.”
“I told you to call me Subject Zero! That old name is dead to me!” The man, now confirmed to be Subject Zero, yells out to another mannequin.
“Believe me now, asshat,” Charlie snaps at Nathan.
“Shush! What was that?” Subject Zero quickly snaps his attention to Nathan and Charlie’s direction and begins to walk to them. The two men look at each other in fearful confusion and simultaneously say, “oh shit.”
Instinctually, Charlie runs out of the house from fear and with a quick, “FUCK!” Nathan follows him. Running out of the house like a couple of preyed upon animals, they run up the street further into the neighborhood. Taking a quick glance, Nathan spots a strange sight. Subject Zero and many other figures are chasing after them. Upon further examination, Nathan realizes that what he’s witnessing is something straight out of a horror movie. The other figures are , in fact, not even humans. They’re mannequins! All the mannequins they had seen back at the other houses are now moving like humans and coming right for them alongside Subject Zero.
Nathan is running so fast you could mistake him for a train breaking loose from its tracks, but sadly, Charlie is slowing down, unable to keep up with his friend. Nathan manages to reach a hiding spot behind a dumpster, unintentionally leaving Charlie to await his own horrors as Nathan is nothing but forced to watch.
Charlie begins to stumble and trips over his own feet. Soon after, the mannequins catch up to him. Nathan wants to help, but knows he can’t so all he does is watch in horror. Lying on the ground, Charlie gasps for air as the mannequins and Subject Zero surround him. They stare at him for a moment before eventually beating him simultaneously until Charlie is soaked in his own blood, barely alive. Suddenly, they stop. Charlie, nearly lifeless, drags his gaze in Nathan’s direction. He mouths, “GO” before coughing up blood. Nathan holds back tears and vomit as he looks away in guilt. All the mannequins that were once beating the life out of Charlie turn around and scatter before ultimately becoming, once again, inanimate objects. Like a lion searching for its prey, Subject Zero scans the area.
With danger nearby, Nathan looks around to find a house with any open doors to attempt to find safety. He spots a nearby house with an open window and decides it's his best option. Without hesitation, Nathan sprints to the window and leaps in like a gazelle escaping its demise. Much to his surprise, he went unnoticed.
“I might be insane, but I know I wasn't just seeing double of your little friend here. Where the hell are you,” screams Subject Zero as two mannequins carry Charlie's bloodied, yet still alive, body away. Nathan, afraid, yet determined, locks himself inside the house and sits behind a kitchen counter.
He looks up to see if it's safe enough to search the house. Once he realizes it is, he begins to look around. The kitchen is oddly empty. Not a single piece of silverware, plate or food. Out of the entire house, the living room is the best looking part, even though it still looks like a tornado came through it. With hopes of finding something, Nathan scrummages through everything lying on the decrepit wooden floor.
After a moment of searching, Nathan notices multiple papers scattered around all dated October of 1953. All the papers say different things about Project ‘SUPER’ and Subject Zero. Although most papers essentially say the same things, one paper stands out the most. It’s a newspaper dated a few days after the imminent shutdown of the facility.
October 9, 1953
The project was abandoned and only a few escaped but one former employee of Envirodome decides to speak up about the events. “The main doors may have been closed but they sadly were not locked,” the scientist tells our interviewer, “Oddly, the doors were made to allow people in but not back out unless you went to the overseer’s office and unlocked the main doors. All this means, anyone who decides to go inside without knowing this info will be trapped forever with a psycho maniac. Fortunately, Subject Zero’s insanity affected his mind so badly he doesn’t even realize he’s in a fake little world that’s specially made for him.”
A little further down the same newspaper article it reads:
The former Envirodome employee continues. “All documents will state that Dr. Maximus Woods volunteered to be Subject Zero, but that just isn’t true. We tricked him. You see, we needed someone and Dr. Woods was just this weird scientist that no one really liked. We convinced him that if he volunteered that he would be a hero. Someone who could save our world if the serum worked. He was so happy and we just laughed at him but knew we needed him for the tests. As soon as everything began, it all ended. As he became more and more deranged, he also became more determined to make the serum work. He eventually took living people he kept with him and made his own serum to try and perfect it. But it never worked. It just leads to each person to become crazier and far quicker. He ended up just killing everyone that the serum didn’t work on. God knows what he does to any poor soul that innocently walks into that building and gets trapped.”
With this new knowledge, Nathan knew he fucked up by coming into this beautiful hell. Now filled with dreaded emotions, he gets onto his feet and sets onward through the hallway. As he reaches the beginning of the hallway, the front door is unexpectedly busted down by an already all too familiar figure, Subject Zero.
Reacting quickly, Nathan sprints to the farthest back room of the house. Being the master bedroom, it has plenty of space but sadly doesn’t have a lock on the door. Thinking quickly, Nathan slams the door and nervously shoves a large stand up dresser down on its side and in front of the doorway. He knows it won’t hold for long, especially considering, just a mere seconds ago, he witnessed Subject Zero burst a door off its hinges in the blink of an eye.
Subject Zero is on the hunt, looking in every room all while Nathan stands in the master bedroom freaking out. Eventually, he comes to his senses and looks out the room's only window. It’s quite a drop below due to the house sitting on a slanted yard. Without hesitation, Nathan prepares himself for his only option. He opens the window and prepares to jump as the door of the room begins to be beaten upon. The door eventually breaks in half and standing on the other side is Subject Zero. Nathan slings himself out the window but it inevitably leads to pain.
Nathan, with a possibly broken ankle, stands against the wall to stay as Subject Zero looks through the window wondering how he could lose his only entertainment so easily. Subject Zero eventually angrily wanders off as he cusses at himself. Nathan takes that as his cue to stumble his way into the nearby forest.
