Sylvester stallone abandoned mansion and cars

Thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe!
Many praises to u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for their help with editing!
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Chapter 14: Godspeed
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Memory transcription subject: Vekna, Venlil Investigative Journalist
Date [standardized human time]: December 7th, 11:09, 2136
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We had torn down the road after Chase had identified the unmarked aircraft as a black-ops search team. Based on its heading and speed, there was only one thing we could think of that such a team would be looking for out here: Me. We needed to act fast. We locked up the hangar and sped down the mountain. Multiple times during our descent I was half-convinced Chase was going to veer us down the sheer slope as a shortcut. An insane part of me agrees with the sentiment. Herd knows we need all the time we can get.
We soon pull up at Chase’s cabin, the both of us hastily unbuckling our restraints. My tail whips about erratically as Chase ushers me inside. “Pack up, quickly! We don’t have much time before they come knocking!”
I heed his words without question, sprinting up the stairs to my room and hastily putting away everything that I have in my backpack. Holonote, clothing, journal, ration bars, water purifier, inhaler. Check, check, check, check, check, check. That should be everything! I sling the weighty luggage over my shoulder and pound my way down the stairs.
Chase is there, sitting at the table and writing something down on a piece of paper. I approach him, dumping the bag on the ground. “Chase, come on! We gotta go now! They’ll be here any minute!”
It’s only now that I see that he’s writing down… human numbers? Letters? Both? Why? What for?? Why would he need to write something down? He can just remember when he…when he…oh. No, I have to be wrong! I crouch so I’m in the line of sight of his downtrodden eyes. “Chase…you’re coming, right?”
I hear a short breath come from his nose as he blinks something away. “I…I can’t, Vekna. I’m not coming with you.”
My heart twists inside my chest at the realization that my worst thoughts were correct. I grab at his arm and physically pull him towards me. “No, no I need you! I can’t fly any of your vehicles, a-and I don’t know where to go, a-a-”
I choke back some mucus as I realize I’m starting to cry. I take a breath to calm myself before I suffer another shortlung attack. “I-I need you, Chase. Please…”
I can barely see his eyes below the shadows cast by his posturing. “Vekna, if I’m not here to distract them, they’ll come for you. They’ll catch up to you, and we’ll both go down.” He suddenly grabs both of my paws and looks me dead in the eyes. “You need to go. There’s an old contact I have down in Suriname that’ll be able to take you in. I’m writing down here everything you’ll need to know to get there safely.”
I look into his eyes through the moisture my own are producing. I just got here, and I’m already having to abandon him. “Wh-no! No! You said it yourself, if they catch you, they’ll-“
I’m stopped by a slender finger against my mouth. “That’s the point.”
I stare up at him incredulously pushing his hand aside. “I…what?!”
“If they have any good leads at all, I’m going to be the first person they come to investigate. I’ll be able to buy enough time for you to make it out of here. I’ve written down coordinates to put into the autopilot. It’ll be able to take you where you need to go.”
He shoves the paper into my paws. My translator starts to try and translate the symbols, but I don’t look at it long enough for it to finish. I stuff it in my backpack and look back up at Chase. “No! I’m not leaving without you! I won’t!”
He stares at me for a while, a silent look of sympathy. After a moment, he gets up from his seat. He walks over to one of his display shelves and retrieves another model from a high-up shelf. He sets it down on the table in front of me. “Vekna, do you know what this plane is?”
I can’t see how this is relevant, but I give it a quick look-over. It’s not once that he’s shown me before, but the red circles on the wings are familiar to me. “No, but it’s… Happenese, right? That’s the tribe you said the B7A2 belonged to a few days ago.”
He nods somberly. “Japanese, but yes. This is the Zero. It was a formidable fighter aircraft hundreds of years ago. They were used in a terrible war. The war your Federation saw that made you think we were monsters. As with everything, eventually technology caught up to it.”
He kneels down, cradling the model. “Japan was in that war, but were losing badly. Their pilots grew desperate. When they were out of fuel or low on ammo, they would sacrifice themselves by crashing into their targets. This wasn’t an act of evil, but desperation. A final attempt to save their homeland by giving up their lives.”
He sighs and meets my gaze again. “I am willing to sacrifice myself here to protect you. It may only be my freedom, but I will give it up nonetheless.”
The tears are streaming down my fur now. I try to sputter out a response, but all that comes out are incoherent whines and whimpers. Seeing my distress, Chase pushes the model into my paws, clasping them around it for me. “Take this, and you’ll have a part of me with you wherever you go. A reminder that even at our worst, however misguided, we still try to help others.”
I look down at the plane and clutch it to my chest. Seemingly satisfied, he stands again and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Now come on, we have to get you out of here before it’s too late.”
I nod and choke back more mucus as I follow him outside. He unlocks his Jeep and places me in the left-paw passenger seat. He buckles me into the restraints as if we were going back to his museum. He then moves to the other side, placing my bag in the driver’s seat as he fiddles with the autopilot. It beeps in response, a highlighted route shown on the central console’s screen. No turning back now.
He closes the door and comes back to my side. He kneels down to my level and starts to speak. “Vekna, I… there’s something I sh-“
I don’t let him finish, capturing his head in a strong hug. I hear a muffled grunt in alarm, but he soon returns it as the last of my tears dry in my fur. After a moment, I let him loose and grab him by the cheeks, mustering the sternest tone I can muster. “Y-You’d better stay safe, or I’m turning your plane right around!”
He gives a pained chuckle, a tear of his own sliding down his face. “Don’t worry, Vekna. I can handle myself.”
He then closes my door and stands back. After a second, the car reverses out of his driveway all by itself. I get one last look at him as it switches to forward motion. He’s waving. I choke back more mucus as I return the human gesture. It only lasts a moment before I feel the car accelerate, and Chase’s cabin disappears behind a wall of trees.
I look over to the central console as I’m driven to the airfield by my automated chaperone. The model Zero rattles in the console’s depression, now freed from its stand. As I round the bend, I make a promise in my mind, for me and only me to hold accountable. “I’ll come back for you, Chase.”
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Memory transcription subject: Elijah Morrisson, UN Pilot Ace
Date [standardized human time]: December 7th, 12:05, 2136
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Our SUV rumbles as we speed down the dirt road. Thankfully, Meiers wasn’t lying when she said our needs would be met. A helipad was earmarked for our arrival and there was a car waiting for us at a nearby rental center. Sure, it wasn’t exactly military grade, but the shuttle more than made up for that. It wasn’t the fastest thing I’ve flown, not by a long shot, but at least we didn’t need to refuel it for another 10-12 years or so. Thank you, Venlil engineers!
“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Xhen complained from the backseat. “Every second we’re on this glorified trail is a second more Vekna could use to escape!”
“Do you want me to drive this thing off the road? I’ve already disabled the self-driving function to get us over the speed limit!” Anderson spoke as he manually drove the vehicle. “Or would you like to drive? I’d be happy to let you drive for a while!”
“Oh ha ha, Anderson. Not everyone can be a cyclist like you!” Xhen spat back.
“Biker! I’m a biker! Jesus, a couple decades and suddenly everybody forgets! They have engines! Bicycles don’t! You know, back in the late 20th century, we were-”
I’ve had enough of this shit. I cut him off abruptly, waving for the both of them to quiet. “That’s enough outta y’all! Jesus, if I wanted to listen to your bickering, we’d never have left the shuttle! Focus on the mission at hand.”
Xhen raises his hand. Greenies, I swear to god. “Sir, I w-”
“I know you were, Xhen. Just…” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Look, we need to be at top game when we get to Beech’s cabin. He’s not dumb, chances are we’ve already been spotted when the transponder was reactivated in that last system sweep. When we get there, Anderson and I’ll try and talk to him. Xhen, you search the premises for anything off.”
Xhen salutes in affirmative, but Anderson takes issue with my plan. “Who put you in charge, Morrisson? Last I recall, I outrank you, and I don’t recall giving you permission to go above my head like that.”
I shoot an incredulous look at him. “Alright then, sir, got a better plan?” He starts to speak a few times, but it never goes anywhere. Eventually, he just sighs and shakes his head. “Thought not. Look, we’re all in this shit together because of Meiers and Vekna. Pulling rank ain’t gonna get us much farther than bickering like before. Until we’re out of this on the other side, let’s agree we’re all on even footing, deal?”
Xhen immediately agrees, but Anderson takes a little more time to think it over. Eventually, though, he comes around, giving a short chuckle. “Guess it couldn’t hurt. Deal.”
Glad to finally have the two hotheads under as much control as can be expected, I turn my attention to the road ahead. There’s a turn coming up off the right, and it’s exactly where we need to go. As we turn into the gravel driveway, we’re met with a modest cabin. It’s not the smallest I’ve seen, being two stories tall, but it’s certainly no millionaire’s getaway retreat. Fresh snow is starting to fall around us as we exit the car. Anderson hand signals Xhen to start his sweep of the premises. He nods and crouches out of sight of the first floor windows. Anderson and I make our way to the door, knocking on it a couple of times. We can hear someone moving inside, getting closer until the lock unlatches and I’m met with a familiar, if slightly thinner face.
I’m not the first to speak, as it would appear that he’s been expecting company. “Elijah, thought I saw you were in town. Of course, with that neutral transponder, I had to guess a little. Got some water on the stove for some tea or cocoa if you’d like to come in.” He glances over to Anderson, and the look in his eyes sours considerably. It’s been a while, but those wounds are probably still fresh.
Anderson doesn’t say anything besides me, so I take up the initiative. “Cut the crap, Chase. You know why we’re here. Let us in, or we’re going to let ourselves in.” I narrow my eyes at him so he makes no mistakes as to the severity of the situation,
All I’m met with with a similarly withering gaze from him. “You know all of this is, like, super illegal, right? I’m a Canadian citizen, and you’re American military. If word gets out about what you’re doing here, you’re all ruined.”
Ironic. I can’t help but let a chuckle escape my throat at the absurdity of our reality. “Technically, we’re not anything at the moment. I’ll put “international incident” on the list for good measure, though. Now step aside, ’Canadian citizen.’” I shove past him to little resistance, Anderson following closely behind.
Chase stumbles for a moment before regaining his balance. “Well, if you’re all so desperate for our hidden maple syrup mines, be my guest.”
I nod at Anderson to start a sweep of the house. We hadn’t even discussed it beforehand, but he knows why he’s here. He knows this house inside and out, more than anyone else. It was almost his, after all. As I enter the kitchen, I see a quaint, metal kettle atop one of the electric stovetops. Well I’ll be damned.
Chase enters the room shortly after me, leaning against a nearby counter. “If you wanted to interrogate me, you could’ve just sequestered me through the proper channels. Even so, I’ve got nothing to say to you. Haven’t for a while. Not since the collapse of the Arab Union.”
Old memories. Painful ones at that. I shake my head and turn to face him. “I know it’s been a while since then, but I don’t believe for a second that you’ve lost your edge. Bohemian is still in there somewhere.”
He doesn’t respond to me, so I decide that it’s best that I lay out what we know against him. Maybe he’ll finally see the futility of trying to hide it once I do. “We had a Venlil sighting in your museum a few days ago. There aren’t supposed to be any of the fluffy fucks this side of Manitoba, so any mention of one is cause for alarm.”
Chase shakes his head at that, a sly grin cropping up on his face. “You sure it wasn’t just a furry? You know what’s going down right about now, and I’ve seen some pretty realistic-”
“We know it wasn’t. It was spotted in your museum before opening, and only staff are allowed in at that time. Furthermore, you just so happened to pass within three miles of a confidential government facility on the night of Vekna’s escape. Care to explain that?”
His eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise. “Escape? I thought we were allies with the Venlil. That they were guests! Is someone setting up another secret prison? Ooh, did Area 51 get tired of hiding?”
There’s that Bohemian fucker I know. I’m about to lay into him, but I’m interrupted by Anderson holding up a mounted taxidermy of a deer head. “I found this out of place, Morrisson. It’s supposed to be hanging in the lounge room, but it was haphazardly shoved in a closet.”
Both of our attentions are brought to Anderson. Chase is first to speak to defend himself. “You and I both know it was gaudy in there. What, a man can’t redecorate?” Despite his light tone, he and Anderson are glaring daggers at one another. If looks could kill, heh.
“Not you, you lazy prick. I checked the lounge room for anything, and look what I found.” Anderson sets the taxidermy down heavily and holds up a tiny cluster of off-white hairs. That’s no human shade. That’s Vekna’s fur color!
Chase’s nostrils flare slightly, and I know that we have him cornered. I can vaguely hear the sounds of an aircraft flying over us though the cabin walls. I place a hand on his shoulder so he doesn’t try anything stupid. “So, what were you saying about Area 51?”
“That anal probing tells you nothing. Oh, wait, that’s your mouth speaking. Feels just as invasive.” He rolls his eyes. “You know, none of you have actually directly stated what you’re looking for.”
“That’s on a need to know basis, ‘civilian,’ and officially, you don’t need to know.” I place my off hand on my taser as I feel his muscles tense beneath his shirt. “But you already know why we’re here. So, why don’t you tell us where you stashed her and we’ll be on our way?”
His face contorts into a forced smirk. “Her? Oh my! Did you get an alien lady friend, Elijah? I didn’t realize you w-”
Before he can continue his jab at me, Xhen bursts through the front door, drawing our attention to him. “Sir! His car’s gone!”
His car is gone? Her fur is here, which means that she was sent off somewhere, but where? The museum is too populated, but that would only leave…the airfield. And I just heard…Fuck! Son Of A Bitch! It only takes me a second to process where he had sent her and where she’s ended up. I grab Chase by the shoulders and press an arm against his neck. “Where in the world did you send her, Bohemian?! Tell me!“
He takes a labored breath through his partially choked throat. “W-Wouldn’t…you…like to know…Snake Eyes? T-urk-try Timbuktu!” So now he comes clean about it, the motherfucker! As it’s clear that he isn’t going to be of much more help, I take out my taser to za-incapacitate him. This is for Komodo, you bastard.
Before I can jab it into his side, Xhen cries out in protest. “Sir! I don’t think that’s necessary!” I turn my attention to him briefly. “We have cuffs, we can-”
There’s suddenly an impact on the arm holding the taser. I turn my attention back to Chase only to have a hook connect to the right side of my face. I stagger back in pain as I hear Chase take a pained breath, his hands around the taser in my hand, wrestling to disarm me. Suddenly silenced, Xhen goes to restrain Chase, but gets kicked away by Chase’s prosthetic leg. I hear him cry out in pain as the taser is suddenly ripped from my grasp. I try to lunge for it again only for Chase to step out of the way. I hear the head of what was formerly my weapon crackle in electricity. I roll over to try and defend myself, for whatever good that’ll do. Before Chase can do anything, though, a dart is suddenly sticking out of his neck. He slowly feels at it and looks to whoever shot it. Our collective gaze falls to Anderson, with a now-empty tranquilizer gun in his hands. Chase starts to stumble towards him, muttering something incoherent, but he crumples to the ground before he can close half the distance. I sit up, feeling at my injuries. Shit, that’s a black eye.
“What was that?” Xhen panted. “Why didn’t anyone try to deescalate? We should have had that!”
I grunt in response as I force myself to a standing position. My balance is off from the hook, so I stumble over to a nearby countertop to grab on to. “Xhen, you don’t have any idea what that sonnuva’s capable of. If you’d let me taze him like I wanted to, we could’ve had a clean extraction! Fuck…”
My balance wavers again, but this time Anderson is at my side to help me to a seat. “For the record, I agree with Xhen on this one. Off the record, I had a feeling you two’d come to blows at some point.”
I sigh as Xhen hands me an ice pack from the freezer. I press it against my swollen right eye. “Yeah yeah, I’m sure you did. What, did he somehow manage to place Komodo’s death on me?”
Anderson shakes his head at me. “You know he isn’t that kinda guy, Elijah. From the looks of it…” He glances back to Chase’s body sprawled on the ground. “From the looks of him, I don’t think he’s sharing any blame for that.”
I lean back into the upholstered seat as cool water condensation runs down my arm. “That’s…fair.” I look between Anderson and Xhen with my one good eye. “We should…probably call in that we’ve apprehended the suspect. I think Meiers’ll have some questions for him.”
The two of them look between one another for a moment. After a second, they both nod at me. I nod back, forcing myself back to standing. I’m still wobbly, but it’ll have to do. Anderson is first to speak, wrapping my arm over his shoulder for support. “Yes sir, though that can wait until we get you looked at.”
The irony of him calling me sir is enough to elicit a delirious chuckle from me as I’m helped out of the building. Xhen holds Chase’s now double-cuffed body over his shoulder as we exit from our intrusion. I can’t tell what all Bohemian knows, I’m just glad it’s not going to be me extracting it from him.
That’s the suits’ job, after all.
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Thank you all for your advice and help!
Day 1:
Arrived in Orlando at 4:30 from Chicago. Picked up rental car waiting for us from Avis Preferred and drove to Pop to drop off our bags. Used mobile ordering to preorder dinner for 6:15 (actually picked up at 6:10) from Pop Everything, and then hit the Skyliner to HS for After Hours.
Arrived at HS at 6:45, and they immediately let us in for After Hours. Wait showed 45 minutes for MMRR, but it was a huge lie. Ended up taking about 75 minutes. This was our only big mistake of the night. We should have waited till After Hours when it ended up having a 5 minute wait.
Hit up Oga’s at about 8:15 (we had a 7:50 reservation). Kid ordered a Carbon Freeze and Blue Bantha. He loved the Carbon Freeze so I ordered one for my second drink (I hated it, but I always intended for him to drink most of it anyway). He didn’t like the Blue Bantha much. I had a Jedi Mind Trick for my first drink, and I like it a lot more.
We finished at Oga’s around 9 and hopped on MFSR. We got to be pilots, which I enjoyed. It had about a 30 minute wait, and by the time we got done, After Hours had started. From there, we hit up SDD, TSM, and grabbed popcorn, soda, and Mickey bars. SDD was a huge hit. Just a fun little coaster.
We headed back to Bantu, and we did a bit of wandering around Bantu and looked in all the shops. Then we rode Rise. There was a minor ride failure immediate before boarding the primary ride vehicle so we had to repeat the interrogation room. I still love Rise.
After that, we headed to ToT and finished out the night. Kid was terrified, but he loved it. Left around midnight and hit the hay at about 1.
Day 2:
I was up at 6:40, and at 7 tried for the virtual queue for Tron. Didn’t get it so booked ILLs for Tron and Guardians and a LL for Remy. Kid woke up around 7:40, and we managed to grab a bus to MK and arrived around 8:30. We headed to Tomorrow Land since we needed to be over that way at 11 anyway. Had to abandon the SM line for a bathroom break for the kid then got back in line, which slowed us down a little. But it moved relatively fast-faster than predicted. Kid loved it, but definitely was frightened of the darkness. Did BLSRS and Astro Orbiters before our Tron LL. Tron was awesome! Kid was not expecting the indoor section.
After Tron, we did some photos then took the monorail to the Contemporary for lunch. Had the onion rings and bacon and eggs to start. Kid had the burger, and I had the prime rib sandwich. Too much food, but then we still had the chocolate cake for dessert. Delicious!
Took the monorail to Epcot and entered just before 2. Had a 2:20 LL for Soarin’ (one of my favorites), then popped over to our 2:50 ILL for Guardians (which was actually down) so we got some coffee from Joffreys, and by the time we finished our coffee, the ride was back up. Got lucky to be in the second to last row (best seats on the ride, we got so lucky). Then headed over to our 3:50 LL for Remy. Remy was eh, and made me a little nauseous. Glad we did it so now I don’t feel like I need to do it again.
Kid was basically done at that point, but we tried to power through for a second wind back at MK. Kid needed to eat in AC so we just stopped at Pecos Bill cause it was closest.
Tried to do BTMR on a LL, but it was down so we used the LL on Pirates instead. This worked out cause the kid was basically done with roller coasters. Managed to modify a later LL for HM to an earlier time, and did HM last before heading back to Pop. Finished the night out with some pool time, which really helped with the sore feet.
All in all, a great couple of days.

