Kit Pic
Mint condition Pentax 645 selling with 2 lens & accessories. I have taken beautiful photos with this camera, deciding to go up a size in frame. I have owned this kit for a year. This kit includes the following:
-Pentax 645 body
-Pentax SMC-A 645 55mm F2.8
-Pentax SMC-A 645 150mm F3.5
-120 & 220 film back
-Camera lugs for strap
-2 different eye pieces
-Refconverter attachment for shooting from the waist
Selling a full set, no parting.
Lenses are both in mint condition, butter smooth focus and nothing wrong with the glass.
No LCD bleed on the screen.
Viewfinder has zero dust & clear.
Camera is fully operational, I take the batteries out when I am not using it. Will come with batteries.
If you would like to see more photos or videos please contact me.
Thank you for viewing!
$600 obo - offers welcome!

So, tried in other groups but best to try here
Looking for a 35 or 50/55mm prime lens which is auto and works on xt3
Whether it be fuji xf xc or third party
Budget around 500 but it’s not super important for this lens to be the most expensive as it’s just for a play about lens to experiment with things
It’s not specifically to shoot any specific thing or genre,
Only really after people’s experience with the glass or recommendations and or opinions for use in low light (but not super important) - mainly just want sharper images than the kit lens
Thank you very much

“I know you’re awake…Katherine…Kaaaaatheriiiine…”
“Shut up.” I had been awake for a little while, just staring at the wall.
“I knew it.”
“Can you not sleep?” I rolled over and looked at him as I asked the question.
James was in his rocking chair in the corner of our bedroom right next to the window. The moon outside was illuminating his face.
“I’m ok. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” I did my best to sit up. I was almost at my due date and I was enormous. During the pregnancy I wasn’t quite as sensitive to his little issues that I normally was.
James suffered from severe bouts of anxiety and he would spend lots of nights just rocking in his chair, trying not to worry about things.
“I think we should get a dog.”
“What?”
“We should get a dog. Every kid should grow up with a dog.” He turned his head to look at me. Most of his face was in shadow, but his eyes were bright. He smiled at me.
“Ok. Is that it? That’s what’s keeping you up?”
“Yes. Oh, and I also love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And I farted.” I had never known James to end anything on any kind of sappy note, so he always had to say or do something childish to ruin the moment.
I loved him so much.
-
“He’s kind of gross.” There were so many dogs at the shelter, but my husband immediately went to the mangiest one. A large mutt with his tongue hanging limply out of the side of his mouth. The mousey brown fur looked like someone had teased it with a brush and sealed the deal with an entire can of hairspray, and he had a slight limp as it walked toward this strange new man making baby talk. I watched the dog cock its head from side to side like it understood what James was saying.
“He’s perfect.” I could tell that James was in love.
“Why him?”
“Well…every other little guy in here is so animated and vibrant. He’s…um…not.”
“He looks like an oversized mouse with bad hair.”
“That’s perfect!”
“What?”
“We can name him Feivel! Does Feivel like that name?! Who’s a bugaboo doggie?! Who’s da doggie?!” The dog started making inquisitive whines and that lazy tongue came to life and began to lick the strange man's fingers through the chain link fence.
Feivel came home with us, and for a month that dog never left my husband’s side.
-
“What happened?”
“Can you put me on speaker so Art can hear me?”
“Ok. You’re scaring me Katherine.” I was trying to hold it together. James’ parents had recently moved to the east coast, so I had no choice but to call them on the phone with the news. “Ok, you’re on speaker.”
“Ok. James… um… James had an accident. It was a hit and run. Someone hit him with a car while he was crossing the street and then just kept driving.”
“Oh my God! Is he alright?”
“He’s um…” I had been with James since our sophomore year in high school, but we had been friends since we were six. I had known his parents for almost just as long.
“He’s…he’s gone.”
“Oh my God…”
I had to make lots of phone calls that day. It was the hardest day of my life.
-
“Mommy needs to talk to you.”
Feivel had been pacing the house for three days. When he wasn’t pacing, he would just sit at the front door waiting for James to come home. He wouldn't sit with me, almost like he blamed me for James not being there.