Nathan manages to make it a decent distance into the forest before stumbling and falling next to a large oak tree. Expecting to be free from danger for at least a while, he relaxes against the tree and closes his eyes. Far too early for assumptions, he hears something and quickly opens his eyes to see Subject Zero’s fist unexpectedly rushing to his face, resulting in a knockout.
After a while, Nathan cracks his eyes open, barely able to see. He looks around in a trance until he hears a familiar voice.
“Hey, Nate! Nate! Wake the fuck up! I’m not dead!”
Nathan fully comes to and looks over to see an upside down Charlie. Confused, he looks at Charlie unsure of what to say. Eventually he speaks.
“What the fuck…? Why the hell are you upside down?”
Charlie points to Nathan’s feet, revealing he is in fact, the one upside down hanging by his feet.
“Oh, fuck… WHAT THE FUCK?!? Get me down, you asshole!”
Charlie unties the rope, leading to Nathan falling on his head. Rubbing his head, Nathan gets up with ease, which leads him to wonder why there’s no pain in his ankle. He quickly shrugs it off and looks back at Charlie as he finally realizes the situation.
“Wait a damn minute, how the hell are you alive? I saw you get beaten to a pulp.”
“Yeahhhh… Well, first off, thanks for leaving me, but I’ll tell you everything I know, just as they did for me.”
Charlie points over to a small crowd of people waiting behind the dark shadows of the room. With a short, yet detailed, briefing, he tells Nathan that these people are all the missing people they’ve been reporting about. They all have been curious people who have wandered into the facility but inevitably became a morbid science experiment by Subject Zero. Charlie continues on to tell Nathan that every single one of these people have been injected with a similar serum as Subject Zero but each one is a slightly altered version.
“So, let me get this straight… These people have all been injected with the same damn insanity poison as that madman and there’s absolutely no telling who could lose it and kill us with FUCKING TELEKINISIS!”
“Yeah, pretty much. But I’ve been told that Subject Zero murders every failed attempt before they hurt any of his other precious test subjects. So far, all he’s done is prolong the insanity effects.”
“Charlie, we have to somehow get the fuck out of here.”
“We can’t. Do you not understand what I just said?”
“Look, I get that these people are innocent but they’re obviously going to be massive dangers to humanity. We can get out of here. I don’t know how but… Somehow!”
“Nate! I can’t get out of here.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Charlie raises up his arm and reveals a small pinprick of a needle in his skin.
“Charlie, what is that? No… Wait, you were injected too?”
“Yeah.”
“FUCK!”
“Look, as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t been injected. There’s no needle mark in your skin. YOU could actually get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving you behind again, Charlie! It was a nightmare seeing what they did to you the first time.”
“Nathan, I -”
Suddenly and very unexpectedly, one of the people in the crowd begins to scream from within the shadows. Nathan, confused and afraid, looks over at the man losing his sanity. Within seconds, the man stops screaming as the entire room falls into a deafening silence. The man looks in Nathan’s direction and shines a demonic grin with a stare that could pierce the soul of any mortal man.
Knowing the man is coming toward him, Nathan slowly starts backing up against the cold concrete walls. The man, with all new senses, uses his new telekinetic ability to push others from the crowd aside. Charlie, being brave for the first and possibly final time in his life, attempts to stand in the way but is quickly subdued as he’s flung against the wall. Finally reaching Nathan, the man brings his gaze into a full on stare into Nathan’s soul. For Nathan, it’s as if death has come for him. Suddenly, the man’s gaze is ripped away by a familiar face of evil. Subject Zero heard the screams and came to claim his failed experiment.
This led to an all-out brawl between the two men. Anyone would describe it in the same way you would if two rabid dogs were fighting over food. One dog gets up after being ripped open and the other gets its face gashed by a hard hitting blow, yet they still fight. Only difference between the two, one is just a dog wanting its food and the other is trained to kill. Suddenly, with a vicious blow, Subject Zero wins the fight when he takes the man’s head and slams it so hard into the concrete floor that his skull cracks open causing blood, brains, and skull fragments to fly over the silent crowd.
With one final glance, Subject Zero looks over the entire crowd. He ends his gaze by making sure Nathan is the last to see his devilish eyes. Soon after, he leaves the room and locks the door. Nathan stares at the corpse lying on the ground with a look of pure terror and proceeds to collapse onto the floor while holding back tears.
The small concrete room soon fills with despair as everyone watches the tears of pain and fear run down Nathan’s face. Charlie tries to make his long-time friend feel a little more hopeful, although he soon gives up as well until he has a moment of realization. He remembers back to when they first were searching for information he had found an article with some intriguing details.
“Okay, so, there may be some hope after all.”
“Charlie, what hope is there? Huh?! You’re pretty much fucked and I don’t exactly see a way out of here.”
“One of the articles back at the house we were in said something about a self-destruct button. That’s also how you open the main doors. Apparently, no one ever bothered, or I guess, never got the chance to hit the self-destruct timer and run their asses to the door. What if we- I mean, YOU could actually do that?”
“Charlie, I already told you I don’t want to leave you behind.”
“GOD DAMN IT, NATHAN! I know… FUCK! I know. But I want you to survive. Can’t you just listen to me for once?! I would follow you through hell and back and it kind of feels that way right now. So? Can you just listen to what I want you to do for once while I’m practically on my deathbed?!”
“Okay! Okay…”
Suddenly, an unexpected chance of escape arrives at their feet. Subject Zero and a few of his mannequins walk in to remove the mutilated corpse from the room. Unexpectedly, one of the people in the crowd begins to scream out in pain just like the other man did moments ago before his demise. “Oh, great…” Subject Zero says irritated. Soon after, multiple others begin to scream out in pain until eventually the entire crowd follows suit. Nathan, and somehow Charlie have not been affected. The room quickly becomes engulfed in a hurricane of insanity. This leads Subject Zero and the mannequins to getting distracted by the madness and accidentally leaves the door open. Subject Zero quickly gets attacked by everyone in the room but he holds his ground firmly. Nathan knows this is the perfect chance to escape and signals Charlie to come with him. Charlie hesitantly comes along but right as they reach the door Nathan turns to hear the sounds of Charlie going through the worst pain of his life.