First/wiki/Patreon
Coincidence or Fate
Astarte wasn’t sure if she believed in things like fate, destiny, or the master plan preachers were always going on about. But she had to admit that some of things in her life seemed too convenient to be happenstance. Take her meeting with Karega, a simple kidnapping and ransom turning into the event that changed the direction of her whole life. A simple choice to get drunk and chat with her prisoner turned into a lifelong friendship and a partnership that earned her beloved Astaroth.
Or take her childhood friend Beno, who was a few years older than Astarte and had gone off to be a space sailor. Only to get Shanghaied into Greyson’s crew aboard the Black Saint. He was the one to Invite the Devil girl of New Mombasa into a pirate crew, and even showed her the ropes before his untimely death. It was that connection that led Astarte to Greyson’s side where she could learn the ins and outs of space piracy, and even learn of Greyson’s secret deathworld hideout that would one day become Pandemonium.
Or her chance meeting with the Arbiter’s civilian persona; now a suddenly shy girl completely out of her element.
Astarte had used her cybernetic eye on the Astaroth to peer under the officer’s privacy field and had memorized her face only hours before this party. It was hard to deny the existence of destiny when so many things had lined up just right for Astarte.
The Arbiter’s civilian persona, Rachel, seemed to be an entirely different person. It wasn’t just that the cloak had obscured a lot of her diminutive features and general human shape. But it also seemed to act as a shield against her insecurities. The Arbiter had been a being of cold, tightly contained rage. Ready to brutally beat anyone she came across. Astarte had seen the deep scowl under her cowl, and couldn’t match that face to the uncomfortable girl walking next to her. Her body language was completely closed off, her steps were hesitant, and she couldn’t seem to look Astarte in the face.
Astarte knew very well that sometimes a good costume could entirely change a person’s personality, but this seemed a little too extreme. Maybe she had some sort of mental condition, or maybe she had just repressed her emotions for so long that they manifested as the Arbiter.
Rachel had guided Astarte around the Heart family’s garden grounds, though with how uncertain her steps were Astarte wondered if their arrival had been entirely accidental. Her eyes seemed to be darting about too much to actually be paying attention to her surroundings.
The Heart’s house had so far been everything Astarte imagined a family steeped in hereditary wealth to inhabit. A typical European style mansion, with crawling ivy-like plants, a generic hedge maze, and an uninspired display of unobtrusive fine art and porcelain. There for the impression they gave rather than artistic talent or passion. The home told Astarte that despite the seeming affluence of this family, they found themselves inferior to their peers and worked hard to maintain a crafted façade of idle wealth.
Astarte often noticed that the truly mega rich tended to possess a few eccentricities that differentiated them from the rest of high society. Marshal Penton had his vintage Voidhawk that he worked hard to maintain and improve. Kora had her political aspirations in the Revivalist party. Captain Bell of the Beelzebub had spent her time as an idle multibillionaire working to revive Victorian fashion and art. Even the Hellworlder fleet could be seen as Astarte’s strange fixation, because despite her poorer upbringing Astarte was now in the small echelon of mega rich Humans. It took a certain kind of person to completely slip off societal expectations to pursue their passions, and Astarte could tell that the air of superiority and power the Hearts put on was just a cover.
It would have explained the seeming desperation in Mrs. Heart’s eyes as she sized up Karega. Their position here in the core might not be as secure as it seemed, which could explain why they had let their daughter moonlight as Station Security.
Of course, she could be entirely misreading the whole thing. The Hearts could just be incredibly bland and unimaginative people. But her instincts about people were generally on point.
Astarte glanced back to her guide and sighed internally. It seemed that Rachel was too busy looking for a way out of her situation to properly engage her guest in small talk. “It must get exhausting” Astarte remarked blandly.
Rachel snapped out of her stupor and faced Astarte like a deer in the headlights. “What?” she asked suspiciously.
She thought Astarte was commenting on her secret identity, and Astarte could have revealed that she knew Rachel’s secret right then and there. But she had a better idea. Rachel might revert to her Arbiter persona if Astarte tipped her hand, which would be troublesome. But as the timid and out of her element Rachel, Astarte could subtly probe her for what the SS knew without her ever knowing. Plus she would thoroughly enjoy toying with the Officer who had tried to use the law to bully her way aboard the Astaroth. “The perpetual sunlight here in the core section, it must get exhausting.”
Rachel looked caught off guard and sighed in relief “A little, I live in Silver tower city now so the light doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“You don’t live with your parents?” Astarte asked, her tone mildly interested.
Rachels expression flashed as she briefly panicked, it seemed Astarte had found another hole in her cover story. Even if she hadn’t known the girls secret identity her every reaction telegraphed that she had something to hide. “Well, I’m living on my own right now. Can’t stay with your parents forever.” She laughed nervously.
So the Arbiter lived alone, that was potentially useful. Sometimes people brought work home, infiltrating the Heart residence here in the core would have been difficult, but the apartment of a lone human was much more manageable. Good to know, now for a distraction. “Understandable, I moved out of my mother’s house when I was fifteen.”
“So young? What did you do…” she trailed off as something within her head clicked.
“I got a job and found someone to apprentice under.” Astarte said simply.
Rachel frowned as she connected the dots “On a spaceship?” she asked hesitantly.
Now where did she get the idea of spaceships? Astarte hadn’t mentioned anything about being a ship captain, not to Rachel at least. Of course the Arbiter had seen her aboard the Astaroth only hours earlier. “Yep, my boss took me under his wing and taught me the tricks to being a good captain.” She paused for a minute and they walked in silence for a few meters “You know, now that I think of it I saw some pretty heavy curtains in the manor proper. I guess most homes in the core have blackout curtains so they can get some sleep. Wish I had thought of that. I once had some business on Kaydo where the days are thirty three hours long, I had to rearrange my whole sleep schedule to just to accommodate their rhythm.”
“What kind of business would you have on Kaydo?” their was a hint of suspicion in her voice. It was the sort of tell that said she already had a certain idea of what kind of business the Astaroth did. So the SS was potentially on to their identity as space pirates, that was good to know. Their rough greeting from the ADCU could have been for a variety of reasons, but this narrowed things down. This would change the plan going forward, she would have to wait and gather more info before she could deploy the four Horsemen.
“Corn” Astarte answered plainly.
Rachel blinked, not the answer she was expecting. “What?”
Astarte chuckled softly “I was there to sell corn.”
“Why corn?”
Astarte didn’t answer immediately, Mrs. Heart had obviously been trying to separate Astarte and Karega. Since Rachel had seemed surprised by Aster’s presence she could assume that she wasn’t expecting to see her here. Which meant Mrs. Heart wasn’t aware of her daughter’s suspicions about the Astaroth. That meant she was trying to separate Aster and Karega to try and get one of them to spill a secret or two. The Hellworlders were very secretive about how far their influence reached, but some things were bound to slip out. Still, Rachel was already suspicious about the nature of the Astaroth’s business, it might be a good idea to try and redirect that suspicion. Make her question whether they were really pirates or just strangely armed merchants.
“Most Union food shipments consist of standard rations of processed algae, like the stuff produced in vats around Unity. However I noticed that not many came to the Sol system, that’s because we have a carbon rich world like Venus to set up tower farms for wheat, corn, rice, and other Terran crops. And any excess supply is sold back to the Union as a substitute for some of the ingredients in standard rations.” Astarte began to explain as she and Rachel turned a corner in the gardens and began to walk next to some greenhouses. “I learned that staples like that were dirt cheap, not really worth being prayed upon by pirates, but also hard to turn a profit on unless your shipping them in bulk to the core. But here’s the thing about Femeri, we have the highest concentration of death worlds and deathworlders, and our bodies are evolved to survive off of foods way more nutritious than standard rations are made to accommodate. It’s possible to fill your belly with standard rations and still starve to death. World’s like Kaydo and Balter had enormous consumption rates for standard meals, and were spending a lot of money on storing vast amounts to feed their growing cities.”
“Don’t they have crops of their own? Why not just grow more of those?” She asked, totally invested in the narrative.
“They did, but the Balikstro have a deep respect for the forests of their home world. They live entirely in the highland and craggy coasts of their alpine world, and won’t clear a single acre of forest for farmland. But with improved medical technology their population is booming and there isn’t enough arable land to support themselves. And the Kaydic went through a devastating war before first contact, and the bioweapons they engineered to destroy the enemy’s crop left their species lacking in a large variety of cultivated crops. Besides, neither species cultivated the vast variety of crops humanity did, nor did they breed them as selectively for crop yield and nutrition. So I thought ‘why not buy the cheap staples being sold to the Union and sell it directly to Balter and Kaydo’. Cut out the Coreworld food processing centers and save the two planets millions on food storage.”
Rachel watched Astarte suspiciously “And that worked? If it was that simple why didn’t someone else do it?”
“Well I’m not sure why the big corporations buying the food didn’t realize this, maybe being in the Core blinded them to the opportunities in Femeri. As for other smaller shipping companies it was probably the threat of piracy. Big corporations have super freighters and Union escorts, so they don’t fear losing shipments. But its different for small companies, they have to deal with the threat of piracy on every run, so instead of making numerous small runs of cheap product with slim returns, they make fewer runs and move more expensive product. Less margin for loss.”
“And you, how did you find away around that?”
“I didn’t, my ships face pirates on the regular. The difference is that instead of skittish non-deathworlder crews, I crew my ships with hardy Terrans and give them more than enough weapons to fight off their pursuers. Most pirates are used to crews dumping their cargo to flee, they don’t know what to do with armed ships ready to fight back. My crews don’t get a standard hourly rate, instead they earn a percentage of every sale. So they’re invested in the success of the company. After a while the pirates learned to avoid our ships.”
“So that’s your secret, you sell corn to death worlds by sending ships who are willing to fight back?” she asked incredulously.
“That’s how it started, we went from corn, to beef, to luxury goods like chocolate and coffee. Then we applied our success to moving industrial goods, we would find one company to support, move their product around until their competitors went under, then bought them out and abandoned the first.” It was half of the truth. The other half was how she had used the Hellworlder fleet to harass the shipping of those companies to make them go under faster. She stashed their goods on Pandemonium, and once she bought them up she sold the stolen product under their banner. This made it look like she was boosting the productivity which earned her more investors.
Rachel looked thoughtful, completely enraptured in Astarte’s narrative. “that’s smart, but if you ever stop it’ll all come apart.”
“That’s how most things are anyways, a rolling stone gathers no moss. Stagnation equals death.”
“What a deathworlder thing to say.” Rachel muttered under her breath.
Astarte frowned at that outburst. Part of her wondered if it had been a calculated statement, a quiet jab at Astarte’s background as a deathworld street rat. But something about the spontaneity told her that there was little forethought put into those words. She mentally filed it away for later.
They finally passed by the greenhouses and arrived around an ornately decorated fishpond. The species within were unfamiliar to Astarte’s eyes as they were all non-Terran. Upon closer inspection she noticed that all of the flowers, vines, and hedges were unfamiliar. Even the grass beneath her feet wasn’t the kind she was used to seeing on Earth or Mars. It was more yellow than green and grew more like the intertangled mass of moss than the short stalks of Terran grass.
As Rachel led Astarte to a sitting area she took a moment to forget about any convert manipulations or information probing and just enjoyed the view. City above her, city below her, city filling the horizon of the vision, with a million smaller shuttles and barges flying in between.
“Does this view ever get old?” she asked in wonder.
Rachel squinted in confusion at Astarte and looked up to try and see what Aster was seeing. “Sooner than you’d think.” She murmured.
Aster turned to look at Rachel. For the first time since Astarte met, either as the Arbiter or Rachel, she saw the woman under the mask. No rage and anger, nor apprehension and discomfort. Just the face of a woman who couldn’t marvel at the wonders of the world around. Tired, sad, and beaten down by life.
For a minute Astarte felt a little ashamed of how she had been manipulating Rachel.
They were broken out of their quiet contemplation by the soft fall of footsteps. Astarte turned to see a tall man approaching them. He wore his fine dark blue kimono as if he had been born in it. He had his dark black hair pulled up into a top bun in the fashion of Japanese samurai, and Astarte felt somewhat unnerved by the sharpness of his gaze.
“Rachel, your mother said I would find you here” the man said in common as he approached.
Rachel blinked in surprise “Ju… Gin-sama.”
Astarte felt her heart stop at that name. she began to study the man once more, she studied the somewhat familiar features of his face and compared them against her own. The shape of his eyes were exactly like her own, his hair was of a similar shade to Astarte’s, and his skin was just slightly darker than Astarte’s.
Astarte wasn’t sure if there was such thing as destiny or fate. She wasn’t totally convinced that there was some divine force shaping events. But if there was she was certain that it had a twisted and fucked up sense of humor. As not only did she meet the Arbiter’s civilian persona today, but also the man who was potentially her father.
Previous/Next

To paint a picture of the situation.
My lvl 6 party just entered a city founded upon the ruins of an older, dwarfen built city with a functional sewer system. The current citizens dont know and dont care about this. They use the sewers but dont maintain them. The party came to the city with the intention to gain access to a certain book but to get access they are asked to perform a helpfully task to the town. Which exactly they will be informed "soon", until then they are offered a room in a tavern near the academy where they will be clearly observed or in an area where the middle class meets the empoverished, invited by a good friend that is wanted by the local authorities.
At first the city appears better than the rest of the local area but this is false, highly militarised ,the city values its usefull members but completely abandons people that fall out of line. Crippled veterans beg in the streets as snow slowly falls upon them. The narrow alleys are filled with orphans , too weak for the academys. In this town you either serve the greater good or you stay out of sight. If you actively go against the flow you will be thrown into the mines underneath the town or worse. But the party dosnt know this. They are welcomed by an escort and delivered to the humble mayor of the town.
After choosing a place to stay they will have some time to explore the town on their own. They will quickly notice the reality of the military state. From here there are multiple things going on. People are going missing and the normal people are scared. Some blame wererats, some whisper the mayor hired a crazy alchemist to bolster his army, some blame demons, some whisper that nobles kill people of the poorer cityparts for sport, many say cannibals, others talk about nightmarish flesh horrors that roam the streets at night. Besides the wererats, all of these are true.
There are no wererats. There never have been any. Its just a local fairytale. A urban legend.
The storry of the alchemist is true but the mayor uses deathrow prisoners as subjects, not civilians. The alchemist uses prisoner parts to craft flesh golems that are used as frontline elite. He is being forced to create these aberrations against his will so he created a small homunculus to seek help. Merely a football sized lump of misshapen flesh with spindly arms and legs that scuttles through town sustaining itself of rats and trash looking for capable adventurers to get his master out of the prison mine below the sewers.
Demons are also not realy a problem. (The party did encounter demons so they probably will believe tge rumors) The cults on the other hand are. The narrow alleys and subterranean sewers offer plenty room for cults to form. There are multiple cults loose that try to summon something by performing rituals they themselves don't understand with no real effect. They however do think that soon salvation will come for them.
Of course there Is no noble hunting club. But One noble daughter in question is indeed a murderer. a smart one. From her perspective she falls in love with downtrodden and empoverished citizens that then will save her from her boring life as a noble without need like in all those novels she got to read. A dozen men and women did she fall for, all of them she tranquilized using poisons, abducted them and them kept them in a hidden room in her mansion where she keeps them tied to a chair, dressed like dolls. Untill she grows bored of them within days. Or jealous. She discards the corpses into the sewers via a hidden hatch.
There are no cannibals among the citizens but something far worse. A warforged, afflicted by repeated use of the modify memory spell by someone it itself dosnt remember, it lost all its memories of its former life. Believing to be a human it is disturbed by its state of being, a skin and fleshless body, a appetite that does not exist but clearly should. With the abilitys of a gloomstalker rangeinquisitive rogue it stalks its prey and kills them quick and quiet. Flensing the victims and draping the still wet skin over its iron body. Attempting to devour chunks of meat with a mouth not designed to take in food or drink.
The monstrosity of flesh can refere to the alchemists homunculus , sewer patrolling flesh golems sent by the mayor to kill whatever lives down there or another thing. The local abbot is not what he seems. A deva sent to help the people of the domain of dread Wholeheartedly believes he is doing the gods work by creating the perfect human to lead the masses. Nobody knows about the abbot's real identity. To create his perfect human the abbot started to sculpt the flesh of humans that now do his bidding. Using a beefed up statblock of mongrelmen. his subordinates pick up more civilians to serve as raw material for his body horror abominations. The creatures live in a walled off part of tge sewers underneath the church. A entry underneath the churches altar uncovers a cisterne connected to the sewers filled with writhing flesh and corpses.
The encounters are ment to confuse the players. The only difference between the fleshgolems of the alchemist and the abominations of the abbot are that the golems are stitched together and the abominations appear to be grown. The alchemist is in reality a potential ally to the party but Could become targeted as a culprit of the murders. The warforged and the noble both stalk their prey but have completely different approaches. Once one encounter is being cleared, all other encounters will direct their attention towards the party. They will most likely just explore the extensive sewers and stumble over a abomination, a flesh golem sent to patroll the sewers, a flensed corpse or a bloated corpse in noble clothes with initials in a heart carved into its flesh.
I am looking for further encounters to be found In the sewers seeing how it is an extensive area and fighting the same 3 enemies would be tedious. Of course all of the above mentioned characters can be reached through the sewers but all rather well hidden. How do I fill this ecosystem?

Hey, so I’ve been dipping for about a year now and have done about 9 projects, 3 of which I’ve done using dip pearl topcoat. Still getting my technique down, but I was wondering, do you guys think it’s worth putting the effort in to continue at least another couple of cars with topcoat and get my technique closer to perfect, or should I make the jump to proline out of my turbine setup and abandon the topcoat? Would the technique transfer over at all to proline?

Hi Reddit. I’m just looking for advice on relationships in general. I write and summarise the story. There maybe gaps so please ask away. I was crazy during medication period. naive. And stupid at the time. I’m doing really well for myself currently. Making great progress in life.
So I will summarise things in a short way as possible. A couple of years ago I used to date my best friend it was great and I loved her. I got depressed during Covid. But never said. She did realised at one point. Which in a month. I mean a month she left me and lined up another guy who was her mate. I want to add I only found this out last week. I only found they cheated behind my back last week. I spoke to this guy before and the fact they did it behind my back makes me sick especially what I’ve gone through. The trauma I went through after this break up destroyed me and I seriously find it hard to trust people.
Before I met her I was 17 and she was 23. I young autistic and I don’t have a lot of close friends. After the breakup I got told I would regret losing. I still love you. I want to be there for you. All the rubbish you get told Etc etc. I did asked her about the Her mate. Which her exact words he’s too tall and he’s not my type.
now looking back I was so naive and stupid. Because the night they supposed went to a pub together. She messaged saying she loved me to dump me a week later with 5 days where she ghosted me. To make me look more dumb she invited the best friend to come round that night. while slowly cutting me off. I was in such bad place. We spoke for about a month but clearly the trust was broken. Again being naive I wanted to fix things. I remember her saying it was my fault. I felt so guilty I decided to gas myself 2 times by renting out a garage using carbon monoxide poisoning. Of course I failed writing this.
I wrote chapters in a book to explain things like a nut job because I felt so guilty. I felt awful. Writing emails saying I will fix things sending her a book. I felt so awful as a person. I hated life. I because I was depressed believing it was my fault. I took meds to help but I only developed side effects like pyhoscis and hallucinations where I thought I ran over a kid in a car. These horrible memories do stick with me. To think I ran over a kid is a horrible feeling.
Fast forward to 2022 I pretty much said the same thing setting up accounts I’m not proud of this. In fact I’m completely ashamed of this and is so out of character. Again I felt guilty awful as a person and I only wanted to solve things. I wouldn’t say I stalked become I never knew what was going on in her life. But I would say I harassed saying the same thing because I never knew if she got my messages. My anxiety and fears played a massive role as I was always ghosted. Being autistic I never quite possessed anything correctly at times. I didn’t understand why I got ghosted. Why I got cut off at that time. I was just abandoned. Not by a girlfriend but also my best friend before. I felt guilty and I always wanted answer and felt it was my responsibility to fix things.
I decided to make a account for racing. Because I wanted to focus on a passion of mine that helped me a lot. I’m getting better at that sport and decided to build a portfolio. Out of curiosity I decided to look up my ex. The curiosity just got the better of me at that moment. I don’t know what she’s being the last 2 years and it’s stupid. I don’t regret as I know now. But I know it’s a rookie mistake. I saw them together posting pictures. How she stole my tickets to chemical romance. With the caption Young me is so proud. I can’t believe I’m here.
I never felt so angry and so devasted and upset in my life. I was trying to process everything. How I was in complete denial, brainwashed for the last 2 years. Everyone telling me she did the dirty. Me being 20 in love with someone 26. How I felt so guilty that I couldn’t live myself. I didn’t believe anyone. I’ve been in mental health hospitals because of my guilt seeing things. And it was a ruse. A lie from manipulation excuse to pile me off for some other guy. How can you pile someone off for only being depressed a month and running away. How can someone be that cruel to someone you once loved. I even asked her on the last day I saw her did you cheat on me. She says no I still love you.
I hate this person. I wish she dies. I really do because how crazy I became from all the manipulation everything planted it physically destroyed my brain. I went crazy. I know I did and if I could undo everything I would. I’m not a freak. Or A physco. I’m just a decoy for some girl to have a toyboy fun.
I confronted her out of pure frustration because I wanted to know why she never said in the first place. She responded with get over it. And to get a diary.
I’m more scared how you can see the obvious but also be blind that you need a walking stick. It’s freaky scary. I’m not asking how to get her back. I’m not asking how to get payback.
I more asking how do I get past this memories. Therapy? Counselling? Support groups. I don’t care her. I frankly don’t give a toss. I’m more shocked about how people can be so manipulated for there gains and pile you off instantly. I don’t want this to impact my social life skills interacting with others. I’m doing really well playing football, looking to do boxing. Having a stable job. Moved into a flat. Doing racing with a community. With a possible teams to join. I’ve also found this girl who’s funny and super attractive. I think she’s terrific. Chatting to her making me laugh. But only finding out what I found. I don’t want to commit someone if I’m always going to be worried what they are doing behind my back. I’m super nervous posting this as I feel I’m going to be judge harshly. But I know I made mistakes. But I was in a very bad place. I really was not myself at all
I want to clarify I removed all messages history. I don’t care about this women. If she died I would feel sad. But in terms of what she did to me and grief manipulation I honestly couldn’t forgive someone to do that for there gain ever.
Edit:

This is my own interpretation of the Five Nights at Freddy’s timeline. I apologize in advance if there are grammatical errors, spelling errors, or, just in general, errors. There will be speculations that fill this timeline that I deem are realistic/reasonable/worthy enough to fit the timeline based on facts/evidence/logic and reasoning.
This is a quick, runner-up-type of timeline that fits best in my personal head-canons. Feedback is encouraged, and always appreciated.
​

FNAF 4

Fredbear’s Family Diner 197? - 1983: Opened for a few years by Henry Emily and William Afton. Meanwhile, Henry and William create additional animatronics (the original four) (via ‘Fredbear and Friends’ TV show). Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria is being momentarily built or stood while Fredbear’s is still the primary restaurant. In 1983, Fredbear's is closed when The Bite of ‘83 happens. It's my speculation that William began constructing the Funtime animatronics during this time, with no intention of making them murder machines.
Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria 1983: While the springlock suits are still in use by employees, the new stars of the show are the original four. This is where William kills Charlie Emily. Soon, the springlock suits are decommissioned due to an incident at one of the sister locations which was present during Fredbear’s Diner (e.g. 'sister location'). This is quoted by Phone Guy in one of the phone calls in FNAF 3, quote: “After learning of an unfortunate incident at the sister location involving multiple and simultaneous springlock failures, the company has deemed the suits temporarily unfit for employees.” It is my theory that Henry kicked William out of the restaurant or company because of the springlock incidents or Charlie’s death.
Circus Baby’s Pizza World 1984: William begins to experiment with remnant after seeing the Puppet being possessed by Charlie. He has now finally constructed the Funtime animatronics with the LLC, Afton Robotics. Under this LLC, he also creates Circus Baby’s Pizza World, which is also owned by Fazbear Entertainment due to the resemblance of the original four (e.g. Funtime Foxy & Funtime Freddy). This is when Elizabeth Afton dies. Soon, Circus Baby’s Pizza World, after closing due to a “gas leak”, becomes a rental entertainment center.
Two years after Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria opens, the Missing Children Incident occurs when William uses one of the springlock suits (Springbonnie) that were presumed decommissioned. Phone Guy mentions this in the FNAF 3 phone calls, quote: “Management has also been made aware that the Springbonnie animatronic has been noticeably moved. We would like to remind employees, that this costume is not safe to wear under any circumstances.”
After these incidents, and after being free from custody/authorities, William retreats to experiment with remnant, and comes back in 1987. This is when Michael Afton graduates high school, and starts to help William with the study of remnant. Meanwhile, Henry is still grappling with grief while uncovering the blueprints of William’s creations. This is when Henry attempts suicide, realizing he helped create the murderous Funtime animatronics for William to kill children. We see this in FNAF World, where Desk Man regrets making a machine that is Circus Baby.