“Come here. Feivel! Come here.” He finally gave in and walked over to the couch. I patted the cushion next to me and he jumped on the couch and sat down.
He grunted at me several times and when he was done voicing his frustrations, his tongue jutted out of the side of his mouth and just hung there.
I don’t know if it sounds stupid or not, but I had a conversation with him about what had happened to his Daddy and why he wasn’t with us anymore. I felt like it would have been cruel not to.
He stared at me through the whole story and when I was finished, there was a heavy silence between us that was eventually broken by a small cry from him before he put his head in my lap.
-
Three weeks later, I had Casey. The birth was rough and there were multiple issues. For a little bit there, I was afraid that I might lose her too. She had to stay in the hospital longer than I would have liked, but when I was finally able to bring her home, Feivel took to her instantly.
He was always next to her.
-
As the years went by, I made sure Casey knew every detail about her father. I would tell her stories and Feivel would always add something in his own language. I don’t know if he was backing up what I said or perhaps contradicting it, but I do know he was always happy to be included in the reminiscing.
Shortly after she turned four, Casey’s favorite pastime was drawing with her crayons. I had quite a few pictures up on our fridge of our little family in the midst of imagined adventures. She always drew James in with us. The way she always emphasized his balding head would make me smile.
I would BBQ on Friday nights because James had always done the same.
When we first moved in, he had built a huge grilling station out of brick and bought this ridiculously large grill that could almost fit an entire cow inside of it. James had said we would need it for the amount of children and grandchildren that we were going to have. We would sit in front of it every Friday night with a bottle of whiskey while he cooked.
Casey and I would sit at the same table and have juice while we made hot dogs. I thought it was important to keep some of our traditions alive for Casey.
In spite of losing James, we were happy. I started to adjust to a life without a partner, which was not a very easy thing to do since we had been a part of each other’s lives since we were both six years old.
-
Almost five years after I lost James, I met Stephen. I was a busy woman with a young daughter and up to that point, I had not even thought about dating. There was something different about Stephen though. I was interested in him from the first time we met.
Casey and I were playing in the park with Feivel one day and somehow we lost him. He just vanished. I looked for him for hours while my mom watched Casey, but I couldn’t find him. For three days I was beside myself and Casey was constantly in tears. Then, Stephen showed up on my doorstep holding our Feivel at the end of a leash.
A tall man with thick hair and trendy glasses wearing a flannel and jeans.
“Oh my God!”
“Hi. I uh…found him in the park down by the river.” I snatched him up and he started whimpering and shaking his butt back and forth. I completely ignored the man at my door. When Feivel had had enough of my pets, he ran inside to look for Casey.
“Thank you so much. Oh my God, you have no idea how much we missed him.” I was wiping tears from my eyes.
“Oh, I might have a clue.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
As I was wiping my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I realized that the man standing at my door was gorgeous.
“Can I…let me give you some money or something. You have no idea how happy you just made my daughter.”
“No, that's ok. Just happy to help.”
“Thank you.”
There was something about the way he looked at me with his eyes. My stomach fluttered. I wanted to invite him in, and the fact that I wanted to do that upset me.
I thanked him. I didn’t even ask him for his name. I’ll admit that I even closed the door on him a little more abruptly than I meant to.
All three of us shared my bed that night. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in years.
-
A couple weeks went by and then I saw him again, the man who had found Feivel. He was sitting in the park with his back against a tree, reading a book. Casey and I had been taking turns throwing a frisbee for Feivel, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I decided that I would thank him again and apologize for being so awkward.
As I walked closer, I took in every detail. I was sure he was a few years younger than I was and he looked very athletic. His glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he read from The Winter of Our Discontent; Steinbeck has always been my favorite author.
Feivel must have seen him just as I was about to say something because he reached the man before I did. I could hear Casey calling for me.
“Hold on honey. Give me a second.”
Feivel was all over the man and he was laughing at the writhing whining beast who was trying its best to lick every inch of his face.
“Feivel, don’t be rude.”
“No, it's fine. I’m glad he remembers me.”