Nathan looks in confusion but quickly realizes he’s about to have to accept his friend’s fate. Nathan refuses to accept it, but he knows he needs to. Charlie suddenly lunges at Nathan and uses his last act of sanity and control to push him out the door.
“Get. To the button. Please.”
“Charlie, I- I’m-”
“I’m sorry…”
Charlie finally snaps and is engulfed in pure raging insanity. He lunges at Nathan but before he reaches him, Nathan, with teary eyes, slams the door onto his friend, turns, and begins running out into the seemingly vast wilderness. As he runs, Nathan hears the cries of a dozen men and women as they get ripped apart. Knowing that among them is his best friend, Nathan begins to cry as he continues to run away from his previous hell.
This is where the man in the tube, now known as Nathan White, stops due to bringing up too many memories. He's willing to finish his story with me but only if I get this part out to the world. If enough people care about his story, then he will finish it. Otherwise, he will give in to his new life in a tube. I'm far too curious to give up on his story so I hope people will care. For now, goodbye.
PART 2:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1d8czbv/im_a_scientist_and_a_man_in_a_tube_is_telling_me/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

I love my dog; he's an incredibly excitable border collie cross I brought home from an animal rescue centre about 2 years ago and we've been pretty inseparable since. Living alone, it was nice to have the company and it felt like I was doing my bit by rehoming an animal in need, we saved each other really, as it was hard not to feel isolated at times until he came into my life.
Monty and I lived on the outskirts of a rural town, so we didn't have regular visitors, and to be honest, I wasn't really a "social butterfly" so tended to keep to myself, with the exception of travelling to the local supermarket with Monty in tow to grab some household supplies.
I had family of course, but as you get older, you tend to lose touch with people and I was so used to my own company, until Monty came along, that I stopped reaching out and eventually, they stopped too. It's not like we fell out, I just wasn't the best at socialising, and we slowly drifted apart.
Like I said, me and Monty really did save each other as with him by my side, I felt like I had everything I needed to get by in life.
He did have one, slightly annoying quirk though, he absolutely loved to dig holes. They say that's the risk of getting a rescue though, as you don't know their background, you also don't know if they learned any unusual behaviours and whilst it wasn't too weird for a dog to dig holes, Monty was always digging at something in our garden whenever he was let out.
Two years in I'd gotten used to the routine though, let him out in the morning to do his business, fill the hole with a shovel I kept near the back door, get on with the rest of my day. He would usually manage to dig multiple times a day, so it had become a regular occurrence, and at least it helped him burn off some energy.
It wasn't until last week when things started to get a little weird...
Monday started off pretty normal, got up, let Monty out, filled the hole, logged on to my computer and did some work, let Monty out, filled another hole. I ate lunch, went back to work, finished at around six o'clock, had some food, let Monty out, filled a hole, scrolled mindlessly through social media before letting Monty out for his last toilet visit before bed. Filled another hole back up then settled down for sleep.
Tuesday was different, as when I got up to let Monty out, I noticed what looked like another hole at the back of the garden. I could have sworn I filled all the holes Monty had excavated yesterday but maybe I missed one...I shrugged it off and went to grab the shovel, my bleary eyes beginning to adjust to the early morning sun, and walked over to begin the daily ritual of filling in the hole. It was only when I got closer, I noticed how deep the hole actually was. I rubbed my eyes, encouraging them to focus as I glanced down at what appeared to be a hole around two feet wide, but looked to be at least six feet deep. I stared at Monty in disbelief, who stared back up with his usual mischievous face, tongue lolling out to the side of his mouth and tail wagging enthusiastically. If I didn't know better, I'd say he almost looked proud of his most recent creation.
I grabbed my phone and messaged my boss, letting her know I'd be logging on slightly later but would make up the time, grabbed my shovel, and went to work filling in Monty's most ambitious creation yet...
Work was slow, but I made up for the extra hour I lost to filling the hole back in. Monty had been particularly excitable throughout the day, so I let him out in the afternoon to burn off the energy and give me the chance to concentrate on my work. In hindsight, not my smartest move, as the menace started digging again and had a whole afternoon to work on his next masterpiece...
Four foot wide, eight foot deep. Honestly at this point, I was kind of impressed at his dedication, as it was very rare he dug up the same spot. Again, he watched, tail wagging, tongue flopped from his muddy mouth as I spent most of my evening shovelling the mud back into the small crater he made.
It was around nine o'clock when the exhaustion hit me, my stomach growled, and I realised I had been shovelling for so long I had completely missed a meal and missed feeding Monty. Oddly though, he didn't seem to be making a fuss about the lack of a meal, instead he was entranced by the progress I had made. There looked to be a few feet left to fill, but I was mentally done, and retreated inside to have a quick snack and feed Monty before collapsing into bed.
I awoke with a start at ten o'clock Wednesday morning. Although I had overslept, I still felt tired and sore from my unexpected workout the prior evening. Reaching for my phone I saw several missed calls from my Boss and messages asking why I hadn't logged on yet. I was too embarrassed to admit I overslept due to filling a hole my dog had made, and instead messaged back apologising repeatedly, whilst informing her I had come down with a nasty stomach bug and wouldn't be logging on. Satisfied with the deception, she wished me a speedy recovery and I put my phone back down, sighing with relief that I had evaded getting myself into any further trouble.