FNAF 2

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza: New and Improved 1987: The original four are decommissioned after the Missing Children Incident, which is mentioned by Phone Guy in the phone calls in FNAF 2: “Uh, now, I want you to forget anything you may have heard about the old location, you know. Uh, some people still have a somewhat negative impression of the company. Uh… that old restaurant was kind of left to rot for quite a while (Fredbear’s).” Due to low budget expenses, the original four and their parts are used for the Toy animatronics. This is quoted by Phone Guy in the phone calls in FNAF 2, quote: “They’ve spent a small fortune on these new animatronics, uh, facial recognition, advanced mobility, they even let them walk around during the day.” Henry had planted a criminal database system in these Toy robots as a suspicion (quite possibly to his former business partner).
William, disguised under his alias, Dave Miller, murders another five children at this location while wearing either the Fredbear or Springbonnie suit. This is where Michael tampers with the animatronics facial recognition system, attempting to help his father collect remnant while not getting caught. We are told from Phone Guy that the day shift just became available due to The Bite of 87’. In my AU of the timeline, the person who is bit is Julie Fitzgerald, Michael’s ex-girlfriend.
During this gap between 1987 - 1993, the Toy animatronics were scrapped due to The Bite of 87’. Fazbear Entertainment attempts to cover everything up under a lousy rug. I speculate this is the time Henry considers suicide another time, but instead does what he does best: builds animatronics. Specifically, he builds Lefty in prospect of his plan to capture Charlie.
Phone Guy is still alive during this time because, in the FNAF 3 phone calls, he mentions how they are sealing up the back rooms at most locations of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza due to recent incidents of the springlock suits worn by employees.

FNAF

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza 1993: The bodies of the Missing Children, that haven’t been “found”, are still rotting inside of the original four. They decide to redesign the original four, and open Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. The animatronics still give off a terrible odor just like they did at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Michael works the night shift to continue his father’s dirty work, tampering with the animatronics to collect the remnant inside of them. In my theory, “odor” doesn’t have a lore relevance, and is just a casual reference to Michael’s sweat (possibly due to trying to survive the nights). (According to Mr. Hippo, not everything about a story needs to be pulled apart in order to make sense to the lore.)
William arrives at this location to collect the remnant of the animatronics. Michael, meanwhile, ordered by his father, is going to the Sister Location (Circus Baby Entertainment & Rental).
The newspaper clippings in FNAF are quite possibly a reference to the Missing Children Incidents at both Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza: New and Improved and Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria: “After a long struggle to stay in business after the tragedy that took place there (Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria) many years ago, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza has announced that it will close by year’s end.” And: “Two local children were reportedly lured into a back room during the late hours of operation at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza on the night of June 28th.” It is my speculation that both of these could be referencing the incidents only during FNAF 2, and not Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. This would make more sense because it mentions “Pizza” instead of “Pizzeria” as well as the "June 28th" date, which would align with the summer Michael works during FNAF 2.
We know the souls are remaining within the original four because we also see the Puppet (via the FNAF 2 cut-scenes). This is when the Puppet orders the souls of the children to kill the night guard because Michael looks eerily similar to his father. The souls cannot determine if it is William because death affects memory of the remaining souls.
It is my speculation that William collected the remnant of these animatronics when they were relocated after FNAF 2. It is said that souls are able to respond/react to the physical world tangibly, that’s why they were attacking William to his death in Springbonnie. This is my speculation due to the buttons that appear on Freddy in the “Follow Me” mini-games in FNAF 3, which no longer appear when they redesign the animatronics. (Or it could just be a design error on Scott's part). The remnant of these souls are still attached to the animatronics, so even after William destroyed the robots, the souls remained trapped until the new location opened as Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. In context of the Molten-MCI theory, William transfers the original four’s remnant to the Funtime animatronics. (When coming back for more, this is when William is attacked by the spirits). This is further stated by Henry in the Insanity Ending in FNAF 6: “He lured them all back, back to a familiar place (the backroom), back with familiar tricks. He brought them all together” … “He set some kind of trap. I don’t know what it was, but he led them there, again. He overpowered them, again. And he robbed them of the only thing they had (remnant), again.”

Sister Location

Circus Baby’s Entertainment & Rental 1993/4: The slash is an indication of the uncertain time stamp when Michael specifically arrived at the Sister Location, that is Circus Baby’s Rental. All I speculate is that Circus Baby’s Rental is after FNAF 1. Again, Michael is sent by William to “free” his sister. Michael is not aware that this is a “death” trap, but is aware of these murderous animatronics his father created. Throughout his job as a technician (note: Fazbear Entertainment does not regard the legality of job applicants, being that as a technician, it is highly unlikely to get a job without a proper license and/or experience. In Michael’s case, the only experience he has isn’t even experience, but rather relevance), Michael undergoes dangerous situations similar to his previous job as a night-guard at the Freddy’s locations. After Michael’s body is used as a skin-suit in order to save his sister, he concludes Elizabeth is free, and finally betrays his father’s work. Michael, at this point, is a decomposing corpse staying alive with remnant provided from the Scooper.
Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was left to rot after complaints about the odor, mucus, and blood oozing from the animatronics. Families no longer went there, abandoning it until it reopened 30 years later as an act to cover up Fazbear’s wrongdoings and mishaps.

FNAF 3

Fazbear’s Fright: The Horror Attraction 2023: After most of the back rooms were sealed up, Fazbear Entertainment was desperate to find a main star for their newly opened attraction based on the unsolved mysteries of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Therefore, when seeking through the old locations, they find Springbonnie (or William). Relocating the old Springbonnie animatronic to the attraction, William now haunts the building as Springtrap. The Puppet is still remaining as we see him/her standing in the hallway of the building not as a hallucination unlike the phantom animatronics.
I speculate that the bad ending of FNAF 3 is the canon ending to better support the Molten-MCI theory. Additionally, the arcade mini-games do not coincide with the true gameplay of FNAF 3. Rather, they are secrets provided by the shadow animatronics.
I cannot determine who works at Fazbear’s Frights since Michael has just been released from the possession of Ennard, or who committed the arson. (Some believe it to be Henry which is reasonable since he would then have knowledge that William possesses Springbonnie as Springtrap). I speculate that Michael phoned the building. This is because, if Michael was there or nearby, knowing his father is in the crumbled building, he would have no reason to say, “I’m going to come find you.” (Though, in one of the Fazbear Frights books in “What We Found” there is no telephone communication system installed in the building. But, this is debatable, since only certain aspects/details of the books are canon or answer blanks in the games. I don’t believe this is an important fact/detail that is relevant.) Regardless, Michael sounds bitter to his father. I speculate this particular voice line has a threatening/sorrowful deportment, and not hopeful. It is only logical to say: Michael's voice lines do not determine when he left the sister location.

FNAF 6 (Pizzeria Simulator)

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place 2023/24: I’m not confident in what year FNAF 6 actually takes place, but I am confident that it doesn’t make much of a difference to the lore. This is when Henry takes his plan into action, making Michael the franchisee of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. Michael assumes this is a plan, as every job he’s taken at any Freddy’s hasn’t been a coincidence and of complete nonsense. It is my speculation Michael does not know who his employer is, as we hear this from Scrap Baby. Henry orders Michael, via cassette tapes, to salvage every animatronic from the back alleys even if there is the option not to. In the game, if you choose not to salvage any of the animatronics, you get the Bad Ending/No-Risk Ending. This is a further indication that, in order to free the souls, and destroy Fazbear everything, you need to bring them all together in one place.
For the Midnight Motorist (one of the biggest mysteries in the entire series) mini-game, I speculate Orange Guy is William. I believe he is depicted as orange (with the exception that Scott enjoys confusing the timeline) because he is not in the shadows, or he is not wearing the orderly uniforms for the restaurants (as he disguised himself as a security guard when he killed children).
Of course, it only makes sense that the file name, “Later That Night”, is a reference to the aftermath of William murdering Charlie. (Since that is the only closely related arcade game. Additionally, there is rain in both of the mini-games).
In a drunken rage, William speeds home to find one of his children gone from his sight. “He ran off to that place again” perhaps is a reference to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. I am not confident at which child this could be. I can speculate it to be Michael because the actions of this mystery character aligns up with Michael’s charactepersonality type. It could also be the CC, but if he is traumatized by something he saw (that is most likely revolved around Freddy’s) why would he go there?
The Man Sitting is, in my opinion, Michael because of the gray color of the text, which is similar to the gray text we see FoxyBro displaying in FNAF 4, and the red head which can be a correlation to the Foxy mask he is seen wearing in FNAF 4.
I am not confident about this mystery that is this minigame. So, I decide not to dwell on it, because, from Mr. Hippo’s wise words, not everything about FNAF needs to be analyzed so intricately that it causes stress, and makes the story more frustrating to solve. Obviously, Scott does not put in easter-eggs for no reason, so, there is lore relevance to almost every single one he puts in the games. But, this specific minigame does not complete the story as a whole. The entire lore was unbothered without it when it wasn’t available for us to see. But, it can give us certain facts/details about the follow-up to Charlie’s death, the Afton family dynamic, William's misdeeds, and character’s motivations/personalities. I am certain that JR’s and Green Man are not specifically important to the lore as a whole.
Scott has brainwashed us into thinking that new titles, locations, and dates are critical to the lore. But, sometimes they are simply just that and nothing else. But, that doesn’t imply that this particular location and character are unimportant. Obviously, it plays a role into William’s motivations as a character, and gives a background into the night Charlie died. I speculate that JR’s is simply a bar that William went back to after he murdered Charlie. The Green Man is a bouncer, warning William that he is not allowed back in because he is too drunk (we can possibly examine William’s condition by how fast he’s driving his car on the road). It is usually the bouncer's job to keep customers from driving drunk and killing themselves. For William to murder his first victim, I see him becoming drunk as reasonable, as it was most likely easier for him to do in the rage of his emotions.
Henry calls the Missing Children, and the rest of the Afton family to end the wickedness of William’s wrongdoings. Of course, William knew this was a trap set up, but found it interesting enough to go and see. I speculate William was overconfident he’d overthrow Henry once again. Elizabeth, of course, followed her father while still being lured by Henry. And Michael was there, eventually aware of where he was placed when his sister started talking to him about being a “gift”. According to Elizabeth, she assumed her father called them all together in one place instead of Henry.

Ultimate Custom Night + My Speculations

Afton’s Purgatory 2023/24: The dates are aligned with FNAF 6 because this is directly after the fire of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. In my AU and head-canon, William remains in this personal purgatory until the Vengeful Spirit is finally put to rest by Old Man Consequences. After that, Afton remains in a specialized spot in Hell for all eternity while the spirit is lifted into Heaven. In some speculations, people believe there are two spirits in this part of the timeline. One, the Vengeful Spirit, and the other, The One You Should Not Have Killed.
It is also to be believed that these two are only one entity.
In the cutscenes provided in UCN after every 700 points, it most definitely has lore relevance. In particular, the Bear of Vengeance is most likely correlated to the Vengeful Spirit as they both have corresponding adjectives/nouns. When Scott was hiring voices for the game, there is a description for the Vengeful Spirit as a character. Though we never see the character, we can definitely hear them. Based on the description for Skanes to go off of, it says: “... speaks in a whisper from the shadows. This child is in control, and is toying with the player, who is helpless…”. This gives us clearer context when we hear the whispers coming from the Mediocre Melodies voice lines, line after line: E.g., Orville Elephant: "He (Henry) tried to release you. He tried to release us. But, I'm not going to let that happen. I will hold you here. I will keep you here. No matter how many times they burn us." The job description also details that, quote: “The gender should not be immediately clear, it should work as either a young boy or a young girl…” This also gives us clearer context when we hear the voice lines from both Withered Chica and The Mangle. Mangle’s voice lines are: “He’s here, and always watching, the one you shouldn’t have killed.” Chica says: “I have seen him; the one you shouldn’t have killed.” Speculating that the Vengeful Spirit and The One You Shouldn’t Have Killed are separate entities, we can differ them quite simply.
I can speculate that both entities have the same motivations; why else would they be together if the two had different goals for their definition of “rest”? If they are together in one place, that can possibly link us to Golden Freddy. We can speculate Golden Freddy is the vessel for both of these spirits, as we can see him twitching in the distance when we complete the game. This is an obvious sign that Golden Freddy is not resting, and will continue to torment William. This also provides us with clearer context on the Golden Duo theory.
In the intermission of the Bear of Vengeance, I speculate that it is a representation of the rivalry between the Vengeful Spirit and William Afton. In the games, William escapes the grasp of the spirit’s unending torment when his consciousness is reborn digitally. In these mini episodes, we can see that the Bear undergoes the punishments from the Fox after he attempts to attack him but fails every time. The Fox is repeatedly expressing how fun it is to punish the Bear while the Bear shows no lack of determination. The Bear will not rest until the Fox is defeated in his temple.
In the first episode, the Bear attacks on his birthday, which may have lore relevance, to which the Fox reacts: “HA! Today is that foolish bear's birthday” … “He will attack; how predictable. I have been anticipating this night; the trap is set. He should have learned his lesson. And let's not forget what happened to him last time!” The Fox, to me, is inherently referencing the night William lured and murdered the children because the Fox also adds: “This night marks the end of the Bear and his clan. He will remember this night; the night he was shown no mercy!” Perhaps the past tense of “was” is a direct reference to the murderous night in 1985. The way the Bear describes the Fox— “But the Fox is cunning, and devious, and has continued to somehow escape my grasp. I have tried to lay siege to his temple, time and time again, but to no avail.”— is illustrating William’s character as a man who despises death, and wants out of purgatory. The rivalry between the Bear, and the Fox can demonstrate how William fights with the spirit’s control over his mind.
Also, I should note that I speculate “The Man in Room 1280” is a depiction of William’s purgatory in the outside world, as we can see there is an angry spirit keeping the man alive, causing him endless nightmares.
Also, I think the Fox’s personality in these intermissions are of high resemblance to William's character in the novels.
In the other cutscenes, Toy Chica: The High School Years, it is an obvious depiction and resemblance to William Afton’s killing spree. As the episodes continue, Toy Chica becomes more aggressive with her plans on how she’s going to achieve the boys she likes. The last one, Pig Patch, although looks don’t matter, she is the most aggressive with this one, most likely implying she really wants to “catch” him. In the bag she carries, we can see there is a Foxy hook, most likely implying she has done this before. I speculate there was a secret seventh victim, just like there was in “Into the Pit” at the 1985 birthday party. This can perhaps give us a clue if there were more than six victims on William’s part, better giving context on two spirits invading William’s mind.
In my opinion, I believe there is one spirit tormenting William. The gender of this spirit does not matter. All that matters is that they want vengeance. In my mind, the other spirit in Golden Freddy never chose to torment William as their agony was not strong enough to control William’s mind.
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• I won't be doing FNAF: Help Wanted or Security Breach, or any of the spin-off games. Yes, it would add more to the lore, but this is the premise of it all:

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William and Henry form a team, creating a pizzeria loved by children; William eventually kills five children; they haunt the animatronics of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza; William's motivations are unclear but that's what makes it interesting yet frustrating; the souls are set free as well as the rest of the Afton family, and the daughter of Henry, who all die in an epic arson finale.
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I imagine FNAF 6 as the ultimate ending, and UCN is just a follow up of Afton's death. After that, it's just more frustrating lore that "needs" to be solved or pieced together in some way.

TW : abuse, child abuse, SA, mentions of suicide, depression, drug use I (23M) am a long time supporter and watcher of the show. And I’ve listened to your input and opinions and advice for a minute now. I wanted to see if I could get some advice or just see someone in my corner. Starting from the beginning of my siblings and my lives. We have been abused by my parents for 20 years. Changing locks to the outside of doors to lock you in your bedroom at night, forcing ice cold showers as a punishment for wetting the bed, having my siblings line up and kick me in the downstairs area until my mother saw fit, boot camp exercises until falling asleep, withholding food, throwing objects, choking, beating, etc. Not to mention having been SA for 14 years of my life by a grandparent, telling them and having it be brushed off to the side. My siblings and I dealt with this for a long time but with the conditioning we had were still willing to love our parents unconditionally. There through it all especially with my mother. About a year and a half ago.. my mother and father separated and then eventually divorced. During that whole time they were separated, my mother went off the rails for a lack of better words. She met and started dating many people and having intercourse with them as well. Without really knowing them. Bringing strangers into the house with my young brothers. She met a man, B if you will, B has a dark past. B was an active meth addict for 28 years before being sent to prison for 14. After he got out he met my mother and they hit it off. But soon following her home went into horrible disrepair, stopped paying her bills, and then let this man put one of her sons in a choke hold. My mother is a manipulative force. She uses pain and trauma to her advantage. After this string of events with many names called, screaming, etc. my 3 younger siblings are now staying with me and my partner (24M) for about a year now. My relationship with my partner is suffering, my home is suffering. I am not there as a person, partner. I don’t really know how to be a good dad. And there is very very limited contact between us and my parents. My youngest sibling visits my mother every weekend. She continues to act irrational. Ever step of the way we have a new problem, trying for public aid.. it’s a chore, my father was providing health insurance for us, lost his job and now we have no insurance. My brother and I both have preexisting conditions. I have a brain injury and my brother has complications from Covid. With 3 teenage boys they eat so much food that we as 2 men in our 20’s are having to empty our pockets, car broken down, bills stacking up, emotions stacking up as well. I just don’t know where to turn and what to do. We kinda have to care for them for the next 5 years. I’m not sure what I’ll get out of this .. but I need something. I don’t know if I should pursue custody, call DCF , or what. Most of all I want to understand why a mother would abandon her kids, why a father would, why pretend to care about your kids?? Why I want to find out why because there has to be a reason I want to find a way to cope with my feelings towards all of this and the people involved without going mad. I’m so sad and so hurt, I think about ways to end it daily. I just am kinda lost. I’m going crazy with racing thoughts, I wake up and go to sleep thinking. Why

Quite frankly I'm amazed that people weren't abandoning their cars along the interstate to collect and carry away what they could

