Does suboxone help with coughing

Anyone else have a baby with mild reflux? And that ‘mild’ reflux is still causing a lot of headache for you & baby?
My almost 8 week old daughter has shown reflux signs and symptoms since about 3 or 4 weeks old. It’s made feeding her a challenge nearly every day. She’s never been formally diagnosed by her pediatrician, but I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re dealing with. Thankfully, she’s gaining weight really well and has shot up to the 75th percentile compared to her 15th percentile just before a month old. Regardless, she will have these (occasional) projectile spit-ups/vomit that scare me to death because it just keeps pouring out. I would say these happen about 1x each week and the rest of the time it’s just small/normal spit ups. Actually, if we’re lucky, some days she doesn’t spit up at all.
Either way- she acts really fidgety and uncomfortable at times. She makes weird noises all the time. She grunts, strains, gurgles, and sounds like she’s clearing her throat. She sounds congested sometimes. She will randomly cough and sneeze quite often. We have to take frequent breaks during feeds because she’ll start acting like she’s uncomfortable mid-feed. She’s always been a “snacker” and will only eat little amounts at a time before she’s had enough.
She’s never had an issue sleeping on her back, though. In fact, sometimes she enjoys it. We do hold her upright for a bit after feeds but then she’s fine to be put down.
I’ve been eyeing her stools because I know dairy allergies can cause reflux to be worse. I’m not seeing any signs of that, however, I do think she has a sensitive tummy based on how much gas discomfort she has daily.
For those who have babies with reflux, what have you done to help them? Specifically ‘mild’ reflux that isn’t bad enough for medication. Do they eventually grow out of it? It does seem to make her more of a high-maintenance baby and I can’t help but wonder if there’s something we’re not doing that would solve this issue and make her more content.

The realization that having the final word may have been bitter-sweet had begun to dawn on Solon, as he sat on a low brick wall near a well at the center of the market. Clearly, people like Vur'z and Sheela, those that spoke English, were hard to come across. On top of the language barrier, the mercenary had another issue. Money. His world or this one, coins were words everyone knew. And he had none of those either.
He tried to hire a guide or ask for directions out of the desert, but the mouths of the villagers were as dry as his pockets. Roaming around the village, trying to avoid attention while pondering his next move, he noticed a good number of people going in and out of a small saloon styled building. The words written on the sign in front were unintelligible to Solon, but from his knowledge of this world, the chances of it being a guild or an adventurer agency of some sort were pretty high. Pushing the doors open, strolling into the main room with the stride of an Old Western gunslinger, Solon threw away any attempts of staying under the radar.
Every head turned to him, analyzing and studying the man that walked through the door, eyes lingering on his prosthetic left arm. The soldier walked over to what he had assumed was the main desk, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the beastfolk woman on the other side interrupted him.
"Igilin! Abatu, pa'ta marez lof." She spoke, he ears perking up and her tail moving around welcomingly. She was a jackal like creature, from what Solon could tell and her hyper behavior confirmed that.
Her voice was high pitched, assaulting the man’s ears with a relentless slew of words he could not understand. The speed of her talk took him down memory lane, reminding him of a toy phone he had a kid, one that made random noises when he'd press a button or say "I love you" at 10 times the speed.
The guild woman kept on talking, now pulling out charts and several guide books, pointing her clawed finger and flipping pages. Solon exhaled loudly, before giving her the thumbs up with his good hand and turning to leave, when something caught his eye. A bullet board on the other side of the room, covered all over with countless quest requests and offers. One paper stood out from the bunch. A large drawing of a beastfolk child, along with several scribbled under which was a nice coin offer. To the mercenary, it was common knowledge that two things were universal on any world. Bounty posters and missing people posters. And this one was of the latter.
He pulled the poster off the board, looking over it once more. The offer indeed was enough to entice any man, just by the number of zeros written on the page. Solon looked up at the sky as if thanking God for the intervention. He'd seed the person on the poster before, the screaming beastfolk boy that Vur'z was transporting in his caravan. Clearly whoever the boy was taken from would pay a pretty penny to have him back. Something did bother him about the situation however. With an offer so lucrative, the was no chance the poster would be left hung for that long without anyone taking on the bounty. Vur'z sons were strong young men, but they were far from an issue when it came to a group of adventurers. That odd suspicion was further solidified by all the stares the man felt drilling into his back. The guild patrols gave him dirty looks as he rolled up the poster and stuck it under his cloak, in his back pocket and went back out on the street to find Vur'z.
Solon wandered the village until sundown, until he finally stumbled across the resting spot for trade caravans. He was hungry and quite in a sour mood, walking over to the wagons without a word. Sedef spotted him first, sending his 3 brothers to go and fetch their father while he tried to deal with the mercenary.
"Solon! Nice seeing you again so soon." Sedef said, walking over to the man.
"Where's your old man Sedef?" Solon asked, walking past the guard.
"He went to fetch supplies from the market. Shouldn't be long before he's back." The young man replied. "Would you like to wait for him here?"
The young man felt uneasy, his own inability to simply tell the mercenary to piss off didn't sit well with him. He was the best hand to hand combatant in his little village, but even with that, Sedef knew that if he were to swing at the soldier, it would end badly. So he swallowed his pride and decided on a more friendly approach.
"Yeah, if you don't mind." Solon sat down, his stomach growling with hunger.
The two men sat in awkward silence for a while, before finally Vur'z appeared around the corner. "Ah, Solon. I see Lady Sheela is not with you. What can I do you for?" Spoke the slaver.
With his mechanical arm, the soldier pulled out the poster and showed it to Vur'z. The other one seemed oddly relieved. "Oh, you're here for that? Sad to say I already handed him over."
Solon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "So, where is it?"
"Come have dinner with us. If you're serious about getting the kid, you'll need some info about where he's been taken and by who first." Vur'z patted the man on the back, inviting him to the wagon.
***
"What's the situation?"
The elven scout turned around swiftly, almost jumping out of his own skin from fright. "My Lady." He placed his hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. "I beg of you, do not sneak up on me that way."
General Eirlys hid a smile, before focusing her eyes towards the squad of invaders walking through the woods, setting up a defense perimeter. The Vatur kingdom has been struggling with containing the invading humans, especially when it came to portal control. Having multiple wild portal gates just outside the borders of the elven forest made it very hard to prevent humans from breaching from the other side. Countless skirmishes had broken out since the humans first captured the largest portal and make it their outposts. The Iron Fortress that blew a hole through the, now almost fully healed, Home Tree still stood tall and was heavily protected. The smaller gates were less guarded so the elves managed to take those back within a few months, as the invading murder apes seemed not too keen on dying over those strategic points.
However, it seemed that the enemy had now set their sight on the second largest gate and begun turning it into an outpost. The worked tirelessly, day and night, fending off occasional elven raid parties sent by the Vatur kingdom with ease. The motion detecting turrets proved to be the biggest issue that elves could not overcome. As soon as they would get within range, even under the cover of night, the machines would mercilessly shower them with bullets until they were gunned down.
Desperate, Princess Claudia requested the presence of the kingdoms most decorated general, Eirlys Atteris. A warrior known for her outstanding strategic prowess, merciless approach to combat and the ability to turn even the spineless of elves into soldiers worthy of serving the kingdom. Within weeks of her arrival, she managed to push the expansion of the murder ape outpost back within range of their turrets and lock them in a stalemate. That gave the elven troops enough morale boost to believe that victory was possible. However, to the general, the behavior of the enemy told a completely opposite story. The human invaders seemed too content to stay within the confines of the stalemate and not expand the outpost further, as they have been doing thus far. Even their establishing of defense perimeters seemed to be oriented around doubling, if not tripling the defenses of the already established outposts borders rather than a preparation for a counter assault.
"They seem to be doubling the defenses again. This is the third day in the row that they turn the portal on. The reinforcements coming through however aren't really numerous. If they are mounting a counter attack, they will need a lot more manpower than this, even with their equipment, to breach into the forest." The scout replied.
"Something doesn't sit right with me about this entire thing." Eirlys thought to herself.
The humans seemed to be moving around, tinkering on some stationary devices, hooking them up to the portal. Most of them that came through the gate didn't even seem like military personnel, if uniform and lack of weaponry was something to based such an opinion on.
"My Lady." A tap on the shoulder interrupted the general from her train of thought. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"I am Amara Lindwysp, I served under Lord Eothen and Lady Claudia." Said the scout.
"And?" Replied the general.
"I have seen this before. The night his Majesty lost his life and her Majesty her legs." Amara continued. "These people aren't soldiers, they are..." She searched her mind for the right word. "Engineers."
"Engineers?" The other scout butted in.
"Yes. That's what the murder apes call them. They are in charge of the equipment. They were there the night the Iron Fortress breached the gate."
"The Iron Fortress..." Mumbled the general, turning her gaze back to the encampment, observing the humans work and set up various equipment. "But this gate is too small for another Iron Fortress to pass through."
"That may be so my Lady, but the devices they are setting up are designed to generate massive amounts of energy to keep the gate open for an extended period of time. I cannot be certain what they are up to, but they are priming that portal to be open for a while. Divines only know what sort of contraption they plan on ushering through it." Amara said.
The look on the scout’s face gave the general everything she needed to know about the gravity of the situation. There was not a single lie in the girl’s words. Something like this should not be dismissed.
"So, what are we to do? You've been there. Tell me." Eirlys said, catching the girl off guard.
"Oh uhm. I don't believe I am fit to advise you on what our best course of action is my Lady." The elf replied, losing her composure for a second.
"Not the time for humility or modesty Amara Lindwysp!" The general said coldly. "You've been there. You best know what went wrong with the assault on the Iron Fortress. Now, for the sake of the kingdom and your comrades, speak."
Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The devices that shoot, they follow movements. Even through rain and fog. Illusion spells don't work them either. If we get in range, they will mow us down before we even can get off a single arrow."
"That I am well aware of. Tell me something that I can actually use."
"Yes, yes, my apologies. Hitting them with explosive spells from outside of their range should do the trick, as they do not appear to track any movement that isn't actual enemy troops. They do not seem to be activated by arrows that fly past them, nor birds or any other critters I've noticed move within their range." The scout continued, trying her best to remember everything she knows about the enemy.
"Devices they are setting up, they're the ones keeping the portal gate open for a long time. If we take out those, it should close before they pull whatever they plan to, through the gate. And I don't see..." She focused her eyes on the encampment, as if searching for something amidst the enemy. "...any warhounds."
"Warhounds?" Eirlys raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes, my Lady. It was a one-armed, one-eyed human that ended the life of Prince Eothen that night. It had a metal left arm. Apparently, those soldiers are called war hounds and are here to exterminate the local population before the larger troops can move in."
"Gods, what a barbaric species. You'd think them demons in human skin, rather than actual humans." The other scout said in shock.
"I see. Do not omit anything scout." The general added.
"That is all I know my Lady." Amara bowed her head.
***
"So, the gladiatorial arena?" Solon asked, leaning against the wall of the wagon.
With his stomach full of food, the mood of the man improved significantly. Vur'z nodded.
"Yes. But don't think you can just whisk the kid away. The arena is situated under the village and it's a pay to enter type of deal. Steep price indeed." Explained the slaver. "And you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb in these parts. There isn't a single human in this village, much less one with your description. Whispers are going around already, about you taking the poster and accepting the quest to find the missing kid by doing so."
The human nodded, rubbing his beard with his good hand.
"And the event orchestrator has a lot of financial influence over the adventurers that are regulars in this village. So, keep your head on a swivel else you might a dagger to the back." The old man warned.
"I see. Well, Vur'z, I'd best be heading now. I'd have for you and your sons to catch strays because of me. Just point me in the right direction and I'll be on my way." Solon got up, shook the man’s hand and dusted off his pants and cloak.
"They are at the Crooked Claw's inn. In the basement, that's where the underground arena is and also where the gladiators are being kept." Vur'z replied, shaking the human’s hand in return. "I wish you the best of luck."
As solon turned to leave, Kopak stopped him. "Here, take this. It's not much, but it'll be of use to you, I hope."
The slaver trader’s son handed an old hatchet to Solon. A simple bone handle with an obsidian blade. The mercenary accepted the gift and placed it on his belt, it would be of use more than just to rely on hand-to-hand combat and his metal arm. "Thanks kid. You boys don't give your old man too hard of a time. So long."
With that, the soldier headed down the street and disappeared out of sight once he rounded a corner.
***
The entire village seemed devoid of life once the sun went down. As the ringed moon illuminated the empty streets, Solon could not help but feel watched. He did not even try to confirm if the feeling was true, knowing that playing oblivious would give his stalker more window to slip up. Following directions given by Vur'z, he eventually found Crooked Claw's Inn. The place was crowded, mostly with adventurers and some village folk, though something about them seemed odd. A good number of them, including the barmaids, seemed to survey the surroundings at regular intervals, as if on the lookout for something.
Thanks to his left eye implant, Solon didn't have to risk getting too close to the windows or doors to see inside, choosing to instead survey from the roof of a small house across the street. The front door was out of the question. Solon waited for the crowd inside to slowly get drunk, before making his move. He snuck behind Inn, slipping inside through the back entrance. Even the vigilant adventurers and barmaids have dulled their senses with hours of alcohol and loud music, so Solon did not have to be too stealthy. As long as he was not in direct line of sight, he didn't have to worry too much. The two cooks he found in the kitchen, since that's the room that the back door lead directly towards, did not seem to care about him being there. One of them sat on the floor, seemingly exhausted, while the other struggled to finish the few remaining orders for the intoxicated, rowdy patrons in the main dining hall of the inn.
Hiding his metal arm under his cloak and his shining left eye under the hood, Solon put his best mute impression, mumbling and making incoherent speech that meant nothing, while waving his right hand in a fighting motion. The cook on the floor took some time to understand what the man was trying to say, before figuring out that the stranger was asking for the entrance to the underground arena. Not wanting to deal with whatever was wrong with the cloaked lunatic in front of them, the cooks simply pointed to the door furthest from them on the left. It was evident they weren't paid enough to care about anything besides cooking. Solon, still engrossed in his acting attempt, thanked them with more mumbling, before rushing to the door and opening it swiftly, disappearing into the hallway on the other side, before any alarm bells went off in the heads of the cooks.
Following the long, thin, barely lit hallway, the mercenary soon found himself in a large room, looking very similar to a prison cell block. The smell of filth and moisture wafted from every direction, assaulting his nostrils. He spat on the ground, so the smell does not linger in mouth, before proceeding to sneak through the almost pitch-black room. Groaning, sniffling and occasional cough would come from different cells, though the majority of them seemed empty. Four torches attempted to light up the cell room, but their fires were dimmed, at the bring of being put out. Not that the darkness was an issue for the soldier, the implant that was replacing his left eye allowed him to see just fine in the dark.
Most cells were occupied by bones and corpses, emaciated bodies that withered away from thirst or starvation. Those that still had living prisoners inside, were occupied by beastfolk. The majority of them being of adult age and in no shape to do anything. Even his presence didn't seem to elicit any reaction from them. What was done to them, he had no idea, but they had clearly given up on life.
"This explains the lack of guards in this area. Even if these guys weren't caged, they still wouldn't even try to escape." Solon thought to himself.
Sounds of cheering and yelling came from outside the room. Finding the door, the soldier peeked through the doorway. There it was, the gladiatorial arena Vur'z spoke about. A pit, lined with something akin to barber wire, with two combatants, clearly beast folk, engaged in bloody hand to hand combat against one another. The seats placed in rows all around the pin were filled to the brim. Solon could recognize a few faces in the crowd, some from market and others from the adventurer’s guild.
With each blow exchanged, the crowd cheered and shouted. Coins pouches were passed around as the spectators made bets who would win. Women, barely dressed, walked around the crowd either passing out drinks or collecting coin from the bettors. Behind the bleachers and the crowd, several more cells lined the walls. Solon crouched, moving slow and low as to not get spotted.
The entire gladiatorial arena had a simplistic designed, working the mercenary's favor. A single hallway with cells lining the walls on one side, filled with that night's combatants, and a wall up to hip height on the other side, allowing a partially obstructed view of the main arena in the center. A single source of light hung above the arena, being the single source of light, not counting a few dim torches on the hallway’s walls. The bleachers wrapped around the pit where gladiators fought. Since all fighters were beastfolk, a ceiling of heavy metal bars was placed where the top of the arena pit met the bottom of the bleachers, to prevent any attempts at escaping of the gladiators from the pit and attacking the audience.
The ring of bleachers served as a divide between the arena pit and the cell hallway. The majority of the guards were nearest to the pit and audience, allowing Solon to sneak through the hallway without much issue, as long as he kept low and quiet.
The battle that was taking place below, from what he could hear at least, was a brutal one. Most likely fought to the death or very close to it. Growling, squealing and cheering all mixed together into noise that perfectly portrayed the brutality of the event. He looked through the bars of each cell, using his eye to quickly scan the captives inside, looking for the kid from the poster. Several cells and still no luck.
"Solon. Pssst SO-LON!" Came an all too familiar voice from the right of him.
Solon snapped his head to towards the source of the voice. In one of the smaller cells stood Sheela. The mercenary snorted, stifling a laugh.
"The almighty Dune Queen. I did not know followers get recruited from inside locked cells." He whispered.
She made a sour face at his mocking statement, before flipping him the bird. Another thing with universal meaning between both worlds. "What are you doing here?" Sheela asked, as he snuck closer to the cell.
"I'm looking for that kid Vur'z was hauling. He's got a pretty decent price for his safe return." Solon replied, quietly pulling out the poster with the kids face on it.
"Oh, and here I thought you've become a do-gooder for the sanctity of your soul." The former genie commented, before pushing her hand through the bars of the cell and pointing down the hallway, in the direction Solon had come from. "The kids over there, he's been roughed up quite a bit, since he didn't want to quiet down. He's still too small for fights, so he's not going in the pit tonight."
Solon nodded, rolling up the missing poster and putting back in his pocket. He turned around to head over to the kid’s cell. "Thanks Sheela."
Before he could properly make even a step, two long arms grabbed him by the cloak and turned him around, gripping him by the collar and holding him still. "Solon, I swear to the 7 divines, if you don't get me out of this cell, I will strangle you to death with my bare hands, right now." Sheela looked down at the man’s smug expression, speaking fast in a single breath, trying to remain whispering despite the desire to obliterate the soldier on the spot. Her golden eyes shining from the darkness, if looks could kill, Solon would be in the great beyond already.
Thanks to his implant eye, the mercenary could see the vein popping on her forehead as she glared at him.
"Alright, alright. I'm just playing with you." The shit eating grin consumed even more of his face, as the smugness in his expression threatened to reach critical levels. The former genie let go of his cloak with an exasperated sigh.
A frown took place a smirk use to be as he examined the lock that held the cell closed. He checked Sheela, from head to toe, making sure she's not in any shape that would hinder mobility.
"What? Now's not the time to be fawning over my looks Tin man." She scoffed.
"I'm checking if you are chained to the wall or anything that could prevent you from running. I can get you out, but it'll be loud. So I'll need you to send it as soon as I open the door." Solon explained, grabbing the cell door with his left hand. He looked up at Sheela, who took a step back and nodded.
His mechanical arm whirred softly before amping up. In a single powerful pull, the old lock gave way and the cell doors loudly swung open while creaking, before hitting bars and making even more noise. Sheela, the second the door banged against the bars, took off running down the hallway in the direction Solon had come from, with the mercenary hot on her heels.
"Four cells down from the entrance door!" She said, swinging the entrance door open and disappearing behind it as Solon kept on running past it towards the cell where the kid was being held.
The audience caught wind of the noise and so did the guards, so the mercenary had to work fast. Grabbing the cell doors and fully tearing them off the hinges, Solon got inside the cell. One quick look to confirm he didn't get the wrong kid and he was got to go.
The beastfolk boy on the other hand, did not share Solon's sentiment when it came to a quick escape. Believing the mercenary to simply be another one of the guards or trainers, he flew into a rage, hissing and screaming at the man, while flailing his arms, prepubescent claws out and ready to cut.
Chanting the same sleep spell incantation, he heard from Vur'z, the soldier approached the hysterical boy. Putting the little beast to sleep with a non-effective sleeping spell and a very effective right hook, Solon tossed the knocked-out boy over his shoulder and dashed outside the cell and towards the door, stopping just long enough to throw the cell door he had previously torn off, at the approaching guards.
***
General Eirlys and her troops were already cutting it close with their planned assault. The portal gate had been open without interruption for almost half a day, with only human engineers running in and out of the portal. Observing them gave some insight at the gates themselves and how they can be used. Watching the same men go in and out multiple times, before suddenly becoming dizzy and throwing up, had Amara realizing that there is a limit to how many times one can go through a portal in a short span of time before experiencing negative effects.
The elves waited for the cover of night to launch their attack, but tension was high. No one knew what the humans were priming the portal for, but as the number of engineers reduced and the outpost seemed to finish with all necessary preparations, Eirlys understood that it all comes down to this moment.
With everyone in position, arrows at the ready, the general focused her magic. Her arrow pulled back as the head of the arrow began to glow while Eirlys chanted to herself. A sharp inhale and the arrow was let loose.
The success, entirely dependent on scout Amara's information, was evident. Striking its mark, which was one of the human motion sensor turrets, the arrow exploded, rendering the device useless.
Humans sprung to action immediately, as the elven troops rushed out the forest, getting in range to let their arrows loose. Eirlys primed a second arrow, same spell, same target, another turret down. With arrow fired, her spell casting and firing increased in speed, taking down the turrets before they could be moved or properly fortified. As the last of them went up in flames, she rushed out of cover to join her troops in storming the outpost.
The generators that powered the gate and kept the portal open were heavily fortified. Her arrows, even with explosive enchantments could not leave even a single dent on them, let alone get to what's inside. So, the second option was to storm and take over the outpost, killing anyone who tries to get in from the other side, until they figure out how to disable the machines keeping the portal opened.
Caught by surprise, humans struggled to ward off the sudden elven attack. Their over reliance on the now destroyed turrets evidently proved to be a massive flaw. However, the elves were still going up against guns, and despite having the strength in numbers and the dark night on their side, not a single one of them has yet managed to get across the defensive walls of the outpost without being gunned down immediately.
Volley after volley of arrows rained down on the outpost, pushing the humans all the way back to the portal gate. This seemed like a victory for elves at last. That was what the general wanted to believe as her troops finally broke through the defense and stormed the outpost. But they were too late.
The portal rippled, as a monstrosity of metal came through it on four legs. Looking at it, Eirlys thought it looked like a spider or a crab of sorts. Then it came, the sound nightmares were made off. The spinning of metal, faster and faster, before gunfire echoed through the night. Not single shots, not burst fire, but a continuous shower of high caliber rounds tore the elves like they were leaves.
"FALL BACK! THEY BREACHED THE PORTAL!" The general screamed, leaping back over the wall, as the second spider like machine started crossing the portal from the other side. On each side a minigun, similar to the ones the turrets had, but larger in comparison. Turrets would gun down their targets, but these would tear them to chunks. Whirring and clamoring with each step it took, the machine moved closer. The general focused her magic, firing enchanted arrow after arrow at the unholy contraption, but her attempts yielded no results.
She finally leapt back over the outpost wall and joined what remained of her troops, as they ran back to the woods for safety, without any semblance or strategy. Just a mad dash in hopes of saving their heads.
The giant metal insect followed, walking through the stone wall with ease. Once more it opened fire, this time aiming at the cover they were running towards. Bullets tore through trees with ease, crushing any hope the elves had when it came to surviving this ordeal. Eirlys stood before it, aiming her arrow at the machine, one last ditch attempt to buy her comrades time to escape.
As the second walking nightmare began breaching the portal, the general experienced overwhelming despair grip her entire being for the first time in her long life. Guns stopped firing for a moment to cool down, the heavy metal leg of the machine raised high and ready to squash her. She fired arrow after arrow, fear and helplessness sinking deeper into her heard every time an arrow would bounce off the hard shell of the machine.
"This is it." She thought.
"I hope at least some of my troops escaped."
Guns sped their rotation up again, preparing to leave only examples, not survivors. Eirlys screamed in fury as the leg of the machine began to drop down on her.
"ENOUGH!" A voice boomed through the night, shaking the ground and the general to her core.
The machine stopped, just for a second, before being hit from the side by a massive rock shaped like a cone. It toppled over, its mechanical cries of death echoing for a while longer as it spilled its black, flammable blood and desperately tried to get back up. Eirlys turned to first to her right, her heart overcome with relief as she witnessed all her troops, alive and well, kneeling on the ground in reverence.
Turning to her left, she dropped to her knees to join them.
"Your Holiness."
Night became as bright as day, while a single person slowly made its way to the outpost. Her entire presence exuding an aura of power and wisdom worth millennia. Glowing like the brightest star, the leader of the High Elves came to the general's rescue in their time of need.
Simply extending her arm and pointing at the portal gate, then clenching her fist while turning her hand, the portal closed, cutting off the second machine that was slowly getting through in half. The energy feedback made the generators explode. Still, despite such an overwhelming show of force, the remaining humans in the outpost still opened fire on her.
The High Elf was not amused in the slightest.
"Perish from my sight, vile vermin." She hissed, before a ball of fire dropped onto the outpost, swallowing everyone in alive whole.
"On your feet General. I have much to discuss with your king, take me to him." The radiant woman ordered.

***
Solon caught up with Sheela, as the pair now ran through the empty village streets with a furious mob of mercenaries, adventurers and village folk coming after them.
"What are we to do? Can't run forever." The soldier said, rounding another corner in hoped of losing their pursuers.
"To the caravan resting area, that might be our only escape." The genie said, grabbing him by the cloak and running with him down yet another alley.
"What happened to the kid?"
"He'll be fine. Just a little headache when he wakes up." Solon assured her, as the boy dangled off his shoulder like a bag of potatoes while he ran.
Finally making it to the rest area, they hopped in the first wagon that seemed empty and was actually still attached to the horse like creatures that pulled it.
"Hiyah! Mush! Move, go. Cmon!" Solon yelled, pulling and moving the reigns that controlled the animals, but none of them bothered to move.
"Ooooh fuuuck!" The mercenary looked over his shoulder at the mob approaching.
Sheela grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into the wagon as she grabbed the reigns.
A deep breath, focusing as best possible to channel her magic, the feeling still foreign and alien to her.
"Ahk'Am! Akash, jan!" The forger genie shouted.
Like possessed, the animals jumped to their feet and began to move. A light jog turned into a mad gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Solon ducked as daggers and bricks flew past the wagon, thrown by the furious arena mob that was now left behind, as the wagon disappeared from sight, heading towards the desert.
"Where do we go now?" Solon asked.
"I don't know. We got out of there safe. As for where next, let's ask the kid when he wakes up." Sheela sighed and sat down.
***
(Hi. I'm back with another chapter. The support from all over is a true delight and really makes me want to keep this series going.
I want to thank Agro Squirrel Narrations for covering some of my work before, so more people can enjoy it. That goes for all other narration channels that have been given my permission to narrate some of my work.
Feel free to check me out on:
Royal Road Scribble Hub Patreon
Thank you for your kind and encouraging words, I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them. Have a lovely day.)