“Yeah. Wow, he really remembers you.” Feivel was so excited that he started to whimper and expose his tummy. “Feivel! Have some self respect!”
The man stood up next to me. My stomach was fluttering again and I could not stop looking at his eyes.
“Hey, I have to apologize about…uh the way I kinda shut my door in your face.” He laughed.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Mommy?” Casey had run up behind me and was partially hiding herself behind my leg while she stared at the man. “Mommy?”
“This is my daughter Casey.”
“Hello Casey.”
“Hello.”
“My name’s Stephen.” Casey stayed behind my leg.
“It’s ok honey. Tell him your name.”
“I’m Casey and this is my mom. Her name is Katherine.”
“Well…you’re a very pretty girl and it’s very nice to meet you.” I noticed that his eyes started to tear up while he was looking at my Casey. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. He was clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. She just… reminds me of my niece. We lost her a few years ago.”
We talked for a while that day. Every time he looked over at Casey, I swore that he was on the verge of tears.
-
It didn’t take very long at all; I was hooked. Feivel was hooked. Eventually, even Casey was hooked.
I tried to take it slow. I didn’t want to date anyone. I wasn’t over James and I knew it, but I just wanted to be around this man and I honestly could not explain what it was at the time. I always wanted him at the house, so he was there all the time. I loved it when he looked at me.
For the most part, he was great, but there were some things that were off. There were things I should have paid more attention to, but again, there was something about him that made me feel like I needed him.
He would kiss me with his eyes open every time, and even though the way he kissed me was great, something about it still gave me the creeps. I would crack my eyes open sometimes in the hopes that he had stopped doing it. Every time I saw those eyes staring back at me, I felt uneasy. I had only ever been with James, so I thought maybe some guys just did that, even though all of my friends thought it was weird too.
He also did things when he would come over that would raise the hairs on the back of my neck. Maybe that description is a little too harsh for what I was thinking at the time, but it fits now.
He would move things around the house. The toilet paper would be folded in that terrible triangle every time. James used to do that. He would also randomly adjust my coffee cups in the cabinet so the handles all faced the same way. Again, something my James used to do.
I had no idea what he did for a living, he told me he was in construction, but I had no idea who he worked for. He had never invited me over to his house, nor did he ever talk about his family.
My friends told me that I needed to relax and just enjoy myself. I admit, for the most part he seemed like the almost perfect guy. It was almost like he knew everything about me.
-
It was three months before he stayed overnight. I had Casey stay over at my mother’s house because it didn’t feel right to have her there.
We tried to be intimate, but I felt dirty. He said it was fine. He stayed anyway.
In the middle of the night I rolled over and cracked my eyes open. He was in the rocking chair in the corner. The moon was illuminating his eyes while he looked out the window. I thought I was dreaming for a minute.
“I know you’re awake…Katherine…Katherine?”
I didn’t say anything. I pretended to sleep. He turned his face to me and smiled. His eyes were so wide and bright.
“Katherine?”
I never went back to sleep that night. I just laid there for a while going back and forth from feeling like I was betraying my husband to feeling like I was an idiot who should just enjoy having a relationship with someone.
Around four in the morning, I had finally begun to drift off to sleep, but Stephen started making noises.
I rolled over and realized that his eyes were wide open. I was going to say something, but he was asleep. I waved my hand in front of his face to make sure.
He began to grunt and his body would shake every now and then. He was having a bad dream and his open eyes began darting back and forth.
“Get out of my head…” He whispered it twice. “Fuck you…out of my head…Mine now…”
It was too much to take. I quietly slid off of the bed and backed my way out of the room. Just as I made it to my door, his eyes moved and focused on me. He was still asleep, but it was like his eyes were watching me just the same.
I walked downstairs. He continued to talk in his sleep for over an hour. I was pretty sure right then that I had to break it off, or at least really slow down. I just didn’t feel right. And to be honest, I was a little creeped out.
-
I was drinking my coffee in the kitchen and thinking about what I was going to say when something caught my eye. Casey’s pictures of our family on the fridge looked different.I got up and took a closer look. James had been changed in every picture. He didn’t have short hair anymore, it was full and he was also wearing glasses. My heart skipped a beat and I felt a terrible lump in my throat. I wondered what this man had said to my daughter to convince her to remove her father from the pictures. I was done.