The checkout line of the local grocery store in the home town I left behind. I tried to keep my eyes forward and avoid eye contact as I paid for my frozen dinner and hoped to get out of dodge before I had to talk to someone I knew, but hadn’t talked to in 15 years.
“Jame,” I heard a woman’s voice chime from behind me.
I couldn’t help but utter the word “fuck,” drawing a grin from the high school-aged checkout girl.
I put the smallest smile humanly possible on my face and looked over my shoulder to see a woman with a poof of gray hair standing at my hip with an armful of groceries sloppily spread across the chest of the dirty Garfield Christmas sweatshirt she wore in September. I don’t think I had actually seen the woman since I was nine years old, but I instantly recognized her as Barbara, the woman who ran the daycare I went to when I was very young, .
I stuck my credit card in the machine and started the process of paying for my groceries before I spoke.
“Barbara?”
Barbara’s cracked lips spread into a wide smile across her wrinkled face.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you’ve grown into…when I watched you, you were this tall,” Barbara said and then held her hand flat at about the level of my waist.
“Yeah, yeah. People grow, it’s true,” I agreed in a manner I hope wasn’t as snarky as it seems writing it out now.
I let out a nervous chuckle and started to backpedal, away from the checkout line.
“Are you staying at your folks’ place right now?” Barbara asked.
“Yeah.”
“I ran into your sister about six months ago. I’m so sorry to hear about your mom,” Barbara went on.
Barbara ignored the cashier and stuck me with a hug before I could slip any further. I felt her bosom awkwardly smash up against my rib cage.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
Barbara thankfully pulled away from me.
“I told your sister I remembered two things about you. You walked on your toes for some reason, and you and your sister constantly talked about monsters a lot. You two were always really, really scared of ‘bloody monsters.’”
*
I couldn’t get the second thing Barbara said out of my head as I drove up the highway towards the house I grew up in and both my parents had died in within the past couple of years.
I called up my sister. She didn’t answer. She hadn’t answered her phone in months. I don’t know why I even kept trying. I left a voicemail.
“=It’s Sam. I just ran into Barbara. The lady who ran our daycare at the store and she said something weird. She specifically mentioned we always talked about monsters and being scared of ‘bloody monsters.’ Weird she specifically mentioned that, but I wanted to talk to you about it. See what you might have remembered. I kind of remember being scared a lot, but would never have thought it would be something enough for her to mention 15 years later. Call me back. Bye.”
I wrapped up my message just as I pulled up to the dirt driveway which snaked up to my parents’ house and the tin mailbox with our last name printed on it in big, sloppy white painted letters which were so faded they could almost no longer be read.
I expected to feel the familiar touch of dry paper envelopes when I stuck my arm in the mailbox, but instead brushed up against the stiff plastic of an unmarked VHS tape.
My dead parents still had a VCR hooked up and ready to go in their living room. It ironically sat next to a DVD player I gave them about 20 Christmases ago they never set up.
My fingertips started to sweat when I pushed the tape into the VCR, hit play and looked up at the blue screen of the TV. I had no clue what I was about to watch.
I took a deep breath when I saw the video open up to a grainy shot. I gulped that breath down when I immediately recognized the setting.
The fake wood paneling of the play room in Barbara’s double-wide trailer which housed her day care was unmistakable. I can still remember the box of a room which was kept empty except for one basket of toys. All those years later, the stale, empty space still gave me a hollow feeling and tingle in my spine.
The video cut back to blue again then crackled back to life with a grainy image of myself. Probably seven. Dressed in Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtles pajamas and a bowl cut with a cowlick which sat atop a melon head which was too big for my skinny body.
“What’s your name?” A groggy male voice I remembered as belonging to Barbara’s husband Dale asked my younger self as I looked away from the camera.
“Jame,” the younger me mumbled on the camera and winced against the sharp lighting which shone in my face.
The camera quickly zoomed out and panned a little to the right to reveal my sister Mandy standing next to me in Little Mermaid pajamas.
“And what’s your name?” Dale asked.
Mandy took a little longer to answer. She quivered. Appeared on the verge of tears. I took some time to take in the setting again. Out the window behind both of our little bodies, I could see it was night. Yet, I had no memory of ever being at Barbara’s daycare at night.
“Mandy,” the word barely dribbled out of my sister’s pursed lips.
I heard a woman’s voice mutter something I couldn’t make out off the camera and then the room went dark. I could now just barely see the outlines of my sister and myself in the almost complete blackness.
The sounds of myself and my sister beginning to cry filled the darkness for a few seconds before being drowned out by the sound of a quick shake of the entire room. It sounded like someone had thrown down a basketball on the floor as hard as they could and then caught it on its way back up. Then again. The crying sounds got louder.
“There it is,” the woman’s voice off-camera got a little louder and I was able to identify it as belonging to Barbara.
“Please. No,” my sister cried out.
One more thud sound reverberated through the room followed by a few seconds of silence and then a horrible screeching sound of a siren rang out.
The screeching siren went for a few seconds and then came to an abrupt stop. The lights flicked on and Mandy and I stood in our same spots, panting and trying to catch our breath.
The thud sound returned. This time, the thud sent my sister and I flying into opposite corners of the room. We each hit the fake wood wall hard and crashed down to the ground.
“Stop. We gotta stop,” Barbara’s voice yelled out from off-camera.
I saw a younger Barbara walk into frame for a second and then the video cut out.
The video came back on and changed to a close up shot of Barbara sitting in a chair in the blank play room with her plume of blonde hair done up in spectacular fashion and her cheeks rouged. She looked like she was doing one of those old video dating personals from the early-90s.
“My name is Barbara Daniels. I am from Adams Grove, Oklahoma and I believe we have discovered paranormal powers in our home manifesting themselves in the bodies of two young siblings who attend our daycare. What you will see on this video tape is either a spirit or the work of a demon, some kind of pol-ter-a-geist, and we would like to request the Supernatural Advocates come to our home, in Adams Grove, and help us in an episode figure out what is happening with these children,” Barbara stopped for a moment to collect herself.
“Can you please explain the situation with the kids?” Dale asked from behind the camera.
“The children are ages seven and 10 and attend my daycare. These episodes start when they fall asleep in the night and they wake up in a daze before they fall asleep again shortly after. After they wake up they seem to have absolutely no memory of what happened. However, they constantly talk about how they are scared of ‘the monsters,’ and ‘the bloody monsters,’ though they do not have many details about what these monsters are. We made these tapes to show what is happening to these kids in hopes they can get the help it appears their parents don’t want them to get before something bad happens.”
The video opened again with Mandy and I standing in the room in our cartoon pajamas trembling.
Barbara walked into frame and put her hands on each of our shoulders.
“We’re right here,” Barbara said so quietly the camera barely picked it up. “This is the last time.”
Barbara got back behind the camera. The lights flicked on and off in the time it took for her to get out of the shot.
The thud sound from the earlier footage began again and the room shook. The younger me dropped to the floor and stuck his face into the carpet. Mandy just kept staring at the camera, seemingly frozen.
Another thud. Mandy dropped to the ground like a bomb went off.
“Fuck you,” Mandy screamed at the camera. “I’ll fucking kill you,” she screamed again and her voice seemed to drop about 10 octaves.
“Has this happened before?” Dale asked quietly from behind the camera.
No answer from Barbara.
“You’re a fucking cheater. Mike Blake is a fucking cheater and everyone needs to know it. You probably have fucking herpes now or something from her dirty pussy,” Mandy took a few defiant steps towards the camera and pointed a flexed finger at the lens with hate burning in her eyes.
“Who is Mike Blake?” Dale asked.
Again, no answer from Barbara.
I knew the answer to the question. Mike Blake was my sister’s soon-to-be ex-husband she broke up because he was cheating with a bar slut from town.
Mandy collapsed onto the floor on the screen and younger me rose to my feet at just the same time as the lights started flickering every half-second the way they do when you take the light switch and turn it on and off as fast as you can.
Then the video cut out.
I wasn’t going to waste time with a call now. I got back into my truck and drove straight to Mandy’s house on the other end of town.
Much like my parents, Mandy lived down a long, muddy private driveway which snaked off the highway and led up to a large, but worn-down and rustic house at the top of a steep hill. A pack of filthy dogs announced my arrival when I pulled into her gravel driveway and looked up at her house as a thick stream of smoke billowed out the chimney and into the tall trees.
The dogs nipped at the dirty cuffs of my jeans when I walked up to the porch and noticed there didn’t seem to be a light on anywhere on the property despite the fading sunset and near darkness of the woods around the home. The only light I was able to see came from a candle lit in the window of the living room which sat next to the front door.
I knocked softly on the wooden front door with my eyes stuck on the living room window. I noticed a breeze walk by the lit wick of the candle a few moments after my knock. I held my breath as I listened to footsteps approach the door on the other side.
I was shocked by what greeted me when the door opened. I recognized Mandy, but it looked as if she was wearing some kind of Hollywood special effect makeup which made her look like a real life witch. Wrinkled and just slightly hued yellow, her skin looked like that of an 80-year-old dying woman’s, not that of a woman just in her early-30s. Her eyes were sunken in her skull like a shrunken head and her hair was a tangled rat’s nest on the edge of dreadlocking.
“You shouldn’t have talked to her,” Mandy said before I could get a word out.
“You got my message?”
“You shouldn’t have talked to her,” Mandy repeated.
Mandy waved me into the darkness inside her home and shut the door behind me.
The house was as cold as it was dark. I shivered through my winter coat when I followed Mandy into the candle-lit living room. I took a seat on the dewy couch in front of a coffee table littered with dirty dishes and dirty laundry.
“It’s freezing in here,” I muttered through clenched teeth.
I looked across the room to see Mandy offering me a cigarette from her seat in a stained easy chair.
“No thanks,” I said with a shake of the head and took the VHS tape out of my jacket pocket.
“You shouldn’t have talked to her,” Mandy cut me off and eyed the tape. “And I’ve seen that tape too. She gave that shit to me. She must have copies or something.”
“At Barbara’s house? The lights going on and off, us flying around the room and talking about horrible things that happen later in life?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
Mandy lit up another cigarette.
“You know that thing Barbara told you about us always talking about monsters? That was the monsters on that tape. She told me something where we had to stay the night there and they noticed we had night terrors and these poltergeist abilities and they recorded it to try and get us on some show where some experts would try to help us, but they ended up never sending in the tapes. I told her to get lost, but regardless, we’re both fucked. I think talking about it, made the monsters come back.”
One of Mandy’s cigarettes started to sound really good.
“I couldn’t really remember the monsters or ever really thought about them until I ran into Barbara at the deli. I think they are probably coming back for you too. They terrorized us as kids. I keep seeing this horrible, dead-looking man all around the house,” Mandy explained.
“What are they? The monsters?” I asked.
“They seem to change, but they come when you try to go to sleep and they hide in the shadows - cling to the corners, closets, where it is dark. I don’t actually get a good look at them much, but they seem to just look like hideous people. The one I see the most is this guy covered in blood.”
The images started to come back to me just a little bit. Like the mismatched puzzle pieces of a night of blackout drinking might after weeks pass. I could picture myself waking up in the middle of the night in my parents’ house, tip-toeing in the dark on the way to the bathroom, or Mandy’s room to seek shelter and seeing the shadows down the hall or behind the shower curtain or shaking the doors of my closet.
I suddenly felt as if the monsters were crawling all over the room. The childhood fear which paralyzed my every step once the sun went down started to come back. My panicked eyes scanned the room, looking for them. I saw none, but I felt them.
“If these things work in the dark, then why don’t you have any lights on?” I asked.
“You try paying electricity bills when you can’t sleep and your piece of shit husband leaves you alone. They shut the power off,” Mandy finally seemed to show some energy when she spoke.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Mandy mumbled.
“Should we go to Barbara with the tapes?” I asked.
*
Barbara’s house was exactly the same. Raised double-wide with brown and tan paint and a wooden deck raised up off the ground level and a big tool shed. I almost felt like I had traveled back in time just going to the place.
Barbara gave us a frazzled look when she saw us standing on her porch. She followed it up with one of those looks someone gives when they pretend to be excited to randomly bump into someone, but are actually horrified about it. You could see the breath get sucked out of her in an instant.
“Oh hi,” Barbara spoke after a few frenzied seconds. “Do you want to come in?”
“Here’s fine.”
I whipped the VHS tape out of my jacket pocket and pushed it in her face.
“What is this?”
“That’s the tape we made for the paranormal help show.”
“Why did you stick it in our mailbox?” I cut off Barbara.
“I didn’t put that in your mailbox,” Barbara said defensively.
The gears started to turn in my head. She was telling the truth. Barbara was behind me in line at the store when I bumped into her and I went directly to my truck and raced to my parents’ right after that. There was no way she got that tape into the mailbox after we talked.
“I admit,” Barbara going on broke me out of my thought process. “I took that video, but I gave it to your grandmother years ago, both tapes.”
*
My father’s mother was a very complicated topic and figure in our lives. I vaguely remember her as a steady presence in our lives in my very first memories. A rail thin woman with long red hair and pale skin, I seem to remember her always giving me really good salty, sweet cookies that she made, so I thought she was pretty cool.
Then, suddenly, she was completely out of our lives. No Thanksgiving, no Christmas, no birthdays, no weddings, funerals, just gone. Without any explanation from either of my parents. It was like she had never even existed.
I didn’t think about my grandma after she disappeared until high school, when Mandy told me she found out our grandma was the person who ran the psychic business along the highway a few towns over. I thought about dropping in there for years, but I never did.
I figured it was time to finally pay that palm reader by the highway a visit.
The red and purple neon sign I remembered still buzzed in the window of the little house on the edge of the little village of Branchford. It was nearly 9, but the sign still burned the word OPEN into the night.
“You think she’s still alive?” Mandy asked as we sat in the truck, looking at the house. “Mom and dad are already dead.”
“They died super young. I think she’s only like in her late-70s, or something. We’ll just have to find out, I guess,” I answered.
We walked up to the door and pressed an electronic doorbell. Classical chimes rang out from inside of the home.
The door opened before the chimes stopped and we came face-to-face with the grandma we hadn’t seen in more than 20 years. Her long red hair was shorter and had turned gray and her face was a lot less sharp, but it was definitely her.
“I knew you were coming,” grandma said before ushering us in.
Grandma sat us down in her fortune telling/palm reading room and poured us cups of hot tea without asking if we wanted them.
“You watched the tapes?” My grandma said once we all sat down on deep purple furniture.
“Yeah, look, I don’t know what happened between you and mom and dad, but I don’t care. I just want to know what this is and what we can do about it,” I explained. “I don’t want to end up like her,” I finished and pointed to Mandy..
My grandma took a deep breath and started in...
“It’s a lot more simple than you might think. When you two were young, I started to notice you had some of the psychic abilities I have. The two of you could see things that hadn’t happened yet, or see people in places before they were there or in states, ages, they had not appeared yet. Your parents wanted to put you in therapy, but I knew the only true way you could get through it all was to understand it. I tried to tell your parents that, but they wouldn’t have any of it. They just put you straight in therapy to block it all out, and it worked, for a long time. I instead tried to work with your babysitter, who was a client and it started to work, but your parents found out. Then they cut me off. I had to wait until they died to reach back out to you about it and it is good timing, because I can tell your powers have come back and they only come back in this way, when something very big is about to happen. Something the power wants to tell you about.”
“Now what?” I asked.
My grandma’s face lit up.
“You need to come back. I can explain to you that what you might think are monsters are not really monsters at all, they are probably just people you know flashing before you at different stages, moments, of their lives that you will see. You need to be prepared for the night visions experienced on those tapes as well, because they are coming back.”
“Okay, great,” I said sarcastically. “I know my vision. It's me, getting on my flight back to Houston tomorrow with a good night’s sleep.”
I got up and Mandy followed me out the door. Grandma stumbled after us with tears in her eyes.
“You have to come back. I feel something very big coming,” my grandma pleaded from her open doorway.
Mandy and I ignored grandma. We walked out to my truck, got inside and drove away.
We pulled away with a tension sweating out of our pores and into the cramped cab of the single bench truck. Mandy wasn’t talking, but I sensed she may have thought I made the wrong decision.
I reached over and turned on the radio to try and cut through the animosity in the air.
All that came out of the speakers was static. I scanned through more stations. Nothing but static.
I stopped the dial when I finally reached a station which had sound. The nasally drone of a newscaster speaking in a monotone leaked out the blown speakers.
“Tornado warnings have been issued for Shelby, Brockton and Ogden Counties. Residents are advised to seek shelter immediately,” the newscaster’s voice announced.
The world outside had seemed to maintain an eerie calm all night, but I noticed the trees which lined the highway were swaying violently. Large piles of debris and shrubs were skating across the highway in front of us.
A branch broke off a tree and landed in the bed of my truck with a hard thud.
The world outside the truck had turned into complete chaos as we drove into the meager downtown of Branchford.
A strangely familiar sound cut into my ears as I slowed the car next to an abandoned church. It was that siren screech from the VHS tape where my sister and I were in the playroom at Barbara’s house. It was a tornado warning siren, bellowing from the fire station in the middle of the town.
I parked the car in front of the church.
“Come on,” I screamed as loud as I could as I opened the door and let in a horrifying gust of wind.
I pushed myself against the wind and out the door. I kept running until I reached the open front door of the church.
On the ground of the church, I struggled to breath and looked back out the open door where I saw no sign of Mandy. I waited for about five seconds before I crawled over to the rows of wooden pews and tucked myself under the first one I could reach.
I covered my head, clenched my teeth and prayed the tornado would pass without killing me. I had survived tornadoes before growing up in Oklahoma, but had never been this close to one and was sure I was going to die in the rickety church surrounded by abandoned Bibles and the guilt of leaving Mandy behind.
Looking back now, the time I spent beneath the pew was probably only about two minutes, but the time crawled when I was there, curled up, fighting against the wind felt like two hours.
I at first thought I was going to be able to ride out the storm in the church, but then I felt my body lift up into the air. I felt myself soar through the air for a handful of seconds with my eyes shut tight before I crashed hard into the ground and opened my eyes.
I was in the yard of the church facing where the church once stood. The faded white building had been reduced to a few scraps of wood and some pews which were flipped over on their side.
The siren still rang out at ear-splitting volume, but I heard what is the most-disgusting sound I have ever heard in my life. It sounded like someone coughing, sneezing and barfing at the same time.
I turned around to locate the noise and saw Mandy stumbling around the grass behind me, covered in blood which poured out of deep gashes on her forehead and neck. My heart stopped. I had seen this image before, but instead in the dark of my parents’ house, inside my closet when I opened it up to confront the monsters. The last images I had of my sister, stumbling around covered in blood from the tornado, trying not to die was the image of the monster. The bleeding woman who haunted my childhood was Mandy. The “bloody monster.”
I tried to scream out to Mandy over the roar of the siren, the blasts of the wind and through my froggy throat, but I couldn’t even hear myself scream, I just yelled in vain until a coat of red blood washed over my eyes and I passed out.
*
I woke up in a hospital bed with every single atom in my body aching. I could barely breathe, but I was alive.
There wasn’t another soul in the room, just the lonely periodic beep of some machinery, my pain and a little bit of light which came from the hallway through the open door.
I survived. Mandy did not. I would find out later that day that she bled to death in front of what was left of the church.
There was no one to help me pick up the pieces of what happened, but I was able to figure it out mostly on my own. The terrifying incident that Mandy and I kept having playing out in the night Barbara caught on camera was us seeing the future of the tornado incident where Mandy would die and I would almost die. The monsters we would see were each other, covered in blood, 20 years older and not looking anything like people we would recognize when we were kids.
Grandma was right, her feeling that she needed to warn us was true. The visions had tried to prepare us to survive the most-dangerous moment of our lives, but we weren’t able to harness it because we weren’t trained.
My grandma would be the only person who would come visit me in the hospital the week I was there. She accepted my apologies and understood why I dismissed her at first.
We never really talked about the visions or seeing into the future in the hospital. We mostly just bonded. She even brought me some of the amazing salted chocolate chip cookies she used to give to me as a kid on my last night in the hospital. We ate them and made plans for me to come back to her office and start working on properly handling my powers when I was ready.
My usual work routine and life helped put me back at ease and heal for the first couple of weeks back in Houston, but it would not last. After about two weeks, the night visions from my childhood started to come back. At first they were mostly just feelings or sounds or a sense that someone was watching me, but things came to a stomach-turning head last night.
I woke up because I felt the blanket pull off of my head as if someone had tugged it back towards my feet. Having to pee, I got up out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
Trying to keep myself from fully waking up, I didn’t turn on the light in the bathroom, just starting pissing in the near dark. Things were going smoothly until I noticed a shadow and heard the faint sound of something swaying behind the shower curtain.
I clenched my teeth hard and whipped open the shower curtain. Dangling from the shower head was the gray, naked corpse of my grandma. Noose around her neck.
I screamed and ran back to my bed before I was even finished going to the bathroom. I laid frozen until the sun came up.
I started calling the number my grandma gave me, but am starting to get very worried because she hasn’t answered any of my calls..