First time posting here (or anywhere, that is). I'm looking to vent a bit and get some 'yea, sucks, I went through it too' support for the first half, and some lessons learned / advice for the second half of this post.
I (currently 33M) was in a 2 year long relationship with an uBPD partner (currently 31F) that ended about 1 year ago ago. I'll spare the little details, but it was pretty typical from the months of scrolling I've done on this sub. Here's a quick recap -
-First 3-6 months were incredible - laughing, dreaming, unlimited shared interests, incredible and frequent sex, random gifts and weekend adventures, showered with emotional validation and support (love bombing). I met my soulmate.
-Major fights around the 6-12 months mark, her frequently threatening to leave, packing up her stuff, swearing at me and telling me she hates me, emotional outbursts out of nowhere, obsession with every past dating experience / relationship I had ever had, needing every detail and saying it 'felt like cheating' every time I had a past relationship (even if it was as far back as high school / college, and I also had no contact with any prior exes)
-Threatening to kill herself if I ever broke up with her (on several occasions). She never got violent but once or twice stood between me and exiting the room / house / whatever (which is an escalation towards violence, as many know)
She was unfortunately the child of an early divorce, and her father died when she was 9, her stepfather was an emotionally absent and verbally abusive man. He had 2 kids with her mom, who he showered with love, while being hot and cold (usually cold) towards her. Her mom was largely the same, essentially neglecting her to be with her new family, even though she was in the same home. I empathized with this, but this is an obvious breeding ground for BPD. Her mom also had some black and white, hot and cold, excessively emotional outbursts and thought patterns, so she might have had some sort of PD or bipolar issue as well. Conversely, I came from a poor, but very close large family who I am close with to this day. She always seemed jealous of that, and would frequently try to wedge me away from my large group of friends and eventually my family as well.
There were many moments where it was bad. Before I knew much about BPD, I assumed she had an emotionally traumatic childhood, and just needed to be shown what love was. Like so many on here, I was a catch for her, I was emotionally stable and established, modestly successful in my career, an Army veteran who was well networked, and a social butterfly with several groups of friends. This often times lead to her resenting me though, and as previously mentioned, she tried her best to criticize me and compete with me, rather than grow with me and treat my victories as hers (which they would have been).
Because of this, I thought, hey, if I fully commit, she will see the light. She will know what love is. So, we got engaged. I took her to Italy on a surprise trip, got her nails done / spa facial / hair touched up, and proposed to her at a cliffside overlook in Italy. I paid for everything (not that it matters, but you get the point). I had professional photos. On social media, she had it great (sound familiar?)
For about 2 weeks, it was like it was in the beginning, then it all fell apart. A few months later, we fought every day on the phone for a month until 2 or 3 in the morning (I had asked for space, which she reluctantly and after many threats, gave me).
Again, just to spare your reading, after breaking up, within weeks, she filed a lawsuit against me. She tried to get me to pay for her wedding dress (no legal standing for this anywhere in the US without a signed contract), the venue (I had proof her family got a full refund, she tried to sue anyways), the church (she made up some $500 fee for the church? I called and they said that's not a thing), save the date invitations (lol), she tried to sue me for items she claimed she bought but I actually did (furniture etc.), and of course, she refused to give me the engagement ring back (which, again, in almost all cases in all but 2 states, is illegal). I ended up settling and giving her $4000, but if she ever contacts me again, I have grounds for criminal harassment and restraining orders (I have a cousin who's a solid lawyer and helped me out a ton and was sure to get this prearranged in case she ever comes back). Given this, there has been no contact for about 10 months, with us having broken up about 12 months ago. Oh, and the kicker of all of this? A week after we broke up, my dad was diagnosed with advanced stage lung cancer. He died just under a month later. He had been in perfect health, starting having a weird cough (but had covid, so we just assumed), then when it wasn't going away, we brought him in, and yea.
I had to deal with all this legal mumbo jumbo, and almost daily emails three times longer than this post telling me how horrible I am and how I'm apparently an abusive narcissist and the devil himself. The double kicker? She knew my dad was dying, and despite having lost her dad, had zero empathy over the whole thing. "I'm sorry about your dad's passing, I really am, but what does that have to do with you owing me thousands of dollars?" (I did not)
So, onto happier things. About 4 months ago, I met an incredible woman by complete chance, at church of all places. She's more attractive than my ex in my opinion, from a similar background socioeconomically as me, shares more beliefs/values/goals/temperament/interests with me, her family is incredible and my family adores her. Seriously, they apparently hated my ex and were scared to death when I got engaged, but they adore this woman. She's the real deal. She knows about the crap and baggage with my ex, and couldn't have been more understanding or supportive of me. She has teared up twice hearing stories of the abuse, and has comforted me and told me how she loves me and that I'm a good guy and I'm wonderful to her and that she understands if I sometimes get a little weird because of the past.
My advice portion is this - what have you guys done to find success in your next relationships? I'm fine about 80% of the time, but the other 20% (which is a lot if you think about it), I'm anxious shes going to leave me, I'm anxious shes going to hold my past against me, I'm anxious she's going to start a fight out of nowhere, I'm suspicious of her kindness or motives behind doing things. She got me a house plant the other day (shes a plant girl - 10/10 recommend) just because I said I'd like more, and it was a type of plant with utility that I mentioned I may want a few of. She did it cause she loves me. That's all. Just like how I'd do things for people just because I love them, and that's all. But I can't help but wait for the strings attached, the weaponization of her kindness against me, or whatever. As I read on here, with a BPD partner, "no good deed of theirs will go with you unpunished".
Any and all support and advice is appreciated. Going NC is clearly the best way to go, which I knew before this, but I'm here to offer that as my own advice. Go NC, find outlets whether its exercise, social events, spirituality, hobbies, or a combination thereof, and focus on tomorrow. Allow the negative thoughts of their treatment of you to flow through you, feel them, and let them melt away, each time deciding you're going to let them bother you ever so less until they don't bother you at all.
Thinking of you all and praying for your healing. Thank you in advance for any feedback.
*EDIT - Grammar

First/Previous
There’s a place for mourning, but I’ve never known it long enough for comforting myself—the girl wanted to cry and I could scarcely move and when I did work the courage to exercise my muscles, I found the task possibly too great but eventually leveled myself into a sitting position; I was burned badly—the skin of my body up the left side of my body stung like hell and my jacket remained on me only by fate because it was so burned through that it hung off me like a dry heavy rag. The left side of my face didn’t feel right, and I didn’t dare to ask the mourning girl what damage there was.
When I did speak, I croaked out for help in getting to my feet and Gemma, seemingly remembering me, cut her eyes in my direction; there was something nasty in her and it took no prodding from me to get from her the nastiness.
“How many people need to die so you live?” she asked it bluntly and petted the dog that remained by her side. It was the question I’d asked myself so many times already. I didn’t have the answer for her. She added, “Maybe if you’d done something.” Her head shook and twinkles remained in her eyes; the dog went from her, trotted across the dry earth, and sniffed the corpse of the Alukah—or what remained of the beast anyhow.
Somehow, in the last moments of the boy’s life, he’d gotten a shot off on the thing, but whatever the struggle, it seemed too late to save his own life. “Help me up?” I asked the girl again.
Gemma opened her mouth like she wanted to say something then stopped, clapped her mouth shut then she angled herself onto her own feet from where she’d been sitting and moved to me, and I climbed her arm to stand. My left leg was hobbled near useless beneath me and so I held around the girl’s neck on that side, and she walked me near the terrible scene where the boy lay beside his kill.
Trouble, being a dog, did what a hungry dog does and sniffed the boy’s body and pushed its snout where the open throat was, the place where the head should’ve been; in a moment I was let go and fell to the ground, landing hard on my knees; the pain which jolted through me as I slammed onto the ground sent my vision white entirely and only once I’d blinked I realized the girl had gone after the dog. She lifted her leg, and the end of her boot met the animal’s ribs, “Get away from it!” she shrieked at the animal. It squealed perhaps more from surprise than hurt and scampered towards the road, but remained yards out, watching us with its head lowered.
“It’s only a dog,” I tried.
She ignored me and was to the ground too, beside the fallen boy. I sat and watched, and she punched the dirt till finally she did cry, and it was heavy; the girl’s shoulders rolled and her whole-body shook, and she clapped her hands across her mouth like she didn’t dare scream. “We should bury him,” she said through a terrible muffle, “Burn him?” she posed the question to the air over her head. “We can’t leave him out here for anything to get. We can’t carry him. Something should be done about it.”
“Help me up.”
“And?” she twisted around where she knelt, a long expression, elderly, deep with grief, “We won’t make it.”
I shifted under my knees to relieve pressure from my left leg and nodded.
“No food. No water. Andrew’s dead,” she pushed her fingers into the dry earth by her hand and brought up a clump of it, letting it fall through her fist.
“I told you to stay home.”
She chucked the dirt at me and spat, “Shut up! You would’ve probably given him up long ago if you’d travelled this way with him alone. Coward!” She sobbed more.
I finally put myself into a seat on the dirt, tried to lift my arms to support my chin, but through the coughing, through the pain in my ribs, I could not—my vision listed lazily across to the dog and it still looked on at us, sniffing the ground, moving in semicircles, but slowly closing the gap between where it had run from us.
“You’re not a coward,” she said, “You’re not, but I hate you so badly.” Her voice was a dry growl.
I looked again at the boy’s corpse then at her. “I’m sorry. It looks like I’ve put you in a real bad spot.” I laid back tentatively, nursing my sides. A dirt nap would’ve done me well. “Take Trouble. Get on without me then. Just go west. If you’re quiet, you could travel at night.” I sighed and stared at the blue sky, the wisps of clouds. “Go quick. Follow the big road. I-40. Maybe there’s signs that say it—there once was. Follow it west until you see Babylon. It’d be hard to miss. Three or four days if you push it.” I sighed again. “If you’re quiet, you can travel at night. Quiet and low. Watch for fiends. Keep Trouble close. Quick now.”
I’d closed my eyes, and I heard her shift and then I felt a shadow over me; upon opening my eyes, Gemma stared down at me—a long frown was traced across the lower half of her face.
She blinked for a long second. “Get up,” she said, “Get up. I’m not going to drag you all the way there, so get up.”
I put out my hand for a lift and was surprised by both her finesse and her strength; she slipped beneath my arm, and we moved to the body—she said bye and stopped only for a moment to lift the shotgun beside him—she slid the strap over her own shoulder while I awkwardly held to her lightly by the shoulder. She called Trouble and the mutt came after at a distance.
We took down the road worse than tired, but the stink of the dead beast remained in my nose; the Alukah was dead—what other foul creatures remained ahead?
Delirious hours went by until it was night, and I could scarcely gather myself to know what direction I was headed; Gemma found someplace, some hole somewhere for us to sleep. Then it was day again and all I knew was that one leg fell after the other in a gross tandem limp. Consciousness was blinks like weird time travel, and it was only when it was night again and we’d found a dead old tree sticking from the ground—that image remains—and we sat by its massive trunk and looked out on the road (the road I thought was the I-40) and I’d only just closed my eyes when I felt something pressed to my mouth.
“Drink,” said Gemma.
I latched to the opening of whatever gourd or canteen she had, clamping my eyes tighter because if it was a dream, I didn’t want to know. I drank and drank until she yanked it from my grasp.
There beneath the tree, black like it was at night, a moment of cool clarity came to me; the water starvation had taken its toll. “Where’d you get that?” was all I could hope to ask.
The girl whispered, “I wanted it, and it was. It just was.”
I slept with the dog across my lap; I could feel no more pain from my left leg, but the smell of the wound tipped that it was likely festering. What should I do if I were to lose a leg?
The night we slept beneath the tree, I had a terrible nightmare about a boy in flames and I couldn’t tell if the boy was me or someone else; recollecting tends to obscure whatever original message there is in dreams and the further they’re recalled, the runnier they become. Maybe the boy was me or it was Maron, or it was Andrew. It doesn’t matter. What I know is that none of it’s good.
In waking, I remember only small pieces: the sound of others, the smell of horse manure, the smoke from an oil carriage. Someone took my pants and threw blankets over me. I rocked prone in the back of an oil carriage and Gemma sat alongside me and the driver spoke with her, but I don’t remember what was said. A dog barked—Trouble?
I tasted medicine and water—there was the stink of salve.
The hum of the oil carriage was broken by a moment of Gemma pushing me with her hand hard and she whispered, “The arch!” and I knew what she meant.
I had not another moment of clear thought until I awoke in a near sterile room. Whatever pain was in my body radiated rather than stung and I could see from the high bed the window which looked out on a wide city street from stories high. I blinked and for a moment wished a great catastrophe would take me from the delusion—it was no delusion and within moments, I accepted this and tried to raise myself to a sit.
My left leg was wrapped and looked strangely pale where it was left without a blanket and my sides ached and I felt dizzy. Blistered scarring ran like bumpy rivers up the left side of my body. I wanted to vomit, pushed myself against the head of the bed and steadied my breathing then called out a sickly question of hello.
From the far corner of the room, a woman in a wizard hat pushed her head through the doorway to look on me then rushed in to ask me how I was, and I told her, and she said to relax.
A light vegetable platter was brought with a pitcher of water, and I couldn’t eat enough for it to matter, but I drank plenty so that I refilled my cup several times.
Suzanne spilled through the doorway, a concerned expression locked on their face and they put those eyes right on me and I couldn’t squirm away and then the eyes softened and Suzanne approached the bed, waved the other wizard away and they sat on the bed by my leg and for a moment I thought I’d aged them by my presence because the shadow that cut across their brow when they glanced away twisted that stunning glow into a far caricature. Then Suzanne smiled a bit and touched my hand and they whispered, “They’ve not given you a mirror?” They nodded, “Sedatives.”
They reached into their flowy robes to withdraw a hand mirror and pushed it into my outstretched hand.
I’d set myself on fire, so it wasn’t so much a surprise when I saw the scarred skin where the flames had eaten their way up my body; the left side of my face was unrecognizable, purple, and still blistered. I touched the place there and traced my fingers along the scars till I came to the place where my ear normally sat—it was a shriveled scabby thing. The corners of my mouth glanced upward even though I felt different about it. I sat the mirror to my lap and looked at Suzanne.
They squeezed my hand. “You were late—very late—but I didn’t know why. I thought you were dead.” They stared at the floor again. “You’ve had a terrible fever for more than a week. It didn’t seem as though you’d wake.”
“Am I ugly now?”
Those hazel eyes met my own and I couldn’t hide my smile even though my eyes began to water—I blinked the wet away. Suzanne visibly bit their tongue and shook their head. “You were always ugly.”
I choked on laughter and held onto my ribs; the mirror clattered from my lap to the floor and Suzanne reached for it to deposit the thing back into their robes. They chuckled too and their shoulders relaxed even though the dark circles on their eyes remained, the tired look of a person—had they lost sleep for me?
I reached out and grabbed their hand as hard as I could manage—maybe I hoped for an electric jolt to go along with what I tried to convey, “I love you,” I said it so suddenly; I tried latching.
Just as suddenly, they snaked their own hand from mine and held their fingers together, locked across their knees. “Don’t,” they said, “You said you wouldn’t.”
My head shook, “I mean it. I love you.”
“You’ll stay?”
“I’ve got one more thing to do. One more trip.”
They stood from the bed, visibly shaking.
“One more,” I pleaded, “Then I’ll come, and I’ll stay.”
“Where are you going to go?” Their outrage exploded full force—their hands became fists by their sides, and they took a step from the bed, and I felt myself flinch. “Where could you go in that state?” They motioned at me wildly, “Tell me!”
“I ain’t gonna’ leave right away.”
“You’re delusional. Have they doped you into stupidity?” They screamed.
“This is the first time in a long time that I know what I gotta’ do.”
“No, I don’t think you’ve ever understood what you need to do,” they shook their head then held it in their palm, “No.”
“Please listen to me.”
“I won’t.” And they didn’t; they left the room, slamming the door behind them.
The pain came and went and sometimes it was really so miserable that I couldn’t sleep a wink and I’d spend eternities staring at the dark ceiling in the night and I’d smell the fresh air of Babylon—Alexandria carried in through the window. I’d decided that even if they took my leg because of an infection, I’d strap a peg on and continue on my way; it became a paramount goal in my mind to heal up, get back to Golgotha, and undo what had bothered me for so long. The wizards, with their tonics, their salves, and capsule medicines, took good care of me during my recovery and I was even able to plead a bit of liquor from the attendants to help me sleep through some of those long nights.
The days of bed rest stretched to the point of oblivion and boredom—not even the television on the wall could take my mind from the humdrum (books helped, but it was difficult to focus through the medication for long). Suzanne ceased their visiting, but Gemma came and brought Trouble with her, and the dog became fatter every time I saw it; the girl said the mutt remained anxious and often urinated unprovoked in inappropriate places, but the animal slept okay.
Upon Gemma’s first visit to me she was still a patient in recovery, and she came alone and sat in a chair alongside the bed and told me how I was a low-down liar, and I was.
“I asked about good places in the world, and you knew about this,” said the girl, “You knew about it the whole time.”
“Your dad wanted you home. I was gonna’ take you home. The way it was.” I frowned at myself.
A pang of sadness crept into the corner of her eyes, and she nodded it away, “We made it though.”
I sighed. “There was a time when we were travelling, and I was out of it. You found water. Where’d you find water?”
She cupped her hands, angled forward in the chair so that her elbows rested on her knees. “It just happened. At first, I thought it was something I’d forgotten about—like I’d be so dumb as to forget that I had a whole waterskin—but it just appeared. It just was.” Gemma seemed to think about it for a while—upon watching her there sitting, I noticed that the scars which decorated her skin had healed to the point of faint discolorations and I briefly wondered how long ago that was. “The people here. The pointy hats. They do things like that all the time here. I saw a little girl in the street earlier and she could pull candies from thin air. Things aren’t and then they are. Ish—the old doctor, I guess, that’s been watching over your recovery—he tended to me too—I asked him about it, and he said that lots of people can manifest—that’s what he called it—and that it happens when people are put under extreme pressure. He said quart-of-Saul causes it and once you’ve done it, you can learn how to control it willingly. With time. Like a skill.”
“So, you’re a wizard?”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head, seemingly in disbelief, “Ish said it can be fatal if pushed to its limits. He said that if it’s left unsupervised, it can lead to renal failure—that’s what he said. Lots of the people in this building are here because of it,” she whispered, “The patients here, they have a gray look to them—their skin.” Gemma paused and swiped her hands through her close-cut hair, “How much can a person manifest?”
I clenched my jaw. “The boy?”
She nodded.
“Don’t do it. Don’t you even think about it.”
Gemma swallowed long and audible. “You’re right.” She relaxed into the chair and crossed her arms across her chest, “You said the libraries were big, but I didn’t know there were pictures like what they’ve got.”
“Movies?”
She nodded. “It’s a ridiculous place. I like it. He would’ve liked it. It’s nothing like home. You know, I always thought they cast spells or had some secret pact with demons.” The young girl, looking more like one than ever before, pushed her face into her hands and rubbed her eyes and peered through the cracks of her fingers to look at the television on the wall; her expression remained with the still object briefly before she removed her hands, and she frowned and looked at me again. Gemma’s face hinted at sickliness.
“I can relax,” said the girl, “I can breathe more easily than I have in all my life and that’s because of you,” her frown deepened, “I won’t ever know Andrew’s touch or his smile again and that’s because of you too,” she put up her hand as I opened my mouth in protest, “I do not hate you. I don’t. I can see things better now. Andrew may have been destined to die,” she shook her head, “He had joy and that’s too much for this world.”
Finally, she smiled, “I would’ve died at home. He would have. I know you didn’t let him die. His death is on us both. Dave too. How have you lived with yourself all these years with such a burden, Harlan?”
Under her direct, cool stare I felt more uncomfortable than ever and shifted in the bed. “I don’t think I have.” The answer wasn’t enough but felt honest.
“You shouldn’t act so pitiable all the time.”
Time passed and I did not ache deeply so often.
Isher, the wizened wizard, wore a long beard and kept a tight leathery cap over his crown and moved slowly but spoke in abrupt chirps whenever he came to aid me. He helped me from the bed—as he had begun to do often—and I hobbled slowly with his meager support, and he moved me to the window where I took the wall for support to look on Alexandria from a high point—I’d never seen it from that direction—and the place looked magnificent. Perhaps it was not the magnificence of the place, but the sheer gratitude I felt in seeing it at all. Narrow streets cut through tightly packed stone structures and buildings matched the attire of their citizens with conical pitched roofs. Aqueducts rushed downhill freely and there was music and shows and laughter—I’d never noticed the laughter before. Though the wizard bureaucracy and parliamentary arrangement felt distasteful to me, I could not help but appreciate that I did not smell lingering death; there would be no public executions. When executions happened, it would happen somewhere dark and silent, and no one could look on the dead or defile the corpses (at least not openly).
“You’re quite resilient,” quipped Ish.
I smiled, “I reckon.”
“Suzanne asks about you still.”
“Where have they been?”
“They say it’s painful because you’re leaving. I told them you won’t be leaving until I’ve said so.” The old wizard wiggled his upper lip to dance the mustache there then swiped a hand down his waist-length beard.
“Will my leg heal right, doc?”
He nodded, “You shouldn’t travel for some time. You should stay. There is room.”
I cast my gaze through the window again and saw that he spoke honestly; there was more than enough room there in Alexandria. Their walls were tall, strong, well kept—even clean. Along the skyline, I saw the massive arch which stood higher than all else (the gateway to the west). “You’re very old,” I told Ish.
He snickered and nodded, “Thanks.”
“I mean, you’ve seen enough to know that some things must be done. Don’t you have any regrets?”
“Everyone does,” he said.
“I’ve got one. A big one.”
“You intend on making it right then?”
I nodded.
“If you leave—I’ve not left the city for ages, but I know its dangers well. If you leave, you will likely perish. Is it worth it? You will have ruined the time I’ve spent on your recovery. Worse, you will make at least one person greatly sad. Weigh it. How great is this regret?” He sighed, squeezed my sore shoulder only to release it upon seeing me wince, “You’ve said I’m old and I am. You’ve asked of my regrets. All of us that reach an age have many beyond number and each of us knows that to regret so greatly and live in the past would be a waste of the time we’ve left. Those of us with sense, anyway.”
“So?”
“Don’t be stupid. You’ve the wrinkles and the grays, so there’s no reason for you to play the role of a child.” He sighed once more. “The choices of your life are your own, of course. I will do what a doctor does, but I beg you to not cause unnecessary grief.”
We sat quietly, looking out on the skyline, listening to the cityscape, merely enjoying the glow of the sun.
“You intend on grief?” asked Ish.
“As always,” I said.
Once I was able enough to move on my own, I did so no better than the invalid I’d become and although the people of Babylon were cheery, I did my absolute best to keep from them, maintaining a level of distance. Among the walks I took through the streets, cane in hand, arduous steps, Gemma accompanied me with the dog Trouble, and I felt the girl followed me not because of her care for me but because of familiarity—pity too. I took to the streets at night, customarily to smoke and to take in the cool air; the city lights, predominantly electric, awed the girl still even though she’d spent better than a month there and I saw those lights perhaps for the first time in the way they illuminated her wide eyes. She’d catch me catching her glued to the electric lights and shrug and then she’d piddle about this or that and she talked of Andrew all the time and asked how I felt about things, and I didn’t feel much besides pain which ached through my bones. But I was kind as much as I could be and lied about how I felt.
We’d taken to the foot of the arch, nearest the place where there were cross marks to keep people from tampering with the monument, and I watched the great thing overhead and she did too and I took to a nearby bench; the streets were different from Golgotha both in concept and execution—they were mostly paved and kept clean, relatively. Where Golgotha stood as a testament to human survival, Alexandria was a place of innovation, creativity; it was as though it was a place constructed for living. The walls of buildings had cornices, graffities, there was craftsmanship and flourishes where there was woodwork and where there wasn’t a place for enlightenment through creation, there was at least the growth of trees or hedges lining the avenues; the sound of rushing water was pleasant—aqueducts, free piping.
I finished the cigarette I had and tapped the cane against the ground between my feet and she sat alongside me, ushering Trouble to herself where she withdrew some snack from her pocket, and she fed the dog.
“The first thing you thought of after waking was immediately leaving. I didn’t know someone could be so dumb,” she said.
I smiled and nodded. “Sure.”
“I wish you wouldn’t be so dumb.”
“It’s not stupidity that takes me home. It’s—none of your business.”
“I could go with you?”
I shook my head.
“Why not?”
“I’ll be damned if I need to watch you across the wasteland again. I’m done with that. You’re a sorry travelling companion.”
Gemma looked solemn before a smile that might’ve been imagined and then there was silence; moonglow caught in her lengthening hair—it no longer sat so closely to her skull and her face seemed fuller than I’d ever seen it before. Her complexion was clear enough that I could see she owned freckles across her nose. Or maybe I was only then noticing them; her scars—the marks from Baphomet—were nearly gone entirely. “It’s easy to deflect it, isn’t it?”
“Mm.”
“Ish said you’re a fool. Suzanne’s angry with you. Should I be angry at you?” she asked, but before I could say anything, she continued, “Maybe I should. I’m not mad and I don’t think you’re dumb, not really.” She lifted her leg up so that she could sit atop her left foot while lounging there on the bench alongside me. “You’re stuck in the past. Like me. I wake up scared almost every night and reach out in the darkness and—” Trouble nuzzled the girl’s hand, and Gemma petted the dog’s nose delicately with her thumb, “Yes, Trouble’s there to comfort me. But I wake up and I can’t breathe. Sometimes I think I’m going to strangle the poor girl from a bear hug before I can get myself under control. The worst is that I wake up—once I’ve figured out where I am, I know there isn’t anything to be afraid of, but I am. Even knowing I’m here doesn’t help. You’re family?” She left the last bit as a question, and it remained in the air for the quiet.
I took in a gulp of the night and nodded.
“If you are going to go,” she paused to casually examine my left leg along with my cane as though to emphasize her point, “If you can go, then please come back.”
I didn’t look at her. “Thank you.”
Many months passed until I could stand without becoming unbearably dizzy and the cane became almost vestigial, almost—I still required the thing over long periods of time or whenever I felt particularly weak.
I did not speak to Suzanne as much as I would have liked; I did not speak to them at all for a long time.
I caught them in the library, among cartridges of digitized media, in the back rooms of the place, caught in dust and darkness. “I’ll be leaving in a week,” I told them.
They didn’t even raise their head from the table where they catalogued what new treasures had been plundered. My presence had no effect whatsoever.
My chest filled up and I tried, “People talk about love all the time and I know that there’s better people to say it than me.” I slumped in the doorway to the back rooms, holding the frame of the threshold for support. “I wish I had better, prettier words for it. Poets talk about meeting the one they love over and over because two lovers are destined to meet infinitely through many lives. That’s nice.” I nodded to myself while Suzanne lifted a box from a table, shifted it to floor, then turned their attention to the next box. “I don’t know how I feel about life after this. Or God. Maybe. I know we’ve got this life and maybe that’s all we’ve got—if that’s the case then I’m glad I know you. I’m glad I love you.”
Finally, Suzanne spoke, “You should go lie down and gather your strength for when you leave.” They didn’t even look at me.
“Look at me?”
They did not.
“Please.”
Suzanne offered a mere glance in my direction.
“I will come back to you.”
It would have been good to get a goodbye and better to have them tell me they wanted me back or that they loved me too, but there was nothing.
There’s no blame for Suzanne.
Before I went off, the wizards said bye to me and showed in greater force than I would’ve imagined. There was a throng of them gathered at the entrance to Poplar Bridge; one gathered themselves away from the others and played a ditty off a harmonica and others seemed to want to wish me well with small trinkets or salutations. Gemma came with Trouble and Ish admonished me on my way out; they brought me a carriage, one which ran off oil, and Gemma gave me my shotgun.
“We cleaned it—they cleaned it,” said the girl, “Replaced the strap. You shouldn’t run out of anything.” Her eyes fell on the wagon which hummed to life under the guide of a short wizard woman that fiddled with its controls from the perched seat.
“Thanks,” I said.
Gemma pulled me into a tight hug, and I hugged her back. “I’ll see you,” she said confidently.
I scratched Trouble on her cheeks and then pulled the dog into a hug too, lifting the dumb mutt from the ground a bit in doing so; I lost my footing and found it and the dog dropped and pushed in close to my legs to swing its ass widely in excitement.
Ish slapped a hand on my shoulder and the strength in his grip was weirdly great. “You can still change your mind.”
I shook my head. “Will Suzanne be here?”
It was the old wizard’s turn to shake his head, but he stopped then looked at the wagon. “How do you think it is we can afford to offer you that for travel? Oh!” Ish motioned to a nearby wizard and the young person came forward to offer something to his hands, “Suzanne wanted you to have these. At least.” The old man held out one of the signature dramedy masks in one hand and a wizard hat in the other. They looked familiar. “Incognito.” The old man tapped his nose with his forefinger. He looked at me seriously. “Be careful. I wish my Suzanne could’ve found a better someone, but if it’s to be you—come back.” Ish pulled me into a hug, patted me on the back hard.
I drove into the morning, across Poplar Bridge, over the dead Mississippi. Towards revenge? To my brother.
Loneliness had once been an ally—we’d become foreigners. With nothing more than the hum of the carriage and my own company, I became deranged beyond anything before.
First/Previous
Archive

(This was a battle that happened in a Crimson Paragon discord server, and is now being translated straight to reddit by yours truly! Enjoy.)
Talios had been on the Ironsides, a massive, city-sized airship owned by Maximillian Ironstout, ARMADA founder and Crimson Paragon member. He was, in fact, training Max in the ways of a sword, at Max's mother, Fortuna's behest. It started with Talios teaching Max some basic techniques, but seeing how Max normally fights, Talios saw it fit to teach Max his own fighting style, which mixes in sword and fist into one, unorthodox but brutal fighting style.
Eventually, training had to be cut short by a sudden call Maximillian had to attend to, leaving Talios to train on his own yet again. But not for long, as a crewmember and close friend of Max would approach Talios. Cerne, a centaur and princess of a long gone kingdom.
"Pretty impressive strikes you got there, Talios."
"After centuries of fighting... I'd be disappointed if they weren't impressive."
Talios would be speaking inbetween a powerful and blindingly fast flurry of blows. He'd end the combination on the dummy with a sweep kick and face slam.
"I feel like you might want a bigger target. Maybe one that... Fights back."
Talios is dense... But even he can pick up on the hints.
"Well, I wouldn't mind fighting someone like yourself."
"Hmm... It has been a while since I've had a proper fight. Though I'd feel awfully rude cutting in line for a duel with you. There's someone else who's been all too antsy to have a turn at that."
This particularly caught Talios's attention. He had a feeling he already knew who it was...
"And who might this be?"
At that, Cerne would speak into a device on her armor. In mere moments, thumps could be heard rocketting up the Ironsides and to the training grounds.
In mere moments, Aoi, the Oni, Warrior of The Setting Sun had arrived. A giant, even to Talios. But he's no stranger to fighting larger opponents.
"Ah, you. Fine by me."
Talios was actually quite excited for this fight. Aoi was the same. Talios summoned his Chaos Blade to his hand. Aoi stomped the ground, a large club in her hands.
And in a flash, the battle was on! Activating his Speed enchantment, Talios rushed down Aoi in the blink of an eye, slashing diagonally. Aoi's club would light ablaze and she would hold it with both hands like a log, narrowly blocking the slash and responding with a kick to knock Talios to the side.
Aoi's club already had a large gash in it, along with a cut on her shoulder...
"You're way too quick for your own good! Someone might use it against ya."
Aoi would run at Talios, her club held behind her and her fists burning bright.
"I will gladly wait for that day."
Talios would send a wave of Chaos towards Aoi as she would charge using Star Cleave, Aoi responding by slamming her club to the ground. This would cause the enchanted metal of the Ironsides to to shoot upwards into a wall. The chaos wave collides with the wall, blocking it but the wall getting destroyed in the process. The resulting shrapnel would leave a few small cuts on Aoi, but other than that little in terms of damage.
Aoi would continue her charge to Talios and attempts to slam her club straight into Talios's side, the wounds and scars on her body glowing a faint red along with her horns. Talios brings up his blade to block... But he underestimated his opponent. Even while using his other arm to brace the blade, he's sent back a fair distance by the powerful strike. Even while blocking, he felt that resonate in his body...
"What impressive power."
Talios would activate CONTROL, and with a stomp of his foot metal from the Ironsides would be ripped out of the ship, crumpling into a large boulder. He'd immediately punch the boulder full force, sending it flying at Aoi.
Aoi would plant the flat top of her club on the ground, facing the boulder head on. When it'd get in range, she'd punch it full force as well, making it practically explode and causing shrapnel to pierce her body all over. Blood flows from the wounds, and they glow brighter.
"I haven't seen such raw strength in centuries... I was right to want this. I haven't felt alive in so long!"
In one fluid motion, Aoi would kick her club up, grabbing it and charging in with a diagonal strike this time. Talios knows better though, narrowly ducking under the strike and coming back up with a left uppercut, the anti-magic freezing the mana in Aoi's body. She staggers back and her flames fizzle out, yet her wounds remain glowing. Aoi comes back down with a downward strike in retaliation!
Talios has no choice but to block, bringing his Chaos Blade up and putting his arm behind it to brace. This time though, he pumps his strength enchantment into the bracing arm for additional protection, giving him enough time to jump back and disengage from the clash. He's figured it out.
"The more wounds you sustain, the stronger you get. How interesting..."
"Tried to give ya a hint. Fast strikes tend to leave small wounds!" Aoi would let out a hearty laugh.
"You're already way tougher than any of those samurai I crushed back in the mountains! Where you just stood, most people woulda been nothing but a pile of broken bones!"
A crater of destruction around where Aoi and Talios had clashed was created on impact. Jagged spikes jut out the edges of the crater, Aoi slamming her left arm into a small patch of spikes. Her wounds glow brighter.
Aoi dashes in with a right hook, but Talios picks up on the trick; it's a feint. Talios readies himself, and sure enough at the last moment Aoi jumps up into a dropkick. Talios weaves to the side and grabs both of Aoi's legs, spinning and throwing her to the ground. Her body is blazing hot, and even with his elementally resistant armor he can still feel the heat, and she would recover from the throw as her wounds would light ablaze once more with purple flames. Accursed Soulfire.
"Perhaps a more direct approach will work better."
Aoi would grab a gourd off her hip and chug it. Her stance would change completely, her hands and flames covered in that same purple flame.
"Come then, Warrior Of Chaos."
Talios would take a deep breath, beginning to enter his Battle Trance... But something would change in him. A surge of emotion. Focus... No. He doesn't need focus. He doesn't WANT focus. He needs strength. Pure, Unbridled, Rage.
Talios's body would heat up massively, sweat turning to steam as it would form on his body.
"Fine then! I'll give you what you wish for, ONI!"
Talios would dash to Aoi in the blink of an eye, leaving a crater where he stood. He would throw a powerful left hook... But Aoi sways unnaturally, drunkenly avoiding the strike without any attempt to counter. She steps back, then moves back in with a lumbering slam attack.
Talios manages to duck to the side though, grabbing a wrist as he does. If it weren't for his elementally resistant armor, this would leave nasty burns... He goes for a knee strike, pulling Aoi into it by the wrist as he does. Aoi quickly flings Talios away though, chasing after him with a violent right hook. Her eyes are bloodshot.
Mimicking an unorthodox boxing style, Talios sways his entire torso back as if one is playing Limbo. An impressive feat of flexibility. The hook flies just over his body, and as Talios comes back up, he would go for an unconventionally angled left uppercut. But Aoi uses the momentum of her right hook to spin around into a kick to Talios's head, the two hitting eachother at the same time, causing eachother to recoil back!
Aoi spits out blood, her wounds burning and glowing a reddish purple now.
"You remind me of him... I'm glad you're the one teaching him."
Talios would shake off the dizziness he felt from that kick.
"I'm honored you think that, Oni."
Talios would change his stance, having his right hand up in defense, his left at hip level, moving back and forth. Hitman Style. He slowly approaches...
"I think it's time we end this."
Flames begin to collect above Aoi as she fortifies her stance, tendrils of flame creeping up her body and forming a rapidly expanding ball of flame.
"Can you feel the heat Talios? Can you sense the burning fury?!"
Her horns are glowing brilliantly, her scars like wildfire.
But in the blink of an eye, a left fist jab would be flying at Aoi. A flicker jab. Aoi manages to dodge, but Talios continues the assault of flicker jabs, all with exceptional speed. Eventually Talios manages to connect, freezing the mana in Aoi's body. The flames go cold, but Aoi delivers a rage fueled uppercut to Talios's chin, her rage making her hit twice as hard and fast.
"I guess we can't end this just yet."
Aoi would charge Talios, club in hand. But Talios had one ace up his sleeve... The Sands Of Time. He would turn the hourglass to one side, and in an instant a blue after image would follow his movements. Flow State, 65%. Talios would pour his strength enchantment into his left, then at breakneck speeds he would be in front of Aoi. Too quick to reasonably track.
He would throw a blindingly fast uppercut, the momentum of his dash combined with the strength, having the power to send Aoi flying...
But it's too late. Aoi's mana would unfreeze, and the purple flames would burn bright at the point of impact, covering Aoi in a fraction of a second. The stored energy would be released all at once, blowing up like a miniature sun. The Mountain Oni's Setting Sun. Aoi's ultimate attack. The resulting explosion would send ash and smoke flying, tearing a hole clean through the Ironsides. Maximillian would arrive just in time to see the tail-end of it.
"WHAT IN THE NINE FUCKING HELLS HAPPENED HERE?! I LEFT FOR LIKE, TEN MINUTES!"
After at least a minute, the smoke and ash would finally clear, revealing Talios having been blasted away by the initial explosion, in his own little crater. His armor has a new coat of jet black from all the ash... Nobody is sure if he's even alive. But everybody would be assured of his survival when the armor would rustle. Talios would slowly sit up, letting out coughs and hacks that would cause smoke to fly out of his helmet visor.
"That... Was... An amazing... Battle."
Aoi is still heavily wounded, blood gushing from various open wounds. They are beginning to close though. She slowly gets up, walking over to Talios and offering a hand.
"That it was... You've earned my respect... Talios... I had to go all-out just to survive."
Talios would gladly take her hand to help himself up. He'd look at his armor, letting out a sigh.
"Ahh, I'll have to get this cleaned..."