It was only after this I noticed Monty wasn't waiting by his bed or giving me a stern telling off for missing his breakfast…
Sixteen foot wide, twenty foot deep. I hadn't realised in my exhaustion from the previous night I had forgot to close the garden door, and Monty had obviously taken offence to me filling in his most recent work of art. I called out his name but received no response, a knot of unease started to form in my stomach as my mind began to run through the many fates that could have fell upon him. I went back inside and turned the house upside down, checking every possible nook and cranny he may have decided to hide in but to no avail. I went looking around the garden, checking the fenced border to see if there were any signs he had managed to dig himself an escape route into the forested area nearby, but there was no evidence of any attempt to escape.
The only conclusion I could make was he was in the hole. I had guessed about twenty foot deep, but I didn't actually climb in to verify as I had no real means to get myself back out if it turned out my assumption was wrong. I tried calling out his name, desperately attempting to keep my voice as neutral as possible to hide the anxiety bubbling under the surface, but there was nothing in return, no bark, no whimper, just silence as I stared down into the darkness below...
I did next what I thought was most logical at the time, I called for help. I dialled 911 and explained my unusual situation to the operator who was trying and failing to hide their amusement at such a strange request. They did however forward me to the local fire department who suggested I contact a construction firm nearby who could determine if the hole was safe to go down, save Monty, and then fill it back up.
I called the construction firm and explained everything, much to the bemusement of the person who took the call. They did say they could send a surveyor around in the afternoon to take a look and provide me with a quote. It was at this stage I realised that this wasn't going to be done out of generosity and regretfully asked how much such a service could cost, "Depending on how deep the hole is, and how long it takes to fill, it could cost a couple of thousand, but we will be able to give you a more accurate quote once the surveyor has inspected the area" My heart sank, I fortunately did have a bit of money set aside however, it was clear this would wipe out my savings and take a credit card with it, but I was determined to save my furry companion.
I agreed to the appointment and after the call messaged my boss to request some additional time off covering the rest of the week due to "family matters I needed to urgently resolve". I got the green light and did another round of searching the house for Monty before the surveyor was due to arrive.
The surveyors' van pulled up just after midday and a portly, middle-aged man dressed in a tight-fitting suit, with an even tighter hi-vis, emerged from the vehicle with a surprisingly sprightly step and a smile on his face "Good afternoon, my name’s Rick from MC Construction. I believe I've got you booked in to survey a sinkhole today?" I nodded, taken aback by his warmth, and stumbled over my words "And a dog. My dog. To see if you can rescue my dog. Monty" Rick nodded and quickly returned to his van, opening the door to grab a clipboard and pen. He riffled through some pages attached, and looked back up "Ah, ok yep, I see on the notes you believe your dog may have dug up the sinkhole?" I could see his expression change to one of curiosity, likely trying to figure out if I had a screw loose, but it quickly faded back to his warm demeanour when I nodded and told him the hole was out back.
He followed me into the house as we made our way to the garden, glancing with raised eyebrows at the chaos of strewn cushions and displaced shelving throughout the home. I realised at this point I had made no effort to tidy back up after my original search attempt for Monty and apologised for the mess, explaining I had been looking for my dog around the home before he arrived. He nodded understandingly, and we entered the garden making our way towards the hole.
Rick approached carefully, ironically something I had absent mindedly not even considered until this point, and peered down into the dark below, "And you said this is around twenty feet deep?" he appeared concerned as he looked over the edge into the darkness below "Feels like it may be a bit deeper than that but I have some tools in my van to do some testing" He turned on a pivot and headed back to his van whilst I stood staring down in the void below, my eyes unable to adjust to the darkness and a growing sense of discomfort beginning to swell within.
I was suddenly brought back to the present by Rick placing some stakes and tools on the ground nearby, making a clattering of metal clanging together "I'll need to do some measurements and confirm the sinkhole doesn't present any further risk to your property before we can commence any work, but it should only take me an hour or so, it may be worth you grabbing a coffee and some lunch" He smiled cheerfully as he started to organise his pile of tools, setting aside his clipboard, which I saw had an itemised list of tasks he needed to do. I offered Rick a drink and was met with a cheery decline, so left him to get on with things, whilst I went to tidy up the chaos I had left earlier.
A couple of hours passed, and after tidying up and getting some much-needed fuel in the form of coffee and a bagel, I went out to see how Rick was getting along. He was nowhere to be seen. His tools were still there, and some stakes had been stuck in the ground connected by hazard tape, so I went to check out front to see if he had simply gone back to his van to get something, but when I got there his van was still locked up on the drive.
It was like he had up and vanished, I called out his name and walked back to the garden but heard no response, a singular thought then jolted into my mind, what if he has fallen in? I ran back over to the hole and looked down, careful with my footing to not accidentally end up in there myself, and shouted down into the dark abyss, "RIIIIICCCKKKK?" nothing. No response, not even an echo, just resounding silence.
I frantically dialled the construction company and managed to stumble out the right words to convince them of the gravity of the situation. They calmed me down, and explained they would send two of their crew out with the necessary tools to investigate further and they would also ring Rick's personal and work number to see if they could reach him.
With the panic starting to subside, I went back inside and collapsed on the sofa, my mind racing with multiple possible explanations as to Rick’s fate, but my body drained from a cocktail of adrenaline and exhaustion from the day before.
I awoke abruptly a few hours later to banging against my front door "IS ANYONE IN THERE?!.... HELLLOOO?" I bolted from the sofa and answered the door to find two fully hi-vis clad men stood before me "Sorry for the shouting we were worried no one was home, we both work at MC Construction we've come to check if Rick is here?" I apologised for my delay to answering the door then relayed my interactions with Rick during the day's events.
"So, you last saw Rick setting up to work near the sinkhole?" one of the men asked whilst the other started writing down notes, I nodded in return "And you didn't see him physically go into the sinkhole?" I shook my head in response, my attention caught by the furious scribbling from his colleague.