It was a dark and stormy night, and Sarah was driving home from her friend's house. She had taken a shortcut through the woods to save time, but she soon regretted her decision. The rain was coming down in sheets, and she could barely see the road ahead of her.
Suddenly, her headlights illuminated a figure standing in the middle of the road. Sarah slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The car hit the figure with a sickening thud, and Sarah's heart skipped a beat. She got out of the car and approached the figure, only to find that it was a scarecrow.
Relieved, Sarah got back in her car and continued driving. But something felt off. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was following her. She turned up the radio to drown out her fears, but the static-filled airwaves only made her more anxious.
As she drove deeper into the woods, Sarah started to see strange things. Trees that seemed to move on their own, shadows that darted across her peripheral vision. And then, she saw it. A figure in the distance, standing under a flickering streetlamp.
Sarah slowed down, but before she could stop, the figure darted towards her car. She hit the gas and swerved to avoid it, but it was too late. The figure slammed into the side of her car, sending her spinning off the road and into a ditch.
Dazed and confused, Sarah stumbled out of the car and tried to call for help. But her phone was dead, and there was no signal in the woods. She was alone, stranded, and something was out there, watching her.
As the night wore on, Sarah realized that she was being hunted. The figure that had hit her car was still out there, and it was coming for her. She tried to run, but the woods seemed to shift and twist around her, trapping her in a labyrinth of trees and darkness.
Finally, exhausted and scared, Sarah collapsed on the ground. And then, she saw it. The figure, looming over her, its eyes glowing in the dark. She screamed, but it was too late. The figure pounced, and Sarah was never seen again.
The next morning, the police found Sarah's car, abandoned in the woods. There was no sign of her, no trace of where she had gone. But some say that on dark and stormy nights, you can still hear her screams echoing through the woods, a warning to anyone foolish enough to take the shortcut through the woods.
After Sarah's disappearance, rumors began to spread about the woods. People talked about strange figures and unnatural sounds, warning others to stay away from the area. Some claimed to have seen Sarah's ghost, wandering the woods in a daze.
But despite the warnings, some thrill-seekers still ventured into the woods, hoping to uncover the truth about what had happened to Sarah. They searched for clues and evidence, but all they found were shadows and whispers.
As time went on, the woods became a magnet for the curious and the reckless. People came from all over, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure that had taken Sarah. Some even camped out in the woods, determined to solve the mystery once and for all.
But one by one, they all disappeared. Some were never heard from again, while others returned with tales of terror and madness. They spoke of figures that moved like shadows, of whispers that echoed through the trees, of something that was watching them, always watching.
And then, one day, a group of hikers stumbled upon an abandoned cabin in the heart of the woods. Inside, they found a journal, filled with cryptic notes and strange symbols. But the most chilling discovery was a photograph of Sarah, her eyes wide with terror, a dark figure looming over her.
The hikers knew they had to leave the woods, but it was too late. The shadows were closing in, and they could hear the whispers, taunting them, calling them deeper into the woods. And then, they saw it. The figure, standing in the distance, its eyes glowing in the dark.
Terrified, the hikers ran, but the woods seemed to shift and twist around them, trapping them in a maze of trees and darkness. They could hear the figure behind them, gaining on them, until finally, it was too late.
The woods fell silent, and the figure vanished, leaving no trace of its victims. But some say that on dark and stormy nights, you can still hear the whispers in the woods, and the sound of footsteps, echoing through the trees. And if you listen closely enough, you can hear the screams of the lost, trapped forever in the nightmare of the woods.
Years passed, and the legend of the woods grew. People talked about it in hushed tones, warning their children to never venture too far into the trees. But there were still those who were drawn to the mystery, who felt a strange pull towards the darkness that lay within.
Among those drawn to the woods was a group of college students, eager to prove their bravery and unravel the secrets that lay within. They gathered their gear and set out, determined to uncover the truth.
At first, the woods seemed quiet and peaceful, but as night fell, the darkness seemed to press in on them, making them feel small and vulnerable. They set up camp, building a fire to ward off the chill, and took turns keeping watch.
But as the night wore on, things began to change. The fire flickered and died, leaving them in complete darkness. And then, they heard it. The whispers, creeping through the trees, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment.
The students tried to ignore the whispers, telling themselves that it was just their imagination, but it was no use. The whispers became more intense, drawing them closer and closer to the heart of the woods.
As they walked, they began to see strange figures moving in the darkness, shifting and changing like shadows. They heard the sound of footsteps behind them, always just out of reach. And then, they saw it. The figure that had haunted the woods for so long, standing before them, its eyes glowing in the dark.
The students tried to run, but it was too late. The figure was too fast, too strong, and it overpowered them one by one. They screamed and begged for mercy, but there was none to be found.
And then, the woods fell silent once more, as the figure disappeared into the darkness, leaving no trace of its victims. The legend of the woods grew even stronger after that, and people began to wonder if there was any truth to the rumors about the dark figure that haunted the trees.
To this day, no one knows what really happened in the woods that night. Some say that the figure was a vengeful spirit, seeking revenge for the wrongs done to it in life. Others say that it was something even more sinister, a creature that had never been meant to exist in this world.
But one thing is certain. The woods hold a terrible secret, and those who venture too far into the darkness may never return.

1. NEVER look at the gardener
2. Enter doors only after knocking
3. The clocks need daily winding
4. House staff and visitors must mask.
5. Every statue in the Long Hall must be COMPLETELY covered
6. Rule three repeats for the grandfather clock; set again before leaving
7. Wrong deliveries occur daily!
.... Only accept on the second attempt, not the first or third
.... Run the package to the center of the hedge maze.
.... Leave the maze within five minutes.
8. Depart Kilgore Court for any video calls; video and photography are strictly prohibited!
I’m halfway through my three week stint as a house sitter at Kilgore Court, an allegedly haunted estate where I’m required to follow strict rules. There’s also a hidden rule in the list when the first words of each line are strung together, along with a secret word in the first letters (N-E-T-H-E-R-W-O-R-L-D).
When I spoke with my sister earlier this week about my new job, she laughed. “Oh my gosh, isn’t there a small part of you that wants to break a rule, just to see what would happen?”
“No.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, Sam! Can I come see this haunted house you’re in?”
My twin sister Elena is the opposite of me in every respect. She has friends; I have none. She worked through college and bought a house; I still live with our parents. I consider her brash, loud, and reckless. She considers me a “socially impaired loser with a stick the size of a baseball bat up his ass” (her words). Given my difficulties with socialization and therefore employment, I am sure it was a surprise for her to hear I had acquired this job. My employer is endlessly complimentary (by this I meant Pim Perrin—I had not met Mr. Kilgore). My tasks are minimal. And my pay is three times hers. She actually accused me of making it all up—which made me frown. I do not lie.
“That’s not true. You have lied,” she said over the video call.
“I haven’t lied since we were eight years old.”
“Pretty sure I caught you jerking off once and you lied that you were ‘reading’ the article—”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ell.” My sister is the only person who has ever been able to wind me up. “Look behind me. Does this look like our parents’ house?”
She was still giggling at having gotten me to swear (it was against the rules growing up—and I still rarely use profanity). “I mean, it could be a background. Looks like you just plucked it off the internet—"
I brought the phone through the sitter’s suite, lingering on the embroidered furniture, the balcony and the brocade curtains.
“Holy fuck that’s your office? Swanky. Hey can I come visit?!”
“No.” I turned the camera back toward me.
“Oh, come on!”
The truth is, I did want to give her permission to visit. Many things around this place did not make sense, and I would have welcomed another pair of eyes and opinions than my own.
I also had a more self-serving reason. I was sick of my twin sister regarding me as a failure, and it would have felt validating to show her that, whatever my deficits in charm, I could succeed in this position, where social interactions were unnecessary and my exacting nature was useful regarding the rules.
I wanted her to realize that I was not the utter failure she thinks I am.
That is why I eventually said, “Yes.”
But even after I made her swear to follow all the rules, I knew I was making a mistake—my twin sister is exactly the wrong sort of person to bring to Kilgore Court.
Rule Two
“HOOOOLY SHIT!” Elena whirled, snapping pictures as we ascended the front steps to the grand double doors. I made a calculated grab and snatched her phone, tucking it into my back pocket despite her squawks.
“Rule eight, no video or photography. I’ll give it back after the tour. Wait here.”
“What? Why am I—ooohhhh, right.” She chuckled as I put on my magpie mask and ducked inside. “Rule one,” she sang mockingly from behind the doors as I grabbed a vividly colored parrot mask from the foyer cloakroom.
“Rule four,” I corrected, returning to hand her the mask.
“Why am I a parrot?”
“Because you—”
“—talk to much,” we finished at the same time. “Jinx,” she added lightly, strapping on the mask. “How do I look, Mr. Magpie?”
Looks were irrelevant; the point of the mask was compliance with rule 4. Elena blew a raspberry when I told her this, and instead of following me up to the sitter’s quarters, she insisted on touring the mansion first. I had no choice but to follow—otherwise she’d have opened doors without knocking (rule 2).
Obviously she could not be allowed anywhere near the garden or the Long Hall, and I abbreviated our tour to a few of the grandest rooms, including the conservatory, the library, the lounge, the ballroom, and “all the Clue Board rooms” (as she put it). When we neared the kitchen, the odor of the corpse blossoms—which was ever present throughout the drafty house—became eye-wateringly strong. Upon knocking and opening the kitchen door, the stench of rot made me gag.
“UUGH!” exclaimed Elena, clapping a hand to her nose. “Bro. It smells like they left a whole pig to rot… What is that stink?”
“I don’t know.” The sitter’s quarters has its own kitchen, and there were no tasks to bring me regularly to this wing of the house. Garlic braids hung from the ceiling, and some bread sat going stale in a basket, but mostly the kitchen was bare. After a cursory look through the cupboards turned up nothing, I turned to leave.
I was on my way out when I heard her say four words that sent a chill up my spine:
“Where does this lead?”
I looked back. She had opened the cellar door. Only…
She hadn’t knocked.
“The cellar,” I said mechanically, my mind slow to catch up.
“I think the smell’s coming from down there—”
“Ell, don’t!” Breaking out of my trance, I lunged and caught her wrist so hard she yelped.
“What the hell??”
“Don’t—don’t go down there.” I stared past her. I had never been down to the cellar before, but Pim had showed it to me the first day—brick walls descending to racks of wine and some stored root vegetables.
This… was not the same stairwell. For one thing, there was no light switch on the wall. And the walls were not brick, but dank and glistening stone, as were the stairs, descending into a square of blackness so thick it was impossible to make out anything down there except…
The stench.
The overpowering, eye-watering, stomach-churning stench.
“… Yeah, I wasn’t planning on going down there,” Elena said, shoving past me. She playfully tried to shut the door on me, and my heart slammed into my ribs. I rammed through her to get out. I shut the door behind us as Elena barked at me, “Ow! You jerk!”
“Stop dicking around,” I hissed.
“GOD, you are so uptight!”
“You promised to follow the rules—”
We bickered all the way back to the sitter’s quarters, where she hurled off the parrot mask with a squawk of frustration and collapsed onto the fainting couch. “I am NOT wearing that itchy thing again. God! Stuff your stupid rules!”
This was as good a segue as any, so I sat down opposite her and said, “I want to talk to you about them, actually. To… to consult you.”
“Consult me?” she perked up.
“On these rules, and rumors of the mansion being haunted…” As she leaned in, I pointed to the pictures framed on the walls, explaining how they had all been drawn by the previous caretaker, who also penned the sitter’s rules, in which he embedded a secret warning. I ran my finger down the list, showing how it could read N-E-T-H-E-R-W-O-R-L-D and also if you strung together the first word of each line it read: “NEVER enter the house. Every Rule Wrong! Only run. Leave. Depart!”
Elena looked vaguely impressed. “Dude was committed to his creepy legacy.”
“That's not even the half of it. He claims he disfigured his own face as punishment for breaking a rule. He was diagnosed with dementia. He kept a journal, full of ravings, in which he expounded on his reasons for these specific rules..."
I showed her a paper I'd copied from his journal:
1. NEVER look at the gardener—the sight induces unbound terror and madness
2. Enter doors only after knocking—un-knocked doors lead to the bone closet
3. The clocks need daily winding—the chimes cast the veil
4. House staff and visitors must mask—the skinless man stalks the unmasked! There is no escaping the skinless man
5. Every statue in the Long Hall must be COMPLETELY covered—the unshrouded seek to swap places
6. Rule three repeats for the grandfather clock; set again before leaving—the clock sets time
7. Wrong deliveries occur daily—the wrong deliveries are collectors!
.... Only accept on the second attempt, not the first or third—the master awaits his meal
.... Run the package to the center of the hedge maze—the center is the rift.
.... Leave the maze within five minutes—linger and the veil will lift from your eyes.
8. Depart Kilgore Court for any video calls; video and photography are strictly prohibited—the camera does not lie!
I tapped my fingers nervously while my sister read. I had already agonized over these rules to the point of questioning my own sanity. The original caretaker also wrote about orgies with demons, curses he cast over his enemies, corpses he dragged into the garden to rot, and how he carried a syringe with anesthetic with him at all times until the day he cut his own face off. Records from last century detailing his “increasing hysteria” indicated that I should take his writings with a grain of salt, rantings of a sick mind in an age when medical care was rare. It was only tradition that the rules were handed down and still followed today, as was his name, "Pim Perrin," passed to every caretaker. Tradition, and likely marketing, given what the current Pim had told me about how staff play up the hauntings for credulous guests by fiddling with the electricity or jiggling tables.
All just superstition and stories.
Except... I had dreamed about the rules, and his explanation for them. I'd seen things I couldn't explain. I needed my sister to provide some insight—to be the grounding to all the electrifying strangeness I'd experienced. Or to tell me it was all real.
Still, I was not prepared for her reaction.
She burst into peals of laughter. “Don’t tell me,” she said, fighting for breath. “Don’t tell me you believe this nonsense?”
My face grew warm. “I…”
“Oh, Sam! Little brother!” Much to my chagrin, she hugged me, cradling my head against her like a small child. I shoved her back as she laughed. “Sweetie, you take everything so damn literally!”
“Ell—”
“Did this Pim guy talk in a spooky voice when he told you about this stuff? Ooooh, Sam, I, the caretaker of this haunted house, must issue you a waaaarniiinng!” She’d managed to snatch her phone from my pocket when hugging me, and spun around snapping pictures. She leaned in to show me. “Look. It’s all perfectly normal. The camera doesn’t lie, huh?”
“The rules don’t apply in the sitter’s quarters—”
“Oh, so it’s only out there that’s haunted?” She raised her eyebrows. Her challenge sent the hairs on the back of my neck prickling, and a terrible feeling churned in my gut as she asked, “So if I take a photo out there, I’ll see ghosts?”
“I don’t…”
“You don’t know? You mean you haven’t taken any?!” She stopped, eyes lighting up. “You haven’t? Oh my God, Sam, you are so precious! You didn’t want to break the rules!”
“Rule eight—”
“Rule eight! Rule eight, no pictures! Awww, poor Sam. It’s okay. Your sis is here now. I can break some of those big bad rules for you.”
“Ell, I didn’t ask you here to break rules—” Didn’t I, though? A small part of me wondered.
I could feel my grasp on the situation slipping away—and I was begging her to put on her mask when a loud, ominous tolling shattered the silence, and both of us jumped: DING-DONG!
Rule Seven
“Hell’s bells that’s loud! Is that the doorbell?” she asked.
“Ignore it.” I sat down at my desk, anxiety tying my intestines into knots with each ringing peal, a clanging like church bells…
My sister looked at the CCTV. “There’s someone at the door. A woman in a delivery uniform—she’s got a package.”
“I said ignore it.”
“Why are you…” She glanced at the rules, and her lips quirked.
I frowned as she stood up. “Ell—”
“Chillax, Sam-I-am.” She smiled impishly as she darted to the door. “I just wanna see—"
“ELL!!”
But she was already gone—with no mask—trotting down the stairs while I rushed to fasten on my mask. She yanked open the heavy front door just as I caught up, the parrot mask dangling uselessly from my fingers as the delivery woman handed her a machine for electronic signature. My sister offered the pen to me, and I shook my head, aghast. Shrugging, Elena signed. The driver handed her a white box.
“Huh.” Elena shook the box as the delivery van pulled away. “It’s empty!”
Oh, that churning in the pit of my stomach!
“You gonna be pissed if I open it?” she cocked her head.
She had broken rules 2, 4, and now 7… Everything was happening too fast. It was like when we were children, and she’d sneak out and shatter all our parents’ rules and warn me not to tattle. I always did. She always called me a “snitch” and a “narc.” But just like back then, I had to admit to a prickle of curiosity as she flouted authority. Perhaps my sister was right—perhaps the first caretaker had simply been mad, and I was acting out his whimsy with no better reason than that it was a tradition I’d been ordered to obey.
But the box was empty.
Inside the lid was written: Leave for the face collector.
I made a small, terrified sound in the back of my throat.
Elena cackled, leaning in to snap a selfie of us. “Smile, bro!” She giggled, spinning away from me as if she expected me to try to snatch her phone, and when I didn’t, she said, “Uh oh, now I’ve gone and done it. I broke Sam. Bro? You okay, or was that one too many rules? Gotta admit though, that last one was creepy. That’s going on Insta!” She laughed and tapped her fingers across her phone’s screen. Then she gasped. “Whoa—Sam!”
"Huh?” I said, her exclamation snapping me out of my catatonia.
“Dude, it’s gotta be a filter or something…”
In the photo, behind her beaming face and my feathered mask, the arched ceiling rose cracked and crumbling, the pillars streaked with grime. It was like one of those pictures of abandoned places you see viral online, all former grandeur descended into rot and decay.
“The hedge maze has… has hallucinogenic flora,” I murmured. “Maybe we’re imagining it…”
“Yo, wouldn’t hallucinogenic plants be, like, hugely illegal? And even if they do grow those, wouldn’t you have to make a tea or edible out of ‘em and ingest them or something?”
She was right of course. I had never probed too deeply, had just accepted Pim’s explanation, but… perhaps I should have challenged the nonsensical rationalizations he gave for the various rules. Only, I was never very good at confrontation. It was a facet of my twin sister I’d always admired. How she could just… flout any rule. But right now, as she continued taking pictures and swiping through images of the antique furniture covered in detritus and mold, I just wanted her to stop and for once heed the posted placard in the sitter’s quarters, because the feeling that something terrible was about to happen all but choked me.
“I think you should leave,” I said, and seized her arm.
“Ow—stop! Are you kidding? Sam, this is so cool! They must have the filter set automatically to the wifi or something—”
“There is. No. Wifi—”
But my parents couldn’t rein her in, much less her little brother, younger than her by 6 minutes (an age difference she never let me forget). She shook off my grip, and I realized it would either be a knock-down drag-out fight, or I’d have to let her work it out of her system. Since she’d already swatted my mask askew, I opted for the latter, trailing behind her like a beleaguered Hansel hauled by a heedless Gretel straight into the witch’s house.
There was never any stopping Elena.
Rule Four
She wandered through the grand rooms, gaping at the ruinous state the camera showed her. I can remember little about it now… only that I was like a piece of broken clockwork, stricken by the certainty that we were careening toward our doom. I felt more and more sure that the splendor around me had always been an illusion. That the former caretaker’s drawings weren’t just twisted visions of madness, but glimpses of the reality beneath the veil, and the house was drafty and smelled of rot, not because the windows were old and poorly insulated—but because there were no windows at all, only cracked glass and splinters. And I had for days been winding the clocks in a decaying, empty house.
“OOH! Sam, look at the chandeliers!”
Her exclamation as she showed me the ghostly flames made me think about the Long Hall. About the statues under the dustcovers. What would we see if she took a picture of them? That thought startled me enough to break me out of my stupor and steer her away from that wing. We found ourselves instead approaching the kitchen.
Suddenly I remembered the smell.
A terrible suspicion lit inside me. I wandered, dreamlike, past my sister and to the kitchen door. I was barely aware of her griping about the stench as I knocked and entered, snapping pictures of the room while holding my nose (with a mental twinge at rule eight), knocking and opening the cellar and snapping pictures of that too, and then opening the images on my phone, flicking through them until—
My breath caught.
The driver. A week after meeting the gardener, his body was bloating with putrefaction, the skin discolored in patches. But I still recognized him, mostly by his gaping sockets, eyes gouged out by his own keys. His body lay at the bottom of the cellar steps, and despite the cooler temperature in there, it looked like parts of him were beginning to ooze. For the regular staff to handle when they get back, came to me, almost in Pim’s dry voice.
“What the fuuuuuck…”
I whirled. “Ell, don't—“ I began, not wanting her to glimpse the horror on my screen, but that’s not what she was looking at.
Her eyes were riveted to a selfie she’d taken. In the image, she was squinting against the stench, hand clapped across her nose amidst dusty cabinets and cobwebs. But just behind her, the pantry door was ajar, and through the gap, a single milky white eye was visible. When she swiped to the next selfie, bony fingers curled round the edge of the door, and the gap had widened slightly.
“Ell.” I reached for her hand.
“What is that, Sam?” She pinched the screen and zoomed in on the fingers, rotted away so the muscle and bone was visible.
The skinless man stalks the unmasked. I tugged her arm, hard. “Let’s get out of—"
The pantry door slammed open.
Skinless Man
Both of us screeched, jumping and staring at the pantry. My quick thinking sister snapped another photo.
A clear figure stepped towards us from out of the pantry. He was so much more terrifying than in the original caretaker’s artwork. Framed by warped and broken cupboards and stepping barefoot across rotted filth, the man in the photo was so badly decayed that most of the skin had sloughed off, flesh dangling from stitches like an old patchwork coat on hangers of bone. In his fingers he held a needle and thread. The other hand extended towards the camera. Towards us.
In the split second it took to look at that photo, something bumped the table.
I shoved Elena behind me. “Go, go!”
Even as she ran, the ominous warning in the caretaker’s journal came to me: There is no escaping the skinless man… I doubted grabbing a mask from the cloakroom would be enough now. I had to get her off the estate grounds. But the squeak of the cellar door behind me brought my head whipping round. Elena gasped at something I couldn’t see down in the cellar’s depths. She hadn’t knocked.
“No!” I cried. “Shut it—”
My face struck the floor, the breath slammed out of me, a weight on my back pinning me down.
“Sam!” she shrieked.
As the weight lifted, Elena snatched a knife from the rack and took a step forward—only to stop, the knife clattering to the floor right next to my head. Her toes hovered an inch off the floor in front of my face, kicking the air, and as I lifted my gaze, I saw she was levitating—no, was lifted by some invisible hand, her throat constricted under some force that was squeezing tight. I snatched up the knife, slashing at the air behind her legs. The blade thunked. For a split second, I saw its edge embedded in the rotted black bone of an ankle. Then the foot kicked me with enough force to knock me through the open cellar door. Plunging down, down, into the dark. My head struck something cold, everything spun and went black.
The Bone Closet
I’m not sure how much later it was that I woke, gasping, and pushed myself up from the watery murk in which I found myself, a shallow pool of putrescence more viscous than water. It felt like I had tumbled straight into the worst fears of childhood, deep into the closet with its nightmare monsters—only there was nothing dreamlike about the stench of the place. Instinct—adrenaline—took over. I did not think of Elena. I did not think of the rules we had broken or the sheer impossibility of everything we’d witnessed in the past hours. I did not think of anything. Sam Miller had shut down, and the only operating system was a primal instinct with only one goal:
Escape the dark.
My hands fumbled for my phone, but it was gone—lost in the wet and slick. My fingers groped the walls. Down here, they were ribbed, ridged… bone flashed through my head. Walls constructed of bone. There was no light at all—
No. There were two luminescent pinpricks, far, in the distance.
The lights flickered. No. Blinked.
Not lights—eyes.
Something was down here, in the bone closet.
I went stock still, my lizard brain guiding my every decision as a faint, clacking, snapping sound shattered the silence. A sound of gristle and meat, of chewing. The eyes lowered and briefly winked out, followed by more crunching. I held my breath, suddenly terrified to so much as inhale. The sound of my own heart was a sledgehammer. Vague fears fluttered to my consciousness: could the thing hear my heartbeat, slamming like a frenzied bird against the cage of my ribs?
Fighting rising panic as the nightmarish reality of my situation settled in, I inched backward, feeling for the stairs… my fingers bumped stone, and I traced it up. A step. I was right on the verge of the steps. I had no idea if there was any way of opening the door from this side. The rules offered me no clues. There wasn’t even an outline of light above me. And how could the door to the bone closet open, given I was in a room that did not exist unless someone failed to knock? Hysteria rose, and I gave a little giggle.
The pinpricks of light shot up.
I shut up.
The lights fixed on me. A few more thoughtful crunching sounds. Swallowing. Something sloshed toward me.
Oh, fuck no. All caution forgotten, I scrambled up the steps.
A horrible howling shriek split the air, and great splashing leaps.
I slammed against stone. Stone! There was no door, only stone! A sob caught in my throat, and I pounded on the solid rock, gasping, “No, no, no, no no!” Then a sharp, searing pain as something clamped my leg. I screamed, scrabbling at the stairs.
Light flooded down like the heavens parting as a door suddenly opened.
The thing released my leg, retreating with a shriek into the darkness.
A liver-spotted hand grabbed my arm, hauling me up the stairs and out into the… foyer? I’d fallen in through the cellar. But that apparently didn’t matter for the bone closet, which was everywhere and nowhere.
Pim closed the cloakroom door. As soon as I was on my feet, he strode away, saying, “I was dreading the day this would happen… the day a mistake would be made.”
“That thing, that thing—” I gasped, suddenly remembering. “Elena! My sister! What happened to my—”
“You saw what happened to her. She broke rule four, and the skinless man took her.”
“No, no no, this can’t be real, none of this can be real, what the fuck is wrong with this house?” I shrieked, grabbing his arm.
“Let me go, Sam.” I heard his scowl beneath the faded magpie mask, the stern disapproval at my hysteria. “I have to deliver the package to the maze. You missed the second delivery, but luckily for us I caught it. It still has to be brought into the maze.”
He disengaged himself from me with surprising strength. Three raps on the door, and he was gone, leaving me to sink to my knees, lost in this nightmare that could not possibly be real. My brain was snapping, splintering. A machine with the cogs wound too tight. Cracking around the sheer madness of this house. And then I was wailing, sobbing, shrieking uncontrollably with my mind gone.
The Sitter
By the time Pim returned from his delivery, I had somewhat come back to myself. And though I was still in shock, my thoughts were calm, ordered. Everything made a perfect, terrible sense now in my mind. I stood up from where I had been waiting by the staircase and faced him. “Tell me the truth,” I said. “You lied to me about the driver. You told me he drove away.”
Pim’s head cocked, evaluating me behind the feathered mask. “Yes. I lied.”
“The gardener killed him.”
“Not exactly. You saw yourself—the driver killed himself.”
“Why?”
He shrugged as if annoyed. “You know the answer. Because the driver looked at him. Sam… you’ve seen the reality of the house. You wind the clocks each day because the chimes cast a veil that makes the house appear pristine. The reason you must not stay in the maze longer than five minutes is because the unholy forces are strongest at the center, and the veil would lift if you stayed too long. All of this is in the original caretaker's journal, which I know you have read because I left it for you.”
“What happens to me if the veil lifts?”
“You’ll see the real Kilgore Court.” He spread his hands. “The chimes veil the whole house—except for the gardener. When people look at something that doesn't belong in this world…” He trailed off, then added, “But, yes, I lied. I drove his van away, and told you that you were being affected by the flora.”
My fists clenched. “There’s no hallucinogenic flora in the maze.”
“No, Sam.”
“And if I looked at the gardener, would I also go insane?”
“Yes.”
“But not you?”
“Oh, I’m not immune,” said Pim, sounding surprised. “I’m the same as you.”
“But… you’ve worked here for…”
“Over a century.” He added, “Time does not pass the same in the house as out in the world.”
“How have you not died?”
“I followed the rules,” he said dryly. “Something you and I both excel at. Now…” He extended his hand toward the doors. “It is time for you to go, Sam Miller. I am truly sorry for your sister—it is, sincerely, the greatest regret of my life. But I promise you, if you obey the rules, you’ll come out of today just fine. And it really is a cushy job for misfits like us, who don’t fit into the world.”
“Fuck you, Pim,” I snapped. “If you think I would ever come back here…”
He shrugged as I shouldered past him to the front entrance, heedlessly bumping the umbrella stand on my way out, behind which I noticed the box my sister had left. The last of his precious rules she’d broken. Spitefully, I kicked it out from behind the stand toward him. Pim had apparently not noticed the box until that moment, because he went very still as it tumbled to his feet. His head lowered towards it. With the feathered mask, I could see nothing of his face, but something in his posture, in the way his fingers curled into claws of surprise, showed me his dismay. Then he said, hoarsely, “… who answered the first delivery?”
I found the lid, also dumped in the umbrella stand, and tossed it over to him.
A surprise for you, Pim. A gift, from my dead twin.
“Elena,” I told him.
His hands trembled as he lifted the small box, picked up the lid, and read the words inside: For the face collector.
A small sound came from the back of his throat.
“What happens when you break rule seven?” I wondered. “You never told me about the first and third deliveries.”
“Thank God it was the first…” Finally Pim exhaled. “The first collection is faces, the third is souls.” Then his magpie mask turned toward me. “I’m afraid the cost is exactly what it sounds like.”
“Guess you’d better pay it then.” I thought of the first caretaker’s disfigured face in the photo. “Seems like a trend among caretakers.”
“Normally, the person who answers the delivery pays the price.” Pim dropped the box and reached into his coat, withdrawing a syringe from an inner pocket. Through the raven mask, his eyes on me were cold. “… But since your sister has already been taken, the debt falls to her next of kin.”
I inched further out the door. We were similar in stature, but I had the advantage of youth and vitality. If I sprinted, I was certain I could outrun him. Though when I thought of the ease with which he’d lifted me out of the bone closet, I wondered if he wasn’t much stronger and quicker than he appeared. But then he aimed the point of the syringe at his own aging flesh under the mask and said, dryly, “Don’t think I’m sparing you. I’m really not.” To my shock, he injected himself. Then he slid a knife from somewhere in his sleeve (did he always carry a knife? And other implements?), and he slid it beneath his mask and into his own skin—
The sound he made, grunting as he sliced, was horrible. It didn’t come away all at once, either, but in pieces. He dropped raw skin into the box.
I ran. God help me, I ran, and left that madman cutting off his own face—hurtled down those steps, leaving my laptop and all my belongings upstairs. I had never flown faster in my life than I did down that curving drive, until I was at the wrought iron gates. They were locked, but I squeezed through the gap beneath the chain and got the hell out of Kilgore Court!
Rule Six
I pelted downhill on that bright, ordinary, beautiful street! The fresh scents of recent rain and spring flowers perfumed the air as I scampered past the gardens of the nearby Victorian houses. I raced all the way down to the bus stop, realizing only as I got to the bottom of the hill that without my wallet, I had no way to pay…
… but it did not matter.
Confused, I tilted my head. This was the same spot where I had stepped off and gotten onto the bus every day since more than a week ago when I’d first started this job, but there was no bus stop post. I snatched off my magpie mask, panting and out of breath. Peered up the cobblestone street. Cobblestone! Not asphalt!
The only passersby were men in suits much like Pim’s, and women in flowing skirts and wearing enormous hats. A woman pushed a baby-carriage that would not have been out of place in a sepia photograph from the early 1900s. I won’t belabor the point. I’d skipped rule six—setting the grandfather clock to the right time. I could now guess the consequences of that rule, though I spent the better part of the afternoon wandering around, my brain refusing to accept the evidence of the world around me, where I saw as many horses and carriages as automobiles.
It was dark by the time I ascended the driveway back to Kilgore Court. Looming at the crown of the hill, the house was brightly lit, warm with a crowd of people laughing and moving through the garden beyond. Some sort of dinner party. You’d never know the place was haunted. When I rang the bell, the door was answered by a man I recognized immediately by his hulking frame, and I wondered if his face beneath the mask was disfigured yet.
“And who are you, Sir?” the original caretaker demanded, looking me up and down with distaste.
I had been about to introduce myself as Sam Miller and plead—no, beg for him to set the grandfather clock to send me back to my own time. But something clicked in my mind as he spoke. Because you see, I gazed beyond him to the vast entrance hall in all its glory, dozens of people in furs and fancy coats, masked and laughing and joking in a masquerade party, all utterly unawares of the unholy ground on which they were standing. And I knew that even if I were to travel back through time and drag the authorities into the house, they would find no trace of my sister. The chimes would mask everything. I had been allowed a glimpse beyond the veil only because I’d played the role of the sitter; but to the rest of the world, it was a mad, ludicrous story. One I would eventually chronicle in my notebooks, inked meticulously by hand because I had left my laptop back in 2023—a laptop that, years in the future, I would use to finally complete this account following the handwritten notes from my youth. But at the time, I knew only that even if I could convince him to wind the clock forward—who would ever believe me? Me, Sam Miller, an unsocial, unemployed misfit with no friends or acquaintances, still living in his parents’ basement?
The caretaker leaned down toward me. He had noticed the mask under my arm.
I slid it onto my face, then stood straight and said, “I am Pim Perrin, the new caretaker.”
The original caretaker hesitated, staring for a long while. Then he stepped back, opening the door wide for me. For just a moment, I saw a double image—the warm, bright hall, filled with guests mingling below the towering columns. And a second image, much darker, not quite as many windows broken yet, but with the eyes of unspeakable things peering outward, one of which would doubtless be my new master, whom I had yet to formally meet. It was to these things I directed my attention as I bowed, and entered Kilgore Court.