Hey fellow Redditors,
I would really appreciate some advice and guidance regarding a situation I'm currently dealing with involving my landlord. I recently made the decision not to renew my lease due to various reasons, but things have taken a turn for the worse since then. Firstly, and most notably, the landlord has become hostile towards me in our communication exchanges from the moment he was informed about non-renewal. Second, I have discovered mold in my daughter's bedroom, which explains the symptoms we've been experiencing, including coughing, fatigue, and other related issues. It's become apparent that the mold is the cause of these health problems. Although we always use an air purifier, my daughter continues to experience symptoms when she sleeps in that room, like a hoarse throat and cough. She no longer sleeps there because I have insisted on her sleeping in my bedroom or downstairs on the couch. I have also had chronic headaches for what seems like an entire week. Third, I have specifically asked the landlord several times in writing to have the front door repaired as the gap between both sides of the door exposes us to outside air and humidity, as well as unwanted insects that enter our home posing a safety hazard to us and our cat. The door has not been fixed for months and I have had to seal it off with cardboard and paper (which falls each time the door is opened). The door is only one example of numerous issues I have had with this rental. Another is door handles falling off doors. Finally, my landlord insists on showing the apartment to several potential tenants, even though there are outstanding repairs that haven't been addressed. I completely understand the landlord’s need and right to show the property to potential tenants, but this has caused additional stress and inconvenience for me and my daughter.
Some context: I am in the state of Texas (TX). I have a lease agreement in place through the end of June 2024 when the lease is set to expire. I have paid rent through that date. I work from home, I am single mom, and I suffer from chronic stress and several mental health challenges. Living here has exacerbated my stress level. No formal inspection was done before we moved in. Several things would break or malfunction rom light switches to plumbing to closet doors, to leaks, to towel hangers. When I asked about an inspection, at move-in, landlord insisted that “inspection” was done when he walked through the rental. A closet door falling off its rails almost fell on my daughter two months after we moved in. The hazards living here have been high. This is one of the main reasons I decided to end my lease. I recently asked the Landlord (again) whether an inspection had been done before we moved in and if not, if he could share any repair reports or the most recent inspection report. He refused and said there were no rules mandating him to share those reports with me. I have scheduled movers for May 30. However, the place has been paid for through the end of June.
Here are a few questions I have in light of these concerns:

1. Should I hire a state inspector to assess the mold issue for free? Is this a common practice in situations like mine?
2. Should I inform the landlord about the mold problem, or would it be better to communicate my concerns through a letter, requesting privacy and peace until I have fully moved out at the end of my lease?
3. Does the landlord have the legal right to continue showing the apartment to potential tenants while I am still residing there? Can I use my health issues as grounds for requesting privacy and quiet during this time? What rights do I have as a tenant to ensure that the landlord respects my privacy and quiet?

This is a very stressful situation, and I'm looking for the best way to navigate it while protecting my rights as a tenant. Thank you all in advance for your help and support!

Apologies this is so long, but I really need help and wanted to contain as many details as possible.
I live in a 1 bedroom + den apartment, and the air quality in one room seems to be bad. I get the feeling that there isn’t as much oxygen in there, which I think is worse when myself and my partner are both sleeping in there and letting off CO2. I have often felt that I need to crack the window for fresh air, but currently it’s extremely hot where I live, there is a lot of pollution, and tons of pollen from the trees outside which exacerbates my partners asthma.
My partner has a lot more coughing and phlegm when he is in our bedroom specifically. Sometimes he sleeps on the couch in the living room because of this.
The apartment is all concrete with no air vents. The other rooms have very old windows, but our bedroom has a new and well-sealed window which I think could also contribute to the lack of ventilation in there. It’s also the only room that is completely enclosed, whereas the living room, kitchen and den/nursery are more open.
I’m looking for advice on what else we can do to improve the air quality in that room, I am 9 months pregnant and worried about the baby sleeping in there.
Here are some other details of the room set up and what we have tried.

• we have a portable AC unit in the living room, this is the hotter side of the apartment where the sun shines, so it’s usually hotter in there. We also have a fan directed at the bedroom door to try and circulate the cool air through the doorway, it somewhat cools the room but is an eyesore and blocks the hallway.
  
• We have 3 small air purifiers, I have now put 2 of them in our bedroom in hopes of trying to fix this situation.
  
• We recently had cleaners in to do a deep clean and get rid of as much dust as possible. It’s an old building, so there is more buildup of dust, but we have been really diligent lately with vacuuming, mopping, and dusting. The floors are laminate.
  
• I have a small snake plant I recently moved to the bedroom.
  
• I have a dehumidifier that I turn on occasionally to remove excess humidity, but it gives off heat so I don’t run it all the time.
  
• I recently got a hygrometer to measure the heat and humidity, it does get a bit humid in here, but it’s not terrible and I am keeping an eye on it so I can turn on the dehumidifier as needed.
  
• We live in something like a “garden level” where the apartment unit is half underground but we have large windows at street level all around the unit.
  
• What else can I do??? I was thinking about maybe something like an exhaust fan for the window but I don’t know if that would work and I feel ridiculous continually buying new things to try and fix this situation. I also worry that it will let in too much hot air or allergens. I also don’t have a lot of money for any expensive interventions, but I could ask my landlord if people have specific recommendations.
  

Any help is appreciated!

Apologies this is so long, but I really need help and wanted to contain as many details as possible.
I live in a 1 bedroom + den apartment, and the air quality in one room seems to be bad. I get the feeling that there isn’t as much oxygen in there, which I think is worse when myself and my partner are both sleeping in there and letting off CO2. I have often felt that I need to crack the window for fresh air, but currently it’s extremely hot where I live, there is a lot of pollution, and tons of pollen from the trees outside which exacerbates my partners asthma.
My partner has a lot more coughing and phlegm when he is in our bedroom specifically. Sometimes he sleeps on the couch in the living room because of this.
The apartment is all concrete with no air vents. The other rooms have very old windows, but our bedroom has a new and well-sealed window which I think could also contribute to the lack of ventilation in there. It’s also the only room that is completely enclosed, whereas the living room, kitchen and den/nursery are more open.
I’m looking for advice on what else we can do to improve the air quality in that room, I am 9 months pregnant and worried about the baby sleeping in there.
Here are some other details of the room set up and what we have tried.

• we have a portable AC unit in the living room, this is the hotter side of the apartment where the sun shines, so it’s usually hotter in there. We also have a fan directed at the bedroom door to try and circulate the cool air through the doorway, it somewhat cools the room but is an eyesore and blocks the hallway.
  
• We have 3 small air purifiers, I have now put 2 of them in our bedroom in hopes of trying to fix this situation.
  
• We recently had cleaners in to do a deep clean and get rid of as much dust as possible. It’s an old building, so there is more buildup of dust, but we have been really diligent lately with vacuuming, mopping, and dusting. The floors are laminate.
  
• I have a small snake plant I recently moved to the bedroom.
  
• I have a dehumidifier that I turn on occasionally to remove excess humidity, but it gives off heat so I don’t run it all the time.
  
• I recently got a hygrometer to measure the heat and humidity, it does get a bit humid in here, but it’s not terrible and I am keeping an eye on it so I can turn on the dehumidifier as needed.
  
• We live in something like a “garden level” where the apartment unit is half underground but we have large windows at street level all around the unit.
  
• What else can I do??? I was thinking about maybe something like an exhaust fan for the window but I don’t know if that would work and I feel ridiculous continually buying new things to try and fix this situation. I also worry that it will let in too much hot air or allergens. I also don’t have a lot of money for any expensive interventions.
  

Any help is appreciated!

I have a Dr appointment on Friday - so just looking for ideas of what could be the issue. Not just trying to internet diagnose. Baby is 11 weeks. Main concern is baby is only taking partial feeds and has fallen from 50th to 9th percentile so far for weight.
Initially baby was exclusively breastfed and same issues were present.
My baby often moves away from the bottle, arches his back, and gulps, gasps and you can hear bubbling inside his chest/stomach area. The HV and doctor, neither have watched him feed, both think reflux and he was tried with baby gaviscon but it caused him too much discomfort to continue with it. He often cries whilst we try to help him finish a bottle, and we often split up giving the bottle into effectively half feeds.
He does have hiccoughing, coughing and sneezing.
He burps well and doesn't mind being laid down after a feed.
But he consistently has a sort of raspy breathing after feeding, chokes on his saliva, and doesn't seem to remember to breath during feeds. He has a fairly weak neck but this is developing.
Does anyone know of any conditions that are more breathing related? As an alternative to the reflux idea.

DEMON
TIME
By Ringo Cross
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere deep in Romania...
There was no hope. There was no light. Salvation must be found elsewhere. Only darkness and the Dragon, feasted and festered here, upon the pitiful, sorrowful souls that screamed in utter damnation.
The underling who entered the cave gripped his chest and collapsed to his knees once he had reached the bowels of despair. The Dragon possessed evil like a mortal soul desperately clings to faith.
The terrified vampire trembled as he carefully reached for the handkerchief stuffed neatly in the front pocket of his suit coat. He coughed into it and was surprised to see that it was soaked in fresh blood.
Each breath was weak and overbearing. It felt like a massive vise-grip had squeezed down on his ribcage and refused to give an inch. Surely, he wouldn’t stay. He couldn’t be that zealous of a believer in the New Faith. His mind justified his suffering by clinging on to the hope that he wouldn’t have to stay here for too much longer. He did not want to end up like all the other souls who were forced to grace his ungodly presence.
His lips quivered when he went to speak. He almost made the mistake of uttering his name but stopped just short. “Thank God,” he muttered to himself in disbelief. God bless the souls brave enough to read this, less they succumb to the same wrathful fire.
The Dragon was surrounded by ceremonial candles that formed a perfect circle. He meditated in bleak hatred and longed for oppression. Damnation or divination, prophecy could be changed: “God’s throne is mine!”
Flame rose from his flesh, but he was unbothered by the withering agony. The sight was blasphemy. Unholy theophany opposite “the burning bush.” He sat menacingly and well-tempered like a blade forged in restless hellfire. He did not even bother to open his eyes as he waited for his trembling underling to speak.
There was no flame or pain in this life or hereafter that could match his demon. One slip of the tongue, and the fool before him would perish before he could blink. For he was the one who had led a rebellion. For he was the one who had taken all that was holy and tainted it.
The Dragon angled his head ever so slightly, away from the ethereal blaze. His tone plotted and deliberate, “You seek wisdom in the fire?”
“No! No, please, I-I don’t!”
“Then what is it you fear?”
“I... I... Oh God!”
“Seek. Every mortal utters his name out of instinct when they come to me.”
“F-Forgive me, my lord. I-I’ve come with news that the first phase of the awakening is complete. W-We will carry on with the next phase as ordered.”
“Speak now in the fire.”
“T-There is a slight problem.”
“My son?”
“N-No. N-Not him.”
“Then who?”
“The angels have taken interest in the one who helped him pass the trial.”
“Ah. The bard?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Hmm. In that case. Let us see what it is they see in this foolish mortal. Send one of my saplings.”
“As you wish.”
“Oh and, Sextus.”
“Y-Yes, my lord?”
“Disturb me again while I meditate, and I’ll scorch you like a soul in my Lake of Fire.”
“F-Forgive me, my lord.”
“Get out of my sight.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Two weeks later in Detroit...
I backed my BMW into the designated spot several minutes earlier than the meeting was supposed to start. I had been told to wait inside the car until one of the members of his gang came out to greet me.
I checked my watch a second and third time. Humph. Always trying to be perfect was nerve-racking. Sure, everything had gone as planned thus far, but you never know, especially with a situation as crazy as this. Crazy or not, things had to go right.
“Why did I even agree to do this?” I asked myself without thinking. I mean, I know why I agreed, but... tch, whatever. I guess asking myself stupid questions aloud was one of my many bad habits. “At least no one’s around to see you do it this time, Lizzy. Unlike the last time when you were out shopping with your benefactor, and you let slip that you considered her a blood sister,” I murmured to myself, irritatingly enough.
I flipped the visor down and focused on touching up my makeup instead of focusing on touching up my fractured nerves. Well, when I say “focus,” what I actually meant was nervously checked my eyeliner for a third and fourth time. I can’t believe this. Can’t even get my thoughts together, I thought to myself as I thought to myself how totally not right of a situation this was.
Just then an African American male, clad in urban wear from head to toe, approached my vehicle and gently tapped on the window. He laughed when I jumped. I blushed from the sheer embarrassment of having been frightened by a human. He found the odd role reversal amusing as well. After that, we had a brief but lighthearted exchange—confirming who he was and that I was indeed who I said I was.
Surprisingly, the man was a complete gentleman. He opened my door, was well-spoken, and extremely careful in his actions. He introduced himself under the alias of “Big Deal,” which confused me at first. Who knows. I guess it’s something urbanites did to protect their identity. Oh, and I complimented him on his choice of eyewear in an honest attempt to match his politeness.
He smiled and said thanks. Then he quickly threw in the not-so useful tidbit that his eyewear was Cartier. When I shrugged in innocent confusion, he tossed in the added fun fact that they were a very expensive brand of eyewear, oh and that he owned several pair.
He laughed under his breath when I shrugged again, obviously no less confused by what he was putting out in the ether. He opened the door to the strip club, and I was immediately hit square in the face by an avalanche of weed smoke, wild ruckus, rowdy music, and scantily clad dancers. The situation was less than ideal, but I had already been forewarned by my benefactor that dealing with this person would always be less than ideal.
I was gently guided to the last booth. It was all the way in the corner, far removed from the wildness and craziness that ensued around the stage. The booth was dark. Intuition told me that the person seated across from me was indeed the vampire I had come to meet.
I cleared my throat and said: “Greetings, Mr. Winters. My name is Elizabeth Carnot. You can call me Liz. I’m assuming you have a ‘moniker’?”
He looked over at the gentleman seated next to him and shook his head. Then he looked over at me and grinned. His blue eyes pierced through the darkness like an iceberg on a bitterly cold night. “Call me Icy.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say ‘Icy’?”
“Yeah-yeah, Icy. ‘ICY.’”
“Okay, Mr. Icy. I’m your liaison.”
“‘Mr. Icy?’ Hah. Stop playing.”
“What do you mean? I wasn’t—"
“Call me by my regular name.”
“Okay, and what’s that?”
“Tch. Jake Winters.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.”
He pointed to the man seated next to him and blurted out, “Yeah, this my hitter, King Tut.”
“Um. Greetings, Mr. King Tut.”
“Sup,” he replied with a nod.
The individual by the name of Big Deal, the one who escorted me inside, he stood next to his boss with folded arms. He checked his phone a few times and seemed uneasy. By the look of it, he had some influence in our dealings and must have been a high-ranking member of their gang. But I could be wrong. You never know with these types.
Seeing my confounded expression, their boss told me, “What’s up? Why’re you acting scared?”
“I’m sorry. Come again?” I asked.
“Never mind. All I gotta do is sign some papers, right?” he asked in an irritated tone.
I placed my briefcase on the table, snapped it open, and told him, “Yeah. Give me a minute. I just need to gather the necessary documents.”
“These folks and their paperwork,” Mr. Winters told his counterpart seated next to him.
“You already know how they get down, boss,” Big Deal chimed in while patiently standing by.
“Hell yeah,” he shot back at his gang comrade before turning his attention back to me. He studied me carefully and rather rudely for a moment longer than I would’ve liked before finally asking, “What’s your name again?”
“Elizabeth Carnot.”
“You seem familiar.”
“I do?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m sure I would have remembered if we met.”
“Nah. Not you. Your dad. His name’s Philip, right?”
“Why as a matter of fact, yes. He’s employed as a factor for my benefactors.”
“Yeah. I can see the resemblance. Tell the old geezer I said, ‘Sup,’ when you see him.”
“Sure,” I smirked before looking around the place. “We couldn’t have done this anywhere else?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“I grew up in dem strips. My bruthers couldn’t tell me nothing. So naturally you couldn’t.”
“Okay...” I uttered not knowing what else to say.
“All you Báthory folk the same.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Dingy than a mother bleep. You remind me of old girl. I bet my Muller you know her.”
“You mean the countess?”
“Yeah. The ditz.”
“Yes. I know her.”
“Bet that up,” he said before adjusting his diamond studded watch, relieved at the fact that he didn’t have to part ways with it even though I had no idea what I was going to do with it other than stash it in one of the shelves in our museum’s storage room.
Humph. Who knows. Maybe he’ll die soon, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility, considering his reckless lifestyle. In that case, his watch could become one of our more “darker possessions,” I secretly hoped.
“Damn,” Big Deal murmured as he looked at his phone in dismay. His sudden uneasiness was very distracting. For a moment there, I thought something was wrong. He quietly and quickly fielded a call. Then he tapped his boss on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
Mr. Winters looked up at him in exasperation. He just shook his head and was like, “Another one?”
“Yup,” he solemnly replied.
Their boss brought his hands together and gathered his thoughts before coolly saying, “I know who it is getting at my spots, but I can’t prove it.”
“The Cash Cowboyz?” Big Deal asked.
“Man. Hell nah. I put that on the bros,” Mr. Winters vehemently replied to his underling. “Them bleeps tissue paper. If it wasn’t for her benefactor, we would’ve been stepped all over ‘em with the bros.”
Big Deal nodded, “Right. Yeah. Somebody with some juice putting in some serious work.”
“You good, Tut?” Jake asked.
“Meh. I was just thinking.”
“What’s on your mind, bro?”
“It’s strange... when I went to take out Martel after he murked Terrance... I don’t know boss... Something was off about the whole thing. I can’t put my finger on it, but we ain’t never found Terrance body, plus the guys keep saying he ain’t dead. That he came back as something. Something that ain’t human, or vampire, or whatever.”
“That’s the word in the streets, huh?” Mr. Winters asked him with a hint of anger.
“Yeah. I keep hearing rumors, too. I don’t know how true they are,” Big Deal threw in.
Tut chimed back in with the solemn statement, “Well. If it is him. I got a feeling he’s working for her benefactor. You know how the Illuminati move. They always trying to stay ahead of the game.”
“Word,” Jake nodded.
“What’s the move, boss? How far you willing to take it?” Big Deal asked very gingerly.
“How many spots got knocked?”
“Three so far.”
“Is that true?”
“Yup,” Tut confirmed.
“Bleep. I’m willing to take it all the way. Just cause they on demon time, don’t mean I can’t be on demon time. I ain’t giving up my spots for nobody.”
“Just think about it,” Deal chimed in.
“Here you go about to play Gandhi.”
“I’m saying. We might not be making as much dealing exclusively to vampires but it’s safer. After we ink this deal, we got a monopoly on all the blood dens. You know them fools own more than just Detroit, right?”
“Is that true?” Jake asked me.
“That is correct,” I nodded.
“Dang. What all they got?”
“Boss, I’m telling you, they laid. Man. Tch. They got Chicago, Toronto, Ohio, Minn, Wisconn, and some other satellite spots,” Big Deal explained.
“Damn, he for real?” he asked me.
“He is indeed correct,” I said with a smirk. “The only territorial dispute I know of is with the Windsor vampire order, over the territory of Toronto.”
“William’s sweet ass getting it like that?!” he asked me again with even more shock.
“You mean my benefactors?”
“Yeah. Him and his fiancée.”
“Well, I don’t know what you mean by ‘sweet,’ but yes, they have it ‘like that,’ as you put it.”
“Dude think he slick,” Jake groaned.
“Mm-hm. It’s probably him, trying to knock us off the block,” Tut replied after some thought.
“What’d you think we should do?” Jake asked the homie Big Deal, hoping against hope he had an answer instead of another irksome, nonchalant response.
He shrugged before further chagrining his boss by telling him, “I think we should leave it alone.”
“You supposed to be my captain, not the bleep who preaches peace every time I ask you for your two cents. Martin Luther King wannabe ass bleep.”
“Bleep you,” he replied back.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Hold on for a sec,” Jake said before signaling for one of his gang goons over by the bar. He came over and quickly passed him a blunt that was stuffed with what had to be marijuana. Jake wasted no time. He took a stupidly long toke before passing to Tut, who did the same thing before passing it back. Then Mr. Winters took another ignorantly long toke before offering me a hit.
When I politely declined, he called me a ‘lame ass white chick,’ which I found incredibly offensive, considering he was Caucasian too. So, for him to insult me like that was crass to say the least. My mind couldn’t help but wonder. Why was my clan making a deal with some thoughtless churl? To be fair, foreign affairs wasn’t exactly my department. Only reason I agreed to this was because our emissary was away on urgent business, and this “all-important” arrangement couldn’t wait.
Suddenly, the DJ made an announcement. He thanked Jake and his gang for the mountain of money they laid down on his workstation. The club atmosphere was instantly rejuvenated as soon as he mixed one of Mr. Winter’s songs. I couldn’t believe my ears. His lyrics were invective, classless, senseless, tasteless, and worst of all, stuffed with baseless Illuminati accusations.
Jake threw up the set and took another hit from the fattest marijuana blunt I had ever seen. Then he whistled at his gang underlings near the stage before flashing the set again. They responded by throwing that bleep back, and then tossing a flurry of cash onstage until it was blurry. He slouched in his seat and watched the thuggery unfold like a proud dad. The arrogant thug couldn’t help himself. He had to mumble the lyrics under his breath:
“They said a white bleep couldn’t make it. Now the streets hot, cause all I do is bake it. Ain’t just get even wid it—went and got sadistic wid it. Wholesale dope flows! Yeah! Fiends know I really get it. Yeah! My bleep mad cause I don’t really need her, rap career just went solar. Don’t pay her no mind, she bipolar. Sold hope to the kids and dope to they mommas.
“Went from sliming in the slums to packed shows and packing plenty sums. Took a heavy loss and turned my demon on. Burn the streets up and got right back on. If the pack strong, you ain’t doing it wrong. I’m hopping off the porch with this fent all day long.
“Bandz ah make her dance, so I get plenty. Gunz ah make him dance so we pack many. I was dead and gone, but now I’m undead and standing all on my own. Tell them Cowboyz aim for the head if we foes, instead of doing it with their eyes closed like some street hoes. All these drugs get shipped in different zip codes. Rubbers bands on rubber bands—next to barcodes on barcodes.
“My angel said, ‘don’t do it.’ My demon said, ‘you better prove it.’ Linked up with the Illuminati just to keep chuggin’. Ten years slangin,’ and I’m still thuggin.’ Hell yeah, that savage in me still showing. What happened to gangster rap? That bleep ain’t growing. All these bleeps talk about is getting geeked-up. Stay strapped up—ain’t getting set-up by no foes. Sonic rings keep me banked-up on zeros. Stay trapped-up—call me ‘Scarface.’ Don’t get poured out like syrup. ‘Say goodnight to the bad guy,’ we ain’t no role models or heroes.
“I might be a white boy but I’m that bleep. Blood Gang tell I die we get figures. Got my money the wrong way, so why do it the right way? Gang in my blood until I tilt over. Pour some dark out for my dead homies—bleep it! Let that bleep spill over.
“Whole family died for diss American dream. Things ain’t exactly what they seem. Yeah, I’m serving whipped cream. Look at da flicka da wrist—still serving dem fiends. Chopped and screwed the white—3-6 Mafia. Demon time when I’m flickin’ da dope. New drug same flick as whipping coke. Diss that real bleep for dem real bleeps. This that jungle music for my silverback gorillas. This that murder music for my true killers. Ain’t no foe of mines—walking-me-down. Ain’t no chick of mines—talking-me-down.”
The beat transformed into something elegant and undead. When this odd transition transpired, the strip club exploded into a crescendo of undeserving cheers. It was all too much for me. Quite an uncomfortable spectacle I had few words for. I was just happy that he finally stopped rapping to his own song and at least let this new set of foulmouthed lyrics speak for themselves:
“Even though I’m a vampire and I got this new thirst, yeah, the money forever and always come first. Yeah! If I die, bleep it. Yeah! I lived a fast life, and I loved it. Yeah! Pour some white Henny out for my set. Yeah! We stay on that demonic bleep. Hell yeah! Bleep with us and get yo shed split. Hell yeah! Oh yeah, I came from the gutter like no other. Yeah! Beat hit like my switch kickback. Yeah! Used to get my hands dirty, now I just kick back. I’m a boss—but I still got that 21 Savage.
I’m ah do this gang bleep until die. If they saying, ‘I can’t go get it’ they a lie. Always throw my set up when I ride. Illuminati on my mother bleeping side. Money ain’t enough I need that blood. All this drug money in da strip club. Throw diss blood money in the feds face. They ain’t got no graves, they ain’t got no case.
“Always look your enemy in the eye. Cause if they flinch you know they afraid to die. Always cut your dope with some chems. Always step on the pack and make M&M’s. Always keep a mother bleeping scrap on your side.
“I’m geeked up. Geeked up. Yeah! I’m geeked up! Geeked up! Drugs got me high as a mug right now. White Henny in my cup got me geeked right now. She say her man at home—you know we ran game on her. Blood gang chain gang—you know we ran a train on her. This ain’t (Young) Jeezy, this that drug dealing white boy who make it look easy.”
“That jones go hard,” Tut remarked.
“Hell yeah it do,” Jake said before passing the blunt back to him. “Damn, bro, old girl, got a wagon.”
“Hell yeah she do,” Big Deal agreed.
“What’s her name?” Jake asked.
“Carnation,” Big Deal said.
“Carnation?” he asked again.
“Yes, sir,” Big Deal replied.
“Hey, Liz?” Jake said.
“Yes?” I politely replied.
“Can we speed this nonsense up? I’m trying to get on old girl with the wagon.”
“Nonsense?” I repeated.
“Yeah. I been gave y’all my word we good. I ain’t with all this extra nonsense.”
“Sure, one second.”
“Stop acting petty,” he told me, before having the nerve to offer me the joint.
I was a bit dumbfounded and offended by the offer and let slip, “Psst. As if.”
Big Deal tapped his boss on the shoulder and told him, “The little bros wanna be like the big bros. They’re asking for some paper to throw at the strippers.”
Their boss tapped the blunt a few times and chuckled under his breath before asking, “Oh yeah?”
“Hell yeah.”
“How much?”
“10 racks.”
“Tch. That’s it?”
“Yes, sir. Ten.”
“Give them fools 40.”
“You sure about that? Them young bleeps? You know they ain’t used to living like that.”
“They gotta learn one day.”
“Bet. I’ll make the call.”
“Um, I know it’s none of my business, but do you think it’s a good idea to close this deal, in particular, while under the influence?” I cautiously asked. When I looked down, I noticed my hand was gripping the edge of the table as if I was afraid my inquiry would spark his ire.
“I see you’re in your feelings.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Um. No.”
“You ain’t never met a real bleep, huh?”
“Excuse me?” I asked a bit incredulous.
“Nah seriously. On Devil. A lot of y’all ain’t never been around no real bleep for real. I bet that bleep hit different, don’t it? Go head. Say I’m lying.”
“You’re not a... humph. Never mind. Most people like you are locked up you know.”
“Or dead,” he added.
“That too,” I agreed.
“Yeah, but I ain’t.”
His gang partner, Tut, chimed in with, “You ain’t just ain’t. You took that bleep somewhere else. That’s on the guys.” He raised the pharaoh pendant to his gold chain and kissed it for good measure. Then he tapped the blunt one more time before passing it back. “The world is yours, boss. Put on for the (dead) homies.”
“Hell yeah,” Jake replied.
“How?” I asked.
“How what?” he asked back.
“How are you not dead?”
“Strength,” he stated.
“Really? That’s it.”
“Yeah. It’s the only thing that matters in this world. Without it, you got nothing.” He paused and hit the blunt before throwing in, “You know how many times I almost died? I’m stronger for it not weaker.”
“How many times have you?”
“What? Almost died?” he asked.
“Yeah. How many?” I asked again.
“Pfft. Death is my best friend.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Me and that bleep go way back.”
“That’s a very negative thing to say.”
“You don’t know bleep about the gutta.”
Taken aback, I politely told him, “Wow. Okay. Candor isn’t exactly something you shy away from.”
He leaned forward and offered me the blunt yet again. I saw his face a little better in the light. Damn was he easy on the eyes. A little too easy for someone who had such an ugly personality. His eyes were so blue and his skin soft as the clouds. The vampire blood that coursed through his veins had really did a number on him. Of course, I would never tell him that. He was already cocksure enough. Oh, and crude too.
Speaking of which, his crudeness quickly reminded me why it was folly to think nice things about him. No matter how many pretty bones he had in his body, he was still an unpleasant ruffian without a polite bone.
“Stop playing, gurl. The leaf ain’t gon’ smoke itself. And I already know how y’all rich vampires affiliated with the Illuminati get down.”
I gave in and told him “Sure, why not,” just so I wouldn’t come off as hostile or ‘lame’ as he liked to put it. I took one small drag and began to cough wildly. After I cleared my throat, I reminded him that, “We’re not the Illuminati” and that, “He watched too many movies.”
“What do you call it then?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A cabal of wicked ass vampires, with demons over everything, hellbent on taking over the world. And I ain’t talking about no harebrained Pinky and the Brain scheme. Nah. You guys is standing on business. You the one who watch too many movies if you think this ain’t Illuminati.”
“You’re very well informed.”
“I see you didn’t deny it.”
“Heard about what you did.”
“What’d I do this time?”
“You know ‘the fight.’”
“Oh. That’s old news.”
“Very cocky of you.”
“We took down a fallen angel. Why wouldn’t I be cocky after that? What’s the fool’s name? You know. The ashes me and your ‘benefactor’ smoking on.”
“Lord Jurael,” I answered.
“Yeah. That punk ass bleep. When you see him, ask him how his vacay in hell was.”
“Um. No thanks. I value my life too much to do that. And I don’t know if you know this or not, but yeah. He was kind of messing around with you guys. It was a test. And apparently you passed. Congrats.”
He threw up a gang sign and said, “Yeah, well tell him to get at me one on one next time. I was still fresh off the transformation when we tangled the first time. Tell all three of them bums to get at me. William, aka, your ‘benefactor,’ and that sneaky ass ninja-vampire, he always beefing with, he can get it too.”
“You have no shame.”
“Zero.”
“Wow.”
“I’m fresh out the mud. I put that on my bros. I put that on my dead brother.”
“I’m surprised my benefactor would associate himself with someone like you.”
“Enough with that. Stop calling old dude your ‘benefactor.’ We all know who you’re talking about. You’re talking about William’s punk ass.”
“I know. And I would but...”
“Sup? Cat got your tongue?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s bad luck to say his name.”
“Here we go with that devil speak.”
“It’s true you know. His father is—”
“Mannnn... gone somewhere with all that nonsense. You snobby vampires and your superstitions. I came from the fire, I know a demon when I see one, and he might be a son of a bleep, but he ain’t no son of a—"
He stopped mid affront to swat a fly that had landed on his arm. When the same fly hovered over his head, he went off on the establishment, “What kind of country ass bullbleep?! Flies flying around this dirty bleep!”
“You guys smell that?” I asked.
“Smell what?” Tut asked.
“Huh. It almost smells carrion.”
“Carry-onion? What that mean?” Tut asked Big Deal.
Big Deal smirked and responded with, “Sorry, ma’am. We’re human. You and the boss man are the only ones here who got a supernatural sense of smell.”
Their boss chimed in with: “I think you’re right. It does smell like a dead body. I should know, I’ve smelt plenty of—dammit!” he angrily cursed and swatted at another fly before he could finish his thoughts.
“You good, boss?” Tut asked.
“Go get the manager, homie.”
“I’m on it,” Big Deal said.
Before he could take off and do his boss’ bidding, a rush of panic hit the establishment. The ladies dressed in skimpy clothing screamed. The gangsters hollered at the thing that shuffled through the front door. The night went from zero to one hundred just like that. As if God had snapped his ethereal fingers. Fright and pandemonium swept through the room like a contagion. And the odor, ugh! So horrible, it made me sick to my stomach.
Our table was positioned at the worst angle. It was hopeless. No matter how much I glanced around, I couldn’t confirm my terrible suspicion. I flopped down in my chair and folded my arms in disgust. Great. As if this meeting could get any worse, I thought to myself. My sorrowful display was short lived. I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I could have remained in the dark. Ignorance would have been a boon to my frayed nerves.
King Tut jumped from his seat and placed his hand on his weapon. He hesitated when he realized that it was one of their gang brothers. Not only was it one of the “bros,” but I could tell it was someone he was close too. His sudden expression of dismay made it clear that fate had stepped in and dealt him a cruel blow.
The poor wretch defied the laws of nature and good taste as he shambled over towards us at a speed slightly quicker than death while looking like he was at least already halfway there. There was no question he had paid for his sins in spades. For he was caked in flies from head to toe. And the smell... oh my, was it as wretched and repulsive as the sight. It was a stench that made me afraid to gasp. So unbearable and pungent to the senses, it was offensive even to those not easily offended by such things as the sour smell of a cadaver.
This rotting corpse of a once proud young man collapsed to his knees as soon as he reached our table. Then, as if that wasn’t excruciating and exonerating enough of a fate, he just stared at their boss but said nothing. I swear. The whole thing would have felt contrived if it wasn’t so agonizing to watch. It was like his suffering was a macabre scene that had been cherrypicked right out of a horror movie by a cruel director.
Jake’s reaction was as unflinching and coldhearted as it’ll ever get. He placed his hand over Tut’s arm and told him to “chill” before he drew his weapon in a fit of rage. Then he stared grimly at their suffering gang brother and coldly asked, “What’s up, lil homie?”
It was indescribable, to see flies covering every inch of his body like that. It was impossible to tell if he was alive, dead, or somewhere in between. Either way, the one thing that was for sure was that he had suffered. I could tell just by his deathly gaze.
A cluster of flies crawled from his mouth. Every twitch of the cheek looked agonizing and disgusting beyond measure. His throat buckled to the will of the insects as if some unseen puppeteer manipulated his vocal cords like invisible strings. I prayed that he was indeed dead. Because as convincing and reanimating of a performance as this was, it was still more distressing than fascinating. The worst part was the voice that escaped. It was this broken shrill of a thing filled with torment:
“Jake, Jake, Jake. Come out and play. The moon doth shine as bright as day. Leave your supper and leave your sleep behind. Come to me, your playfellow, into the streets. I’ll wait for you on the other side.”
“Who the bleep are you?” Jake asked.
“Heh. Are you afraid?”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Will you? Come out and play? Or do I have to turn more of your friends into my playthings?”
Jake ordered Big Deal and King Tut to keep everyone inside. He was about to tell me to do the same, but I quickly insisted on going with him. Uh-uh. My benefactor would’ve killed me if I played it safe and reported back to him emptyhanded. Okay. Maybe “kill” is a bit extreme. He was polite and gentlemanly enough, neither had he ever shown any outward signs of hostility towards me, but I wasn’t about to give him any reason whatsoever to start. If I had any doubts on what to do, my choice was made crystal clear by one overarching thought: even though I absolutely feared whatever fate awaited me outside, I feared the demonic wrath of my benefactor a whole lot more.