"Ok, we'll bring some lighting equipment and some tools through and see if we can figure out what's going on" The man who I now assumed was the one in charge stated, "Hopefully he has just been distracted elsewhere, but worst-case scenario we'll have him out and safe soon enough".
The next few hours all went by in a bit of a blur, but the men got to work, hastily scurrying back and forth between their van and the sinkhole as daylight started to slowly ebb away in the sky. Large industrial lights on stands were setup and I could see both men starting to clamber into harnesses and other protective equipment, whilst I stood and watched from the kitchen window. At no point did they mention Monty, which at the time I could appreciate the focus would be on another human being versus a dog, but he was my best friend and I wanted to make sure I was around to remind them and Rick he also needed to be rescued.
I was snapped out of my train of thought by my phone ringing in the living room. I walked over to answer it and spotted it was my boss on the caller ID. She had approved my time off for the remainder of the week, so it was unusual for her to call, especially in the evening, so I answered in case it was an emergency.
It turns out she just wanted to check-in, as she was worried, I had gone from feeling sick to needing time off to sort out family issues, so she wanted to make sure I wasn't taking too much on. I wondered if there was any ulterior motive but reassured her things weren't too bad and I just needed a few days but should be back up and running next week. She wished me well and offered her support if I needed which I politely thanked her for and ended the call.
Heading back to the kitchen, I noticed the general hustle and bustle of activity in the garden had stopped and looked out the window to see the men had disappeared, but their tools were still on the floor, bathed in light from the portable lighting they had brought. My mind immediately jumped to the conclusion they had met the same fate as Rick, and I sprinted outside the door.
They were gone...nowhere...vanished...I checked their van...shouted out. Nothing…just silence. I tried to call the construction company but hit their out of hours voicemail service. I then decided to call emergency services again, but in the moment my panic induced mind failed me, and I fumbled my words, which confused the operator who asked for more info, but I didn't even know their names...
Feeling disheartened by my failed attempt to call for back-up but still determined, I decided to take matters into my own hands and walked over to the sinkhole. I grabbed one of the industrial lights and awkwardly moved the surprisingly weighty frame, so the light was facing down into the sinkhole to see if I could spot anything below.
Darkness…Pure…Pitch black…darkness...
The light just seemed to be absorbed by the hole, save for the walls but the bottom wasn't remotely visible. I strained my eyes, desperately trying to focus and cut through the darkness for what felt like an eternity, when I finally caught a small glimmer of light being reflected up from the depths.
It was then I remembered both the men and Rick had been wearing hi-vis clothing and scrambled back to the pile of tools. I found some rope and tied it to the best of my ability to one of the stakes Rick had put in the ground earlier, hoping it would be a suitable anchor. I grabbed a smaller portable light from the pile, tied it to the other end of the rope and switched it on. I leaned over the edge with rope in hand, light gently swaying back and forth, and started to slowly lower the rope into the hole.
Light bounced off the walls as the rope was lowered but it never appeared to reach the bottom of the hole. Eventually, I run out of length and carefully laid the rope down on the floor. Staring down at the portable light, now a small beacon flickering in the abyss, I could almost feel the void wanting to pull me in, my eyes and body drawn to the small light, like a moth to a flame.
I wrenched myself away from the edge and sat down near my makeshift anchor, my body shaking with adrenaline and mind rattled by how things had escalated so quickly in such a short space of time. As night fell across the sky, I ungracefully managed to move a couple more lights to blanket the opening of the hole in light, hoping Monty, Rick and the other two men could work their way back up to the light from the darkness below.
My eyelids grew heavy, but I was determined to stay focused on the opening, just in case the rope became taught, and I was needed to help pull anyone up. After a while, my body began to fail me, and I was overcome with tiredness and could no longer maintain my upright position. I lay on the ground facing the hole as my eyes started to close.
Sixteen-foot wide, unknown feet deep. I was startled awake by a rustling close by. Adrenaline surged into my body, and I was flooded with a range of emotions, anxiety, fear, hope. I looked towards the hole, my eyes adjusting to the brightness of the industrial lights against the pitch black and saw the source. A rabbit gently hopping through the tall grass near the perimeter of the hole. I remained silent and still, observing as the rabbit seemed to be drawn to the opening of the sinkhole. It slowly approached as if in a trance, but before I could make a sound to try and scare it away, it flopped to the side, and fell into the hole.
The next sounds I heard were a shrill high-pitched squeal, which sent a shiver down my spine, followed by a nauseating crunch. My heart wanted to leap out of my chest and every fibre of my being was telling something was wrong, but I felt compelled to see what had happened. As I stood, I felt the ground rumble beneath me, subtle at first, like small vibrations, but as I walked closer to the hole it felt stronger, more violent. Fear was rising through my body in anticipation of what could be awaiting me at the opening, but I also was clinging on to the hope the vibrations were the construction crew with Monty clambering up the walls of the hole.
When I reached the opening, I looked down into the darkness and could just about spot something in the hole passing by the dangling light, but before I see more detail the hole was suddenly plunged into darkness again. I turned towards the makeshift anchor and saw the rope had become taught around the stake, under strain from some force down below. I scrambled to the other industrial lights rotating them to shine on the rope to try and see who was climbing back up as the rumbling in the ground began to grow.
The longer I was staring into the darkness, the stronger the compulsion to go into hole felt. I could feel my body physically swaying as the unease and fear continued to hit me in waves. Despite this, I remained stood next to the rope ready to haul it up once I could see signs of life, I needed to be there for Monty as he was for me.
I began to see a larger shape moving in the darkness below and the hi-vis glimmered once again under the industrial lights. They were making their way back up! I called down to Rick and the crew but was met with a gurgling groan in response, the shadowy shape continued its ascent up the hole.