Recently (this past week) we adopted a senior (13 years old) female small breed (jack russell/chihuahua mix) from our city animal control. She had been dumped there by her previous owners who she had been with all her life as her medical needs were too much and she wasn’t good at “ratting” anymore. While there, she had five rotten teeth removed, leaving her with five total teeth left and we were given a prescription for carprophen. She was also being treated with metronidazole for “bloody diarrhea”. We finished all her meds and she has been settling in really well. Until the last few days.
These are her weird existing/developing behaviors: -anxiety about car rides and being left home alone (shaking, panting, yelp/screaming) understandable due to her abandonment-we will work through it and help her feel safe -she aggressively chews at her feet, she will put her entire paw in her mouth and gum on it like she is trying to chew it off. -she will get all excited about once a day, play with a toy and then uncontrollably start air humping anything fuzzy, beds, blankets etc. -she alternates between eating her food so voraciously that she is done in seconds or picking at it and trying to bury it with her nose. -she has not had diarrhea but her poops are soft-serve and she strains at the end to squeeze out these thin bits at the end. -does not like to be picked up and almost winces if you try to gently lift her by her underarms/belly area.
Help! I have owned many many rescue dogs and they all have little quirks, but she by far has some of the oddest habits and I suspect anxiety/digestive issues/skin allergies are the root? Looking for any advice!

So recently my husband and I moved back to my home country to be closer to my mother so that she could spend more time with my son. After just a few months it all started to fall apart. She started to accuse me of gaslighting her because I was getting genuinely worried for her mental health, She doesn't leave the house outside of going to work or the occasional grocery shop and spends a lot of her time alone in her room. She's also heavily controlled by my extremely toxic grandma and I think she struggles a lot with it. We were fighting almost every night about her needing to move out because she still lives next door to my grandparents who let themselves in without asking and treat her like complete shit. I also discovered I was pregnant fairly early into our move and that the healthcare in my country was extremely expensive and not as good as the care I would get in the UK. We made the extremely painful and difficult decision to move back, which has put is in quite a terrible situation as when we moved we gave away and sold the majority of our furniture,white goods and even our car. We're currently living with my mother in-law until we get back on our feet. This morning I was offered a job so I guess that's a good start. For a little while we had decided to stay here until the baby was born but now it's clear being here is what's best for both my husband and Is mental health and for our son. When I told my mother we weren't moving back she started throwing all kinda of nasty insults at both myself and my husband, then said that she may as well have abandoned me like my dad did because I'd chosen to live away from her. She's now cut all contact with me and blocked all of my husband's family on Facebook, she even deleted my younger brother who still lives with her and has really nothing to do with any of this because he said she was being unreasonable.
Anyway, before all of this we were close and would talk about everything all the time. I'm not sure what happened between me leaving the first time and us coming back but she's not the person I used to know. I'm feeling very lost and alone, there's an empty void. I keep wanting to message her and show her videos of my son saying new words or learning new things. My brother in law was recently in the hospital in a fairly serious state and I really felt like I needed her support. Though I know if I had mentioned it I'd be met with something alone the lines of "so you can be there for his family but not your own?!" She's also extremely mad at me for cutting off my grandparents and says that because she was abuses too and forgave them that I need to just get past it. My heart is broken, I know she won't want anything to do with my baby once they're born and honestly I just don't know how to cope. I'm sorry this was a long post and if my spelling isn't so good. Thank you for talking to time to read it and if anybody has any suggestions on how to feel better please let me know.

Because I think it makes me come off as feeling overly sorry for myself or attention seeking or like I’m making causes for myself.
When in reality I think I should actually feel a bit more sorry for myself and be kinder to myself considering I didn’t have a lot of the support and resources like other people. I tried to become and adult and make it in this rat race society.
I feel the repercussions of the family I was born into every fucking day.
I don’t want to tell people how my mom would abuse me, hit me, try to pour oil all over my bed, kick me out all the time. How I had to sleep in my car and couch surf all the time. How she’d yell at me until the sun rose the next day and I’d be tired as hell at school the next day. How even in college, I’d get random calls to go pick up my sister because my mom was gonna kick her out again.
How I never felt like I had a safe place I could stay permanently.
How she’d shake my body and always call me fat when I was only 120 lbs. I was very curvy and voluptuous and she shamed me. I realize now she was insecure and likely envious of my huge boobs.
I to this day hide my body and never feel pretty.
I don’t want to tell people about how my dad cheated on my mom and left us. How I felt so abandoned and neglected.
Those feelings still live in my heart everyday.
He was around in the area but hardly ever made the effort to come pick us up or see us. Not even pick up our calls. And when we did end up at his house, he was always busy with his new family or doing things for other people.
He wasn’t really as abusive as my mom, but he was extremely neglectful and dismissive. To this day he is not someone I am comfortable sharing my vulnerabilities to.
I know he’ll just brush me off and hurt me more. When I was suicidal he told me I wasn’t a filial wife so I would die and my abusive ex would get this amazing replacement.
When his sisters husbands were beating them up, he told them to “be more tolerant and patient” and go back to their husbands.
Both my parents have called me ugly and shut down every single one of hobbies and passions. They never supported me in any of that. I was forced to stay home and take care of my sisters, especially once my dad left.
In truth, I really despise them both. I don’t like their character. If they weren’t my parents, they are two adults I’d want nothing to do with.
Neither of them should have been parents. They should’ve just never had kids.
I don’t have a relationship with either of them. They feel more like a weird and negative aunt and uncle who are fucking miserable and don’t work on their mental health issues at all.
They refuse to help us out financially. They complain about us being burdens to them. They put us in financially difficult situations, especially my selfish ass inconsiderate mother.
I hate to say it, but in the fashion of Anakin Skywalker, I kind of have to say “I HATE THEM”
Like they give me major “ick”. Just get away from me and leave me alone.
Church was pretty traumatic. The idea that families can be together forever with God sucked cuz mine was already broken up. It didn’t apply to me. God seemed like a narcissistic asshole.
People were pretentious. And I fell in love with someone who didn’t go to church so they told me when we died we’d never see each other again.
It was all stupid. I’m happier now that I don’t go anymore and feed into their BS.
One of the church members also attempted to molest me as a child.
I raised my sisters and now as an adult don’t want kids.
I don’t want the burden of family. I don’t want the burden of a child.
I want all the money and free time in the world to pursue my hobbies and be free of people.
I’m tired of people. Exhausted. Drained. At most I’ll tolerate a loving partner and a pet and that’s it.
I trauma dumped here. I don’t like to unload this on people. They either don’t know what to say or immediately invalidate me and say it wasn’t even that bad.
But personally, I think I can start feeling a bit more sorry for myself and unapologetic about the “selfish” choices I make that are in my own benefit.
I don’t use other people or take advantage of them. I work hard to build what I have. Forgive me if I won’t share it or give it all away to others.
I already have so little…

WARNING LONG READ
TLDR: Spiritual warfare on steriods
I genuinely need advice here from real spiritual Christians. Not carnal Christians that just say "derp see a mental health professional".
I've been tormented by a demonic attachment for ages now and I'm really tired. I saw a mental health professional and I'm diagnosed "schizophrenic" and major depression disorder but i know its a demon tormenting me and its very strong and stubborn.
I frequently get nightmares and sex in my dreams, eating in my dreams, dreams of my family making fun of me, but they have black eyes, being chased, seeing rats, snakes watching me in my dreams and much more, last night i had a dream of my family bullying me over a hunch i have the other night i had a dream where Jesus came in my dreams and i lied to his face as i struggle with lying due to a personality disorder BPD. My bed shakes every night and i literally feel it touch me and enter my body which comes in a form of muscle spasms, it manifested in church and i literally started laughing at the pastor for absolutely no reason and i felt my eyebrows start to forcefully go downwards at him during a preaching. My heart started racing. I also literally started convulsing one night during bible verses being read to me as i find peace for it when i sleep. But my peace has been taken away. During prayer one night i started laughing demonically.
Im scared to sleep every day due to these attacks and it has progressed to even worse where im being touched all over my body. It touches me primarly near my genitals and butt but it also pokes my face and i can literally feel it poke me like a finger when someone pokes you its cold and itches and i know for a fact that its real cause it only happens in my room.
I started blessing my room as the attacks primarily happen in my room aka my place of solitude, silence and peace. But ive since lost my peace and im always in a state of sleep deprivation. I work security where i regularly have 12 hour shifts and its causing me great pain and caused me to become addicted to energy drinks to stay awake. I also get nasty intrusive blasphemous thoughts on the regular, random words coming into my mind like "satan" or it twists worship songs to sing about satan.
Ive gotten to the point im about to quit my job and give up even tho im 60k deep in debt and im forced to pay my bills or i may get sued and my wages garnished and my car and other stuff repo'd
My luck has also decreased, alot of bad things have been happening and my energy has been drained like something is sucking the life force out of me daily.
ive reached out to pastors primarly David Diga Hernandez on youtube who is very anointed and has a deep connection to God and his sermons prove it and his prayers, hes also a deliverance minister like pastor vlad. David prayed for me recently. I've stopped going to church afraid of another manifestation. Im completely alone and isolated from other believers.
I've rebuked this thing in the name of Jesus Christ many times and quoted luke 10:19. And it still refuses to leave. So clearly i have no authority over this thing. Like God is allowing it to happen, God has been silent ever since but i still feel the holy spirit when i talk to the lord but its nothing but silence and empty prayers.
I believe this to be a sex demon or spirit spouse which is biblical opened by my former addiction to masturbation, lust and pornography, fornication and soul ties which ive quit and renounced. But ever since then ive been attacked heavily and it all happened last year around june. Ive been dealing with this ever since. I also used to heavily talk to spirits with divination which this is very real. My mother is also a witch who i disowned sadly due to her demonic nature.
I do confess i struggle with drug addiction primarily nicotine which has complete hold over me and my life ive tried to quit but i end up digging through trashcans to find my vape which i threw away due to withdrawl torment.
Ive fasted, ive prayed very powerful deliverance prayers for Jesus to intervene but to no prevail. This thing attacks me even in the presence of the lord which i feel during bible verses.
So its obvious God is letting this happen and ultimately its destroying my faith in the lord as i feel completely abandoned. Ive never felt such awful spiritual warfare in my life, ive done all i can, prayed, and all that to no prevail.
Its leading me to want to off myself even though i dont want to at all and i still wont but my brain tells me its the only way to escape the pain of this torment but i fear hell and going to hell due to that but it feels like i am in hell completely thats how bad it is. So i feel trapped in this endless cycle of depression, demonic torment, intrusive thoughts, addiction, lack of peace, nightmares ever night and much more. These attacks started happening right when my ex left me for 6 months and i gave my heart to jesus christ our lord.
Maybe i blasphemied the holy spirit on accident and God completely cut his connection to me cause thats what it feels like.
No matter what deliverance ive seeked has no prevail it has not helped, neither has prayer or getting into Gods word, nor exercising my authority.
This has to be some sort of Job situation cause it certainly feels like it or evil spirits sent by God to test and discipline me for living in sin due to addiction and struggling with lust.
Or this could be a season of spiritual warfare and God is testing my faith to see how strong i am in him and this will soon pass but its been around seemingly over a year and it has not stopped and wont leave and im tired and weary and i cannot stand it anymore
1 Samuel 16:14
Ive reached the end of my rope honestly, and will leave the faith very soon.
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I KNOW FOR A FACT THIS IS NOT MENTAL ILLNESS BUT EVIL SPIRITS AND DEMONS. SO DONT TELL ME SEEK HELP CAUSE IVE ALREADY BEEN IN TREATMENT FOR 15 YEARS. Doped up the HIGHEST dosage of medications and been through therapy multiple times, and locked in a institution for attempted suicide.
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i need help asap. Cause they wont even go away in the name of Jesus. Please dont delete this mods cause this is a serious matter to me.
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Edit: i left out one thing so ill edit it in... but ive had things fall off my war drobes, items moved around and paranormal activity like knocking on my walls and regularly waking up at 3 am to the feeling of being watched. Bedsheets pulled off me forcefully, and i was also punched in the stomach physically during deliverance prayers which made me cry due to the pain, i also had scratch marks on my back which i can prove with pictures...
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imgur of my picture of scratch marks due to demonic attack.
https://imgur.com/Ya48f1O