A few minutes later, he came downstairs in a rush. He was wearing a black Flogging Molly t-shirt. James’ favorite shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Good morning! I forgot to turn on the alarm! I’m going to be late for work!”
“Stephen, why are you wearing that shirt?”
“I found it in your closet.”
“But why are you wearing it?”
“Well in case you forgot, I ripped the one I was wearing last night.”
“That’s my husband’s shirt.”
“Oh come on, he’s not going to be wearing it anytime soon. I gotta go, I’ll see you after work.” He leaned in for a kiss, but I backed away. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“What?”
“I think we need to take a break.”
“Over a t-shirt?”
“There’s…there’s a lot of things Stephen.”
“Are you being fucking serious with me right now?” His voice raised, something I had not yet experienced with him. Something in my head told me to back away from him, so I did. I backed right up against the counter within reach of my knives. It made me feel better.
“I think so.”
“But I don’t want to do that. Tell me what I did and I’ll fix it. I’ll take off the shirt. Katherine…please.” I looked right into his eyes. I thought maybe I was overreacting, but the pictures, messing with my daughter to erase her father, that was the breaking point.
“Please leave.”
The kindness in his face fell away to an ugliness that made me start to tremble. He noticed it. A smile slowly started to rise and it looked like he was going to take a step closer. I rested my hand on the counter behind me, inches from the knife block. He halted and stood still.
“Feivel!” My dog ran into the kitchen at the sound of my voice and looked back and forth between us. I could tell that he sensed the tension. Feivel walked over to my side and just looked back at Stephen without making a sound.
“Are you going to sick the dog on me? Are you crazy or something?”
“Stephen, I just want you to leave.”
“I thought I did everything right.” He let out a sigh. “I had all the answers. I know everything about you and I still can’t make it work. This cannot be my fault…it’s not…it’s your fault! Why are you doing this?!”
“Leave. Now.”
“Ok…I just…” He started laughing and looked down. He tapped my husband's shirt. “Well…shit… I tried to fuck Katherine, and all I got was this lousy tshirt…is that how this going to end?” He just stared at me. I wouldn’t answer him. “I don’t think so. You’re going to change your mind.” He turned and walked out of the door, slamming it behind him.
After he left, I locked all of the doors and called my mother. I told her what happened and not to take Casey to daycare. I told her that I would be able to pick her up in just a little bit. I called all my friends and let them know what happened. I basically wanted to hear other people tell me that Stephen was nuts and in the event that something happened to me, I wanted people to know where to look first.
I ripped all of Casey’s drawings off of the fridge and crumpled them up and threw them away.
I walked back upstairs to get dressed and I noticed other things.
I had only kept a few clothes that belonged to my husband and some of them were missing. I had a small jewelry box on the bathroom counter, and most of the rings and necklaces that James had given me were also missing. I walked through the house and began to notice random little things were missing here and there and the only thing they all had in common were that they were gifts given to me by James.
-
Before I picked up Casey at my mother’s, I called the police to see if anything could be done, even though I was pretty sure that I knew the answer. Other than being a creep and a thief, Stephen actually hadn’t done anything. There was nothing the police could do.
I took Casey to the park to explain to her why Stephen wouldn’t be around anymore. Feivel was sitting next to her in the backseat. I started by asking her about her drawings.
“I didn’t change them.”
“Casey, honey, I saw them this morning. They’re changed. You changed the way daddy looks.”
“But I didn’t mommy. I wouldn’t do that. Maybe Stephen did it.”
“You think Stephen took your crayons and changed your drawings?”
“Maybe. He thought he was going to be my new daddy anyway, so maybe he thought it was a good idea.”
“Wait. Who said he was going to be your new daddy?”
“He did. He said it lots.”
When we got to the park, I made sure Casey stayed right next to me. We started throwing the frisbee down by the river so Feivel could play in the water if he wanted. I asked her some more questions about Stephen and anything else he might have said to her. It didn’t sound like he had said much more.