DEMON
TIME
By Ringo Cross
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere deep in Romania...
There was no hope. There was no light. Salvation must be found elsewhere. Only darkness and the Dragon, feasted and festered here, upon the pitiful, sorrowful souls that screamed in utter damnation.
The underling who entered the cave gripped his chest and collapsed to his knees once he had reached the bowels of despair. The Dragon possessed evil like a mortal soul desperately clings to faith.
The terrified vampire trembled as he carefully reached for the handkerchief stuffed neatly in the front pocket of his suit coat. He coughed into it and was surprised to see that it was soaked in fresh blood.
Each breath was weak and overbearing. It felt like a massive vise-grip had squeezed down on his ribcage and refused to give an inch. Surely, he wouldn’t stay. He couldn’t be that zealous of a believer in the New Faith. His mind justified his suffering by clinging on to the hope that he wouldn’t have to stay here for too much longer. He did not want to end up like all the other souls who were forced to grace his ungodly presence.
His lips quivered when he went to speak. He almost made the mistake of uttering his name but stopped just short. “Thank God,” he muttered to himself in disbelief. God bless the souls brave enough to read this, less they succumb to the same wrathful fire.
The Dragon was surrounded by ceremonial candles that formed a perfect circle. He meditated in bleak hatred and longed for oppression. Damnation or divination, prophecy could be changed: “God’s throne is mine!”
Flame rose from his flesh, but he was unbothered by the withering agony. The sight was blasphemy. Unholy theophany opposite “the burning bush.” He sat menacingly and well-tempered like a blade forged in restless hellfire. He did not even bother to open his eyes as he waited for his trembling underling to speak.
There was no flame or pain in this life or hereafter that could match his demon. One slip of the tongue, and the fool before him would perish before he could blink. For he was the one who had led a rebellion. For he was the one who had taken all that was holy and tainted it.
The Dragon angled his head ever so slightly, away from the ethereal blaze. His tone plotted and deliberate, “You seek wisdom in the fire?”
“No! No, please, I-I don’t!”
“Then what is it you fear?”
“I... I... Oh God!”
“Seek. Every mortal utters his name out of instinct when they come to me.”
“F-Forgive me, my lord. I-I’ve come with news that the first phase of the awakening is complete. W-We will carry on with the next phase as ordered.”
“Speak now in the fire.”
“T-There is a slight problem.”
“My son?”
“N-No. N-Not him.”
“Then who?”
“The angels have taken interest in the one who helped him pass the trial.”
“Ah. The bard?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Hmm. In that case. Let us see what it is they see in this foolish mortal. Send one of my saplings.”
“As you wish.”
“Oh and, Sextus.”
“Y-Yes, my lord?”
“Disturb me again while I meditate, and I’ll scorch you like a soul in my Lake of Fire.”
“F-Forgive me, my lord.”
“Get out of my sight.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Two weeks later in Detroit...
I backed my BMW into the designated spot several minutes earlier than the meeting was supposed to start. I had been told to wait inside the car until one of the members of his gang came out to greet me.
I checked my watch a second and third time. Humph. Always trying to be perfect was nerve-racking. Sure, everything had gone as planned thus far, but you never know, especially with a situation as crazy as this. Crazy or not, things had to go right.
“Why did I even agree to do this?” I asked myself without thinking. I mean, I know why I agreed, but... tch, whatever. I guess asking myself stupid questions aloud was one of my many bad habits. “At least no one’s around to see you do it this time, Lizzy. Unlike the last time when you were out shopping with your benefactor, and you let slip that you considered her a blood sister,” I murmured to myself, irritatingly enough.
I flipped the visor down and focused on touching up my makeup instead of focusing on touching up my fractured nerves. Well, when I say “focus,” what I actually meant was nervously checked my eyeliner for a third and fourth time. I can’t believe this. Can’t even get my thoughts together, I thought to myself as I thought to myself how totally not right of a situation this was.
Just then an African American male, clad in urban wear from head to toe, approached my vehicle and gently tapped on the window. He laughed when I jumped. I blushed from the sheer embarrassment of having been frightened by a human. He found the odd role reversal amusing as well. After that, we had a brief but lighthearted exchange—confirming who he was and that I was indeed who I said I was.
Surprisingly, the man was a complete gentleman. He opened my door, was well-spoken, and extremely careful in his actions. He introduced himself under the alias of “Big Deal,” which confused me at first. Who knows. I guess it’s something urbanites did to protect their identity. Oh, and I complimented him on his choice of eyewear in an honest attempt to match his politeness.
He smiled and said thanks. Then he quickly threw in the not-so useful tidbit that his eyewear was Cartier. When I shrugged in innocent confusion, he tossed in the added fun fact that they were a very expensive brand of eyewear, oh and that he owned several pair.
He laughed under his breath when I shrugged again, obviously no less confused by what he was putting out in the ether. He opened the door to the strip club, and I was immediately hit square in the face by an avalanche of weed smoke, wild ruckus, rowdy music, and scantily clad dancers. The situation was less than ideal, but I had already been forewarned by my benefactor that dealing with this person would always be less than ideal.
I was gently guided to the last booth. It was all the way in the corner, far removed from the wildness and craziness that ensued around the stage. The booth was dark. Intuition told me that the person seated across from me was indeed the vampire I had come to meet.
I cleared my throat and said: “Greetings, Mr. Winters. My name is Elizabeth Carnot. You can call me Liz. I’m assuming you have a ‘moniker’?”
He looked over at the gentleman seated next to him and shook his head. Then he looked over at me and grinned. His blue eyes pierced through the darkness like an iceberg on a bitterly cold night. “Call me Icy.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say ‘Icy’?”
“Yeah-yeah, Icy. ‘ICY.’”
“Okay, Mr. Icy. I’m your liaison.”
“‘Mr. Icy?’ Hah. Stop playing.”
“What do you mean? I wasn’t—"
“Call me by my regular name.”
“Okay, and what’s that?”
“Tch. Jake Winters.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.”
He pointed to the man seated next to him and blurted out, “Yeah, this my hitter, King Tut.”
“Um. Greetings, Mr. King Tut.”
“Sup,” he replied with a nod.
The individual by the name of Big Deal, the one who escorted me inside, he stood next to his boss with folded arms. He checked his phone a few times and seemed uneasy. By the look of it, he had some influence in our dealings and must have been a high-ranking member of their gang. But I could be wrong. You never know with these types.
Seeing my confounded expression, their boss told me, “What’s up? Why’re you acting scared?”
“I’m sorry. Come again?” I asked.
“Never mind. All I gotta do is sign some papers, right?” he asked in an irritated tone.
I placed my briefcase on the table, snapped it open, and told him, “Yeah. Give me a minute. I just need to gather the necessary documents.”
“These folks and their paperwork,” Mr. Winters told his counterpart seated next to him.
“You already know how they get down, boss,” Big Deal chimed in while patiently standing by.
“Hell yeah,” he shot back at his gang comrade before turning his attention back to me. He studied me carefully and rather rudely for a moment longer than I would’ve liked before finally asking, “What’s your name again?”
“Elizabeth Carnot.”
“You seem familiar.”
“I do?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m sure I would have remembered if we met.”
“Nah. Not you. Your dad. His name’s Philip, right?”
“Why as a matter of fact, yes. He’s employed as a factor for my benefactors.”
“Yeah. I can see the resemblance. Tell the old geezer I said, ‘Sup,’ when you see him.”
“Sure,” I smirked before looking around the place. “We couldn’t have done this anywhere else?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“I grew up in dem strips. My bruthers couldn’t tell me nothing. So naturally you couldn’t.”
“Okay...” I uttered not knowing what else to say.
“All you Báthory folk the same.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Dingy than a mother bleep. You remind me of old girl. I bet my Muller you know her.”
“You mean the countess?”
“Yeah. The ditz.”
“Yes. I know her.”
“Bet that up,” he said before adjusting his diamond studded watch, relieved at the fact that he didn’t have to part ways with it even though I had no idea what I was going to do with it other than stash it in one of the shelves in our museum’s storage room.
Humph. Who knows. Maybe he’ll die soon, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility, considering his reckless lifestyle. In that case, his watch could become one of our more “darker possessions,” I secretly hoped.
“Damn,” Big Deal murmured as he looked at his phone in dismay. His sudden uneasiness was very distracting. For a moment there, I thought something was wrong. He quietly and quickly fielded a call. Then he tapped his boss on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
Mr. Winters looked up at him in exasperation. He just shook his head and was like, “Another one?”
“Yup,” he solemnly replied.
Their boss brought his hands together and gathered his thoughts before coolly saying, “I know who it is getting at my spots, but I can’t prove it.”
“The Cash Cowboyz?” Big Deal asked.
“Man. Hell nah. I put that on the bros,” Mr. Winters vehemently replied to his underling. “Them bleeps tissue paper. If it wasn’t for her benefactor, we would’ve been stepped all over ‘em with the bros.”
Big Deal nodded, “Right. Yeah. Somebody with some juice putting in some serious work.”
“You good, Tut?” Jake asked.
“Meh. I was just thinking.”
“What’s on your mind, bro?”
“It’s strange... when I went to take out Martel after he murked Terrance... I don’t know boss... Something was off about the whole thing. I can’t put my finger on it, but we ain’t never found Terrance body, plus the guys keep saying he ain’t dead. That he came back as something. Something that ain’t human, or vampire, or whatever.”
“That’s the word in the streets, huh?” Mr. Winters asked him with a hint of anger.
“Yeah. I keep hearing rumors, too. I don’t know how true they are,” Big Deal threw in.
Tut chimed back in with the solemn statement, “Well. If it is him. I got a feeling he’s working for her benefactor. You know how the Illuminati move. They always trying to stay ahead of the game.”
“Word,” Jake nodded.
“What’s the move, boss? How far you willing to take it?” Big Deal asked very gingerly.
“How many spots got knocked?”
“Three so far.”
“Is that true?”
“Yup,” Tut confirmed.
“Bleep. I’m willing to take it all the way. Just cause they on demon time, don’t mean I can’t be on demon time. I ain’t giving up my spots for nobody.”
“Just think about it,” Deal chimed in.
“Here you go about to play Gandhi.”
“I’m saying. We might not be making as much dealing exclusively to vampires but it’s safer. After we ink this deal, we got a monopoly on all the blood dens. You know them fools own more than just Detroit, right?”
“Is that true?” Jake asked me.
“That is correct,” I nodded.
“Dang. What all they got?”
“Boss, I’m telling you, they laid. Man. Tch. They got Chicago, Toronto, Ohio, Minn, Wisconn, and some other satellite spots,” Big Deal explained.
“Damn, he for real?” he asked me.
“He is indeed correct,” I said with a smirk. “The only territorial dispute I know of is with the Windsor vampire order, over the territory of Toronto.”
“William’s sweet ass getting it like that?!” he asked me again with even more shock.
“You mean my benefactors?”
“Yeah. Him and his fiancée.”
“Well, I don’t know what you mean by ‘sweet,’ but yes, they have it ‘like that,’ as you put it.”
“Dude think he slick,” Jake groaned.
“Mm-hm. It’s probably him, trying to knock us off the block,” Tut replied after some thought.
“What’d you think we should do?” Jake asked the homie Big Deal, hoping against hope he had an answer instead of another irksome, nonchalant response.
He shrugged before further chagrining his boss by telling him, “I think we should leave it alone.”
“You supposed to be my captain, not the bleep who preaches peace every time I ask you for your two cents. Martin Luther King wannabe ass bleep.”
“Bleep you,” he replied back.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Hold on for a sec,” Jake said before signaling for one of his gang goons over by the bar. He came over and quickly passed him a blunt that was stuffed with what had to be marijuana. Jake wasted no time. He took a stupidly long toke before passing to Tut, who did the same thing before passing it back. Then Mr. Winters took another ignorantly long toke before offering me a hit.
When I politely declined, he called me a ‘lame ass white chick,’ which I found incredibly offensive, considering he was Caucasian too. So, for him to insult me like that was crass to say the least. My mind couldn’t help but wonder. Why was my clan making a deal with some thoughtless churl? To be fair, foreign affairs wasn’t exactly my department. Only reason I agreed to this was because our emissary was away on urgent business, and this “all-important” arrangement couldn’t wait.
Suddenly, the DJ made an announcement. He thanked Jake and his gang for the mountain of money they laid down on his workstation. The club atmosphere was instantly rejuvenated as soon as he mixed one of Mr. Winter’s songs. I couldn’t believe my ears. His lyrics were invective, classless, senseless, tasteless, and worst of all, stuffed with baseless Illuminati accusations.
Jake threw up the set and took another hit from the fattest marijuana blunt I had ever seen. Then he whistled at his gang underlings near the stage before flashing the set again. They responded by throwing that bleep back, and then tossing a flurry of cash onstage until it was blurry. He slouched in his seat and watched the thuggery unfold like a proud dad. The arrogant thug couldn’t help himself. He had to mumble the lyrics under his breath:
“They said a white bleep couldn’t make it. Now the streets hot, cause all I do is bake it. Ain’t just get even wid it—went and got sadistic wid it. Wholesale dope flows! Yeah! Fiends know I really get it. Yeah! My bleep mad cause I don’t really need her, rap career just went solar. Don’t pay her no mind, she bipolar. Sold hope to the kids and dope to they mommas.
“Went from sliming in the slums to packed shows and packing plenty sums. Took a heavy loss and turned my demon on. Burn the streets up and got right back on. If the pack strong, you ain’t doing it wrong. I’m hopping off the porch with this fent all day long.
“Bandz ah make her dance, so I get plenty. Gunz ah make him dance so we pack many. I was dead and gone, but now I’m undead and standing all on my own. Tell them Cowboyz aim for the head if we foes, instead of doing it with their eyes closed like some street hoes. All these drugs get shipped in different zip codes. Rubbers bands on rubber bands—next to barcodes on barcodes.
“My angel said, ‘don’t do it.’ My demon said, ‘you better prove it.’ Linked up with the Illuminati just to keep chuggin’. Ten years slangin,’ and I’m still thuggin.’ Hell yeah, that savage in me still showing. What happened to gangster rap? That bleep ain’t growing. All these bleeps talk about is getting geeked-up. Stay strapped up—ain’t getting set-up by no foes. Sonic rings keep me banked-up on zeros. Stay trapped-up—call me ‘Scarface.’ Don’t get poured out like syrup. ‘Say goodnight to the bad guy,’ we ain’t no role models or heroes.
“I might be a white boy but I’m that bleep. Blood Gang tell I die we get figures. Got my money the wrong way, so why do it the right way? Gang in my blood until I tilt over. Pour some dark out for my dead homies—bleep it! Let that bleep spill over.
“Whole family died for diss American dream. Things ain’t exactly what they seem. Yeah, I’m serving whipped cream. Look at da flicka da wrist—still serving dem fiends. Chopped and screwed the white—3-6 Mafia. Demon time when I’m flickin’ da dope. New drug same flick as whipping coke. Diss that real bleep for dem real bleeps. This that jungle music for my silverback gorillas. This that murder music for my true killers. Ain’t no foe of mines—walking-me-down. Ain’t no chick of mines—talking-me-down.”
The beat transformed into something elegant and undead. When this odd transition transpired, the strip club exploded into a crescendo of undeserving cheers. It was all too much for me. Quite an uncomfortable spectacle I had few words for. I was just happy that he finally stopped rapping to his own song and at least let this new set of foulmouthed lyrics speak for themselves:
“Even though I’m a vampire and I got this new thirst, yeah, the money forever and always come first. Yeah! If I die, bleep it. Yeah! I lived a fast life, and I loved it. Yeah! Pour some white Henny out for my set. Yeah! We stay on that demonic bleep. Hell yeah! Bleep with us and get yo shed split. Hell yeah! Oh yeah, I came from the gutter like no other. Yeah! Beat hit like my switch kickback. Yeah! Used to get my hands dirty, now I just kick back. I’m a boss—but I still got that 21 Savage.
I’m ah do this gang bleep until die. If they saying, ‘I can’t go get it’ they a lie. Always throw my set up when I ride. Illuminati on my mother bleeping side. Money ain’t enough I need that blood. All this drug money in da strip club. Throw diss blood money in the feds face. They ain’t got no graves, they ain’t got no case.
“Always look your enemy in the eye. Cause if they flinch you know they afraid to die. Always cut your dope with some chems. Always step on the pack and make M&M’s. Always keep a mother bleeping scrap on your side.
“I’m geeked up. Geeked up. Yeah! I’m geeked up! Geeked up! Drugs got me high as a mug right now. White Henny in my cup got me geeked right now. She say her man at home—you know we ran game on her. Blood gang chain gang—you know we ran a train on her. This ain’t (Young) Jeezy, this that drug dealing white boy who make it look easy.”
“That jones go hard,” Tut remarked.
“Hell yeah it do,” Jake said before passing the blunt back to him. “Damn, bro, old girl, got a wagon.”
“Hell yeah she do,” Big Deal agreed.
“What’s her name?” Jake asked.
“Carnation,” Big Deal said.
“Carnation?” he asked again.
“Yes, sir,” Big Deal replied.
“Hey, Liz?” Jake said.
“Yes?” I politely replied.
“Can we speed this nonsense up? I’m trying to get on old girl with the wagon.”
“Nonsense?” I repeated.
“Yeah. I been gave y’all my word we good. I ain’t with all this extra nonsense.”
“Sure, one second.”
“Stop acting petty,” he told me, before having the nerve to offer me the joint.
I was a bit dumbfounded and offended by the offer and let slip, “Psst. As if.”
Big Deal tapped his boss on the shoulder and told him, “The little bros wanna be like the big bros. They’re asking for some paper to throw at the strippers.”
Their boss tapped the blunt a few times and chuckled under his breath before asking, “Oh yeah?”
“Hell yeah.”
“How much?”
“10 racks.”
“Tch. That’s it?”
“Yes, sir. Ten.”
“Give them fools 40.”
“You sure about that? Them young bleeps? You know they ain’t used to living like that.”
“They gotta learn one day.”
“Bet. I’ll make the call.”
“Um, I know it’s none of my business, but do you think it’s a good idea to close this deal, in particular, while under the influence?” I cautiously asked. When I looked down, I noticed my hand was gripping the edge of the table as if I was afraid my inquiry would spark his ire.
“I see you’re in your feelings.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Um. No.”
“You ain’t never met a real bleep, huh?”
“Excuse me?” I asked a bit incredulous.
“Nah seriously. On Devil. A lot of y’all ain’t never been around no real bleep for real. I bet that bleep hit different, don’t it? Go head. Say I’m lying.”
“You’re not a... humph. Never mind. Most people like you are locked up you know.”
“Or dead,” he added.
“That too,” I agreed.
“Yeah, but I ain’t.”
His gang partner, Tut, chimed in with, “You ain’t just ain’t. You took that bleep somewhere else. That’s on the guys.” He raised the pharaoh pendant to his gold chain and kissed it for good measure. Then he tapped the blunt one more time before passing it back. “The world is yours, boss. Put on for the (dead) homies.”
“Hell yeah,” Jake replied.
“How?” I asked.
“How what?” he asked back.
“How are you not dead?”
“Strength,” he stated.
“Really? That’s it.”
“Yeah. It’s the only thing that matters in this world. Without it, you got nothing.” He paused and hit the blunt before throwing in, “You know how many times I almost died? I’m stronger for it not weaker.”
“How many times have you?”
“What? Almost died?” he asked.
“Yeah. How many?” I asked again.
“Pfft. Death is my best friend.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Me and that bleep go way back.”
“That’s a very negative thing to say.”
“You don’t know bleep about the gutta.”
Taken aback, I politely told him, “Wow. Okay. Candor isn’t exactly something you shy away from.”
He leaned forward and offered me the blunt yet again. I saw his face a little better in the light. Damn was he easy on the eyes. A little too easy for someone who had such an ugly personality. His eyes were so blue and his skin soft as the clouds. The vampire blood that coursed through his veins had really did a number on him. Of course, I would never tell him that. He was already cocksure enough. Oh, and crude too.
Speaking of which, his crudeness quickly reminded me why it was folly to think nice things about him. No matter how many pretty bones he had in his body, he was still an unpleasant ruffian without a polite bone.
“Stop playing, gurl. The leaf ain’t gon’ smoke itself. And I already know how y’all rich vampires affiliated with the Illuminati get down.”
I gave in and told him “Sure, why not,” just so I wouldn’t come off as hostile or ‘lame’ as he liked to put it. I took one small drag and began to cough wildly. After I cleared my throat, I reminded him that, “We’re not the Illuminati” and that, “He watched too many movies.”
“What do you call it then?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A cabal of wicked ass vampires, with demons over everything, hellbent on taking over the world. And I ain’t talking about no harebrained Pinky and the Brain scheme. Nah. You guys is standing on business. You the one who watch too many movies if you think this ain’t Illuminati.”
“You’re very well informed.”
“I see you didn’t deny it.”
“Heard about what you did.”
“What’d I do this time?”
“You know ‘the fight.’”
“Oh. That’s old news.”
“Very cocky of you.”
“We took down a fallen angel. Why wouldn’t I be cocky after that? What’s the fool’s name? You know. The ashes me and your ‘benefactor’ smoking on.”
“Lord Jurael,” I answered.
“Yeah. That punk ass bleep. When you see him, ask him how his vacay in hell was.”
“Um. No thanks. I value my life too much to do that. And I don’t know if you know this or not, but yeah. He was kind of messing around with you guys. It was a test. And apparently you passed. Congrats.”
He threw up a gang sign and said, “Yeah, well tell him to get at me one on one next time. I was still fresh off the transformation when we tangled the first time. Tell all three of them bums to get at me. William, aka, your ‘benefactor,’ and that sneaky ass ninja-vampire, he always beefing with, he can get it too.”
“You have no shame.”
“Zero.”
“Wow.”
“I’m fresh out the mud. I put that on my bros. I put that on my dead brother.”
“I’m surprised my benefactor would associate himself with someone like you.”
“Enough with that. Stop calling old dude your ‘benefactor.’ We all know who you’re talking about. You’re talking about William’s punk ass.”
“I know. And I would but...”
“Sup? Cat got your tongue?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s bad luck to say his name.”
“Here we go with that devil speak.”
“It’s true you know. His father is—”
“Mannnn... gone somewhere with all that nonsense. You snobby vampires and your superstitions. I came from the fire, I know a demon when I see one, and he might be a son of a bleep, but he ain’t no son of a—"
He stopped mid affront to swat a fly that had landed on his arm. When the same fly hovered over his head, he went off on the establishment, “What kind of country ass bullbleep?! Flies flying around this dirty bleep!”
“You guys smell that?” I asked.
“Smell what?” Tut asked.
“Huh. It almost smells carrion.”
“Carry-onion? What that mean?” Tut asked Big Deal.
Big Deal smirked and responded with, “Sorry, ma’am. We’re human. You and the boss man are the only ones here who got a supernatural sense of smell.”
Their boss chimed in with: “I think you’re right. It does smell like a dead body. I should know, I’ve smelt plenty of—dammit!” he angrily cursed and swatted at another fly before he could finish his thoughts.
“You good, boss?” Tut asked.
“Go get the manager, homie.”
“I’m on it,” Big Deal said.
Before he could take off and do his boss’ bidding, a rush of panic hit the establishment. The ladies dressed in skimpy clothing screamed. The gangsters hollered at the thing that shuffled through the front door. The night went from zero to one hundred just like that. As if God had snapped his ethereal fingers. Fright and pandemonium swept through the room like a contagion. And the odor, ugh! So horrible, it made me sick to my stomach.
Our table was positioned at the worst angle. It was hopeless. No matter how much I glanced around, I couldn’t confirm my terrible suspicion. I flopped down in my chair and folded my arms in disgust. Great. As if this meeting could get any worse, I thought to myself. My sorrowful display was short lived. I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I could have remained in the dark. Ignorance would have been a boon to my frayed nerves.
King Tut jumped from his seat and placed his hand on his weapon. He hesitated when he realized that it was one of their gang brothers. Not only was it one of the “bros,” but I could tell it was someone he was close too. His sudden expression of dismay made it clear that fate had stepped in and dealt him a cruel blow.
The poor wretch defied the laws of nature and good taste as he shambled over towards us at a speed slightly quicker than death while looking like he was at least already halfway there. There was no question he had paid for his sins in spades. For he was caked in flies from head to toe. And the smell... oh my, was it as wretched and repulsive as the sight. It was a stench that made me afraid to gasp. So unbearable and pungent to the senses, it was offensive even to those not easily offended by such things as the sour smell of a cadaver.
This rotting corpse of a once proud young man collapsed to his knees as soon as he reached our table. Then, as if that wasn’t excruciating and exonerating enough of a fate, he just stared at their boss but said nothing. I swear. The whole thing would have felt contrived if it wasn’t so agonizing to watch. It was like his suffering was a macabre scene that had been cherrypicked right out of a horror movie by a cruel director.
Jake’s reaction was as unflinching and coldhearted as it’ll ever get. He placed his hand over Tut’s arm and told him to “chill” before he drew his weapon in a fit of rage. Then he stared grimly at their suffering gang brother and coldly asked, “What’s up, lil homie?”
It was indescribable, to see flies covering every inch of his body like that. It was impossible to tell if he was alive, dead, or somewhere in between. Either way, the one thing that was for sure was that he had suffered. I could tell just by his deathly gaze.
A cluster of flies crawled from his mouth. Every twitch of the cheek looked agonizing and disgusting beyond measure. His throat buckled to the will of the insects as if some unseen puppeteer manipulated his vocal cords like invisible strings. I prayed that he was indeed dead. Because as convincing and reanimating of a performance as this was, it was still more distressing than fascinating. The worst part was the voice that escaped. It was this broken shrill of a thing filled with torment:
“Jake, Jake, Jake. Come out and play. The moon doth shine as bright as day. Leave your supper and leave your sleep behind. Come to me, your playfellow, into the streets. I’ll wait for you on the other side.”
“Who the bleep are you?” Jake asked.
“Heh. Are you afraid?”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Will you? Come out and play? Or do I have to turn more of your friends into my playthings?”
Jake ordered Big Deal and King Tut to keep everyone inside. He was about to tell me to do the same, but I quickly insisted on going with him. Uh-uh. My benefactor would’ve killed me if I played it safe and reported back to him emptyhanded. Okay. Maybe “kill” is a bit extreme. He was polite and gentlemanly enough, neither had he ever shown any outward signs of hostility towards me, but I wasn’t about to give him any reason whatsoever to start. If I had any doubts on what to do, my choice was made crystal clear by one overarching thought: even though I absolutely feared whatever fate awaited me outside, I feared the demonic wrath of my benefactor a whole lot more.