I (27F) have been friends with my best friend (we will call her Lisa) since high school. To give you some context, we became friends after we discovered the guy we were dating was playing both of us. We kicked him to the curb and became friends. In retrospect, I can see how our friendship was a lot more like a trauma bond than anything, because that relationship we were in with that man was tumultuous, abusive, and very emotionally/mentally draining. But it wasn’t just the unique experience that we could relate to each other on, we were also so much alike. To this day, she is the only person that could complete my sentences. We literally think the same thoughts, say the exact same things out loud at the same time. I’ve never felt closer or more comfortable around any other friend than Lisa. We often joked that we were soulmates brought together by our ex.
Fast forward. I got another boyfriend (we can call him Kane). We all live in a small town, so everyone knows literally everyone from high school. One day Kane told me he was going on a trip to NY to visit family, which I thought nothing of because he’d gone on a family trip earlier in our relationship. Well, it turns out that was his way of sneaking out of our relationship. He kissed me goodbye, said he’d be back “on Monday”, but never came back.
I found out that he’d actually left me for another girl (we will call her Jess) by seeing a photo of them together on social media. I tried confronting him to which he just yelled at me and completely flipped a switch on me, as if we weren’t just fine the week prior. I tried to (politely) reach out to Jess for answers, to which she replied “all you need to know is that he is in NY with me and he isn’t coming back”. With this event, I lost all of our mutual friends which I guess we’re more his friends than anything. And all the people I used to hang out with started gravitating towards Jess because eventually, they both came back from NY to live here.
The shock of all of this hurt me deeply and sent me into a spiraling depression that lasted for 3 years. I lost my job because I had no strength to work, and then of course that led to me losing my car, and then my apartment. I ended up couch surfing and staying wherever I could in that time.
Now I’m certainly not saying my life going downhill was my exes fault or his new girlfriends. But it was the straw that broke the camels back. I think my ex abandoning me and then making me feel like I was crazy really flipped a switch in my brain and triggered some deep insecurities.
Fast forward again, me and Lisa became super close during this time, where we were only friends from a distance before all of this. We had so much fun. In fact the entire year of 2019, although horrible for my life stability, was beyond fun with Lisa. I would say we had the most fun that we ever had EVERRRRR during that time. I truly think that era of my life saved me in many ways even though it was hard.
So Kane and I started dating 2016. He left in 2018. I found out in 2020 that Lisa and Kane had sex at some point years back, and I was finally finding out. This was an obvious blow to me considering this was my best friend in the world, and my ex had already done enough to hurt me. This was just too much for me.
They both had conflicting stories pertaining to WHEN this happened. Lisa stated that it happened sometime before I started dating Kane. Kane says this happened in the middle of our relationship while we were on a break. (Which we were at one point, for like 2 months)
I still don’t know the exact truth.
Time passed, I distanced myself, and Lisa was always apologetic and understanding of what I needed from that point on.
My life got better. I’m now very stable, in a loving relationship with someone new, have a good job, and just overall in a much better place in life. I even became closer friends with Lisa again, and judge me…. But I missed my friend deeply despite everything.
Fast forward to present day. I’m noticing that Lisa is hanging around Jess a lot. She also supports Kanes events (this is an artsy community with many open mic nights, networking events, and parties). She doesn’t tell me when she goes, but I’ll see pictures online and see her in the background, or hear her voice in videos.
Her new boyfriend who she is extremely happy with just so happens to be good friends with them, so it’s looking like her life would be much easier without having to dodge them to appease me, and I certainly wouldn’t force anyone to avoid places or people just for the sake of my happiness. But I’m still hurt by this.
This past weekend I invited her to a get together at my house, but she said she couldn’t come because her boyfriend made surprise plans for her. I looked at a mutual friends IG story and saw Lisa sitting on a couch at another get together. And wouldn’t you know it- Jess was standing right next to her. I can’t help but feel really bitter and jaded about this. I’ve thought about saying something, but just not sure what to say or do. The reality is that this is a complex and nuanced situation, but I’m not sure if I am willing to feel these emotions every time I see that she is hanging around these people on social media.
On the other hand, if I cut Lisa off, I would be cutting off my only close friend in the world.
Advice welcome.
TLDR: My best friend of almost a decade is hanging out with my ex who hurt me deeply and the girl he left me for.

14th June 2024, Day 32
0511
Darwen, GBQZ West Sector
Three vehicles made their way to the junction leading onto the M65. Getting there is now easy as the Mastiff simply pushes over any obstacles that were in its way. Those on the bus could occasionally see cars going airborne as the vehicle pushed them up the wedge and to the side.
"Turn right here." Casper's voice filled the radio as he led the convoy of three vehicles into Earcroft Way. Ahead of them was the M65, and they could see scores of abandoned vehicles clogging the road leading up to the on-ramp.
“Clear a path for us, Casper.” Taylor replied over the radio.
“Roger that.” Stepping on the gas, the Mastiff gained speed as it made its way towards the traffic jam. Casper aimed for the middle of the jam, where the wedge in front of his truck would have the most advantage. "Stay close, boys." As soon as he made contact, he parted the line of vehicles like Moses parting the Red Sea as they were effortlessly tossed aside to make way for the vehicles behind him.
“Woah, look at him go at that.” Said one of the passengers. As they made their way forward, they reached the ramp leading straight to the motorway.
"Take that ramp." Sheffield said as she looked at the map.
"Got it." Casper replied as he reached for the radio. "Hey guys, up this ramp." As they drove up the ramp, they noticed that it was devoid of vehicles, even more surprising when they drove up the motorway to find that it wasn't as blocked as they thought. Granted, there were still some vehicles there, but there was plenty of room for them to manoeuvre around.
"And I thought the motorway was going to be jammed." Sheffield muttered.
"Hey, relax, girl. At least our journey will be smoother this way." Said Darcy, who was also in the truck with them. It seemed there hadn't been any problems. They continued along the motorway through the unspoilt British countryside, which gave them a sense of peace and tranquillity, as everyone seemed untouched by the chaos the outbreak had caused. Occasionally they saw signs of fighting, such as craters from artillery or aerial bombardments, but they didn't give it much thought. As they approached Brimmicroft Interchange, they encountered traffic again. Again, the lead vehicle simply ploughed through. But then they ran into a problem.
"Oh damn, this one's jammed for sure." Casper shouted as he brought the truck to a halt. Everyone inside could see why, with a long stretch of abandoned vehicles clogging the motorway ahead of them. Technically, they could drive through them, but Casper was afraid it would put too much strain on the wedge, especially when there were heavy vehicles like buses and lorries that even his modified Mastiff couldn't move. "All those cars go on for miles!"
"Hey, what's the holdup?" Owen shouted over the radio as he was in the Husky, the last vehicle in the convoy, and as such couldn't see what was ahead of them beyond the bus.
“Uh, we got a bit of a jam ahead of us.”
"Oh, OK." By now they have worked out how they are going to get out of this jam. There are a couple of options on the table and they've looked at them.
"Maybe we can try to take it slow and stick to the E lane." One of them suggested.
"Er, no. I won't try my luck with that.
"So what, have you got any ideas?" While everyone was arguing, Edinburgh glanced at the road ahead, noticed that the eastbound lane was almost empty, and shouted.
"Guys, haven't you noticed that the opposite lane is empty?" Edinburgh pointed to the mostly empty eastbound lane, causing the others to look and see that she was right.
“Damn, she’s right; the whole lane was empty.”
"Yeah, but we need to remove those dividers first."
“Eh, just leave it to us. Edinburgh, with me.”
"Ah, OK." Edinburgh and Sheffield then got out of the truck and walked over to the divider, summoning their rigging as they went. Belfast noticed this from inside the bus and contacted them.
“Sheffy, Eddi, what are you two doing out there?”
"Nothing, just removing this divider so we can use the opposite lane as there's no traffic on that side."
"I see. Just hurry up." Meanwhile, Sheffield looked at the divider before grabbing the section where the dividers were bolted together and pulling it out with her ship's strength, ripping it open. Then she slowly pulled the partition aside.
“Edinburgh, I need your help here.”
_____
FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13850576/21/Outbreak
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30339519/chapters/116121961
Last Chapter: https://www.reddit.com/AzureLane/comments/100f4hf/outbreak_the_last_of_us/
1st Chapter: https://www.reddit.com/AzureLane/comments/mfokzn/outbreak_prologue/
_____
Oops, I accidentally added a barrel of plot thickener into this chapter. But there we have it. The missing maids managed to return to safety, the Royal Navy finally receives a new commander to lead them, CIA decided to play with an inferno, and Russia making big moves knowing nobody’s looking at them.
This story is not over yet. So hang on tight everyone. The next canon chapter will mark the beginning of Act II as Outbreak will dive further into politics. Don’t worry, shipgirl vs Infected is still the main agenda of this story so Act II will feature two big engagements as NATO and Azur Lane were tasked to get London ready for repopulation attempt.
Until then, enjoy.

Life, for most, was a series of ups and downs. You fail your test but then your mom makes your favorite dish for dinner. You lose the big game for your team, but then you make a major breakthrough in the spell you've been practicing for weeks. You drop your ice cream, but find some cash in your pocket you didn't remember leaving there.
The girl you've been fawning over for weeks tickles your tonsils with her tongue, but then you're cut in half and enslaved by your nation's mortal enemy.
Yeah, my life was different, there was no doubt about that at all. But the lowest lows made even the slightest highs feel so much higher. Something as simple as eating a hot meal was the height of life when you had been living on crackers, stale bread, and nearly century-old dried meat.
We failed to notice that everyone in the restaurant was staring at us as we wolfed down plate after plate. The juices; the flavors; the tenderness of the meat; the softness of the hot bread smothered in butter. I couldn't stop smiling as I ate.
"You gotta try this," Tovin said breathlessly between bites as he passed me a bowl containing what looked like some kind of wet, shredded, colorful salad. I swallowed the big bite of steak I had been chewing and quickly put a spoonful of the mystery dish in my mouth. It was heaven on earth.
"Holy smokes, what is this?" I asked.
"I think it's the coleslaw, give it back," he said, pulling the bowl right out of my hand. I turned and looked at the dumbfounded waiter standing next to our table, and smiled. "More coleslaw, please! And ribs, I'm outta ribs! And a refill on... what was this called?"
He stared wide-eyed at my plate and then shook his head as though clearing his mind. "Uhh, I believe you were having the peach lemonade, sir."
"That!" I pointed my fork at him before turning back to the assortment of delicacies splayed out before me. I wasn't sure if it was because I hadn't had a proper meal in weeks, or if it was just that the empire knew how to eat, but it was the best food I had ever tasted in my life.
"So good," Tovin said in such a way that I had to check and make sure he wasn't crying.
After eating all that we wanted and all that we could, the two of us just sat slouched in our chairs with bulging stomachs. I lifted my hand shakily toward the last rib on my plate, but let it fall to my side as I closed my eyes and accepted defeat. The will was there but the room in my stomach wasn't.
"My goodness, sirs," said the waiter. "You hunters sure can eat."
I looked up at him with a satisfied grin, "Hard work always makes a meal so much better. Know what I'm saying?"
"Can't argue with that," said the waiter as he folded his hands. "But... if I may, could I politely ask you to pay your bill? I mean no offense, but you and your friend have a..." he cleared his throat. "Musk about you."
I looked at Tovin and then at myself, and then at all the empty tables around us. We were still covered in the calraven's dried wing gunk. I had to have gone completely nose-blind to it. Now the faces everyone had been making at us made a lot more sense. I looked down to see that it had been flaking off of us and onto the restaurant floor.
"Oh man, I'm so sorry," I apologized.
"No!" said the man, holding his hands out. "It was an honor to serve the hunters keeping our cities safe, don't take me the wrong way. It would be our pleasure to serve you again, but it's about to be 5'o clock and our dinner rush will be starting soon."
I suddenly remembered something I had completely forgotten. I looked up at the man, "Excuse me, do you have a pencil?"
"Certainly," he answered, pulling one from his apron and setting it down on the checkered tablecloth. "Your bill will be 22 octims."
"That's so much," Tovin groaned, not bothering to lift his head or open his eyes. He wasn't wrong, but we had ordered almost everything on the menu. I wasn't completely certain I could walk correctly when it was time to leave. I pulled out the envelope and handed him 25 octims.
"Keep the change," I said, Tovin groaning quietly in tacit disapproval.
"Th-thank you!" said the waiter with a wide grin.
"In return, I'm keeping the pencil," I added, smiling back.
x - - x - - x - - ★ - - x - - x - - x
It didn't take long for us to find an inn. Bronzegirder was full of them, as it was apparently a booming industrial hub rife with people traveling on business. We decided to book one room with two separate bedrooms to save a bit of money. It came out to 9 octims a night, which when you factored in food, meant we only had a little over a week's worth of cash if we spent conservatively. I didn't know how long it was going to take me to find Atlas and Axle, but I couldn't see it happening that soon. We would likely have to hunt again; that or find a steady job that paid the bills.
It was a humble inn compared to some of the others we had seen. I really wanted to stay in one of the nicer ones, but Tovin wasn't having it. He said the less we had to go out and make money, the better, and I couldn't come up with a good enough argument to push back. While Tovin took a shower, I took an eraser to everything Fena had written to me in the notebook. I left a little bit of her message so as to avoid suspicion, and decided I'd write back later tonight before bed.
After his shower, he realized that he only had dirty clothes to change into and we were reminded that we needed to go shopping. I rinsed off and the two of us made our way back down to the lobby and out into town. It had gotten considerably darker since we had checked in, and the chill winds blew against my cold hair, sending shivers down my spine. We pulled our hoods up and hit the market.
The first shop we landed at was a big success. We bought a warm hat for Tovin's head, which was only just now growing back a thin layer of hair. We found some sheepskin flight jackets with wool collars that rode high against the back of our necks. Tovin begrudgingly accepted them as the best option both for warmth and for hiding our slave tattoos, but for me, I also thought they looked really, really cool.
We bought some leather gloves that matched the jackets, along with new undergarments and sleep attire. We bagged some Diesillian snacks and drinks, as well as a refill of cigarettes for Tovin before heading back to the room. We were both exhausted, and I was more excited about a bed than I ever had been. Back in the room, we sat on the floor and tried the different candies and snacks as we discussed our next plan of action.
"Let's stay here for a little while," Tovin advised, sitting under the open window with his cigarette in hand. "This place is huge. The odds of them finding us here quickly are slim."
"I agree," I said as I popped one of the candies in my mouth. "I'm not going to say I like it here, but it sure beats being on the run."
"We're still on the run," he warned. "Don't misunderstand that. We should also probably pick new aliases. DuPonte has the wrong ones, but Gilliam is pretty similar to William."
"Yeah, but we're not on the run, run. Y'know, being chased through the night, sleeping in abandoned shacks, and stowing away in train cars. I know they're still looking for us, but how are they ever gonna catch us now?"
He folded his arms and dropped his eyes. Smoke billowed from his mouth as he sat in quiet contemplation. "It would be a mistake to underestimate our enemy," he said finally. "We need to start going by new names. I'm Wallace, and you're Geoffrey, got that?"
"I don't want to be Geoffrey, you be Geoffrey," I said playfully as I passed him a bag of candies. "Here, try these. They're called jelly beans, they're pretty good."
He dug his hand into the bag, fished one out, and popped it into his mouth. "Fine," he said. "You can be Wallace then, and I'll be Geoffrey. You need to help me remember that, you understand?"
"Yeah, I got it," I assured him.
"Gill."
"I said I heard you, Jeez," I said dismissively as I picked up the dark beverage I had been eyeing. It was labeled Root Beer and it generated a golden fizz at the top when disturbed. I couldn't wait to taste it. Tovin reached over and gently lowered my hand. I looked up to find him staring at me intensely.
"Gill," he repeated. "Stop. Just stop it, alright? I know what you're doing. I might be slipping, but I'm not dumb, deaf, and blind just yet. While I appreciate the act, or at least where it's coming from, I know you're just as scared as I am. I'm not a child; and while I may not be able to preserve what remains of my dignity for very much longer, I would ask for your respect until that time comes."
I had somehow underestimated the smartest man I had ever known– again. I didn't know the extent of his condition. Based on our interactions, I figured that he had no memory of the times when he regressed. I assumed that he didn't fully understand how bad his lapses had gotten, but it seemed he did. Worse yet, I knew how he felt about sympathy. The way I was acting had to have felt like the biggest insult to him, and even so, he wasn't reacting with anger.
He just wanted to be heard.
"Earlier today in the woods," he said, lifting his arm and tapping his cigarette against the window sill. "I can't remember the details. I don't know how you did that monster in, how I ended up unconscious, or anything about how we got back to the city. But I do remember how I felt."
He traced the floorboards with his eyes and placed his arms on his knees as he looked for the words. "... I felt useless; helpless like a terrified child. At one point, I felt like I didn't deserve to be alive." He looked up at me. "It was like I was swimming in a dream; like I was watching my own actions from over my shoulder. I came back to consciousness for a brief moment and contemplated shoving that rifle in my mouth."
"Tovin–"
"Shut up," he waved at me dismissively, drawing tendrils of smoke in the air with the end of his cigarette. "I don't need your pep talk," he huffed. "I'm past it." He rested his head against the wall behind him. "I just want you to know that this whole thing is getting harder for me. It's like there are two people fighting for control of the wheel, and when I'm not steering, I'm in a sleeplike state. My thoughts play out in front of me like I'm having some kind of fever dream. They smear and melt like watercolor giving me brief glimpses of reality through a window I can't reach or jump through."
I stared at him with concern. We shared a brief moment of eye contact before he closed his eyes and exhaled smoke. "It's not looking good for me, Gill. I just wanted you to know before I went to bed," he said, getting to his feet. "That if I go to sleep tonight for the last time..."
"Hang on," I interrupted. "There's something you should know. I reached out to that friend of mine back home. He's already working on a way to fix you."
His face brightened. "Y-yeah?" he smiled. "Gill, why didn't you say anything?"
I picked up the bottle and used the opener we had purchased with it to pry the lid off. "There was never a good time," I shrugged. "It's been a long, long day."
"Well, what else did he say?" he asked, taking a step forward.
"... Just, y'know," I trailed off. "Hang in there."
He sucked his lips in and looked down at the floor. He knew I was holding back. I was more worried about putting him through information overload than anything else. There was a lot he didn't know; too much, in fact.
"Tovin, just trust me. You'll know everything soon," I assured him. "All of it. As soon as you get your memories back."
"You really think your friend is that incredible?" he asked without looking up.
I smiled knowingly. "I do."
I took a swig of the beverage and spat it back out all of my legs. It almost splashed his legs and he quickly scrambled away. He looked at me with apparent disgust.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he yelled.
"It's like medicine," I grimaced. "I don't think this is even a drink!"
x - - x - - x - - ☾ - - x - - x - - x
That night, as Tovin slept, I wrote down the events of the day. As I jotted it all down, I began having new revelations. Tovin seemed to be at his best after resting. In the morning when we got off the train, he seemed alright. However, as the day drew on, he became less and less like himself. I should have known something was up the moment he wandered off without me. Then he was acting like a literal child up to our confrontation with the calraven. He had even mistakenly called me dad, perhaps reliving a buried memory of a hunt with his father.
But when his rifle exploded and he lost consciousness, he was back to himself when he woke up. He seemed to hold strong through dinner up until he went to bed. I wondered what it was about sleeping that restored at least a portion of his working mind.
Then there was the stranger, referred to only once as "Deac." There was no mistaking the magic that glowed in his body, but what was that other energy? I couldn't see it, but for the fact that it danced with and often overtook his magic essence. There were two energies tangled up together inside of him, and they seemed to be at odds with one another. And then there was the Diesel Devil sitting at the back of the cave.
The two of them definitely knew one another on a familiar level. They had been sent together to investigate Eluviel, but why, and from where? She definitely didn't seem happy to see them, but could that have been because she felt I was threatened by them? A splinter-sprite, he called her. A piece of her consciousness that she had shed just before she was subdued.
I wondered why she'd chosen me. Was it because I could see her while others couldn't? Or maybe I was just secretly really, really awesome, like a main character in a novel. I sat under the electric light and smiled at the idea of being someone worthy of tales. Someone like Tovin or Atlas with a bright destiny. But was revenge really such a noble pursuit? The yearning to return home and lift some heads off of shoulders didn't seem like any sort of heroic journey. After I penned the events of the day as best as I could, I got to work answering everyone individually.
Tovin. Be nice to Gill. He's doing his best with what he's got. Instead of being pissed at him, be pissed at the headmasters in question for what they've done to him. I hope everything I wrote above helps in some way, but I'm still running around out here with a lot of questions. Any luck with the spell for your counterpart? As you;ve read, he's getting worse. I need that miracle cure sooner than later. Thanks for your help.
I could already hear him in my head. "I'm working as fast I can you ingrate," or something like that. I laughed under my breath as I thought about what a dick he was. It was pressure, pride, and maintaining appearances that warped his personality so much. Out here in the Diesel as a nobody with nothing to prove, he was so much more agreeable. His inner-Tovin showed through now and again, but I wondered what would happen if he suddenly got all his memories back. Would he be a more chilled-out version of his ENU counterpart, or would he be even more high-strung?
Gill. I hope you read the annotation I scribbled in the margins about not reading the whole journal entry. I forgot you had asked me not to talk about the Galgalim before I had already written it all down. If you skipped right to this response as I hoped, then don't go back and read any of that. There were major revelations about what she is and why she's here.
I knew he wouldn't be able to resist after reading that. I needed his curiosity to overpower his fear. It was possible, I figured, that I could undo some of the damage Vega had done. I just needed to remind Gill of who he was.
I know it's weird putting your trust in me, but if there's anyone you can trust, it's yourself. I'm 99% sure Tovin would back me up on that, haha. And yeah, I remember Fena boasting about the importance of keeping a diary. We love that girl, but we hate to write, am I write?
I hoped he would find my pun funny. He was me, so he would at least smile at it, I was sure.
Even now my hand is aching something fierce, I want to go to bed more than anything. You know how long its been since I've slept in a bed? This mattress feels like heaven under me right now, you got no idea. And is Tovin still threatening to kill you? I thought we had gotten a little closer than that. I can't believe Axle was expelled. You're right, that means you're probably next. Keep your head down, man. Thanks for cooperating with me. If you had changed the summoning signature for the tome, I would have died today... and yesterday too, actually. I'm getting actual combat experience out here. It's wild knowing you can die at any moment. My hand is kinda cramping and I still have to write Fena back so I'll end it here. Thanks again for hearing me out and staying open-minded about this whole thing.
I set the pencil down and massaged the muscle between my thumb and forefinger. I had a lot to tell. But I wasn't about to roll over and drift off without writing to Fena. I picked the pencil up and readjusted myself before putting my words down.
I'm sorry I asked Gill not to tell you, but something deep down inside of me told me he would do it anyway. I just wanted to touch base with him first before I reached out to the rest of you. And technically, I was the one who showed you the message in the tome, so I didn't actually ever keep a secret from you.
I doodled a little smiley face with his tongue sticking out and then quickly erased it only to find that I couldn't fully get it off the page. There was a big smudge there that made it evident that I'd written and then erased something. I let out a frustrated sigh and drew it again, but somehow worse.
That's a solid theory on Tovin there. Same for Atlas. That could end up coming back to bite Vega in the ass. I promise I'll be safe, but do me a favor and help Tovin with whatever it is he needs. He's working on that spell to untether blocked memories from the mind, and the Tovin with me is getting worse by the day it seems. I don't want to see him get caught and sent back to the camp. He won't cooperate with them and they'll definitely kill him.
Thanks for everything, hun. I miss you more than you could ever know. Promise me you'll stay safe too. I know Vega is trying to find a way to get to you. If he got to Tovin... look just take every precaution you can. I love you. Goodnight.
I closed the book and set it down on my bedside table. I pulled the chain on the light, snuffing it out, then turned over and sank my head into the pillow. It wasn't that late yet– I could hear the hum of Diesel vehicles and even the chatter of the populace outside. I pulled the blankets over myself and closed my eyes. I let the warmth of the bed cradle me as I counted my many blessings, and thanked Hahnahkordia that I had somewhere warm and dry to lay my head.
The room was dimly lit when I opened my eyes again. It was just bright enough that I could read the clock on the wall. It was about 7am. It felt like I had blinked. I thought about getting up, but the blankets were so warm, and the room was cold– I had left the window open all night by accident. What reason did I have to get out of bed anyways? I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep again and repeated this several times until the clock read noon and I started to get hungry.
I rolled out of bed and quickly closed the window. I hurried into the hot embrace of my morning shower and got dressed before knocking on Tovin's door. "Hey, you up? I was thinking of breakfast."
There was no answer. I carefully opened his door to find his bed empty and neatly made. I entered the room fully to find that his backpack was also missing. I figured he had to have gotten hungry first and left without me. That theory fell on its face when I ventured back to my room and found a note placed on the side table.
You can sleep all day if you want. I'm going down to the gun range at the hunters' office. I won't be shown up by you again.
I set the note down and began to worry. I didn't like the idea of him going out by himself. What if he were to suddenly backslide mentally while out in Diesel territory alone? I could see a scenario where he'd forget his alias or that he has an incriminating mark on the back of his neck. I got dressed in a hurry and grabbed my backpack before heading out the door. I hurried down the steps and out into the cold wet streets of Bronzegirder.
I made my way north of the crowded city streets and found Alloy street. The bitter winds blew against me as I made my way up the empty road toward the hunters' office. I was starting to regret not buying a warm hat for myself when I bought one for Tovin. I skipped every second step on my way up to the front door and made my way past the reception desk and into the firing range. I heaved a sigh of relief when I found Tovin shooting at targets downrange.
I walked up next to him as he turned his rifle over and grabbed a handful of ammunition from the box sitting on the counter. "Busy morning, Geoffrey?"
"Did you just wake up?" he asked as he began feeding bullets into the tube.
"I figured I didn't have anywhere to be," I shrugged. "I assumed you didn't either. I thought the plan was to get our bonus and ditch this place."
"Yeah, well, I kind of like shooting," he admitted. "Also, we're out of money."
I felt my knees turn to jelly underneath me. "What?" I yelled. "How?"
"Turns out these guns are expensive," he said as he pulled the hammer back and lifted the rifle to his shoulder. "You left ours out in the woods. They charged us for them."
I stammered for entirely too long before wiping both hands over my face and collecting myself. "... How much we got left?"
"We owe," he answered, firing his gun. "They charged us for the uniforms, and then a fee to clean the gunk off of them. Also, I bought us a pair of rain ponchos, they're cheaper here." He motioned to a couple of folded-up ponchos hanging over the wooden divider.
I stammered for a little longer. This was becoming more expensive than it was worth. We would have to hunt another monster today. I was hoping to never have to hoof it out there again, and it was even colder today than it was yesterday.
"Calm down," he said, not taking his eyes off the target. "Get your poncho on. I've got a plan."
"A plan?" I asked.
x - - x - - x - - ★ - - x - - x - - x
"The circus?" I said with a hint of anger in my voice as we stood in front of the many tents and attractions. They had set up east of town on the perimeter of the city. Families wandered the fairgrounds. Vendors had set up games and stands with delicious food we couldn't pay for, and I had just remembered I hadn't eaten breakfast.
"I came this way first when I smelled the food," Tovin said, taking a few steps in front of me and turning around. "Then I explored a little bit. And wouldn't you know it– I found an attraction that was offering a cash prize. It just wasn't open yet."
I sighed and hung my head. "You just wanted to come to the carnival," I grumbled.
"100 octims," he said flatly.
I looked up at him and he smiled faintly. "Thought that would get your attention." He reached into his pocket and produced a single red ticket. "This will get us one round."
"One round?" I asked, taking the ticket and inspecting it. It read, "Single Admission ~ 1 Minute."
"There's a stage toward the back with a guy in a cape that you can challenge in hand-to-hand combat," he said, beckoning me to follow as he turned and started into the fair. I hurried after him as he explained. "Here's the kicker though. You don't have to beat him. All you've got to do is hit him."
"Just hit him?" I asked.
"That's what they said. He's supposed to be some kind of master. You strike him just once and we're set for the next several days, and that's after settling our debt."
This plan was a little better than I had given him credit for. Here I had thought he'd gone bananas again, but this could really work.
"You think I can do it?" I asked. "It can't be easy if they're throwing around a hundred octims."
"Here's what I'm thinking," he said, lowering his voice and slowing down to walk next to me. "You use a little bit of that magic– the kind you isolate in your feet to move quickly."
"Are you nuts?" I cast him an incredulous glance. "Did you forget we'd be on stage in Diesel territory?"
"Just use it once quickly to make your swing a little faster," he reasoned. "It's been drizzling all morning. The stage is wet already. If you're quick about it, it won't stand out."
"I don't know," I shook my head. "It's not the worst plan, but it's so risky."
"Riskier than hunting monsters?" he asked.
That was a fair point. Still, the idea of casting in front of everyone made me uneasy. It wasn't like Jetstream was a super common spell, though. Furthermore, the odds were slim that anyone in the crowd had ever even witnessed magic before. The more I thought about it, the more I started to think we could actually pull this off.
"This is the place," said Tovin as we approached a crowd. There was a wooden sign in front that read, The Slippery Salamander! One hit gets you 100 octims! The two of us pushed through the crowd until we came to the stage where a mustached man was swinging like crazy at the aptly named Salamander. He bobbed and weaved effortlessly around every attempted strike until a man in a red and white striped outfit hurried out onto the stage and blew a whistle.
"Time's up!" he called out.
The crowd cheered and applauded as the Salamander turned and took a bow. The world fell out from underneath me. I couldn't believe my eyes.
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/My-Last-Hope