We were about to leave when Casey started waving at something.
“Look Mommy, it’s Stephen!”
He was standing on the other side of the river, and he was waving back to us. He was wearing a button up shirt and a pair of jeans that both belonged to my husband. He was smiling at me.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you mad at Stephen or something?”
“Yes honey. I don’t think we’re going to be talking to Stephen anymore. I think he needs to go away.” I reached down and scooped up my daughter and began to walk back toward our car.
“We’re going home. Come on Feivel! Feivel?” My dog had been staring at Stephen and he still hadn’t moved. “Feivel, come!”
Stephen whistled and that was enough for Feivel. He jumped into the river and began swimming toward the other side. I called after him over and over, but he eventually made it to the other side and ran over to Stephen. He gave me one last wave before he reached down and clipped a leash onto Feivel’s collar. He turned around and started to walk away.
I ran back to the car and put Casey in her car seat as fast as I could and I drove to the parking lot on the other side of the river, but by the time I got there, he was gone with our dog.
-
I filled out a report with the police and tried to get a restraining order.
“Ok, so here’s the problem. You said his name was Stephen Tasavo?”
“That’s right.”
“Ok look. This is not going to make you feel any better, but this man doesn’t exist.”
“What?!”
“He gave you a false name, Miss. Couldn’t find anybody by that name fitting his description. You got him on social media anywhere? Does he have any friends?”
“I…I don’t know. I don’t have any of that crap. Social media I mean. I guess I just…never asked him about any of it. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months.”
“Well, from the pictures you took on your phone, we know what he looks like. We’re going to keep an eye out for him, whoever he is. I suggest you keep your doors locked and inform the people at your daughter’s school. If there’s anywhere else you can go, I don’t think that would be a bad idea.”
I went home that night anyway. Casey was a mess after Stephen took Feivel and I thought that it would be a mistake if I didn’t give her some sense of normalcy. I had four friends stay with me that night.
-
A month later I got a call from a number that I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Don’t hang up the phone Katherine. Feivel really wants to hear your voice.”
“You sick fuck! Give me back my dog!” He was quiet for a moment.
“I've got you on speaker and you’re saying nasty things like that. He can hear everything you’re saying. Can’t you?! Can’t you?! Who’s a bugaboo doggie?! Who’s da doggie?!”
“Stephen…I’ll do whatever you want…please just give him back to me.”
“Come on Katherine. I know you know that’s not my name.”
“What is your name?”
“You know, I thought I had to become someone else to be with you. But I don’t think so. I’m going to like you getting to know the real me.”
“Please just give me my dog.”
“I’m going to make you see that it was destiny that your husband died. I’m going to make you see that his death was what it took to bring us together.”
“You son of a bitch!”
“Anyway, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone.
I called the police, and after that night, I didn’t hear anything from Stephen for two months. Two months of looking over my shoulder. Two months of waiting.
I bought a gun. I kept it in the drawer of my bedside table. I wasn’t taking any chances.
-
I woke up with a start in the middle of the night and I heard the sound of muffled whining. I sat up in bed and looked around my bedroom before I grabbed the gun and got up. I walked to my window and noticed that it was slightly open. I looked down into the backyard.
Smoke was pouring out from underneath the closed lid on the grill. It looked like something was tied around the handles in order to keep it shut. I ran downstairs to the patio door. I opened it and held the gun in front of me. The smell of something burning was making me sick to my stomach. Something was crying out inside of the grill, frantically trying to get out. My heart sank as I realized that it was Feivel’s collar tied around the handle.
I screamed and grabbed the hose and turned it on. I lunged for the lid of the grill and I burned my hands as I tore away the collar from the handles.
I threw the top to the grill open and sprayed the hose inside. Feivel leapt out of the grill and down onto the brick patio. I soaked him with the hose. A belt had been tied around his muzzle. I ripped it off of his face and kept the water on him.
I turned to look back at the house. I didn’t want to leave him, but I realized that I had left my phone upstairs. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but then I had a hard time making any sound when I saw what was on the patio table. There was a bottle of whiskey on it with two glasses that had already been poured. There was a note on the table.