DEMON
TIME
By Ringo Cross
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere deep in Romania...
There was no hope. There was no light. Salvation must be found elsewhere. Only darkness and the Dragon, feasted and festered here, upon the pitiful, sorrowful souls that screamed in utter damnation.
The underling who entered the cave gripped his chest and collapsed to his knees once he had reached the bowels of despair. The Dragon possessed evil like a mortal soul desperately clings to faith.
The terrified vampire trembled as he carefully reached for the handkerchief stuffed neatly in the front pocket of his suit coat. He coughed into it and was surprised to see that it was soaked in fresh blood.
Each breath was weak and overbearing. It felt like a massive vise-grip had squeezed down on his ribcage and refused to give an inch. Surely, he wouldn’t stay. He couldn’t be that zealous of a believer in the New Faith. His mind justified his suffering by clinging on to the hope that he wouldn’t have to stay here for too much longer. He did not want to end up like all the other souls who were forced to grace his ungodly presence.
His lips quivered when he went to speak. He almost made the mistake of uttering his name but stopped just short. “Thank God,” he muttered to himself in disbelief. God bless the souls brave enough to read this, less they succumb to the same wrathful fire.
The Dragon was surrounded by ceremonial candles that formed a perfect circle. He meditated in bleak hatred and longed for oppression. Damnation or divination, prophecy could be changed: “God’s throne is mine!”
Flame rose from his flesh, but he was unbothered by the withering agony. The sight was blasphemy. Unholy theophany opposite “the burning bush.” He sat menacingly and well-tempered like a blade forged in restless hellfire. He did not even bother to open his eyes as he waited for his trembling underling to speak.
There was no flame or pain in this life or hereafter that could match his demon. One slip of the tongue, and the fool before him would perish before he could blink. For he was the one who had led a rebellion. For he was the one who had taken all that was holy and tainted it.
The Dragon angled his head ever so slightly, away from the ethereal blaze. His tone plotted and deliberate, “You seek wisdom in the fire?”
“No! No, please, I-I don’t!”
“Then what is it you fear?”
“I... I... Oh God!”
“Seek. Every mortal utters his name out of instinct when they come to me.”
“F-Forgive me, my lord. I-I’ve come with news that the first phase of the awakening is complete. W-We will carry on with the next phase as ordered.”
“Speak now in the fire.”
“T-There is a slight problem.”
“My son?”
“N-No. N-Not him.”
“Then who?”
“The angels have taken interest in the one who helped him pass the trial.”
“Ah. The bard?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Hmm. In that case. Let us see what it is they see in this foolish mortal. Send one of my saplings.”
“As you wish.”
“Oh and, Sextus.”
“Y-Yes, my lord?”
“Disturb me again while I meditate, and I’ll scorch you like a soul in my Lake of Fire.”
“F-Forgive me, my lord.”
“Get out of my sight.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Two weeks later in Detroit...
I backed my BMW into the designated spot several minutes earlier than the meeting was supposed to start. I had been told to wait inside the car until one of the members of his gang came out to greet me.
I checked my watch a second and third time. Humph. Always trying to be perfect was nerve-racking. Sure, everything had gone as planned thus far, but you never know, especially with a situation as crazy as this. Crazy or not, things had to go right.
“Why did I even agree to do this?” I asked myself without thinking. I mean, I know why I agreed, but... tch, whatever. I guess asking myself stupid questions aloud was one of my many bad habits. “At least no one’s around to see you do it this time, Lizzy. Unlike the last time when you were out shopping with your benefactor, and you let slip that you considered her a blood sister,” I murmured to myself, irritatingly enough.
I flipped the visor down and focused on touching up my makeup instead of focusing on touching up my fractured nerves. Well, when I say “focus,” what I actually meant was nervously checked my eyeliner for a third and fourth time. I can’t believe this. Can’t even get my thoughts together, I thought to myself as I thought to myself how totally not right of a situation this was.
Just then an African American male, clad in urban wear from head to toe, approached my vehicle and gently tapped on the window. He laughed when I jumped. I blushed from the sheer embarrassment of having been frightened by a human. He found the odd role reversal amusing as well. After that, we had a brief but lighthearted exchange—confirming who he was and that I was indeed who I said I was.
Surprisingly, the man was a complete gentleman. He opened my door, was well-spoken, and extremely careful in his actions. He introduced himself under the alias of “Big Deal,” which confused me at first. Who knows. I guess it’s something urbanites did to protect their identity. Oh, and I complimented him on his choice of eyewear in an honest attempt to match his politeness.
He smiled and said thanks. Then he quickly threw in the not-so useful tidbit that his eyewear was Cartier. When I shrugged in innocent confusion, he tossed in the added fun fact that they were a very expensive brand of eyewear, oh and that he owned several pair.
He laughed under his breath when I shrugged again, obviously no less confused by what he was putting out in the ether. He opened the door to the strip club, and I was immediately hit square in the face by an avalanche of weed smoke, wild ruckus, rowdy music, and scantily clad dancers. The situation was less than ideal, but I had already been forewarned by my benefactor that dealing with this person would always be less than ideal.
I was gently guided to the last booth. It was all the way in the corner, far removed from the wildness and craziness that ensued around the stage. The booth was dark. Intuition told me that the person seated across from me was indeed the vampire I had come to meet.
I cleared my throat and said: “Greetings, Mr. Winters. My name is Elizabeth Carnot. You can call me Liz. I’m assuming you have a ‘moniker’?”
He looked over at the gentleman seated next to him and shook his head. Then he looked over at me and grinned. His blue eyes pierced through the darkness like an iceberg on a bitterly cold night. “Call me Icy.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say ‘Icy’?”
“Yeah-yeah, Icy. ‘ICY.’”
“Okay, Mr. Icy. I’m your liaison.”
“‘Mr. Icy?’ Hah. Stop playing.”
“What do you mean? I wasn’t—"
“Call me by my regular name.”
“Okay, and what’s that?”
“Tch. Jake Winters.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.”
He pointed to the man seated next to him and blurted out, “Yeah, this my hitter, King Tut.”
“Um. Greetings, Mr. King Tut.”
“Sup,” he replied with a nod.
The individual by the name of Big Deal, the one who escorted me inside, he stood next to his boss with folded arms. He checked his phone a few times and seemed uneasy. By the look of it, he had some influence in our dealings and must have been a high-ranking member of their gang. But I could be wrong. You never know with these types.
Seeing my confounded expression, their boss told me, “What’s up? Why’re you acting scared?”
“I’m sorry. Come again?” I asked.
“Never mind. All I gotta do is sign some papers, right?” he asked in an irritated tone.
I placed my briefcase on the table, snapped it open, and told him, “Yeah. Give me a minute. I just need to gather the necessary documents.”
“These folks and their paperwork,” Mr. Winters told his counterpart seated next to him.
“You already know how they get down, boss,” Big Deal chimed in while patiently standing by.
“Hell yeah,” he shot back at his gang comrade before turning his attention back to me. He studied me carefully and rather rudely for a moment longer than I would’ve liked before finally asking, “What’s your name again?”
“Elizabeth Carnot.”
“You seem familiar.”
“I do?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m sure I would have remembered if we met.”
“Nah. Not you. Your dad. His name’s Philip, right?”
“Why as a matter of fact, yes. He’s employed as a factor for my benefactors.”
“Yeah. I can see the resemblance. Tell the old geezer I said, ‘Sup,’ when you see him.”
“Sure,” I smirked before looking around the place. “We couldn’t have done this anywhere else?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“I grew up in dem strips. My bruthers couldn’t tell me nothing. So naturally you couldn’t.”
“Okay...” I uttered not knowing what else to say.
“All you Báthory folk the same.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Dingy than a motherfucker. You remind me of old girl. I bet my Muller you know her.”
“You mean the countess?”
“Yeah. The ditz.”
“Yes. I know her.”
“Bet that up,” he said before adjusting his diamond studded watch, relieved at the fact that he didn’t have to part ways with it even though I had no idea what I was going to do with it other than stash it in one of the shelves in our museum’s storage room.
Humph. Who knows. Maybe he’ll die soon, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility, considering his reckless lifestyle. In that case, his watch could become one of our more “darker possessions,” I secretly hoped.
“Damn,” Big Deal murmured as he looked at his phone in dismay. His sudden uneasiness was very distracting. For a moment there, I thought something was wrong. He quietly and quickly fielded a call. Then he tapped his boss on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
Mr. Winters looked up at him in exasperation. He just shook his head and was like, “Another one?”
“Yup,” he solemnly replied.
Their boss brought his hands together and gathered his thoughts before coolly saying, “I know who it is getting at my spots, but I can’t prove it.”
“The Cash Cowboyz?” Big Deal asked.
“Man. Hell nah. I put that on the bros,” Mr. Winters vehemently replied to his underling. “Them fuckers tissue paper. If it wasn’t for her benefactor, we would’ve been stepped all over ‘em with the bros.”
Big Deal nodded, “Right. Yeah. Somebody with some juice putting in some serious work.”
“You good, Tut?” Jake asked.
“Meh. I was just thinking.”
“What’s on your mind, bro?”
“It’s strange... when I went to take out Martel after he murked Terrance... I don’t know boss... Something was off about the whole thing. I can’t put my finger on it, but we ain’t never found Terrance body, plus the guys keep saying he ain’t dead. That he came back as something. Something that ain’t human, or vampire, or whatever.”
“That’s the word in the streets, huh?” Mr. Winters asked him with a hint of anger.
“Yeah. I keep hearing rumors, too. I don’t know how true they are,” Big Deal threw in.
Tut chimed back in with the solemn statement, “Well. If it is him. I got a feeling he’s working for her benefactor. You know how the Illuminati move. They always trying to stay ahead of the game.”
“Word,” Jake nodded.
“What’s the move, boss? How far you willing to take it?” Big Deal asked very gingerly.
“How many spots got knocked?”
“Three so far.”
“Is that true?”
“Yup,” Tut confirmed.
“Shit. I’m willing to take it all the way. Just cause they on demon time, don’t mean I can’t be on demon time. I ain’t giving up my spots for nobody.”
“Just think about it,” Deal chimed in.
“Here you go about to play Gandhi.”
“I’m saying. We might not be making as much dealing exclusively to vampires but it’s safer. After we ink this deal, we got a monopoly on all the blood dens. You know them fools own more than just Detroit, right?”
“Is that true?” Jake asked me.
“That is correct,” I nodded.
“Dang. What all they got?”
“Boss, I’m telling you, they laid. Man. Tch. They got Chicago, Toronto, Ohio, Minn, Wisconn, and some other satellite spots,” Big Deal explained.
“Damn, he for real?” he asked me.
“He is indeed correct,” I said with a smirk. “The only territorial dispute I know of is with the Windsor vampire order, over the territory of Toronto.”
“William’s sweet ass getting it like that?!” he asked me again with even more shock.
“You mean my benefactors?”
“Yeah. Him and his fiancée.”
“Well, I don’t know what you mean by ‘sweet,’ but yes, they have it ‘like that,’ as you put it.”
“Dude think he slick,” Jake groaned.
“Mm-hm. It’s probably him, trying to knock us off the block,” Tut replied after some thought.
“What’d you think we should do?” Jake asked the homie Big Deal, hoping against hope he had an answer instead of another irksome, nonchalant response.
He shrugged before further chagrining his boss by telling him, “I think we should leave it alone.”
“You supposed to be my captain, not the nigga who preaches peace every time I ask you for your two cents. Martin Luther King wannabe ass nigga.”
“Fuck you,” he replied back.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Hold on for a sec,” Jake said before signaling for one of his gang goons over by the bar. He came over and quickly passed him a blunt that was stuffed with what had to be marijuana. Jake wasted no time. He took a stupidly long toke before passing to Tut, who did the same thing before passing it back. Then Mr. Winters took another ignorantly long toke before offering me a hit.
When I politely declined, he called me a ‘lame ass white chick,’ which I found incredibly offensive, considering he was Caucasian too. So, for him to insult me like that was crass to say the least. My mind couldn’t help but wonder. Why was my clan making a deal with some thoughtless churl? To be fair, foreign affairs wasn’t exactly my department. Only reason I agreed to this was because our emissary was away on urgent business, and this “all-important” arrangement couldn’t wait.
Suddenly, the DJ made an announcement. He thanked Jake and his gang for the mountain of money they laid down on his workstation. The club atmosphere was instantly rejuvenated as soon as he mixed one of Mr. Winter’s songs. I couldn’t believe my ears. His lyrics were invective, classless, senseless, tasteless, and worst of all, stuffed with baseless Illuminati accusations.
Jake threw up the set and took another hit from the fattest marijuana blunt I had ever seen. Then he whistled at his gang underlings near the stage before flashing the set again. They responded by throwing that bitch back, and then tossing a flurry of cash onstage until it was blurry. He slouched in his seat and watched the thuggery unfold like a proud dad. The arrogant thug couldn’t help himself. He had to mumble the lyrics under his breath:
“They said a white nigga couldn’t make it. Now the streets hot, cause all I do is bake it. Ain’t just get even wid it—went and got sadistic wid it. Wholesale dope flows! Yeah! Fiends know I really get it. Yeah! My chick mad cause I don’t really need her, rap career just went solar. Don’t pay her no mind, she bipolar. Sold hope to the kids and dope to they mommas.
“Went from sliming in the slums to packed shows and packing plenty sums. Took a heavy loss and turned my demon on. Burn the streets up and got right back on. If the pack strong, you ain’t doing it wrong. I’m hopping off the porch with this fent all day long.
“Bandz ah make her dance, so I get plenty. Gunz ah make him dance so we pack many. I was dead and gone, but now I’m undead and standing all on my own. Tell them Cowboyz aim for the head if we foes, instead of doing it with their eyes closed like some street hoes. All these drugs get shipped in different zip codes. Rubbers bands on rubber bands—next to barcodes on barcodes.
“My angel said, ‘don’t do it.’ My demon said, ‘you better prove it.’ Linked up with the Illuminati just to keep chuggin’. Ten years slangin,’ and I’m still thuggin.’ Hell yeah, that savage in me still showing. What happened to gangster rap? That shit ain’t growing. All these niggas talk about is getting geeked-up. Stay strapped up—ain’t getting set-up by no foes. Sonic rings keep me banked-up on zeros. Stay trapped-up—call me ‘Scarface.’ Don’t get poured out like syrup. ‘Say goodnight to the bad guy,’ we ain’t no role models or heroes.
“I might be a white boy but I’m that nigga. Blood Gang tell I die we get figures. Got my money the wrong way, so why do it the right way? Gang in my blood until I tilt over. Pour some dark out for my dead homies—fuck it! Let that shit spill over.
“Whole family died for diss American dream. Things ain’t exactly what they seem. Yeah, I’m serving whipped cream. Look at da flicka da wrist—still serving dem fiends. Chopped and screwed the white—3-6 Mafia. Demon time when I’m flickin’ da dope. New drug same flick as whipping coke. Diss that real shit for dem real niggas. This that jungle music for my silverback gorillas. This that murder music for my true killers. Ain’t no foe of mines—walking-me-down. Ain’t no chick of mines—talking-me-down.”
The beat transformed into something elegant and undead. When this odd transition transpired, the strip club exploded into a crescendo of undeserving cheers. It was all too much for me. Quite an uncomfortable spectacle I had few words for. I was just happy that he finally stopped rapping to his own song and at least let this new set of foulmouthed lyrics speak for themselves:
“Even though I’m a vampire and I got this new thirst, yeah, the money forever and always come first. Yeah! If I die, fuck it. Yeah! I lived a fast life, and I loved it. Yeah! Pour some white Henny out for my set. Yeah! We stay on that demonic shit. Hell yeah! Fuck with us and get yo shed split. Hell yeah! Oh yeah, I came from the gutter like no other. Yeah! Beat hit like my switch kickback. Yeah! Used to get my hands dirty, now I just kick back. I’m a boss—but I still got that 21 Savage.
“I’m ah do this gang shit until die. If they saying, ‘I can’t go get it’ they a lie. Always throw my set up when I ride. Illuminati on my motherfucking side. Money ain’t enough I need that blood. All this drug money in da strip club. Throw diss blood money in the feds face. They ain’t got no graves, they ain’t got no case.
“Always look your enemy in the eye. Cause if they flinch you know they afraid to die. Always cut your dope with some chems. Always step on the pack and make M&M’s. Always keep a motherfucking scrap on your side.
“I’m geeked up. Geeked up. Yeah! I’m geeked up! Geeked up! Drugs got me high as a mug right now. White Henny in my cup got me geeked right now. She say her man at home—you know we ran game on her. Blood gang chain gang—you know we ran a train on her. This ain’t (Young) Jeezy, this that drug dealing white boy who make it look easy.”
“That jones go hard,” Tut remarked.
“Hell yeah it do,” Jake said before passing the blunt back to him. “Damn, bro, old girl, got a wagon.”
“Hell yeah she do,” Big Deal agreed.
“What’s her name?” Jake asked.
“Carnation,” Big Deal said.
“Carnation?” he asked again.
“Yes, sir,” Big Deal replied.
“Hey, Liz?” Jake said.
“Yes?” I politely replied.
“Can we speed this nonsense up? I’m trying to get on old girl with the wagon.”
“Nonsense?” I repeated.
“Yeah. I been gave y’all my word we good. I ain’t with all this extra nonsense.”
“Sure, one second.”
“Stop acting petty,” he told me, before having the nerve to offer me the joint.
I was a bit dumbfounded and offended by the offer and let slip, “Psst. As if.”
Big Deal tapped his boss on the shoulder and told him, “The little bros wanna be like the big bros. They’re asking for some paper to throw at the strippers.”
Their boss tapped the blunt a few times and chuckled under his breath before asking, “Oh yeah?”
“Hell yeah.”
“How much?”
“10 racks.”
“Tch. That’s it?”
“Yes, sir. Ten.”
“Give them fools 40.”
“You sure about that? Them young niggas? You know they ain’t used to living like that.”
“They gotta learn one day.”
“Bet. I’ll make the call.”
“Um, I know it’s none of my business, but do you think it’s a good idea to close this deal, in particular, while under the influence?” I cautiously asked. When I looked down, I noticed my hand was gripping the edge of the table as if I was afraid my inquiry would spark his ire.
“I see you’re in your feelings.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Um. No.”
“You ain’t never met a real nigga, huh?”
“Excuse me?” I asked a bit incredulous.
“Nah seriously. On Devil. A lot of y’all ain’t never been around no real nigga for real. I bet that shit hit different, don’t it? Go head. Say I’m lying.”
“You’re not a... humph. Never mind. Most people like you are locked up you know.”
“Or dead,” he added.
“That too,” I agreed.
“Yeah, but I ain’t.”
His gang partner, Tut, chimed in with, “You ain’t just ain’t. You took that shit somewhere else. That’s on the guys.” He raised the pharaoh pendant to his gold chain and kissed it for good measure. Then he tapped the blunt one more time before passing it back. “The world is yours, boss. Put on for the (dead) homies.”
“Hell yeah,” Jake replied.
“How?” I asked.
“How what?” he asked back.
“How are you not dead?”
“Strength,” he stated.
“Really? That’s it.”
“Yeah. It’s the only thing that matters in this world. Without it, you got nothing.” He paused and hit the blunt before throwing in, “You know how many times I almost died? I’m stronger for it not weaker.”
“How many times have you?”
“What? Almost died?” he asked.
“Yeah. How many?” I asked again.
“Pfft. Death is my best friend.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Me and that nigga go way back.”
“That’s a very negative thing to say.”
“You don’t know shit about the gutta.”
Taken aback, I politely told him, “Wow. Okay. Candor isn’t exactly something you shy away from.”
He leaned forward and offered me the blunt yet again. I saw his face a little better in the light. Damn was he easy on the eyes. A little too easy for someone who had such an ugly personality. His eyes were so blue and his skin soft as the clouds. The vampire blood that coursed through his veins had really did a number on him. Of course, I would never tell him that. He was already cocksure enough. Oh, and crude too.
Speaking of which, his crudeness quickly reminded me why it was folly to think nice things about him. No matter how many pretty bones he had in his body, he was still an unpleasant ruffian without a polite bone.
“Stop playing, gurl. The leaf ain’t gon’ smoke itself. And I already know how y’all rich vampires affiliated with the Illuminati get down.”
I gave in and told him “Sure, why not,” just so I wouldn’t come off as hostile or ‘lame’ as he liked to put it. I took one small drag and began to cough wildly. After I cleared my throat, I reminded him that, “We’re not the Illuminati” and that, “He watched too many movies.”
“What do you call it then?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A cabal of wicked ass vampires, with demons over everything, hellbent on taking over the world. And I ain’t talking about no harebrained Pinky and the Brain scheme. Nah. You guys is standing on business. You the one who watch too many movies if you think this ain’t Illuminati.”
“You’re very well informed.”
“I see you didn’t deny it.”
“Heard about what you did.”
“What’d I do this time?”
“You know ‘the fight.’”
“Oh. That’s old news.”
“Very cocky of you.”
“We took down a fallen angel. Why wouldn’t I be cocky after that? What’s the fool’s name? You know. The ashes me and your ‘benefactor’ smoking on.”
“Lord Jurael,” I answered.
“Yeah. That punk ass nigga. When you see him, ask him how his vacay in hell was.”
“Um. No thanks. I value my life too much to do that. And I don’t know if you know this or not, but yeah. He was kind of messing around with you guys. It was a test. And apparently you passed. Congrats.”
He threw up a gang sign and said, “Yeah, well tell him to get at me one on one next time. I was still fresh off the transformation when we tangled the first time. Tell all three of them bums to get at me. William, aka, your ‘benefactor,’ and that sneaky ass ninja-vampire, he always beefing with, he can get it too.”
“You have no shame.”
“Zero.”
“Wow.”
“I’m fresh out the mud. I put that on my bros. I put that on my dead brother.”
“I’m surprised my benefactor would associate himself with someone like you.”
“Enough with that. Stop calling old dude your ‘benefactor.’ We all know who you’re talking about. You’re talking about William’s punk ass.”
“I know. And I would but...”
“Sup? Cat got your tongue?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s bad luck to say his name.”
“Here we go with that devil speak.”
“It’s true you know. His father is—”
“Mannnn... gone somewhere with all that nonsense. You snobby vampires and your superstitions. I came from the fire, I know a demon when I see one, and he might be a son of a bitch, but he ain’t no son of a—"
He stopped mid affront to swat a fly that had landed on his arm. When the same fly hovered over his head, he went off on the establishment, “What kind of country ass bullshit?! Flies flying around this dirty bitch!”
“You guys smell that?” I asked.
“Smell what?” Tut asked.
“Huh. It almost smells carrion.”
“Carry-onion? What that mean?” Tut asked Big Deal.
Big Deal smirked and responded with, “Sorry, ma’am. We’re human. You and the boss man are the only ones here who got a supernatural sense of smell.”
Their boss chimed in with: “I think you’re right. It does smell like a dead body. I should know, I’ve smelt plenty of—dammit!” he angrily cursed and swatted at another fly before he could finish his thoughts.
“You good, boss?” Tut asked.
“Go get the manager, homie.”
“I’m on it,” Big Deal said.
Before he could take off and do his boss’ bidding, a rush of panic hit the establishment. The ladies dressed in skimpy clothing screamed. The gangsters hollered at the thing that shuffled through the front door. The night went from zero to one hundred just like that. As if God had snapped his ethereal fingers. Fright and pandemonium swept through the room like a contagion. And the odor, ugh! So horrible, it made me sick to my stomach.
Our table was positioned at the worst angle. It was hopeless. No matter how much I glanced around, I couldn’t confirm my terrible suspicion. I flopped down in my chair and folded my arms in disgust. Great. As if this meeting could get any worse, I thought to myself. My sorrowful display was short lived. I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I could have remained in the dark. Ignorance would have been a boon to my frayed nerves.
King Tut jumped from his seat and placed his hand on his weapon. He hesitated when he realized that it was one of their gang brothers. Not only was it one of the “bros,” but I could tell it was someone he was close too. His sudden expression of dismay made it clear that fate had stepped in and dealt him a cruel blow.
The poor wretch defied the laws of nature and good taste as he shambled over towards us at a speed slightly quicker than death while looking like he was at least already halfway there. There was no question he had paid for his sins in spades. For he was caked in flies from head to toe. And the smell... oh my, was it as wretched and repulsive as the sight. It was a stench that made me afraid to gasp. So unbearable and pungent to the senses, it was offensive even to those not easily offended by such things as the sour smell of a cadaver.
This rotting corpse of a once proud young man collapsed to his knees as soon as he reached our table. Then, as if that wasn’t excruciating and exonerating enough of a fate, he just stared at their boss but said nothing. I swear. The whole thing would have felt contrived if it wasn’t so agonizing to watch. It was like his suffering was a macabre scene that had been cherrypicked right out of a horror movie by a cruel director.
Jake’s reaction was as unflinching and coldhearted as it’ll ever get. He placed his hand over Tut’s arm and told him to “chill” before he drew his weapon in a fit of rage. Then he stared grimly at their suffering gang brother and coldly asked, “What’s up, lil homie?”
It was indescribable, to see flies covering every inch of his body like that. It was impossible to tell if he was alive, dead, or somewhere in between. Either way, the one thing that was for sure was that he had suffered. I could tell just by his deathly gaze.
A cluster of flies crawled from his mouth. Every twitch of the cheek looked agonizing and disgusting beyond measure. His throat buckled to the will of the insects as if some unseen puppeteer manipulated his vocal cords like invisible strings. I prayed that he was indeed dead. Because as convincing and reanimating of a performance as this was, it was still more distressing than fascinating. The worst part was the voice that escaped. It was this broken shrill of a thing filled with torment:
“Jake, Jake, Jake. Come out and play. The moon doth shine as bright as day. Leave your supper and leave your sleep behind. Come to me, your playfellow, into the streets. I’ll wait for you on the other side.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Jake asked.
“Heh. Are you afraid?”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Will you? Come out and play? Or do I have to turn more of your friends into my playthings?”
Jake ordered Big Deal and King Tut to keep everyone inside. He was about to tell me to do the same, but I quickly insisted on going with him. Uh-uh. My benefactor would’ve killed me if I played it safe and reported back to him emptyhanded. Okay. Maybe “kill” is a bit extreme. He was polite and gentlemanly enough, neither had he ever shown any outward signs of hostility towards me, but I wasn’t about to give him any reason whatsoever to start. If I had any doubts on what to do, my choice was made crystal clear by one overarching thought: even though I absolutely feared whatever fate awaited me outside, I feared the demonic wrath of my benefactor a whole lot more.