Once the light reached it, I retched. The shape, it wasn’t human, at least not anymore. It was an amalgamation of flesh and bone protruding from too many limbs. There were clumps of varying coloured fur, next to teeth and claws sticking out of its back, with exposed muscle and strands of sinews between its clawed limbs. There appeared to be scraps of hi-vis clothing and a tattered suit dangling from the many limbs and its face…It’s face was a horrid, fanged maw, with several rows of teeth and multiple mismatched eyes glistening with blood and saliva under the lights.
It clawed its way closer and the compulsion to join it in the pit overwhelmed me, my mind was shattered, my will was broken. I leaned forward, falling into the dark abyss, and as the creature reached out for me, I caught a glimpse of the object which reflected the light earlier, stuck in its side. A small metal tag engraved with one word… MONTY.
At least now we’ll be reunited…

I love my dog; he's an incredibly excitable border collie cross I brought home from an animal rescue centre about 2 years ago and we've been pretty inseparable since. Living alone, it was nice to have the company and it felt like I was doing my bit by rehoming an animal in need, we saved each other really, as it was hard not to feel isolated at times until he came into my life.
Monty and I lived on the outskirts of a rural town, so we didn't have regular visitors, and to be honest, I wasn't really a "social butterfly" so tended to keep to myself, with the exception of travelling to the local supermarket with Monty in tow to grab some household supplies.
I had family of course, but as you get older, you tend to lose touch with people and I was so used to my own company, until Monty came along, that I stopped reaching out and eventually, they stopped too. It's not like we fell out, I just wasn't the best at socialising, and we slowly drifted apart.
Like I said, me and Monty really did save each other as with him by my side, I felt like I had everything I needed to get by in life.
He did have one, slightly annoying quirk though, he absolutely loved to dig holes. They say that's the risk of getting a rescue though, as you don't know their background, you also don't know if they learned any unusual behaviours and whilst it wasn't too weird for a dog to dig holes, Monty was always digging at something in our garden whenever he was let out.
Two years in I'd gotten used to the routine though, let him out in the morning to do his business, fill the hole with a shovel I kept near the back door, get on with the rest of my day. He would usually manage to dig multiple times a day, so it had become a regular occurrence, and at least it helped him burn off some energy.
It wasn't until last week when things started to get a little weird...
Monday started off pretty normal, got up, let Monty out, filled the hole, logged on to my computer and did some work, let Monty out, filled another hole. I ate lunch, went back to work, finished at around six o'clock, had some food, let Monty out, filled a hole, scrolled mindlessly through social media before letting Monty out for his last toilet visit before bed. Filled another hole back up then settled down for sleep.
Tuesday was different, as when I got up to let Monty out, I noticed what looked like another hole at the back of the garden. I could have sworn I filled all the holes Monty had excavated yesterday but maybe I missed one...I shrugged it off and went to grab the shovel, my bleary eyes beginning to adjust to the early morning sun, and walked over to begin the daily ritual of filling in the hole. It was only when I got closer, I noticed how deep the hole actually was. I rubbed my eyes, encouraging them to focus as I glanced down at what appeared to be a hole around two feet wide, but looked to be at least six feet deep. I stared at Monty in disbelief, who stared back up with his usual mischievous face, tongue lolling out to the side of his mouth and tail wagging enthusiastically. If I didn't know better, I'd say he almost looked proud of his most recent creation.
I grabbed my phone and messaged my boss, letting her know I'd be logging on slightly later but would make up the time, grabbed my shovel, and went to work filling in Monty's most ambitious creation yet...
Work was slow, but I made up for the extra hour I lost to filling the hole back in. Monty had been particularly excitable throughout the day, so I let him out in the afternoon to burn off the energy and give me the chance to concentrate on my work. In hindsight, not my smartest move, as the menace started digging again and had a whole afternoon to work on his next masterpiece...
Four foot wide, eight foot deep. Honestly at this point, I was kind of impressed at his dedication, as it was very rare he dug up the same spot. Again, he watched, tail wagging, tongue flopped from his muddy mouth as I spent most of my evening shovelling the mud back into the small crater he made.
It was around nine o'clock when the exhaustion hit me, my stomach growled, and I realised I had been shovelling for so long I had completely missed a meal and missed feeding Monty. Oddly though, he didn't seem to be making a fuss about the lack of a meal, instead he was entranced by the progress I had made. There looked to be a few feet left to fill, but I was mentally done, and retreated inside to have a quick snack and feed Monty before collapsing into bed.
I awoke with a start at ten o'clock Wednesday morning. Although I had overslept, I still felt tired and sore from my unexpected workout the prior evening. Reaching for my phone I saw several missed calls from my Boss and messages asking why I hadn't logged on yet. I was too embarrassed to admit I overslept due to filling a hole my dog had made, and instead messaged back apologising repeatedly, whilst informing her I had come down with a nasty stomach bug and wouldn't be logging on. Satisfied with the deception, she wished me a speedy recovery and I put my phone back down, sighing with relief that I had evaded getting myself into any further trouble.
It was only after this I noticed Monty wasn't waiting by his bed or giving me a stern telling off for missing his breakfast…
Sixteen foot wide, twenty foot deep. I hadn't realised in my exhaustion from the previous night I had forgot to close the garden door, and Monty had obviously taken offence to me filling in his most recent work of art. I called out his name but received no response, a knot of unease started to form in my stomach as my mind began to run through the many fates that could have fell upon him. I went back inside and turned the house upside down, checking every possible nook and cranny he may have decided to hide in but to no avail. I went looking around the garden, checking the fenced border to see if there were any signs he had managed to dig himself an escape route into the forested area nearby, but there was no evidence of any attempt to escape.
The only conclusion I could make was he was in the hole. I had guessed about twenty foot deep, but I didn't actually climb in to verify as I had no real means to get myself back out if it turned out my assumption was wrong. I tried calling out his name, desperately attempting to keep my voice as neutral as possible to hide the anxiety bubbling under the surface, but there was nothing in return, no bark, no whimper, just silence as I stared down into the darkness below...