As someone who loves playing historical periods, I really hope we can disable careers and clothing on a world wide basis for our characters. And if we can establish that certain clothes, homes, and objects are luxury items so that a character just starting out isn't our driving a $100,000 car or moving into a mansion with story progression, that would be nice too.

*Items are CiB unless stated otherwise
Nintendo:

Switch games	DS/3DS
LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga Deluxe Edition (Missing game, DLC code unused. Included Blue Milk Luke minifig)	Shin Megami Tensei IV (Limited Edition) CiB (Outer Box sleeve is damaged)
Monster Hunter Rise Collectors Edition (Game and Amiibo opened)	Professor Layton vs Ace Attorney CiB
Pokemon Sword w/ Expansion Pass (loose)	Pokemon Alpha Sapphie (Nib, cut on seal)
Pokemon Violet (Digital)	Pokemon Ultra Moon (Nib, cut on seal)
Hyrule Warriors Definitive Edition	Pokemon HeartGold (Loose, authentic)
Yurukill	Senran Kagura: Deep Crimson Double D Edition (Nib)
Xenoblade Chronicles 2: Torna 2 w/ dlc code	Pokemon Ultra Sun (CiB)
-	Tekken 3D Prime CiB
No More Heroes 3	Style Savvy Fashion Forward CiB
Samurai Jack Battle Through Time (LRG release)	Pac-man & Galaga Dimensions CiB
Disgaea 5	Tales of Abyss
13 Sentinel: Aegis Rim	Warioware Gold (NiB, cut in seal tho)
Tony Hawk Pro Skater 1+2	Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box
Wonder Boy: The Dragon Trap	Persona Q themed carry case for 3DS systems (Came with the Limited Edition)
Minecraft Story Mode: The Complete Adventure	Dragon Ball Fusions
Disgaea 1 complete	Hyrule Warriors Legends
Lost Child	New Super Mario Bros 2
Jump Force Deluxe	Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story (Original DS version, No manual)
Monster Hunter Generations (Sealed)	Kingdom Hearts Re:Coded
Little Nightmares 2	Kingdom Hearts 358/2
Balan Wonderworld	Street Fighter IV 3D (Loose)
Katamari Damacy Reroll
Sonic Mania Plus (w/ Outer Box and Art Book)
Toki Retrocollectors Edition	Wii/Wii U
Ultra Street Fighter 2: The Final Challengers	Xenoblade Chronicle X
Binding of Isaac (First print)	New Super Mario bros U + Luigi U
Atari Flashback collection	Mario Tennis Ultra Smash
Scott Pilgrim vs the World (Best Buy version, Sealed)	Minecraft
	Star Fox Zero w/ Star Fox Guard
	LEGO: Jurassic Park, The Force Awakens, and City Undercover
	Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze
SNES	Hyrule Warriors
Super Mario All Stars (CiB)	Breath of the Wild
Super Mario All Stars (Loose)	Super Smash Bros Wii U
	Wii Party
N64 (All Loose)	A bunch of Wii motes (Most White, a few Black)
Super Mario 64
Excitebike 64
Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire	Amiibo
Cruisin USA	Gold Mega Man (Sealed)
Jet Force Gemini	Luigi (Mario Series) (OOB, but I have the original Box)
	Pit (Smash) (OOB)
	Fire Emblem Tiki (NiB)
GBA
Super Mario Advance (Loose)
Pink GBA SP (AGS 101)
Gameboy Camera (Red)
Gamecube
Super Mario Sunshine (Black Label)
Super Smash Bros Melee (Players Choice, no manual)
Spartan Total Warrior (Missing Manual)
Spongebob: Battle for Bikini Bottom (Loose)
Sega Soccer Slam (Loose)
Action Replay MAX (Disc only)
Crash Nitro Racing

​
Microsoft:

Xbox One	Xbox 360
Sea of Thieves (Sealed)	-
Assasins Ceed Odyssey (Gold/Steelbook Edition)	Injustice
Kingdom Hearts 3	Oblivion
-	Fallout 3
Resident Evil 2 (Disc Only)	Assassins Creed 3
Stardew Valley	Battlefield 3
Minecraft	Call of Duty 2 and World at War
Witcher 3	Far Cry 3
Titanfall	Fable
Titanfall 2	Forza 2
Mortal Kombat X	Sega Dreamcast Collection
Gears of WaRare Replay	Red Dead Redemption
Overwatch	Perfect Dark Zero
Assassins Creed Unity	Hitman Blood Money
Killer Instinct	Batman Arkham Origins
Battlefield 1	Star Wars The Force Unleashed 2
Skyrim Special Edition	Fifa Streets 3
Forza 5 limited edition	Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga!
Shenmue 1-2	The Witcher 2: Enhanced Edition
Alien Isolation	Assassins Creed Brotherhood
Diablo 3 Eternal Collection	Assassins Creed
Crash Bandicoot N Sane trilogy	Splinter Cell Conviction
Crash Team Racing Nitro Refuel	Turok
Quantum Break	Terraria
Limited Edition Gears of War 4 controller (Red)	Spider-man: shattered dimensions
Limited Edition Gears of War 4 controller (Grey)	Driver San Francisco
	Dead Space 2
OG Xbox	Call of Duty Modern Warfare
Destroy all Humans 2	Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2
Legacy of Kain Defiance	Assassins Creed 3
Prince of Persia: Sands of Time	Assassins Creed IV Black Flag
Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones	Crackdown
Samurai Warriors	Mortal Kombat Komplete Edition
-	Darksiders
Spyro: A New Beginning	Zone of the Enders Collection
Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic	Call of Duty Black Ops 2
Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic 2	NCAA Football 12
Crash Twinsanity
King of Fighters Neowave	Xbox consoles/Accessories
Jade Empire	Xbox 360 Slim
Soul Calibur 2	Various Wireless Xbox 360 controllers
Morrowind	Various wired Xbox 360 controllers
Mercenaries	Xbox on controller (Gears of War Fennix edition)
007: Agents under fire	Black Xbox One Controller
007: Everything or Nothing	Xbox 360 Wifi Adapter
Slay the Spire (Digital)

​
Playstation

PS4	PS2
Yakuza Kiwami 2 (Steelbook)	Clock Tower 3
Lego Dimensions (Game & Case)	Silent Hill 2
Psychonauts (LRG variant)	-
Infamous Second Son (Limited Edition)	Star Wars Battlefront 2
God Wars	Crash BAndicoot: Wrath of Cortex
Walking Dead Complete Season 1 + 400 Days and Season 2	Dynasty Warriors 5 Extreme Legends
Trails of Cold Steel 3	Grand Theft Auto Vice City
Walking Dead: A New Frontier	Grand Theft Auto San Andreas
Playstation move controller	Gran Turismo 3
	Kingdom Hearts
PS1	Kingdom Hearts 2
Digimon World (Missing manual)	Kingdom Hearts Re:Chain of Memories
Gran Turismo	Madden 10
Star Wars Rebel Assault 2	Nickolodeon's Barnyard
Twisted Metal Small Brawl	Garfield: Lasagna World Tour
Grand Theft Auto 2	Atari Anthology
Star Wars Dark Force	NBA Streets Vol 2
MDK	Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3
Midway Arcade's Greatest Hits 2	Tony Hawk Pro Skater 4
Rainbow Six Lone Wolf	Black PS2 Slim
Micomaniacs Racing
Rayman Brain Games	PS3
Dance Dance Revolution Konamix	Ratchet and Clank: Crack in Time
Dance Dance Revolution	Rango
	Call of Duty Black Ops 2
PSP (All are loose unless stated otherwise)	NBA 2k18
Hammerin Hero (CiB)	Metal Gear Solid 4
The 3rd Birthday (CiB)	God of War Collection
Metal Gear Acid (CiB)	Alien vs Predator
GTA Vice City Stories (CiB)	Ultra Street Fighter IV
Legend of Heroes (CiB)
Legend of Heroes II (CiB)	PSP Movies (If anyone actually collects these)
Gran Turismo (CiB)	Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Def Jam fight for ny the takeover	Elf
Metal Gear Solid (Peace Walker) (CiB)	Jackass: The Movie
Star Wars Battlefront: Renegade Squadron	Wedding Crashers
Ridge Race (CiB)	Narnia
Namco Museum (CiB)
The Warriors
Spider-Man: Web of Shadows
GTA: Vice City Stories
Street Fighter Alpha 3 Max
Little Big Planet
Fifa 08
Sid Meier's Pirates
Naruto: Ultimate Ninja Heroes
NBA 06
Cars: Race-o-rama
Sims Pets
Daxter

​

Sega Genesis	Sega Dreamcast
Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (CiB)	WWF Royal Rumble
Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (CiB)	Dreamcast Generator vol. 2 (New)
Ghostbusters (CiB)	Virtua Tennis
Ghouls n Goblins (CiB)

​

PC Games (Non-Digital)
Panzer Dragoon (CiB)
Sonic's Schoolhouse (CiB)
Warcraft 2 (CiB: Original Big Box. Bonus: includes $5 off any Blizzard action figure!) (Note, coupon is two decades old, redeem at your own risk)
Riven (CiB; Big Box)

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Wants:
While I do enjoy playing on the Xbox one, I'm mostly looking for Nintendo stuff. But I'm open to whatever list you may have, but these are games I am interested in:
​

Nintendo Switch Wants	3/DS wants
Xenoblade Chronicles Definitive
AI The Somnium Files 2: Nirvana	Yokai Watch Blasters Red
Trail of Cold Steel 4	Shin Megami Devil Survivor 2 and Overclocked (3DS versions perferred)
Danganronpa Decadence	SMT Soul Hackers
Samurai Warrior 5	Dragon Quest IV and VI
Dynasty Warrior 9 Empires	Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks
Ace Attorney Trilogy	Kirby: Planet Robobot
Ori Collection	Persona Q2
Metroid Dread	Mario & Luigi Dream Team and Superstar Saga (3DS Remake)
Octopath Traveler	Metal Gear Solid 3D
NEO The World Ends With You	Ever Oasis
Neptunia Games	Project X Zone 1 and 2
Gunvolt Chronicles luminous avenger ix (low want)	Corpse Party
Koei Tecmo WarrioMusou games	Star Fox 64 3D
Various Limited Run Games (prefer opened/CiB but dont mind sealed)	Luigi's Mansion
Nintendo Switch Lite (Pokemon edition preferred)	Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon
Neptunia X Senran kagura	Rhythm Thief
Blue Reflection	Hatsune Miku
NiS Presents Vol 1-3
	Xbox Wants:
	Killer Instinct Definitive Edition
PSP Wants	Playstation Wants
Final Fantasy I/IV Remakes	Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (PS1)
Power Stone Collection	Fist of the North Star Lost Paradise
Persona 3 Portable	Berserk PS4
Persona 1 (Case and Manual)	Yakuza 0, Kiwami 1, 6 and 7
Metal Slugs	Danganronpa: Another Episode (PS4)
Collections/Compilations/Anthology Games	PS Vita system (Slim Only)
RPG Games	Ultimate Marvel vs Capcomc 3 (PS4 version only)
Manuals	Cases
Pokemon White 2	Pokemon White 2
Pokemon White	Pokemon White
Pokemon Heartgold	Pokemon HeartGold
Castlevania Order of Ecclesia	Castlevania Order of Ecclesia
Fire Emblem Radiant Dawn
Pokemon Yellow
Pokemon SilveCrystal

I am also open to looking at your list, as there's tons of stuff that interest me asides from what I have listed. However, I am not interested in digital items as I prefer to collect/own games physically if possible.