[First] - [Prev] - [Next]
—
Memory transcription subject: Herq, Tilfish Junior Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: December 4th, 2136
Our return to the city was tensely uneventful. One might have expected more action, but in truth, there was nothing. The buildings were all empty of any thinking life, every citizen thankfully secured safely within a raid bunker. That is, most of them.
Von’s warning of the Arxur cattle ships landing down around a Bunker Four had progressed far past a warning. I tried to convince myself that it was worth it, that the truck full of weapons would make the difference for the other bunkers. It had to.
Bunker Six’s stalemate didn’t last as long as anybody had hoped. In the time it took us to make it within the city, the exterminators surrounding it had already been flushed out. There was the possibility of sending other teams to help out, but if they failed, the other bunkers would be even worse off. Only one of the two teams guarding the bunker made it out alive, and the Arxur were left to their devices.
They had nothing to slow them down. Any automated defenses in place would swiftly crumple, only really there to offer a miniscule peace of mind to the blissfully ignorant souls within. They wouldn’t be ignorant for long.
The thousands of scared people within the bunker would be left to the Arxur’s nonexistent mercy. Some would be eaten immediately, nothing but fresh meat for the starved bellies of the monsters. The rest would be forced to watch until being stuffed into a cattle ship. After that…
I couldn’t bring myself to think about the horrors of what came next.
“Herq, I reckon if you keep doing that you’ll rub all the chitin off of ‘em.”
I flinched, realizing I was rubbing my antennae. “S-Sorry… I can’t really-”
“No need to apologize. Just try to keep your chin up. Er, mandibles? Von will be here soon.”
I only offered him a flick of an antenna, and he returned to keeping watch out the window. We’d hidden ourselves in an unassuming house far from the heart of the town. Our battered truck was hidden from the street, though I hadn’t seen any Arxur to warrant the precaution.
Still, I hated the slow passage of time. “He should’ve been here already, and he hasn’t responded to my calls. I’m starting to get worried.”
Frankie shrugged. “He’s fine, I’m sure. Just taking his time, playing it safe.”
“I hope so.”
He nodded again, but when he looked back out the window his face took on a surprised expression. “Well, speak of the devil!”
My translator struggled with the human idiom. “What?”
He was already getting up from his makeshift seat outside the window. “He’s here. See? Nothing to worry about.”
He walked past me towards the stairs. I went over to the window to peek out, seeing a single vehicle coming down the street. It could only be Von. I heard Frankie shouting something to the others downstairs, and I followed his voice. As I came off the last step, the front door was already open. I was the last to leave, after Dusty. I shut the door behind me, offering only a passing thought to whoever the house belonged to.
The sky was still dark in the earliest hours of the morning. I only heard the rare pop of an explosion, which, according to Luke, was a vast decrease in frequency from when he had left Tepisil. No matter their infrequency, it was still far too many.
The truck came to a stop. The humans were already right beside it when the doors opened, and I scurried next to them, desperate to see a familiar face.
Von came from the other side. He looked even more tired than I felt. His antennae sagged and his reactions were just a second slower than they should’ve been. Even his scars looked deeper than I remembered, but that might have just been a side effect of the faraway lighting.
Luke waved an appendage. “Von, it’s good to see you alive.”
“Lieutenant Holtas, you as well.” Von turned to me. “And Herq! Formi, I’m glad you’re alive.”
I waggled an antenna. “You too. You have no idea… I’m glad to be back in Tepisil. And Polle, good to see you well.”
Polle had stepped out of the passenger door near to us. The exterminator offered me a flick of an antenna. He looked as uneasy as he was when I took him out of the predator disease facility, intently focused on the three maskless Terrans. I couldn’t blame him. Only now I could almost say I was comfortable around them, if only because of Frankie. I owed the burly human my life, and then some.
“Well, better late than never,” Von stated. “I thought you were dead, and suddenly your message about the weapons came, like a beacon of light.”
“You didn’t respond to my message. Are the bunkers…?” I asked, my voice faltering.
His antennae lowered, a movement filled with dread. “Yes, Six and Four are all but lost. We have to focus our efforts on the others, but it doesn’t help that the other teams have spotted hunting packs snooping around a few of the other shelters.”
Luke raised his hand. “Hate to interrupt, but how are the bastards finding them so quickly? I would think they would be more hidden.”
“This war has been going on for centuries,” Von answered. “They’re experienced hunters, sniffing out a meal comes easy for them.”
“And what about the hatchery?” I asked. Tealk was on my mind.
The Chief Exterminator hesitated. “I have no idea. I would’ve thought that satellite images would’ve given it away easily. Or, they may be more preoccupied with the larger city nearby.”
“Maybe the UN is giving them a harder time in orbit than we thought,” Dusty remarked.
Luke bobbed his head. “Best thing we can hope for. Bunker Four… I’m sorry. You understand why we had to leave it.”
“Why don’t we go over there and take it back from ‘em?” Frankie asked. I was grateful for his willingness to help, but even I knew it would be far too little far too late.
Von waggled his antennae. “I wish it were an option. The Arxur have too strong of a foothold at both bunkers. The seven of us wouldn’t be able to do it, and by the time we distributed weapons and ammo it would be too late. We need to get the weapons with the other teams now, rather than risking more being lost.”
“And that brings me to my question…” Luke shifted awkwardly. “Where’s the best place for us now?”
“That’s a question I wish were harder to answer,” Von replied. “The hatchery’s bunker is going to be the most important of all to defend.”
Polle suddenly found his voice. “What? You’re going to station humans around the hatchery, of all places?”
“This won’t be an argument. They’re offering their aid and are far more capable per arm, as has been made evident.”
“He’s right, Polle,” I started. “I’ve… seen what they can do. And more importantly, why they do it. I trust them.”
The exterminator brooded, clicking his mandibles together. Von flicked his antennae to me in acknowledgement. “I believe Jarn and Dernst and their teams are already there. You could cover a third side of the medical complex. In any case, the weapons must get distributed. We should each take half, and I can send you the locations of the other holdouts.”
“That would be best,” Luke said.
Von clicked his mandibles. “It seems we are all on the same page. Shall we get to work?”
The humans grumbled a few agreements. One of them went around the house we were in to retrieve the hidden vehicle and park it close to the other. There was an awkward sort of silence in the meantime. Small talk was hard in the middle of an invasion on a dark street.
Soon the truck pulled up and Frankie opened the back. Both the exterminators backed up in revulsion upon seeing the inside.
“That’s… blood.” Polle stated.
Reno suddenly appeared from his extended silence, limping forward. “Yeah. Big fucking deal.” He snatched a crate with his unbandaged paw and pushed through Von and Polle. They stared at him incredulously, likely linking together his bandages and the dried, murky green blood on some of the crates.
Nothing else was said as we transferred weapons from truck to truck. Reno was asked to explain a few things about the items Von and Polle were taking, which he seemed to begrudgingly comply with.
Once the weapons were all separated, they looked a little disheartening. Each crate looked so much smaller when there were half as many of them. Once they were distributed amongst the remaining exterminators, I guessed it would look even more pitiful. It was all we had against a fleet of Arxur.
Von shut the back doors to the truck. “That’s everything. We shouldn’t spare any more time.”
Luke dusted his hands off. “Agreed. In case we don’t see you again: it’s been an honor working with you.”
“Likewise. Farewell, humans.”
I swiveled my antennae, starting to follow Frankie to the truck. Von’s voice called out from behind me again. “Herq, aren’t you coming with us?”
My legs anchored themselves to the ground. The thought didn’t even cross my mind to go with the exterminators. My fellow exterminators. The ones I had pulled out of the facility.
You have a better chance with the humans. With Frankie. You’re anything but an exterminator. You don’t belong with them. You can’t simply open a few doors and guide them out of a building this time.
My brain assaulted me with conflicting thoughts. I should’ve gone with them. I couldn’t come up with a valid reason to not go with them that didn’t involve exposing my true, corrupted self to them. They would know I’m diseased.
What does that even mean anymore? Both of them were falsely diagnosed, and they seem more sane than ever. When was the last time anything the Federation said made sense? There’s no good reason to not go with them. And yet, I still can’t bring myself to.
Frankie cleared his throat. “If we’re giving weapons to your exterminators, it might be best to keep him around to avoid any, uh, twitchy finger incidents.”
That was a valid excuse. Von seemed to buy it. “I wish it were different, but… You’re probably right. If you’re agreeable to that, Herq?”
“I-It would probably be best, like Frankie said,” I answered.
Von paused for a moment before signing a farewell with his antennae. “Very well. May Formi guide you all.”
And that was it. Von and Polle disappeared into their truck. There was a good chance I would never see their faces again, eerily similar in how I felt seeing them be put away by Poccel. I ushered myself into the human’s vehicle, again crammed next to the Yotul.
Luke started the engine and we followed Von’s truck for a good distance before we finally took a different turn, separating us for good.
“You know, that guy actually seems a little alright for an exterminator,” Dusty announced. “Glad we ended up with him and not the other guy who tried to kill us.”
“Sometimes your thoughts are better left in your noggin, Dusty,” Frankie replied.
“As long as I’m a free thinker, I’m gonna be a free speaker. And no offense to you, Herq. You seem pretty cool, too.”
“Um… thanks,” I managed. I couldn’t find anything else to say to that.
Frankie leaned back to face me, sudden interest in his eyes. “Hey Herq, I’ve been wondering, what’s this ‘Formi’ all about? I heard Von say it, too.”
I shuddered. “Uh, y-you might be better off asking someone else.”
He furrowed his brow, an odd look for him. “Huh. You can’t tell me what he’s about, or anything? Oh! Is it like one of those anti-predator-”
“No!” I interrupted, surprising myself even. “S-Sorry… Formi is nothing like that. She-”
Dusty scoffed, “You’re telling me your god doesn’t hate predators? Imagine that.”
I folded my antennae disapprovingly, not that the human understood the gesture. “I’m not asking for your judgment. People like you are the reason I don’t like to bring it up.”
She arched an eyebrow. “People like me?”
“Every other religion you see wants predators erased, or they’re the root of evil… That’s the accepted belief for most of the Federation. Formi is… indifferent, rather than-”
“And you still torch animals without remorse,” Reno piped up.
“Bingo,” Dusty smirked. “Sorry Frankie, your bug is still Fed-brained.”
“Bloody hell, you two are insufferable,” Frankie spat. “Could you show a little respect? A smidge? Or is that too bloody hard for you hateful pricks?”
“Would you all quiet down?” Luke huffed. “It’s hard enough to drive with this cracked windshield.”
Dusty snorted like it amused her. Reno just rubbed at his bandaged wrist.
I kept my mandibles shut. I’d heard it all before, from fellow exterminators to the people who called in predator attacks. I didn’t expect it from predators themselves.
“Anyways,” Frankie stuck his head from the front seat to look at me. “Ya fancy another round of deliveries?”
Truthfully, I wanted to do anything but that. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to run away from it all and pretend that everything was fine. Instead, I gave him a flick of my antennae. It was better to keep up the facade for the beyond brave human. “The quicker, the better.”
The burly human turned to the Lieutenant. “Well, Luke, I reckon you drop yourself off near the hatchery, and we can distribute these fine armaments.”
“Yeah, give us more time to settle in. Traps, maybe. And less of us possibly in danger,” Luke agreed.
“Never would have thought I’d be caught distributing weapons to sapient bugs,” Dusty remarked.
“You can say that about a lot of things,” Frankie retorted.
A seed of thought was planted. I couldn’t help myself from trying to water it. “How did you find yourself here? I mean, all of you humans. I… heard your armed forces are voluntary.”
“Well,” Luke started, “Before the advent of FTL-”
“For the peace!” Frankie interrupted. “United Nations troops are called Peacekeepers, y’know… most of them, anyway. Earth kinda had her shit together before all this. Luke and I met each other in the forces, been mates ever since. Luke here said he initially joined because it was a decent job. I joined for basically the same reason, to be honest, though he had more drive than me.”
Luke nodded. “Yep… That’s about it.”
Dusty snorted. “Never would have guessed you’d be fighting people-eating space nazis, huh?”
“Believe it or not, it was on the list,” Luke deadpanned. “How about you then, Dusty? Don’t think I’ve ever asked why you enlisted.”
“The extermination fleet happened. I was already thinking about it after learning the entire galaxy hated us. Their damn fleet making it past Pluto was what pushed me over the edge.”
Frankie solemnly nodded. “That’s what did it for a lot of people. You’ve got my respect for that, Dusty.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Her voice took on an irritated tone. “I’m more curious as to what would inspire a Tilfish to become an exterminator. Y’know, someone who burns animals alive. Especially since his god doesn’t even call for it.”
I lowered my antennae. “It… is a respected profession. I never took any joy in doing what I did, n-neither did anyone else. It’s an important job to do.”
Reno flicked an ear. “You’ve been spoon-fed lies your whole life, and you keep on drinking it up. ‘Predator’ this, ‘prey’ that. It never ends with you people.”
My antennae raised in shock. “I joined because I thought I could do some good for my town. It was the only thing where I felt I could make a difference. I…” I was so wrong.
“A difference? Exterminators cause problems everywhere they go. I could list hundreds of reasons, but it would be a waste of breath on you.”
I narrowed my attention to the marsupial. His anger had gone too far this time. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your entire life turned upside down? I’ve-”
“Yes, I fucking do.”
Luke coughed. “Hey, it’s best if we-”
“Luke, let me be pissed off for a damn minute.” Reno pointed his snout at me in a threatening gesture. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your whole world be erased? Stuck on your fucking medication for twenty years? You’ve lived a fucking comfy life up until now, all because you’re too stupid to see through the Federation’s lies.”
I didn’t waver. “I’m watching my world be erased as we speak. And is it all lies? Is the Federation itself built upon lies? I don’t know, I could never answer that. The past few months have left me questioning myself—and everything else—at every turn. I only see the galaxy around me changing, and I know I am helpless to stop it. I’ve never left Sillis. Call me ignorant because I certainly am, but do not blame me for it.”
The Yotul turned away from me in a huff, his leg beginning to thump. He obviously looked like he wanted to say more, but the only thing that left him were narrowly controlled breaths of air. My burst of confidence quickly faded into the silent hum of the vehicle traveling down the street. The others didn’t have anything to say on the matter. I’d heard stories of Leirn, of its stubbornly primitive inhabitants.
At a different time, I might have blindly accepted the stories, just like everything else the Federation put in my head. If I never learned of the Federation’s two-headed malice, I would’ve easily dismissed the Yotul’s hotheaded argument. He was clearly quick to anger, and even quicker to take it out on whoever was closest to him, my sister included.
Though he spoke with such conviction of his past; the reasons behind his actions. There used to be a reason behind mine…
What has he gone through? Twenty years of predator disease medication? How much is the Federation to blame for? How many lies have yet to be unraveled? Every hour it seems more and more that humans are the only ones with any answers.
The thoughts were unwelcome at the present moment. The Arxur were coming soon, and we needed to be present and unified to face them. In truth, we were all the same; scared people fighting for our lives.
I would go with Frankie, as I had before, to places where an exterminator should be. After we distributed the weapons… then what? We would give the smallest amount of hope to the people defending the bunkers, but it wouldn’t be enough. We would die defending the last bunker, if we even made it that far. If the UN truly was planning on taking Sillis back from the claws of the Arxur they would need to hurry, else the cattle ships would get away with their prizes and leave an antimatter bomb as the only evidence that the town even existed.
I caught myself rubbing my antennae before Frankie could scold me for it. Our drive was relatively uneventful. It seemed as though Arxur hardly even touched our city, but that was only because we avoided any major streets and were far away from the heart of town near the medical complex.
My holopad pinged. It was a message from Von, which I quickly brought up. He sent me a list with the locations of each team we would be visiting. There were only a few names on there. There would’ve been more if we hadn’t lost as many as we did at the predator disease facility.
I pushed aside the grim reminder and looked through the names. Jarn was first, being right next to the medical complex, where we were supposedly going. It was a relief to see her name. Hopefully it would be equally relieving to actually talk to her.
Next up was Dernst, then Tesure, and more. My eyes glazed over the others until I saw Verlli’s name. He was the on-site exterminator of the predator disease facility, and had guided Frankie’s team inside before… everything happened. I might not have expected the contemptuous officer to be part of the exterminators that Von trusted, but dire times called for it.
I was suddenly not looking forward to getting the weapons to everyone. At least, from the looks of things, he was going to be our last stop. I sent Von an affirmation and stuffed away the pad. I rested my head against the seat, letting my muscles catch up with myself for the first time since daylight.
The sudden absence of any tension shot a wave of unease through me, like my body was warning me that relaxing was dangerous. Everything I saw and heard was a reminder that my body was right, from the cracked windows, to Reno’s bandaged legs, to the distant and rare pops of explosions that were still audible.
And there was still so much to do.
—
[First] - [Prev] - [Next]
Formi comes from Trails of Our Hatred. Read it if you haven't. Sillis Gang!
Thanks to u/WCR_706 for proofreading. And, of course, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe.

Hello! To all my amazing, Long Hauling friends!
You know who you are. You’re the ones making canes, supplements, naps, inhalers, wheelchairs, coughing, and more naps look sexy as hell! I see you, and I love you.
It’s been a while so I wanted to give you all an update on what’s been going on with little old me
First stop- I got Botox!
No shit. Doc uses it for Parkinson’s patients with seized limbs and it has been doing wonders with my tremors.
I’ll tell you this much- Botox was NOT on my long haul bingo card.
It’s amazing what a little bit of a watered down, precisely placed botulism can do for a fella’.
Here’s something I really love about this doctor. When I asked him if there are any potential risks, he said, “Well, I’m taking a substance that if I had 2 cups of it, I could kill everyone on the planet and I’m injecting it into your body. So yes, there are some risks.”
Did I mention I love this doctor?
I’ve had three rounds in my arm and leg. All with positive results and minimal side effects.
Abdominal tremors are a little trickier however. Doc has been very conservative with those because if I spasm while the needle is in my belly, all of a sudden he’s poking something really important.
So we started with a new muscle relaxer pill (Dantrium 50mg) that helped give me greater control of the abdominal spasms. It was enough that he was able to Botox my belly as well last time. So far the results there have been negligible, so we’re going to up the tummy dose when I go back this summer.
The other interesting treatment I’ve been trying for the last few months is something called Alpha Stimulation. Or as this Doc likes to say, every week I go hang out in his ‘Zen Den’.
I started this about the same time as my first round of Botox, so it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where the benefits are coming from. But I am feeling benefits.
To be fair, I’m spending an hour in dimly lit room, lying on a heated, vibrating, Biomat, enjoying soothing spa music, and having low level electrical pulses course through my brain via the little clippy things on my ears… I’m pretty sure the biggest risk here is falling asleep before the nurse comes back and forces me to leave.
But enough about that. Let’s just discuss something far more controversial.
Mayo Clinic.
I know a lot of people here have had very, Very, VERY (did I mention very?) mixed experiences with Mayo Clinic. Understand that when I say ‘mixed experiences’ I actually mean that more as anywhere from ‘Meh’ to ‘Fuck You Mayo, You Fucking Fuck!’
I understand both reactions. Really and for truly I do. This is a recounting of my experience and my takeaways. You are, of course, welcome to your own opinions in this matter.
I went there with an open mind and full realization that they did not have a cure. And I’m able to report that they delivered.
I spent a week there, and had a chance to see all the Ologists.
The trip was bookended with appts with my ‘main’ Mayo Dr, who I saw Monday and Friday. It was an exhausting week, and during my Friday visit the Dr commented on how much I had deteriorated. (Lots is the answer)
I passed (failed?) a Fibromyalgia test. The nurse first squeezed my thumb, demonstrating the amount of pressure she was going to apply to various points on my body. She then proceeded to Stab An Ice Pick into my knees, elbows, back, neck, and apologized every time I screamed.
Holy shit ballz! That was eye opening, both figuratively and literally.
My primary doc has now prescribed a Fibromyalgia med (Lyrica 50mg) to see if that eases some of the joint pain. I only started it this week, so nothing to report yet.
I asked all the Drs the same couple questions, and was pleased to get some honest answers out of most of them.
“Based on everything you have read and learned about this, what does your gut tell you the root cause might be?”
“If you were in my position, what would you be doing?”
‘Central Sensitization’ was often repeated as a possible cause, but that answer seems to toe the company line.
Some went a little more rogue and said that they suspected a hereto elusive disconnect in the signals between the brain and the body. And unfortunately, they have seen it with other post-viral conditions for decades and still don’t have a definitive cause or cure.
For the most part, I was already doing most of the things-they-would-be-doing, and keeping a more positive attitude than many thought they would have by this point.
A few of them pointed to a super intensive therapy dealio called the BEST program BEhavorial Shaping Therapy.
All except the Dr of Physical Therapy, who said I was nowhere near strong enough for it. Its PT, OT, Speech, Cognitive, and Talk therapy all rolled into one (horrible sounding) week. We agreed that in my current state the program would grind my bones to dust. But I’ll get there eventually.
My local therapists are researching to see if they can design a scaled down version as a stepping stone.
This next one will sound like a joke, but it isn't. At the end of the Friday visit with the ‘main’ Dr, the last thing she said to me on her way out the door was, “May the Force be with You.”
I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear that from someone on my care team. Seriously. It filled my icy, icy heart with blood.
And my final takeaway from this week at Mayo Clinic was a deep and immense sense of gratitude for how truly fortunate I am.
Ive been saying for years that “it could be worse” and while I was there, rolling from appt to appt, everywhere I looked…I saw Worse.
It can be a pain to go to the bathroom. Get my canes out, lock the wheels on my chair, take my gloves off, stand up, hold myself up against the wall or partition, and try not to pee all over my pants…
But I can do it by myself. And thats more than a lot of people I saw can say.
That and so many more examples of Things-I-Can-Still-Do really helped keep my perspective in check.
To all my Long Hauling, Never Quitting, Warrior Champion Friends!
Please don’t stop fighting. I know you’re tired. I know it sucks.
We can’t control the medical world.
We can’t control the media.
We can’t control other people’s opinions.
All we can control is our attitude and our dedication. So continue to do Every-God-Damn-Thing you can do to make yourself Faster, Stronger, Smarter, and Better. Make it to tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.
We also can’t control the future, but if we bust our asses every today, eventually the future will unfold around us, and we will know in our hearts that wherever we are, however we feel, we Earned the right to be there.
And to all the caretakers!
All the caregivers. The spouses, the partners, friends, kids, siblings, neighbors, and whomevers.
Thank you. Thank you so much. This would be so much harder without you in our corner.
I see you all I love you all.
Strength and Health
COVID is Stoopid

Female 25, I don’t smoke cigarettes just weed. I’m on medication for high blood pressure, Losartan potassium. Had HBP since I was 17. 5ft3in about 160lbs.
I live in MI and in 2021 I travelled to North Carolina & Tennessee and randomly one of the days there my eye just swelled shut in the middle of the day. I figured I must be allergic to something that isn’t native to my state. It went down after a few hours and I was fine. A couple weeks later it happened again when I was back home. Then I was just thinking it must be a new allergy. But taking allergy medicine didn’t work at all. Since then I’ve tried to keep track of when it’s happened. It’s happened at least 12 times since then including last night. Washing it doesn’t help, medication doesn’t help. I don’t wear make up every day and 99% of the times it’s happened I wasn’t wearing makeup and didn’t put any on around that time. I went to the dr and he said it was allergies and put me on medication 3 times a day. Well it’s still happening. He just diagnosed me with angioedema which is just an unknown allergy. I’ve even tried to keep track of what I ate & did that day including my sleep habits. From what I can see there is no correlation. I’ll include some of the notes I’ve taken in case anyone sees a correlation. I definitely have missed some cases. Does anyone know what it could be? It doesn’t hurt, it’s not red, it waters as it’s swelling but it doesn’t continue to water, it doesn’t get crusty. It mostly happens in my left eye but once or twice it’s happened on the right eye. Thank you in advance
Eye Swelling
4/15/2022 5/6/2022
9/25/22 watching tv around 9pm lasted all night until the next morning
10/22/22 Didn’t sleep well. Woke up took a shower no make up no cats in my face. Not touching my face. Swelling started around 2pm
11/6/22 Slept okay. Drank last night. Forgot to take makeup off last night Started swelling after I took it off. Ate mini wheats before it started swelling. Around 12:30-1pm left eye
11/24/22 3:25 pm. Did makeup and eye started swelling about 10 minutes after. First time it’s ever happened while wearing makeup. Used new pallet. Before make up I was helping clean and bake cookies drank last night. Left eye
4/9/23 17:40 sat down in Paige’s moms room pet donut. Didn’t touch my eye. Started swelling. Left eye. had a headache start around 2
5/5/2023 6:30 am. Was pooping started to swell a bit. Couldn’t sleep. Been up since 5:20. Had a headache took excedrine. Have a lot of mucus slight cough. Didn’t swell completely
6/5/2023 Around 6pm. Paige was driving and I was in passenger seat. Eye started watering so I knew it was starting. It swelled up about halfway. Windows were down. Hadn’t smoked weed since the night before. Not wearing makeup. Lasted until mid day 6/6
9/10/2023 9:50 pm sitting in bed on my tablet. Windows are open. Just got done putting away laundry. Ate Taco Bell around 3pm Took medicine this morning forgot to take it until after swelling at 10:20 Still swollen when I woke up at 7am. Didn’t get worse
10/15/2023 Sitting on couch watching tv. Drank some coffee and ate a hash brown woke up with a migraine but it went away after taking excedrine
5/21/24 My eye started swelling up while laying in bed. Around 10pm I had Taco Bell for dinner and a couple pieces of a mr good bar. I started my period and left work early. But I was in a hot car for over an hour after. I just had coffee banana nut muffins and some bread rolls during work. I did go to work with barely any sleep. It is still swollen still on 5/22 at 10 am. I iced it before I went to bed. Left eye

Well, it’s kind of long but here we go, we are first time parents so I guess we were dumb lol
When my LO was born from the start we had issues that we basically were told were normal that just weren’t. We didn’t know. She never could latch, so we triple fed and gave her my pumped milk. She was born small (4 lbs 12 oz) and really stayed on her curve after the first initial huge drop
My babe pooped infrequently, every 14 days sometimes. They say this is fine, normal in some babies. Every poop was a blow out so it was kind of hard to tell, but it was liquidy, not pasty, they said that breast fed baby poop could be like this. This is not normal. Don’t let them lie to you. Normal babies poop 1-2x a day, sometimes they skip a day, but are pretty regular.
My baby took a bottle incredibly slow for months. We asked for help, but didn’t really get any. We saw multiple lactation consultants trying to get her to breast feed, but on bottle and off she would drink 30 ML (1 oz) in 30 minutes. This was 2 fold though because she had an undiagnosed posterior tongue tie that really also affected a lot. After getting it reversed though, it didn’t totally fix the issue. It wasn’t until all dairy, soy and corn, oats and legumes (basically I went paleo plus home made sourdough) were eliminated from my diet/milk and after starting omeprazole (we will get to this in a moment) that she started being able to drink at a normal pace. This plus mouth stretches for the tongue tie. 4 oz in 15-20 minutes was finally a thing. The first 4 1/2 - 5 months of her life we held a bottle in her mouth probably 10-12 hours a day.
From the beginning she was phlegmy. She’d cough on the bottle a lot, gag while drinking. The pediatricians that we saw would just say they didn’t really know why.
Gas pain was horrible. Her farts were louder than mine and frequent and we constantly had to bicycle her legs, try to stretch her and help her pass gas for months. Nothing really helped.
She did not sleep well. Horrible. She slept in 45 minute cycles for months.. around 3 months this randomly got a bit better. 3-4 month period though it hit hard and we could not set her down to sleep. I started having to co sleep out of sheer necessity. We were exhausted and it was becoming incredibly dangerous. If she knew I laid down with her, she’d wake up bawling. I’d have to sit in bed rocking her, transition us both into a spooning position (she slept better on her side, with her head propped up on my boob she refused to latch on)
She wouldn’t sleep in her crib. She was in a foldable little bed sleeper in between us for months. She was small anyway so she fit.
When we realized she preferred being propped up a bit, we got a manual rocking bassinet at 4 months that inclined. Her sleep started improving for a bit..
Then we hit the dark era at 3 1/2 months. This was about November 13th.. She grew big enough to out drink me. She was drinking more than I could pump. We introduced Aptamil formula to supplement (we had done this previously for a few days without issue, but when we had shortages before my SIL gave us some of her frozen breast milk) everything was fine for about 5 days then our baby started becoming a different baby. She was at least calm and pretty happy before, but now she started getting angry. We didn’t know what was happening, we thought we hit the 4 month sleep regression early, since she was refusing to sleep. Back to 45-90 min increments. Then we thought she was teething. She had the red face teething rash …? And was drooling A LOT. When we saw our pediatrician she just told us our baby wasn’t teething, and babies are just fussy sometimes.
Something weird started happening. She started pooping more. I was like, oh the formula is helping her stomach, she’s more regular with her poop. Then became overly excessive. 3-4 x a day.. with mucus but we didn’t know what mucus poops were. Then we had the rotavirus vaccine. I’m not sure if there’s milk in there or if it can just cause general GI issues for some babies, but my LO started pooping 7x a day. :(
All the fussiness, ugh. I feel so guilty even now but my husband and I were getting incredibly frustrated. We both at random periods yelled at our poor baby. He got headphones to drowned out her crying while holding her. I remained calmer but it was just so bad. I remember putting her in her crib and yelling at her to shut up. I had reached a breaking point. At least she was safe in her crib. I cried so hard.. so exhausted between pumping 7x a day for minimum of 30 minutes, holding her while she’s screaming all the time and never getting to sleep or eat. My baby had COLIC. Literally wouldn’t let us set her down without screaming, bottle refusal. It’s like everything we had been experiencing just got way way worse. Our oral therapist couldn’t work with us anymore because my babe was so far gone, she thought it was physical. She referred us to an in home occupational therapist with oral background to help with tongue tie stuff.
This occupational therapist (this is November 29th I think, 2 days after our 4 month check up and shots and the pediatrician just basically saying all of this is just normal) asked about our baby’s poop toward the end of the visit. Asked us to send her photos. She said she’d forward them to a GI specialist friend. I think her baby had dairy issues too, so maybe she knew.. and told us that those poops looked mucusy and maybe my baby had an issue with dairy… which I didn’t understand because I was eating dairy the whole time, but the formula is more direct.
This was around December 2nd I think I was like, maybe she’s right. Okay, time to cut out dairy, I went paleo. We quit the aptamil formula for a few days and used my frozen stash (of only 60 oz, so sparingly) Two days later we went out to eat though and I had something cooked in soybean oil. Fussiness came back. So we figured soy was also a trigger a few days later... So hardcore paleo I went, plus sourdough.
My milk wasn’t gonna last forever, though. I got some gerber HA which lead to some serious stomach issues (bad gas pain, waking up screaming) we quit that one fast. They say to trial for a bit but it was clear this one was a no go. Back to my freezer stash to even LO out. 3 days worth of supplement before trying the next formula.
We switched to kendamil goat milk infant formula. We were good for about 7 days then the colic started up again. I think this protein is similar to cow milk. Once it built up, it was a no go. Back to my freezer milk.
So we asked for amino acid prescription. Neocate. This was hard because my baby really really refused it. We could only get her to drink it flavored with alcohol free vanilla and watching tv, and only 2 oz at a time. She started developing a rash on her cheek again. Really bad. We tried for a week or a bit longer but the bottle refusal was getting too bad.
At this point we also asked our pediatrician for acid reflux medication. I thought my babe had silent reflux. She had been dealing with reflux symptoms with no spit up for months but I didn’t really know/understand and my pediatrician basically said that reflux is normal in babies. My LO was 5 months at this point. This was December 29th or so. We also started solids hoping it’d help sleep issues and her drink less milk..
I had made a desperate post on human milk for human babies. Someone in our area was dairy, gluten, refined oil and soy free. We switched over and our baby started sleeping 90 min to 2 hour increments. This was December 24th.. our Christmas gift! More sleep and a bit happier baby.
Everything was getting better. I trialed oatmeal and that gave her bad gas. No go. I ate hummus and corn tortilla chips.. fussiness and gas. So I quit that.
It wasn’t too long until I realized that corn was a main thing in neocate. The rash made sense, but what didn’t was why some days my baby slept terrible and some days she didn’t.
It was the middle to end of February at this point when I realized my donor milk was causing sleep issues. This was the reason my babe only slept 90 minute increments randomly. On days we supplemented with 12 oz of donor milk we had a fussy baby with mucus poops who refused to be set down. On days where we gave 8 oz, stuff was a bit better. It was always better when we fed in the morning. Our donor eats corn a few times a week. We never know what we are gonna get but we don’t really have any other choice, so we now feed 4 oz of donor milk in the morning and I stay extremely regular with my pump schedule. I’m an under supplier with a thyroid problem and this really affects my milk release. That’s a whole other issue, but really the bane of my existence.
We saw a GI specialist at about 7 1/2 months and they basically just confirmed the allergies and said the red cheeks were definitely a sign of allergies and not teething, as they’d come and go. They talked about a feeding tube but my baby does look healthy, she’s just small. Chunky still though!
They sent us to a dietician (my baby is 1st percentile, but hey! We are finally on the charts from .3 percentile up to 1.3 and we are following our curve and it’s my milk that did that) who tried to figure out how we could get more calories in her as she randomly refuse solids.. this was at 8 months. They suggested trialing alimemtum RTF (corn free) to see if that would be better to supplement but babe started getting a rash/hives after only a day on it and fussy. I’m not sure what’s left to be allergic to besides refined oils (not in the donor milk, not in my diet)
We see an allergist on June 20th. My baby now is 10 months old in a few days. She is finally (this week) been in a weirdly very good mood. Her poop is pretty good. She’s eating 2-3 meals a day.
I think the allergies and not feeling good/needing to be held constantly by me for likely hormonal oxytocin release for her.. delayed her. We started seeing our oral therapist around 6 months again. We also saw a pediatric chiropractor at 7 months and my baby finally started rolling and doing normal baby things. She stopped swimming in tummy time and we did a lot of stretches directed via oral therapist to get body and mouth movement better and strengthening everything. She can now sit up on her own, crawled yesterday for the first time, rolls and pivots and scoots backwards, pivots in seated.. she’s on fire ! She even slept 8 hours straight yesterday! We graduated from oral therapy on Sunday.
She’s still a huge mamas girl and wants to be held by me, so I guess that might just be her personality lol.
Hopefully some of this story is helpful to you or someone else. It’s been an extremely long road and we aren’t sure we want another baby lol.