I did next what I thought was most logical at the time, I called for help. I dialled 911 and explained my unusual situation to the operator who was trying and failing to hide their amusement at such a strange request. They did however forward me to the local fire department who suggested I contact a construction firm nearby who could determine if the hole was safe to go down, save Monty, and then fill it back up.
I called the construction firm and explained everything, much to the bemusement of the person who took the call. They did say they could send a surveyor around in the afternoon to take a look and provide me with a quote. It was at this stage I realised that this wasn't going to be done out of generosity and regretfully asked how much such a service could cost, "Depending on how deep the hole is, and how long it takes to fill, it could cost a couple of thousand, but we will be able to give you a more accurate quote once the surveyor has inspected the area" My heart sank, I fortunately did have a bit of money set aside however, it was clear this would wipe out my savings and take a credit card with it, but I was determined to save my furry companion.
I agreed to the appointment and after the call messaged my boss to request some additional time off covering the rest of the week due to "family matters I needed to urgently resolve". I got the green light and did another round of searching the house for Monty before the surveyor was due to arrive.
The surveyors' van pulled up just after midday and a portly, middle-aged man dressed in a tight-fitting suit, with an even tighter hi-vis, emerged from the vehicle with a surprisingly sprightly step and a smile on his face "Good afternoon, my name’s Rick from MC Construction. I believe I've got you booked in to survey a sinkhole today?" I nodded, taken aback by his warmth, and stumbled over my words "And a dog. My dog. To see if you can rescue my dog. Monty" Rick nodded and quickly returned to his van, opening the door to grab a clipboard and pen. He riffled through some pages attached, and looked back up "Ah, ok yep, I see on the notes you believe your dog may have dug up the sinkhole?" I could see his expression change to one of curiosity, likely trying to figure out if I had a screw loose, but it quickly faded back to his warm demeanour when I nodded and told him the hole was out back.
He followed me into the house as we made our way to the garden, glancing with raised eyebrows at the chaos of strewn cushions and displaced shelving throughout the home. I realised at this point I had made no effort to tidy back up after my original search attempt for Monty and apologised for the mess, explaining I had been looking for my dog around the home before he arrived. He nodded understandingly, and we entered the garden making our way towards the hole.
Rick approached carefully, ironically something I had absent mindedly not even considered until this point, and peered down into the dark below, "And you said this is around twenty feet deep?" he appeared concerned as he looked over the edge into the darkness below "Feels like it may be a bit deeper than that but I have some tools in my van to do some testing" He turned on a pivot and headed back to his van whilst I stood staring down in the void below, my eyes unable to adjust to the darkness and a growing sense of discomfort beginning to swell within.
I was suddenly brought back to the present by Rick placing some stakes and tools on the ground nearby, making a clattering of metal clanging together "I'll need to do some measurements and confirm the sinkhole doesn't present any further risk to your property before we can commence any work, but it should only take me an hour or so, it may be worth you grabbing a coffee and some lunch" He smiled cheerfully as he started to organise his pile of tools, setting aside his clipboard, which I saw had an itemised list of tasks he needed to do. I offered Rick a drink and was met with a cheery decline, so left him to get on with things, whilst I went to tidy up the chaos I had left earlier.
A couple of hours passed, and after tidying up and getting some much-needed fuel in the form of coffee and a bagel, I went out to see how Rick was getting along. He was nowhere to be seen. His tools were still there, and some stakes had been stuck in the ground connected by hazard tape, so I went to check out front to see if he had simply gone back to his van to get something, but when I got there his van was still locked up on the drive.
It was like he had up and vanished, I called out his name and walked back to the garden but heard no response, a singular thought then jolted into my mind, what if he has fallen in? I ran back over to the hole and looked down, careful with my footing to not accidentally end up in there myself, and shouted down into the dark abyss, "RIIIIICCCKKKK?" nothing. No response, not even an echo, just resounding silence.
I frantically dialled the construction company and managed to stumble out the right words to convince them of the gravity of the situation. They calmed me down, and explained they would send two of their crew out with the necessary tools to investigate further and they would also ring Rick's personal and work number to see if they could reach him.
With the panic starting to subside, I went back inside and collapsed on the sofa, my mind racing with multiple possible explanations as to Rick’s fate, but my body drained from a cocktail of adrenaline and exhaustion from the day before.
I awoke abruptly a few hours later to banging against my front door "IS ANYONE IN THERE?!.... HELLLOOO?" I bolted from the sofa and answered the door to find two fully hi-vis clad men stood before me "Sorry for the shouting we were worried no one was home, we both work at MC Construction we've come to check if Rick is here?" I apologised for my delay to answering the door then relayed my interactions with Rick during the day's events.
"So, you last saw Rick setting up to work near the sinkhole?" one of the men asked whilst the other started writing down notes, I nodded in return "And you didn't see him physically go into the sinkhole?" I shook my head in response, my attention caught by the furious scribbling from his colleague.
"Ok, we'll bring some lighting equipment and some tools through and see if we can figure out what's going on" The man who I now assumed was the one in charge stated, "Hopefully he has just been distracted elsewhere, but worst-case scenario we'll have him out and safe soon enough".
The next few hours all went by in a bit of a blur, but the men got to work, hastily scurrying back and forth between their van and the sinkhole as daylight started to slowly ebb away in the sky. Large industrial lights on stands were setup and I could see both men starting to clamber into harnesses and other protective equipment, whilst I stood and watched from the kitchen window. At no point did they mention Monty, which at the time I could appreciate the focus would be on another human being versus a dog, but he was my best friend and I wanted to make sure I was around to remind them and Rick he also needed to be rescued.