I have a Houdini on my hands. My older Sheltie did great in a martingale. My younger has slipped out of a nylon martingale, a half chain martingale, a slip lead, and a Julius k-9 harness.
We are going on a road trip, and I don't have my older Sheltie here anymore (rainbow bridge) to help keep her calm. Normally, I keep tags on a separate collar, and do a half chain martingale and the Julius k-9 with two leashes. I figured she can't undo both without me catching her before she wriggles out of the next one. And yes, we sized her with measuring tape before ordering, and even returned and sized down. Still escapes.
However, over Mother's Day she did it. Thankfully, we were in a park and she wanted to go play with my kids on the playground and wiggle butt back to me. But that could have been any road. And with my ILs watching her part of the time while we are away, I need something fool proof.
Anyone have any good recommendations? She is a larger Sheltie (oversized, and about 40lbs). I'd rather not do a full choke chain because she does tend to cough a bit when she pulls.

I've been staying in Sendai for roughly 5 weeks now. I got sick for a week a few days into my trip (Fever, achy body, sore throat, yellow snot, coughing for over 2 weeks), was feeling better for maybe 2 weeks and got sick again yesterday...
This time my symptoms are similar but more severe with the addition of a very runny/blocked nose and fatigue. I suspect it might be Covid or maybe pneumonia D:
I tried googling but couldn't find much info on where to get tested for Covid in Sendai, and the only self-test kit I could find was sold out and really expensive on Costco's website.
So, does anyone know what I should do in this situation? Are there clinics where I can get tested for Covid? Are school nurses of any help in a situation like this or should I straight up contact a doctor if the symptoms persist?
Thanks in advance!

I've been stealing weed from my family. I've never bought my own weed, I can't as I'm underage. I'm the youngest in a family full of stoners, none of them think I smoke because of my age. I stole an edible from my mom a year ago, and since I've slowly tried it again then started vaping it then smoking it and taking more and more. I'm aware this is incredibly scummy, a violation of privacy to go in their stuff and just really fucking shitty. I just overheard my brother talking to my mom about how he's noticed and I just feel so guilty. I've known it's bad, I've known its super messed up but I'm really good at ignoring things and once I got addicted (I get addicted to things super easy because of it running in my family and adhd even if weed isnt physically addictive or whatever idk) its like the urge to do it again and the constant need to get high covered my guilt before it could sink in what i was doing.
I've known its wrong and I don't need you to tell me that. It sucks. I'm coming clean to my mom tomorrow. It's like, I've always been aware of how shitty it was, but because my life is so unhelplessly vacant and uneventful the strong drive to do it again and get high again made me keep doing it. I feel so fucking guilty and I just can't
I kept saying "I'll just do it less, ill smoke every few months instead!" but that never lasted. I can't ever stay sober for more than 3 days, it's always 3 days/smoke, smoke/2 days/whatever
I ignore the sobriety tracking app notifications on my phone, I distract myself (sometimes by getting high) when I think about what i've been doing. its my biggest secret im hidiing it form everyone in my life
my friends dont know i smoke and they think its gross bc of our age
I know my siblings have noticed, but I'm worried my older sibling thinks my brother did it or one of his friends. I really can't handle the thought of someone else taking the fall for that, I can't keep doing this. I know I can easily stop if they know.
I wish I wasn't so good at ignoring parts of myself like this.
I just need to stop. I just. Can't anymore.
I'm quiet and keep to myself and I'm very conflict avoidant and the "innocent" of the family so I'm just so terrified of what'll happen and I don't wanna face it. I know I have to. I'm literally shaking writing this which is probably stupid bc everything that will/might happen would be entirely deserved.
i need to quit in general considering me being in school my memory is so fucking bad. i barely retain any information from school i barely process any of it anymore, im guilty and weak i know that if there was even any obstacles socially aka me telling my family ive been taking their shit i would be able to stop. i already have bad teeth bc im poor and ED struggles in the past and smoking certainly isnt helping. plus my dad died of lung cancer and with everytime my throat burns from inhaling smoke and everytime i cough when i used to rarely ever i feel myself grow a little worse as a person as i do something i know i can only do because of invading my families privacy and stealing their things and something that is actively fucking up my brain and my life
my brother and mom are still talking as i write this. none of this feels real god nothing in my life does
i usually distract myself with stupid shit, tv and videos and tiktok and music and doing anything to shut out my thoughts . im resisting the urge to calm myself down by watching a video or something because i dont think i should be shoving away my thoughts and distracting myself because i really havent let myself sit down and think about this in the past year.. except for when im high.
god i just remembered my other brother once asking me if i did and i lied straight to his face and i almost threw up afterwards. he even said he didnt mind sharing... why didn ti come clean? why didnt i? why cant i just be honest with myself that was such a dick move god
sorry i know this is a bit of like a vent
i just dont know what to do. i mean i know i need to come clean and i will tomorrow but idk how im gonna deal with it.
my mom will probably be mad but be understanding, but my siblings will 100% be totally pissed. i dont want to totally destroy any kind of relationship i have with my family, and ik i shouldve fully thought before i started that or even so i could stop before it got to this point but i just really didnt want to. it sucks but i just simply love the feeling of being high and in moments with deep cravings for some fucking reason my addiction would rather me do this awful shit and not think about it than stop.
how do i stay sober? how do i push through and come clean without procrastinating or chickening or victimizing myself or shutting down? how big of a deal is this like will this permanently change how everyone sees me? how do i take the blame fully when its like i dont want to? i know im in the wrong and i feel so guilt ridden but its like my brain keeps wanting to not take blame its just ughhh
if anyone has any advice or wisdom they can give me it would be really really appreciated. anything 💜

I am trying to get a contract in the military asap ( yes I know I’ll need to go in on waivers bc of subs ) and needed to wd / taper quickly. Before I say anything, tapering is a MUST. I always felt guilty as if I was just afraid to face the music but I gotta say, I wd for three days off of 8mg before and I thought I was going to die right then n there. Right now I’m wd off .25mg and I feel a lot better than I expected. Frankly I felt sicker tapering than I do now. With that said here is my regiment: 1) first n foremost, IMODIUM IS YOUR BEST FRIEND, TRUST ME ON THIS. You need to be extremely careful if you have any heart issues bc it can cause major complications if taken in excess of 16mg daily for a prolonged period of time but if you take it moderately I promise you dear friends, it will mitigate the absolute worst of the symptoms. Constipation then committing war crimes on my toilet days later was always an issue when wd for me but I’ve been able to function in that regard just fine so far ( im day three right now) which was a major surprise considering Imodium is anti diarrhea medicine. So far im taking 6mg daily, two in morning, one before bed (2mg pills). Will update on whether or not I end up having to wd from Imodium too but I suspect it won’t be too bad / will be negligible compared to sub wd. 2) high doses of vitamin c. Liposomal vitamin c is what you want as the bioavailability is much higher but regular will work too just to a lesser extent. 5000mg a day (125lb body weight male) is what I’m taking. If you look up definitive withdrawal survival guide there is a link to detailed chart with body weight conversions / doses so you can tailor your dose just right. 3) lucemrya is the brand name of this last medicine I am taking however clonidine is very similar. How much this actually helps I am not really sure of yet. One thing I can say for sure is when I tried wd with just this and no Imodium I felt horrible. Also it is something similar to benzos so Be very careful. This is coming from someone who was on 5-10mg of benzos daily for around a year. With that said it is far more mild than say alprazolam but if you’ve never experienced taking anything like that I’m not sure you want to introduce that into your drug compendium.
Lastly and arguably the most important as this will prevent you from enduring this again, get support. It can come in any form, for me it’s literally reading through everyone’s stories here on this forum, over and over and over. What’s most important is your health and sometimes bearing whatever side effects of Suboxone are better than the alternative but if you do find yourself in a situation where you need to withdrawal like I find myself in now, there are so many wonderful people out there whom have gone through this and many of them are in this forum or have at least contributed to it if they’re not active anymore. If anyone does happen to read this , I wish you the very best with whatever route you choose to take.
Ps. I don’t think I posted anything about my desire , well necessity to go into the military on here but I will give an update about what happened and a guideline on what to say to recruiters / details with medical docs / etc if it does in fact work out.

Some earlier versions of these lyrics were posted to this page but most of them are newer and all of them recently revised. Here's the tracklist:

1. I could see myself doing something like that:
2. of course
3. such were the spirits
4. relenter / kingfucker / inoculation day / jamais vus type beat
5. chooses a role (cough, cough)
6. ether, malnourish me
7. collisioner
8. a wasp
9. a hug
10. evil hukka

1. I could see myself doing something like that:

It’s easy to cry in pale rain.
I’ve never bought one torch.
Ravage swamp-bugs for meat.
I’ve killed a goblin before.
..What is evil after?
It’s easy to die in these pale plains.
I’ve never rode that way, the wretch told me of orcs.
Savage, twelve-foot tall monkey-type thing.
I’ve killed a troll before…
What if I’m free here, but it’s harsher?
The post-apocalypse feels more like home.
I’ll eat the stairs in a biblical faltering.
Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?
Well, I slit its ankles with my blades.
He fell to his knees and I struck his thin belly.
He let out a roar that has rendered me blind.
It’s blood harbored light that rendered me deaf!-
But who the fuck is the laughing now?!....
But it’s cursed and it’s rising and I’m too weak and-
My skills are disproportionate, as has been beaten in, but-
I’m too dim to be smart and too smart to lay down-
But it’s cold and, to be honest, I like it better underground.
Oh, what the fuck are you laughing at?
What if I’m free here, but it’s harsher?
The post-apocalypse feels more like home.
Where’s the joke?
*spoken*
..And in this crumbling kakistocracy, I fill the bookshelves with hobo ramblings.
Made of nothing but fool’s gold and unethically sourced leather, failing without learning.
It’s in tomorrow’s ledger to meet up with someone you don’t meet everyday, for a drink.
He’ll bring illegal, but ethically sourced cigars and an armagnac and force you to think.
He questions you on your morals, as a human. He considers what you consider to be-
Obligatory or supererogatory (the opposite of obligatory). His name is Frances Armchair.
(Mr. Armchair with his armagnac, ah that’s fun)- He questions your stance of certain-
“Objectively bad things” such colonialism and bigotry and that makes you mad and you get quippy.
(Not daring to actually discuss or argue, but to peacock) His name was of no importance.
He’ll bring you illegal goods to help you do what you know is right. (Ancom calisthenics)-
And you will cuddle, at night, with your contraband because you hold it so dear.
You can not let it fall into the wrong hands. You have an amount of responsibility.
Now.. It is time to place the contraband on the altar, can you do that? (Thanks)
You are loved, you have been loved, you will be loved.. I won’t go as far as to say “I am loved’
..That would be plagiarism.. What else? (We shall see our kingdom come) -Oh, yeah.
“We shall see our kingdom” come. Proverbially of course, that’s from a song. You wouldn’t know it.
It’s called “New Tomorrow” by the legendary pink dots. I really feel that album in my spine.
It talks about how peace in our time is possible if we just- ..Heh, you’re uh- ..starting to get quippy again…
(Bring back the secondary words..)
(Never would have pegged you for the fascist type..)
(I’ll infernalize your life, forfeit spine..)
(Bring back our King California..)
(He boils that water that corrodes..)
(Bring back our King California..)
(He boils that water that corrodes..)
(He will shove his jaw into your knee..)
(He judges when it is “time..”)
I’ve killed a rat before..
I’ve killed an ox before..
I’ve killed a tiger before..
I’ve killed a rabbit before..
I’ve killed a dragon before..
I’ve killed a snake before..
I’ve killed a horse before..
I’ve killed a goat before..
I’ve killed a monkey before..
I’ve killed a rooster before..
I’ve killed a dog before..
I’ve killed a pig before, yeah…

1. of course

Uncomfortable warmth is worse than the inferno.
Of course, I wouldn’t survive such magnitudes of hell-fire.
I’d be in the void then, for I curse the eternal.
Isn’t it life to want to die eventually?
I bet the pawn shop would take this..
I bet the pawn shop would take this…
Stalking Summer Alley with a silly-putty smile.
Black knife in twisted holster, I stalk the mile-
Like an amped up, train-to kill pit-bull brought up in the denial of humanity!
Sorry, I was distracted by the sober arts; I was wrong in that regard..
I bet the pawn shop would take this..
I bet the pawn shop would take this…
*spoken*
Boiling hiccupsitt in the transitory gerd.
Boiling hubkus eaters triggering my sister’s gout.
Of course I want you to use words that I’ve never heard.
That’s the mark of a good writer, man.
Swerving through plains of mod-podge flocking.
Of course the reigns were never there.
That’s the mark of the beast, man.
Swinging in a motel room with moving eyes on the paintings.
And it is in that room where I do what I can to rectify my useless failings.
I bet the pawn shop would take this medallion that may or may not be legitimate.
And it is in that shop where the world comes face to face with ultimate evil.
(I am growing spiteful of any tears.
I'm afraid that I'm making a persona because I'm actually plastic and clear.
I'm afraid that nothing is in here but impressions and fate.
I'm afraid of being a victim of hate nonetheless, but I hate thinking of myself as a victim.
I'm afraid I can't get over the smallest hiccup.
I'm afraid that I can't love and that I can only obsess.
I'm afraid I can only think what is regurgitated through my ears.
Such are my fears and such were the spirits.)
Oh, of course I knew that fucking bastard!
It was the flowers from his grave that were sent to me!
He was a scorn-worthy descendant of the Mayflower!
I never scorned him, he always evaded my attacks!
Oh, what do we have here but a coward? Mark my words-
I’ve left America with my weakening mother-
But I’ll come back in a revenge plot and dig your grave.
You sicken me.. You sicken me..
Regurgitate under fairy lights!
Get distracted once more by the impaired arts!
The man say “mark me”, I say nothing & slit!-
Once more, back for the fight!
Like an anime revenge plot over 900 episodes!
The man say “wait, oh!”, I say nothing & don’t quit!
I bet the pawn shop would take this!
Skating on the red mod-podge floor, baby!
The fight is in me, oh, the fight is in me yet!
Who in hell knows what of this I will forget?!
Regurgitate under fairy lights!
Get distracted once more by the impaired arts!
The man say “mark me”, I say nothing & slit!-
Once more, back for the fight!
Like an anime revenge plot over 900 episodes!
The man say “wait, oh!”, I say nothing & don’t quit!
I bet the pawn shop would take this!
Skating on the red mod-podge floor, baby!
The fight is in me, oh, the fight is in me yet!
Who in hell knows what of this I will forget?!-
I bet the pawn shop would take this..
Yeah, beating-beating-beating-beating-beating-
I bet the pawn shop would take this..
Yeah, beating-beating-beating-beating-beating concrete-head…

1. such were the spirits

Is it pathetic to wish for peace?
Does the climate police hope?
Where the crickets wax and wane-
Will the army be the same?
It can't be that nothing's around here.
Half of my childhood was in that plaza.
Blame it on the kids that set that bomb.
What's wrong?
…I can't stop myself at the best of times.
My lunch turns to sand and becomed dinner.
I've never been a winner and probably won't ever-
No-no-no-no-no, not in your terms, bitch..
No-no-no-no-no, not in your terms, bitch…
Is it gross to hate blind hate?
You deserve no thanks for crumbs.
Where the universe lies in a crease-
When you get to that junction-
Revere the least noteworthy object.
Rock and a hard place type beat on my shoulder.
Blame it on the messenger when they set that bomb.
I am only that body..
I spoke to the council..
I hate that fucking noise.
Make it, just.. Make it stop..

1. relenter / kingfucker / inoculation day / jamais vus type beat

Never was the king so pompous.
“What has changed?” as they snort their snuff.
My heart still bleeds for the screen is cracked.
The king’s blood pumps on clacks, ashes, and acid and it’s so loud..
So wave your wand, sugar.
Intoxicate en masse with your graveyard tactics.
The side effect of the cure of folly is what?
“..Do you want to see more” with a snide smirk.
The heart at the center still bleeds for nothing.
The jester does not jest at night, but there, the light, it’s so loud..
So wave your wand, sugar.
Intoxicate en masse with your graveyard tactics.
The side effect of the cure of folly is what?
Yeah.. Yeah.. Yeah.. Yeah, come-
Globalism 2.0..
Globalism 2.0.. Uhh-
The brute..
The brute..
The brute..
The brute is coming..
What of justice?
What of jury?
What of dignity?
What of purity?
The brute..
The brute..
Kingfucker rail on, take the rail and run him out of the town!.. Or kingdom!-
Kinkfucker is coming, cowhide stitched onto his skin, from the tops of trees!..
Then is he evil by nature or coercion or decision?!
Screaming “holy lungs” from the tops of trees!.. The brute!..
What of my purity?
What of my titles?
What of humanity?
What of the judge?
“; The brute..”
The brute..
The brute..
The brute is coming..
What of respect?
What of the inferno?
Please, I beg..
What of dignity? ...
Peel the skin from the cold, brick walls.
I want to fuck the grain from it’s inception.
The brute coming, the brute coming in, so-
Peel the skin from the cold, brick walls.
I want to fuck the grain from it’s inception.
The brute coming, the brute coming in, so-
Relent.. Relent.. Relent….
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
(hmmm-hmm-hmm-)
What am I going to do with all this silence?
I can now frolick in the garden and street.
What can I do now that the sun has darkened?
I can now frolick in eternal night and enjoying this makes me weak.
Inoculation day happens for us all, kid.
Regurgitate: waiting whilst behold kitschy art, y’know-
A layman may say: “Where is the heart?” I’d say: “deep in”
Feeling ill in the ink-black rain.
There is no use to fight it;
The pain has come again..
And it won’t be the same..
I have no hands to lend..
I need a hand, myself..
The pain has come again..
And it won’t be the same..
I have no hands or feet-
But my fingers and toes are under my belt…
Inoculation day happens for us all, kid.
Regurgitate: waiting whilst behold kitschy art, y’know-
A layman may say: “Where is the heart?” I’d say: “deep in…”
*4m instrumental, separate motion, synth led, something soloing, 6/8, weird samples, delay effect*

1. chooses a role (cough, cough)

What if I made a lo-fi masterpiece?
Field test my personality on reddit.
I never wanted to choose just some role.
Whadda ya know? I’ve fallen ill again.
Clumsy me, cough, cough. Stay away.
Nothing is safe for I can’t fake it anymore.
I’m awake to my affliction, loss of love.I’ve already grieved so much, but not enough.
I’m awake to hug a tree yet loss of life obligates me.. to choose…
The sky gray and the ruins have been ruined.
No more foundations to house the starving druids
Leave this life to find the stars, AUs away..
I know you can’t stay, but can you wait a moment?
Play some cards, drink some vodka so as to not fade from my weakening brain.
Let me render this frozen and then on all the sites, I’ll look up your name..
Order my crucifix to be upside down and burn the cut-out of your face.. In the bathroom sink…
What if I did something different out of spite?
Fetal and afraid to be in color of the right, let me out.
Yeah, I never wanted to choose just some role.
Whadda ya know? I’ve fallen ill again.
Clumsy me, cough, cough. Stay away.
Nothing is safe for I can’t fake it anymore.
I’m awake to my affliction, loss of love.I’ve already grieved so much, but not enough.
I’m awake to hug a tree yet loss of life obligates me.. to choose…

1. ether, malnourish me

I was looking at the door-jam..
Looking up at the mirror..
Trying to find some meaning.. in the corner..
I finally found a window to a greater truth..
I wisely shut the blinds, man…
Brute force my way into the cage.
I fight a rattlesnake wrapped around an ape.
I saw my friends in the dusty pot-lights.
I realized they weren’t my friends and then continued to fight.
I don’t currently have friends because I’ve been in isolation.
Brute force my spirit from station to station to-
Ether, malnourish me there!...
The keys were in the car.
I thought about driving to the park.
I recalled, I don’t know how to drive.
I drove anyway and, for the first time, felt alive, oh-
Ether, malnourish me there!...
A plaque on the wall in a language I don’t know.
If I knew the language, I would know the final truth.
I wander the forest without a map and it shows.
I wander the hill for the fountain youth and now-now!...
Where have you been, California king?
Have you been down there; a wet, red thing?
I broke into the house and drank milk from the carton.
Set up my Bluetooth speaker, left and blast Dolly Parton-
Jolene, malnourish me there!..
Ether, malnourish me there!...
Can we see our kingdom come?
..In the graveyard, wasting it there.
I’m not gonna be a pussy anymore.
I’m in the graveyard, droppin’ it there.
I’m addicted to it but not that you’d know, ah-
In the graveyard, wasting it there.
I’m not gonna be a pussy anymore.
I’m in the graveyard, droppin’ it there.
I’m obligated to it but have nothing to show for it, ah-
In the graveyard, wasting it there. (A plaque on the wall in a language I don’t know-)
I’m not gonna be a pussy anymore. (If I knew the language, I would know the final truth!)
I’m in the graveyard, droppin’ it there. (I wander the forest without a map and it shows-)
I’m addicted to it but not that you’d know, ah- (I wander the hill for the fountain youth and now-now-now!)
In the graveyard, wasting it there. (A plaque on the wall in a language I don’t know-)
I’m not gonna be a pussy anymore. (If I knew the language, I would know the final truth!)
I’m in the graveyard, feeling it there. (I wander the forest without a map and it shows-)
I’m obligated to it but have nothing to show for it, ah- (I wander the hill for the fountain youth and now-!-!!)
Yes!!.. Yes!.. Oh, yes!!.. Er-Yes, yes, yes, yes-yes-yes!!...
The keys were in the car.
I thought about driving to the park.
I recalled, I don’t know how to drive.
I drove anyway and, for the first time, felt alive, oh-
Ether, malnourish me there!..
Jesus, come back right now!..
Ether, malnourish me there!..
Jesus, get crucified again!
Get crucified again, please!!..
There’s a piece of me in the world’s every hair.
I sneak into a hospital and operate on a dare.
I put a surgeon’s gown on and perform a craniectomy.
I imbue myself in every ant and every stream of electricity-
Jesus, come back right now!..
Ether, malnourish me there!..
Jesus, get crucified again!
Get crucified again, please!!..
Get into the, get into the!-
Get into the eternal quilt of light!...

1. collisioner

When the rain cascades down the window in a way..
It’s like the water forms a thin shell around our home..
That’s god, the thing..
The water doesn’t seem to be clear anymore..
All orifices gouged for max monetary benefit..
C’est la vie, it seems..
Spill water & look around.
The entire ground’s been flooded.
Kill the moth & cry.
Send it back up to the sky.
I don’t want my cat to die-
But she’s reverting to kitten behaviors.
Keep the mosquito from my ears and eyes.
Y’know, for all my labors, the bowl is still full…
Meteors collide on only my sleepless nights.. I know-
Meteors collide on only my sleepless nights.. I know…
And I wear amethyst to calm or energize, I’m not sure..
In the coal-mine, being chased by the mine-cart, what to do?
..And my dreams collide with yours and good karma ensues..
If I’d see you in this big city, town-vibe, I would simultaneously know what to do and not know what to do..
Isn’t it pathetic and plagiaristic of me to still not be over you, you nothing thing?…
And I strain you..
And I strain it all-
And I strain you..
And I strain it all–
..Colander separates water from beach!
..Filter the waste, distill it, bring it back to me!
Bring me back from the brink, bring me back to me!
Bring me to the stage to perform this multi-part suite!
What my family wants and what the government wants!-
And what nature wants and what community wants! Oh-
“What about it?!” I don’t know.. I just, goddamn it!..
And I’m wanting everything..
And I’m wanting everything..
At the worst possible moment-
I’m wanting everything…
And I strain you..
And I strain it all-
And I strain you..
And I strain it all–
Spill water & look around!
The entire ground’s been flooded!
Throw the bullet into the Nile!
Send us back up to the sky!
I don’t want my beauty to die!-
But it’s showing signs of fading!
Keep the sun from my face!-
And I might keep this damn elusive grace!
…But what is evil?
..But what is evil?
Meteors collide on only my sleepless nights.. I know-
Meteors collide on only my sleepless nights.. I know–
Never was I such the spit of someone that I so loathe-
Meteors collide on only my sleepless nights.. I know-
Meteors collide on only my sleepless nights.. I know–
Never was I such the spit of someone that I so loathe..

1. a wasp

Rail the pole, the delirious fly-paper.
Hold me back, to be one thing for him…
I’ve killed myself before-
It is your turn to hold the blade.
Grab my jaw from above-
And pull me down to you hatred-
The rail’s the pole, I’m stuck to it-
Betrothed to it, for the season!
Prolong the beating!
Prolong the music!
Prolong the hiding!
Hiding the prolonging!...
Enter comatose state.
Baked on “all the same.”
They settle out to one wavelength.
It feels like 20 hours when it’s only been 8..
Rail the pole, the delirious fly-paper.
Hold me back, to be one thing for him…
And I strain-
..Enter comatose state.
Baked on “all the same.”
They settle out to one wavelength.
It feels like 20 hours when it’s only been 8..
Rough, motor fly.
Lay eggs in my eye.
They’ve been feeling kinda dry-
Now that you mention it.
I’ve killed a moth before.
It was devastating.
The fly blasts on.
The red light divines my room..
But now I left my room..
There was a wasp in my room..
I strain the hangman to its suffocation.
Forfeit dignity to gain ego elimination.
I strain the centaur to its torture and binding.
Forfeit body to the primal mind it’s been dying for. I strain the hangman to its suffocation.
Forfeit dignity to gain ego elimination.
I strain the centaur to its torture and binding.
Forfeit body to the primal mind it’s been dying for…
I strain the hangman to its suffocation!
Forfeit dignity to gain ego elimination!
I strain the centaur to its torture and binding!
Forfeit body to the primal mind it’s been dying for!
I strain the hangman to its suffocation!
Forfeit dignity to gain ego elimination!
I strain the centaur to its torture and binding!
Forfeit body to the primal mind it’s been dying for!...

1. a hug

Get in the nest..
Our people are somewhere..
With flowers in their hair-
Our people are somewhere..
Give them a hug for me when they get there…
But I’m so tired..
Where can I travel?
..There is nowhere for me-
..I’m too weary to please…
Your people are somewhere..
With flowers in their hair-
Your people are somewhere..
Give them a hug for me when they get there…
Sometimes everything you need is behind you..
Y’know babe, if it isn’t there it is ahead..
And if we don’t see each other again..
I’m just glad we met..
With flowers in our hair..
But I’m so tired..
Where can I travel?
..There is nowhere for me-
..I’m too weary to please…

1. evil hukka (spirit of harold appearance)

Evil hukka!..
Evil hukka!..
I’ve killed a ram before..
I’ve killed a bull before..
I’ve killed twins before, yeah.
I’ve killed cancer before..
I’ve killed a lion before..
I’ve killed a virgin before..
I’ve dashed the scales before..
I’ve killed the scorpion before..
I’ve killed the centaur before..
I’ve killed the sea-goat before..
I destroyed the entire fucking well..
And I taught ten men to fish!...
There are souls trapped in that bubble.
In that painted world, where joy is lost.
In grief, where everything is photo-negative.
Crawling ghouls in dark, lightning-scourged hostels.
Hunting each-other while mating each-other-
Under the bubble of the evil hukka, now…
The powers that be have me distracted with these secret addictions- Oh!-
The powers that be and their pawns have fallen into the evil hukka..
Freedom comes around!..
Freedom comes around!..
There are ghouls in that damn bubble.
In that cruel world, where they jump for death.
In grief, something’s missing from the walls and ceiling.
I’m suggesting you break yourself and your furniture.
Hunting your brother, he is nothing but meat.
In the smoky haze of that bubble times ten.
You’re useless to resist, they’ve been bricked…
The powers that be have me distracted with these secret addictions. Oh!-
The powers that be and their pawns have fallen into the evil hukka..
The powers that be have me distracted with these secret addictions. Oh!-
The powers that be and their pawns have fallen into the evil hukka…
There was a creak and a pain and a hint of dawn.
A smell of paint and a muddied orange light bulb.
The cul de sac across the city still lies strong.
Unaffected by bomb threats, sucked into the hukka..
There was a feeling and a jarring sense of doom.
I saw a man with a bloody knife in a cold, blue light.
He was welded to a mining cart and swimming on the floor.
He was begging for water in a language that I didn’t know…
Evil hukka!..
Golem, help! Spirit affected me in womb!
Slam it in the crate!.. Nothing works like it-
Shut the fucking front door! (Let me in!)-
Evil hukka!..
Shit, man, help! Spirit got me too soon!
Slam it in the, ohh!!.. Nothing works like it-
Shut the fucking front door! (Let me in!!)-
Evil hukka!..
Sugar, help! My mind was melted by spirit!
Slam it in the jar!.. Nothing works like it-
Shut the fucking town out, ohh!! (Let me the fuck in, Harold!)-
Evil hukka! (Harold I swear to god!-)
Harold, help! Spirit got me in darn womb! Ohh!!--
Slam it in the crate!.. Nothing works like it used to!..
But now the air-con is on..
But now the air-con is on..
-----------------tldr: I'm a little miffed
----feedback would be thrillsome. (I'm pretty proud of these, not too many uncommon words, cha-ching)

I’ve never really been that good of a person growing up. I’ve always skipped school, had horrendous grades, and I always had a general disregard for rules. To put it lightly, I was not going to be nominated for ‘Most Likely to Succeed’ anytime soon. My friend Molly was the exact opposite however. She was bright, always tried in her classes, and had way better marks than me. I had to admit, I was pretty jealous. But she wasn’t the kind of person to gloat and tease me for not having as good of grades as her. She sorta saw me as someone lost in their own teenage hubris and tried her best to keep me in line with varying results. At times, we were mistaken as brother and sister or boyfriend and girlfriend. And I was teased for a whole month for that. I surprisingly felt a little bad about my kind of crowd mixing in with the wrong people, but reassurance from Molly made me forget about it.
One thing about me that Molly knew very well was that I liked to explore abandoned places. No matter how illegal it was, I still found myself exploring every nook and cranny of any place I could find. Unfortunately, I was running out of places that were suitably ‘creepy’ for my taste. Now when I say creepy, I mean just the occasional urban legend surrounding the place that would ultimately be disproven very quickly. The only things that I found interesting about the places I went to were the gang markings that must’ve been a decade old and the occasional crackhead that couldn’t be bothered to even acknowledge my existence. Either way, my town doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to exploration.
Something that piqued my interest was the local zoo. It wasn’t abandoned whatsoever, hell, it was the exact opposite during its opening hours. Hundreds of people bustle in and see the animals every day because it’s the one of the only things to do in this town. I have to admit, it is pretty entertaining to see the animals every once in a while. But the reason why I saw this location as perfect was the fact that the place wasn’t completely empty aside from the animals. There’s this group of animal rights activists that try to break in and “release the animals from their torturous confinement”. Almost everyone hates this group and they’ve made more than one attempt to release them from their cages. One time they released them during the day and it caused quite a scene. Everyone had to leave early so that the animals could be put back into their zones and cages. With all of this said and done, I decided it would be quite the experience to maybe catch one of these attempts and see it for myself.
At school, I told Molly my plan and she laughed at my idea. She said that although it would be funny to see them in the act, I did have a chance of being caught by one of those lunatics and who knows what they’ll do to me. I told her that I’ve been doing this for a few years so I don’t think those idiots would know that I was ever there. I then asked if she could join me for the venture later tonight. She, of course, declined but I insisted. She said that she wasn’t experienced at all in whatever I do and that she doesn’t want to risk herself getting caught. I told her that even someone like her could do it and that two is better than one. She finally changed her mind when I told her that I’ll cover our butts when we get caught and tell them that it was my idea. She reluctantly agreed and she said she needed some rush in her life at some point anyway.
…
Later that night, We met up at a safe distance from the zoo’s entrance. We wanted to see the activists going in ourselves just so that we weren’t there for nothing. We waited in the dark for so long that I had thought they weren’t coming after all. The only light that illuminated the place was a lone street light that lit up the bold lettering on the sign up front that read, “Forest Ridge Public Zoo”. We decided to sneak around the side of the park property and see if we can find a ladder on the back of one of the shops that built their back walls bulging out of the side of the wall. As we rounded the corner, I shined my flashlight to the white backs of the buildings that lined up against the wall. That’s when I noticed a hanging ladder made of thick, white laced rope that was tightened by several knots.
“I guess they beat us to the punch. I didn’t even see them, did you?” I whispered to Molly.
“No, I couldn’t see much. It’s really dark out here. Either way, you wanna go first?” Molly offered.
I scrambled up the ladder and Molly soon followed. We overlooked the main entrance to the zoo and saw a little light flicker its way in different directions. I ducked under the ledge on the roof and quietly told Molly to do the same.
“Did you see that?” I said in a hushed voice.
“I think so. Who was that?” Molly whispered with a hint of worry in her voice.
“Calm down. I think that was a security guard. We need to get down to the main floor and see where these people went.” I whispered with a hint of worry in myself. We were both in new territory and I didn’t know the repercussions for getting caught.
I peeked over the ledge and only saw the faint shadows of the exhibits and no sign of life anywhere.
“The coast is clear. Follow me.” I whispered as I made my way to the rooftop door that led into the store below. I tried the knob but it wouldn’t budge. I’ve run into this situation many times before, so I pulled out my trusty screwdriver and my set of bobby pins. I inserted the bobby pins into the lock and felt the pressure of the springs in the door knob release. I carefully pushed up the springs into the cylinder and felt the oh so satisfying click of the dead bolt being released from the rusty strike plate. I signaled Molly that the way was clear and I carefully opened the door that led to the dark, concrete staircase that sent a pit of dread into both of us.
“We need to be careful down there. Not only do we need to avoid those activists, but we also can’t wake up the animals.” I whispered clearly and seriously.
“Okay.” Molly whispered back with some uneasiness in her voice.
We both crept down the stairs and took great care in not making any noise on the way down. As we were entering the last section of the staircase, we were met with a tight, pitch black hallway with a checkered pattern tile floor. I took out two pocket flashlights and handed one of them to Molly. I clicked the button on the light and a beam of light shone the ground below me.
“We can try the side door. Over here.” Molly whispers, pointing to the far left of the gift shop.
“Nice catch.” I whispered back. We made our way over to the side door and tried to quietly open the door only to be stopped by some boxes from the outside
“Damn. The boxes are in the way.” I hushed in frustration.
“Try and push them from the inside.” Molly suggested.
“No. I can’t risk the noise. We’ll need to go out the front.”
As we snuck to the front of the store, we heard footsteps coming to the store and we quickly split up into the aisles of the gift store. I turned my flashlight off and hid behind a shelf that had a bunch of stuffed animals on the shelves. As I sat there crouched behind the shelf, I saw a beam of light scan over my head. I heard footsteps slowly approaching my shelf and I quickly switched spots and dove into another aisle. I peeked over and I saw a black figure with a cap on. The figure shone a light onto my previous spot and I could just see the outline of the bold lettering on his jacket reading: SECURITY. I stayed quiet for what seemed like hours. That is until I heard the sound of the door opening and closing, and the footsteps fading away. I breathed a sigh of relief and slowly peeked out from my hiding spot. I looked at the window and saw nothing but the glare of the glass pane window.
I looked around for Molly and saw that she was hiding under the cashier’s desk. She looked petrified and felt glad that the guard was gone. I couldn’t blame her. It was her first time and these moments can get very tense.
“You did good. That was a close call.” I whispered with some relief in my voice.
“You did too. He almost caught you!” Molly whispered.
“He didn’t even spot you. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” I said mockingly.
“Oh shut up Jack.” She said playfully.
“Anyway, we should probably move. We can’t be caught in the same place.” I whispered with caution.
We quickly moved to the front door and I looked through the glass door to see if the security guard was still around. I couldn’t see much movement besides our shadows and I confirmed it was safe to go outside.
Beyond the glass door of the gift shop, most of the lights on the walkways were turned off. This was good for us as we needed to stay in the darkness to hide much easier. We carefully crawled and hid behind the zoo benches that were spread out in between the square bushes and the tall trees that covered our every move. We eventually got to a crossroads with a wooden sign that pointed to different directions to the zoo’s various different exhibits.
As I was pondering on which way we should go, Molly pointed to a sign on the floor that led to the big cats section. I picked the sign up and saw that it had the activists logo on the front.
“I guess we should start here.” I quietly said looking at the arrow pointing to the big cats exhibit followed by a little drawing of a lion right next to it.
We followed the path that was enclosed by thick, jungle-like trees that had their branches somewhat sticking out of the foliage and just intersecting the main concrete path.
“Jeez, they should really trim these trees a bit.” Molly remarked
“Yeah, they get pretty annoying when they're on the pathway.” I said, with a hint of annoyance at the pervasive foliage.
“What, you have experience?” Molly snarked.
“Yeah, I've tripped on these damn things so many times that I lost count.”
“Wow. Shouldn't the zoo do something about this? Isn't this a tripping hazard?”
“You bet your ass it is. I'd tell ya if my mom hadn't reported this place more than once. But the zoo doesn't do a damn thing about it. To be honest, I'm surprised they haven't gotten sued yet.” I said with a hint of comedy embedding in my anecdote.
“Wait, did you see that?” I said leading us behind a bush.
“What is it?” Molly asked with confusion on why we hid so suddenly.
“That.” I pointed at two mounds on the floor with two cube shaped objects next to each other.
“Do you want me to check?” I said with some shakiness in my voice.
“Are you sure? Is it safe?” Molly worriedly asked.
“I don't know. I'll check really quickly and see if it's safe.”
“Okay.”
I took a deep breath and gathered as much courage as I could. I got my flashlight and clicked it on. Its beam shined ahead of me and I stalked forward into the dim path that laid before me. As I got closer, I noticed a dark red liquid was sprayed over the gray pavement and an iron smell wafted into my nostrils. My heart dropped once my flashlight beam laid over the two mounds. The two mounds were barely recognizable as human. Chunks of flayed flesh surrounded them and their internal organs were splattered on the concrete with bite marks on the legs, hands, arms, and almost all over their torsos. I nearly threw up at the sight of it and I was too sick to notice that Molly had noticed the carnage as well.
“What happened here?” Molly said, shocked at the scene before her.
“I don't know. Did we just witness a murder?” I said, still gasping for air. As I scrambled to my feet. I noticed the two boxes on the floor with the contents spilled all over the walkway. I picked one up and saw it was a prescription bottle filled with white pills with green specks embedded inside them.
“Uh, Molly? What is this?” I said, handing her one of the bottles.
“This looks like amphetamine pills. What are they doing with these here?” She pondered to herself.
I looked to my right and saw the protective fencing and the wooden gating had been torn off. Just below the broken gate was cutting pliers and metal tins.
“Molly, what do amphetamines do again?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“It calms you down, why?” She said matter of factly.
“What are some of the side effects of amphetamines Molly?” I questioned, trying to lead her into what I was thinking.
Her face turned pale as she now knew what I was getting at. “It makes them angrier.”
I sighed in frustration at the situation and threw the pills on the floor. I put my hands on my head and started to think about what we should do next.
“Should we leave?” Molly questioned.
“No, I don’t think we can.” I said with some exhaustion in my voice.
“Why not?”
“Because those bastards will pin this on us! We don’t have gloves on do we? If we let them do this to the animals, I can’t imagine what would happen tomorrow morning. Then, when the police come and investigate, they’ll see our fingerprints and those nutjobs will pin this entire incident on us to cover their tracks!”
“So what do we do then, Jack?” Molly said, throwing her arms up in distress.
“We need to get some evidence that proves that we weren’t involved in any way. And stop these lunatics from hurting any of the other animals. If we catch them in time, we could possibly save the animals from being under the influence of whatever this medicine is.”
“That sounds all well and good Jack, but how are we going to do this?” Molly said, interested in what my so-called plan would be.
“While we were getting over here, I saw some security cameras. That must mean that someone is watching our every move. Now we need to find out where that is and find some footage that shows the activists entering and giving the animals the medicine. That way, we can’t be blamed for this and the activists would be screwed legally.”
“That sounds good, but what about the animals? How do we prevent them from being drugged?” Molly questioned.
“That…I do not know.” My answer did not please Molly one bit.
“You don’t know? Then, how are we supposed to do this?”
“Like I said, I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?” I said, hoping for some sort of answer.
“The only thing I could think of is that they’re asleep and we can take away the water they’re given.” Molly said with some hesitancy.
I thought about it and said “That might work.”
Molly looked back, “Hopefully.”
…
Underneath a large oak tree, we sat behind rounded square bushes and peeked over at the featureless building up ahead.
“This should be it.” I said, looking at the lack of detail of the building ahead of us.
“Are you sure this is it?”
“Hopefully. The building’s easy to miss.” I said, looking at my watch.
“2:00 AM. We need to hurry before the staff come in at 6.”
“Okay, the camera’s looking away. Go.” Molly and I quickly moved to the side of the building. Before we positioned ourselves, all of the lamp posts were shut off all at once.
“They found their way to the power supply. Is that a good thing?” Molly said.
“Yeah I think. More cover for us. And them.”
Molly did not like the last part.
“We’ve got our chance. Look out for anything and I’ll try and get the door open.”
I pointed my light to the keyhole and started to fidget around with the mechanism inside. It was relatively strong as expected and somewhat difficult to get the pins in the right place. Eventually, after many tries and gripes from Molly about being finished yet, the lock clicked open and the door slowly opened revealing its pitch black insides.
The room inside wasn’t particularly special, only containing shelves of boxes and crates. However, an open doorway was tucked behind a large, rectangular crate. After some help from Molly, the crate revealed what we were looking for. A series of monitors plastered the back wall of the room. Several monitors and servers were seemingly working perfectly. I went over to the main set of monitors and they all sprung to life. I clicked on one of the cameras that showed one of the exhibits and saw something that made my face go cold.
The exhibits were all empty.
I tried for the life of me to see if any of the animals were still in their cages, but none of them were. I saw lions and cheetahs roaming the food courts, gorillas and orangutans fighting in the shops, jackals and foxes rummaging through knocked over stands, and more animals outside of the exhibits. We were too late. It seemed that every single animal was affected. I looked around for any sign of the activists and I found nothing. Then I looked at the camera that was near the office and I saw the camera knocked over on the floor. Shortly before the camera disconnected, I saw the image of animalistic eyes looking directly into the camera.
“Molly lock the door NOW!” I frantically said, pointing at the open doorway. Molly, not understanding the situation, did so urgently and locked the security office door. Molly was about to ask what was going on until she saw the screen and immediately understood my reaction.
“Jack, what do we do?” Molly whispered, on the verge of tears.
I fell silent and I didn’t know what to say. What do we do? Reality set into me and I started to feel regret. “We should’ve never gone here. I should’ve never brought her here. We’re going to die here because of me.” Molly noticed how distressed I was and started to try in her best efforts to calm me down.
“We can’t get those animals back in their cages, Jack. That’s what we both know. What we can do is get out of here and call the police. All we need to do is leave. We just need to know how to do it.”
I nodded. “Yeah, we need to leave this place. We just need evidence first.” Molly agreed.
I looked back towards the computer and found a recording of the footage that had the activists in clear view. I downloaded the footage and saved it to a USB that was in one of the drawers.
I put the USB in my pocket and started to ponder. Ideas were floating around in my head and all of them were risky. I started to pace around the room and tried to grasp at something. Time was a luxury that we can’t afford to lose and I had to think of something that we could use.
“What’s the plan Jack?” Molly said quietly.
“We need to leave, but with those animals outside I’m not sure. The way we came in isn’t an option at all because of obvious reasons. Maybe something in this room?” I started to rummage around in the desks and found a Phillips head screwdriver tucked in between paperwork.
“Maybe this could work.” I thought. I looked around the room for something that I could potentially screw off and found a vent opening that was just small enough to look through to the other side of the wall. I scanned the room with the flashlight, and found nothing except the boxes and crates from earlier. The door that led to the destruction outside vibrated slightly in varying intervals. I didn’t want to think about what could be waiting for us beyond that door. I scanned the office further and found an opening in the corner of the room. The opening was blocked by large crates and wooden palettes. I looked towards the locked door of the security room and I reached for the knob. Molly must’ve seen my hand and asked, “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I think. I just want to check something.”
“Are you sure? What are you trying to check?”
“I saw this little opening in the back of the room out there.” I gestured outside the door.
“Okay then, be careful. For our sake.” Molly said, opening the door and watching me creep outside towards the end of the room.
I carefully moved the crates to the side and it revealed a square opening that is big enough for someone to crawl through.
“Come look at this. I think this is our way out.”
Molly comes over and looks into the darkness of the vent. The vent was dusty and tiny cobwebs were sticking to the corners of the vent.
“Ew Jack. There’s cobwebs in there.” Molly said, disgusted.
“Do you see any other way out of here?” I said, gesturing to the unknown darkness of the industrial closet that we trapped ourselves in.
“Good point Jack.”
“Come on, let’s move.” I crawled on all fours into the vent and Molly hesitantly followed after me. I shined the flashlight forward which led to my elbows touching the dust covered vent floors. I covered my arms and hands with my sweater, and started to hold in the need to release the phlegm in my throat which was waiting to be let out in a string of coughing fits. The walls of the steel vents echoed the thumps of arms and legs. I held my breath for as long as I could, waiting for something to come around the corner. Soon enough, I found the vertical lining of a cover at the very end of a short vent passageway. As I approached the vent cover with a screwdriver ready in hand, I stopped dead in my tracks as I heard the chilling noises of flesh tearing from bone. From the vent, I can vaguely see legs of an animal shaking from the tension of tearing meat from a particularly stubborn subject. Blood trickled down in a large red pool and it leaked into the crevasse of the vent. It reached my arm and my spine shivered from the very fate that potentially waited for us outside of this metal grate.
However, my thoughts were pierced by a sharp feeling of being watched. I looked at the grate and saw eyes peering into the darkness that contained both me and Molly. Its slit pupil narrowed into a snarl. A black jaw gnawed loudly at the grate which started to shake violently. I gripped the screwdriver as my life literally depended on it. Soon, the opening would be clear and my opportunity to strike would arrive for only a few moments.
The vent was now torn off and its head started to narrow into the opening and it aimed for my arm in order to pull me into the carnage outside. As its head shot forward towards my arm, I thrusted my screwdriver into the general direction of the animal. Its screeches echoed into the darkness of the helpless night. It staggered back and fell to the floor in pain. I scrambled out of the vent and looked at the creature. The first thing that caught my attention was its face. The screwdriver was buried into the creature’s eye. Blood trickled down in droves and its face alone said how much pain it was in. However, its face also showed unwavering anger and rage at whoever had done this to them. That unfortunate soul would have to wait because it had to escape. It bolted away and a small trail of blood followed it. Molly looked at me with terror in her eyes.
“Are you okay?!” Molly said, with panic in her voice.
I looked at my hand and saw blood running down into my sleeve. Further down my arm was a slight puncture into the cloth of my jacket. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it didn’t break the skin.
“Yeah, thank god.” I said, with a small sigh of relief
When I went to pick up the screwdriver, it was now covered in blood. The screwdriver shook in my hands and the feeling of doing such a thing to an animal gave me a sharp chill down my back.
“Jack, you’re shaking. Are you feeling alright?” She said from behind, laying her hand on my shoulder.
“I just hurt an animal. It didn’t have anything to do with those activists. Should I feel bad about this Molly?”
“No, I don’t think so. It attacked you, and you defended yourself. What else were you supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, Molly. It was drugged…it was angry. I feel like a monster.” I said, fighting back tears.
“Look Jack. It’s difficult to say what you're feeling right now, but now is not the time. We need to leave before one of those animals finds us.”
I look down at the puncture in my sleeve. “Yeah, we should.”
…
“Did you find anything?” Molly asked, leaning up against the wall.
“Not yet. A lot of the exits here are very risky.” I flipped through the cameras and scanned for any resemblance of some sort of exit with no luck.
I sighed, “I can’t find anything Molly. Do you have any ideas?”
“Well, there is the way we came in. But from the looks of it, we’d be lunch meat before we even get there.” Molly pondered.
I sat there in the chair for a minute and tried my hardest to think of something.
“We can try and wait till morning.” I said, trying to take a stab in the dark. I was interrupted by a sudden scratch at the door leading outside. That shot my idea down pretty quickly.
I sighed in frustration, planted my hands on the table, and looked down at the keyboard. I was drawing a blank yet again, and I looked at the security cameras yet again. I was fully expecting to find nothing yet again, but something caught my eye. In the horrible, pixelated screen in front of me was a gap in the middle of one of the outside walls that seemingly led to the back alleys of the main entrance.
“Molly, come look at this!” I beckoned excitedly.
“What is it? What did you find?” She said with piqued interest.
“Look at that right there.” I pointed at the slightly noticeable gap in the wall.
“What is that?” Molly said, squinting her eyes to try and make out the low quality image on screen.
“I think that’s a gap. It might be a way out.” I zoomed into the gap and saw a part of a pathway that led behind the buildings.
“Nice catch Jack! How’d you notice that?”
“I guess looking at the screen for a while has done me some good.” I said while looking at the map plastered on the wall.
“From that map on the wall over there, I think that crack is around the back of the cotton candy stand near the entrance. It shouldn’t be far from here.” I said, feeling in my pockets to check if the USB is still there and thankfully it was.
After gathering up the courage for the both of us, we headed into the vent for the second time and we were a lot more perceptive of our surroundings this time. I peeked outside of the vent and saw that it was clear this time around. We crawled out of the dusty, cobwebbed vent and advanced towards the path that took us to the front of the building. I looked to the floor and saw a small trail of blood that led around the back of the cotton candy stand. A sinking feeling of dread and exhaustion started to brew in my stomach, but the thought of that path being our only way out made my ever growing desperation for escaping stronger than the trail of blood that preceding us.
We climbed onto the dumpster and squeezed our way through the crack. Before us was a long concrete corridor with several stands blocking the left side. As we walked down this long passageway, we saw something slumped against the concrete wall to the right. Upon closer inspection, we saw something that made our hearts drop. A man slumped against the wall, with intestines hanging out and a gunshot wound under his cheek with the exit wound going out the top. His brain was splattered against the wall behind him with the blood splattering high. I couldn’t take it at this point. I dry heaved and my eyes started to water. Molly looked away with audible disgust and started gagging. The worst part of all is the bold lettering on the man’s jacket: SECURITY.
I looked back at the security guard and saw something beside him; a pistol. Around 4 9mm ammo cases lay on the floor. One of those must’ve been for him. I slowly approached him and picked up the pistol.
“Jack, be careful with that.” Molly grudgingly said.
“We need this Molly. If these…fucking animals wouldn’t give mercy to him, what do you think they’ll do to us?” I roughly said.
“We need to leave. There’s no time to waste Molly.”
We left the security guard’s body slumped against the wall, and we never looked back at it. I felt bad for him. I had no idea who he was, but no one should die like that; eaten alive by those affected animals.
We finally made our way to the entrance of the court. However, something made us stop in our tracks. An absolute nightmare lay before us.
Dozens of lions, leopards, panthers, and cheetahs were laying on the floor sleeping. We just stood there with disbelief and absolute horror. How are we going to get to the exit now?!
“What now?” I whispered as softly as I could.
“I…don’t know.” Molly shivered.
“We need to step around them.”
“What?” Molly whispered with shock.
“Can you think of anything else?” I whispered, hoping for a better plan.
Unfortunately she did not.
I looked around the mess of giant cats on the floor and saw a sizable gap in the chaos of tattered fur. I stepped forward and I landed my foot precisely in the middle of the gap. The problem was that it could only fit one person. I looked around for another spot and nearly had a heart attack when one of the lionesses yawned. It was still asleep, thankfully. I found another spot and stepped further in this organic minefield (however, in this case, I’ll be mauled to death instead of being blown to pieces). As I carefully stepped into the gap, I gestured for Molly to follow. She shook her head in defiance. I couldn’t blame her, but it was the only way we could get across. I couldn’t just talk her into it now, so I just continued on. Eventually, she started to make her way into the first gap in the path that was predetermined by the sleeping felines.
As we stepped our way through the field of giant cats, I saw a metal structure that was meant to be operated by a cheery salesman that would sell the overpriced chicken legs. Now, it was shut tight by metal shutters and a rusted sign stood as the only evidence of any sort of establishment. I looked towards Molly and I pointed towards the structure’s roof. She understood the plan and I stepped up on the wooden counter of the structure. I held the roof and set my other foot on the sign that lay crooked on the wall. I pulled myself up to the roof and looked towards Molly at the bottom. She soon began to climb up the structure and her foot landed upon the crooked sign. Then, a loud screeching sound emanated from the sign as the metal started to bend and break under the pressure. It then ended painfully with a loud clatter as it fell to the floor. It all took only 10 seconds, but it felt like it was 10 minutes. I looked at the lions below and I saw the twinkle of their eyes begin to dimly shine. Slowly, more and more of them started to get up from the concrete floor. I felt like time just stopped at that very moment. It tortured me with the feeling of death waiting for us just a few feet below us. A death that would be more painful and horrific than anyone’s imaginations. As the situation became more clear, I pulled Molly up to the roof as a large claw came swinging towards Molly’s leg.
Molly yelped and she stumbled onto the floor of the structure’s roof. I turned around and saw a gash on Molly’s leg. It was bleeding quite a bit and she was starting to panic. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her leg to try and stop the bleeding. Molly was sobbing, giant cats were clawing at the structure, and the exit was so close.
“Molly, remember when I said I’ll cover our butts if anything goes wrong?” She nodded with tears still in her eyes.
“I hate to say this Molly, but I’m going to draw them away. This is a stupid plan I know. But this is the only thing I could think of. Take the USB and the gun, and run.” I’ll buy you some time.”
“Jack…why does it have to be you?” She weakly said.
“I got you into this. It’s only right that you get out of here safely.” I said, slowly regretting my decisions up to this point.
Molly stared back at me. She didn’t say anything else.
I looked around for something to distract them with and saw the exhibits splitting off into different sections. I then thought about what happened earlier. One of the exhibits was opened by one of the activists and it should be enough to get inside. And with the animals out of their cages, it should be empty.
“I’m going to lead them to the exhibits. I’ll find a place to hide and see if I can wait them out. I’ll be fine Molly. Now get ready to run!” I positioned myself near the edge of the structure and looked towards the invisible pathway ahead of me. Thousands of possibilities ran through my head, many horrific scenes of disembowelment and a lot of blood. I washed those thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted.
And just like that, I jumped and ran into the darkness ahead.
…
My feet were pounding against the cracked concrete. A tight corridor of messy bushes was constantly shifting and rustling. The animals were chasing behind and beside me. I was hoping that the branches below me wouldn’t decide to get in my way now. Running through the dark has always been something that I was used to, but not to this extent. I finally reached the first exhibit and the two bodies still lay there with their entrails spilled all over the floor.
I looked to the right and saw the hole in the dark exhibit. I squeezed my way through the hole and looked around for something to cover it. I found a long piece of log sitting on the side and I pushed hard so that the heavy log could block the hole in the wall. Just as I did that, I heard the repeated slams against the metal gate. I shined the flashlight and saw multiple rabid eyes looking directly at me. It felt weird being in a cage like this and a bit ironic too.
“Now who’s looking at who?” I said to myself, with a bit of a smirk.
The clouded sky was now slowly being covered in a bright pink. The giant ball of fire we call the sun was slowly rising above the horizon. The shadows of the animals stretch from outside and my shadow stretches towards the end of the cage. In the shadows that have not been graced by the sun’s warm embrace, one singular eye opens in the corner of the cage. I looked towards it and a cold chill ran down my spine. A black cougar slowly moved out of the shadows with one eye still open. The other had blood dripping down from it. I knew that the thing that attacked me and dragged me from the vents, the one that tried to bite and maul me, the one I had stabbed with a screwdriver was now in a cage with the one that stabbed them; Me!
It prowled through the grass like I was their prey and its one eye narrowed onto me. I tried to feel for the screwdriver, but I felt nothing. It must’ve fell out of my pocket while I was running into the exhibits. I looked towards the floor and saw a branch on the floor. It looked sturdy. I picked it up and held it like a baseball bat. It shook in my hands and I felt like a poor prisoner waiting to be executed. Before I could compose myself, it dashed towards me with foam hanging out of its jaws. I aimlessly swung towards the foliage and I felt resistance vibrate from the branch and into my arms. A heavy thunk echoed through my ears and a growl rumbled from the grass. I backed away towards a mess of branches standing on each other and readied my branch like a batter at a baseball game. However, the fear of missing still filled my mind thoroughly.
I felt its singular eye watching me from every vantage point; to the left of me, to the right, and behind me. I looked behind me and was confronted by nothing but a tangle of grass and giant roots. However, the rapid crushing of foliage drew my attention towards the left and I was tackled to the floor with a black, furious head biting down on my branch. Blood ran down my arms and I didn’t know whether it was mine or not. Drool sprayed around me as it struggled to get past my wooden barricade that I had in my hands. I felt this trembling in the palms of my hands and my heart started to beat at a rate I can only describe as a trembling snare drum. My vision became blurry and the gnashing teeth came closer and closer to my neck.
A high pitched clicking sound broke my thoughts with the giant feline falling to the floor twitching. Two metal prongs poked out of the black, matted furry mass that lay upon the floor. A capable set of hands pulled me from the floor and led me out of the cage. The animals outside were long gone and the front entrance was desolate. As I was taken out of the zoo, I looked at my arms and saw several deep gashes along my arms.
…
I was taken to the hospital and had to get several stitches on my arms. The doctors saw that I had some infection in the wounds and I’ll have to treat it with antibiotics. When I got to the waiting room, Molly was waiting there with a white bandage over her leg similar to mine. She was glad I made it out somewhat okay. It was a miracle that we made it out with no life threatening injuries.
After we left, she told me what happened after I ran for the exhibits. She said that once most of the animals cleared a path, she ran as fast as she could towards the entrance and contacted the police through the booth. When they arrived and found me, she gave them the USB that showed who exactly was the culprit. When they checked the footage, it showed the activists drugging the animals through tampered water.
Later, we had to appear in court in another city. We had to tell our side of the story and leave out the sneaking in part. We just told them about how we found drugs around the back of the bathrooms and how we reported it to security. When they showed the security footage in court, the leader didn’t object to anything. He seemed to think that this was justified in some sort of sick way.
We weren’t there long enough to hear about his sentence, but I hope he gets at least life. This was several years ago and I’ve already graduated from high school and college. I finally pulled my life together and tried to stay safe. Molly and I still stay in touch and we meet every so often. I guess I can say I lived happily ever after, and it would sound a bit cliche. However, I guess it was the case this time around. And I think a happy ending is something that everyone wants. Anyway, I got to get back on my shift. The lions need tending to.