I was snapped out of my train of thought by my phone ringing in the living room. I walked over to answer it and spotted it was my boss on the caller ID. She had approved my time off for the remainder of the week, so it was unusual for her to call, especially in the evening, so I answered in case it was an emergency.
It turns out she just wanted to check-in, as she was worried, I had gone from feeling sick to needing time off to sort out family issues, so she wanted to make sure I wasn't taking too much on. I wondered if there was any ulterior motive but reassured her things weren't too bad and I just needed a few days but should be back up and running next week. She wished me well and offered her support if I needed which I politely thanked her for and ended the call.
Heading back to the kitchen, I noticed the general hustle and bustle of activity in the garden had stopped and looked out the window to see the men had disappeared, but their tools were still on the floor, bathed in light from the portable lighting they had brought. My mind immediately jumped to the conclusion they had met the same fate as Rick, and I sprinted outside the door.
They were gone...nowhere...vanished...I checked their van...shouted out. Nothing…just silence. I tried to call the construction company but hit their out of hours voicemail service. I then decided to call emergency services again, but in the moment my panic induced mind failed me, and I fumbled my words, which confused the operator who asked for more info, but I didn't even know their names...
Feeling disheartened by my failed attempt to call for back-up but still determined, I decided to take matters into my own hands and walked over to the sinkhole. I grabbed one of the industrial lights and awkwardly moved the surprisingly weighty frame, so the light was facing down into the sinkhole to see if I could spot anything below.
Darkness…Pure…Pitch black…darkness...
The light just seemed to be absorbed by the hole, save for the walls but the bottom wasn't remotely visible. I strained my eyes, desperately trying to focus and cut through the darkness for what felt like an eternity, when I finally caught a small glimmer of light being reflected up from the depths.
It was then I remembered both the men and Rick had been wearing hi-vis clothing and scrambled back to the pile of tools. I found some rope and tied it to the best of my ability to one of the stakes Rick had put in the ground earlier, hoping it would be a suitable anchor. I grabbed a smaller portable light from the pile, tied it to the other end of the rope and switched it on. I leaned over the edge with rope in hand, light gently swaying back and forth, and started to slowly lower the rope into the hole.
Light bounced off the walls as the rope was lowered but it never appeared to reach the bottom of the hole. Eventually, I run out of length and carefully laid the rope down on the floor. Staring down at the portable light, now a small beacon flickering in the abyss, I could almost feel the void wanting to pull me in, my eyes and body drawn to the small light, like a moth to a flame.
I wrenched myself away from the edge and sat down near my makeshift anchor, my body shaking with adrenaline and mind rattled by how things had escalated so quickly in such a short space of time. As night fell across the sky, I ungracefully managed to move a couple more lights to blanket the opening of the hole in light, hoping Monty, Rick and the other two men could work their way back up to the light from the darkness below.
My eyelids grew heavy, but I was determined to stay focused on the opening, just in case the rope became taught, and I was needed to help pull anyone up. After a while, my body began to fail me, and I was overcome with tiredness and could no longer maintain my upright position. I lay on the ground facing the hole as my eyes started to close.
Sixteen-foot wide, unknown feet deep. I was startled awake by a rustling close by. Adrenaline surged into my body, and I was flooded with a range of emotions, anxiety, fear, hope. I looked towards the hole, my eyes adjusting to the brightness of the industrial lights against the pitch black and saw the source. A rabbit gently hopping through the tall grass near the perimeter of the hole. I remained silent and still, observing as the rabbit seemed to be drawn to the opening of the sinkhole. It slowly approached as if in a trance, but before I could make a sound to try and scare it away, it flopped to the side, and fell into the hole.
The next sounds I heard were a shrill high-pitched squeal, which sent a shiver down my spine, followed by a nauseating crunch. My heart wanted to leap out of my chest and every fibre of my being was telling something was wrong, but I felt compelled to see what had happened. As I stood, I felt the ground rumble beneath me, subtle at first, like small vibrations, but as I walked closer to the hole it felt stronger, more violent. Fear was rising through my body in anticipation of what could be awaiting me at the opening, but I also was clinging on to the hope the vibrations were the construction crew with Monty clambering up the walls of the hole.
When I reached the opening, I looked down into the darkness and could just about spot something in the hole passing by the dangling light, but before I see more detail the hole was suddenly plunged into darkness again. I turned towards the makeshift anchor and saw the rope had become taught around the stake, under strain from some force down below. I scrambled to the other industrial lights rotating them to shine on the rope to try and see who was climbing back up as the rumbling in the ground began to grow.
The longer I was staring into the darkness, the stronger the compulsion to go into hole felt. I could feel my body physically swaying as the unease and fear continued to hit me in waves. Despite this, I remained stood next to the rope ready to haul it up once I could see signs of life, I needed to be there for Monty as he was for me.
I began to see a larger shape moving in the darkness below and the hi-vis glimmered once again under the industrial lights. They were making their way back up! I called down to Rick and the crew but was met with a gurgling groan in response, the shadowy shape continued its ascent up the hole.
Once the light reached it, I retched. The shape, it wasn’t human, at least not anymore. It was an amalgamation of flesh and bone protruding from too many limbs. There were clumps of varying coloured fur, next to teeth and claws sticking out of its back, with exposed muscle and strands of sinews between its clawed limbs. There appeared to be scraps of hi-vis clothing and a tattered suit dangling from the many limbs and its face…It’s face was a horrid, fanged maw, with several rows of teeth and multiple mismatched eyes glistening with blood and saliva under the lights.
It clawed its way closer and the compulsion to join it in the pit overwhelmed me, my mind was shattered, my will was broken. I leaned forward, falling into the dark abyss, and as the creature reached out for me, I caught a glimpse of the object which reflected the light earlier, stuck in its side. A small metal tag engraved with one word… MONTY.
At least now we’ll be reunited…