“It’s Friday Night! Time to BBQ!”
There was also something else on the table. A small fake rock. James and I had always kept it hidden amongst the other rocks in the backyard.It had a small compartment on the underside where we kept a spare key to our house. Stephen was in our house.
I looked back down to Feivel. I was left with the awful decision of having to leave my dog. He was gasping for air, but he was still alive. I had to get to Casey to make sure she was safe.
“Feivel, I’m sorry!” I left the hose laying across him and I ran back inside.
As I ran up the stairs, I saw that Casey’s door was closed and as I reached out for the knob, I heard a familiar noise coming from my room. The sound of a rocking chair. I cracked open Casey’s door and I could see that she was still asleep in her bed.
“Kaaaatheriiiiine…”
I closed the door and held the gun in front of me as I walked into my room.
The man I knew as Stephen was rocking in my husband's chair, wearing my husband’s clothes, and holding a house key that only myself and my husband knew about.
“I’ve missed you so much.” I raised the gun without saying a word. My hand was shaking. He was smiling and rocking back and forth. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
“Goodbye Stephen.” I pulled the trigger and nothing happened but a dry snap. I pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened.
“If you held that thing more often, you could probably tell that it’s just a little heavier when it has bullets in it.”
I lunged for my bedside table and pulled the drawer open. The small box of bullets was gone.
“I unloaded it while you were asleep.” He stood up. I ran for Casey’s door, but he caught me before I could open it. I felt his hand go over my mouth and he picked me up by my shoulders. I struggled as he carried me closer to the top of the stairs.
“I’ve watched you sleep for so many nights now, just wondering how I could get you back. But I think there might not be any saving of what we had.” He hit me across the face and threw me down the stairs.
I heard my ankles snap when I hit the floor, and I screamed. His footsteps were quiet as he started walking down the stairs.
“We could have had a life together. I really wanted that. I even put something on the grill, but then you went and ruined that too.”
“Mommy?!” Casey had run out of her bedroom and was at the top of the stairs looking down on us. Stephen was just a few steps away from me. I started to crawl along the floor toward the kitchen.
“Go back to your room Casey. You’re mother and I are fighting.”
“Casey! Get Mommy’s phone and call for help!” I screamed, as I pulled myself along the floor and into the kitchen. All I could think of was getting to the block of knives.
“Where do you think you're going off to? Wait, I know…”
Stephen ran around me and to the kitchen counter. He picked up the block of knives and spilled them on the floor. “Come and get ‘em Katherine.”
He walked back over and stood over me while I crawled toward the knives. He was laughing.
“To think, if someone hadn’t killed your husband, none of this would have happened.”
I tried to shut his voice out of my head as I crawled forward. I was getting closer.
“You know the person who hit him did actually stop for a moment…just a moment…he opened his car door and almost ran over to help, but then something stopped him. Did you know that?”
He’s lying Kathering. Keep moving.
“I was there. If I close my eyes, I can still see the whole thing. If that guy had helped instead of just driving away, maybe James would have survived and what I’ve had with you and Casey… all that would never have been.”
I was right in front of the pile of knives. I reached out and then he stomped on my hand. I felt bones break. He leaned down, grabbed me, and turned me over to look at him. He was crying.
“I still think it was destiny that brought us together, but I was wrong about you. You don’t have any place in our family. Me and Casey. I’m going to take her far away from here. She’s mine now.” Tears were pouring out of his eyes and he was trying to blink them away, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
“Son of a bitch! Stop it! Stop it!” He rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “She’s mine now!”
I brought my knee up as hard as I could between his legs and he dropped me to the floor. He fell to his knees right next to me. I could hear sirens outside.
I reached out and grabbed the largest knife. I raised it over my head, but before I could swing it down, he grabbed my wrist and started to squeeze. I felt my grip start to loosen and I was afraid that I was going to drop the knife. He started to laugh as the sirens were getting closer.
“Looks like it’s time we get things over with.”
I felt his body slam against mine, and at first I had no idea what had happened, but then Stephen began to scream and I could hear Feivel growling behind him.
Feivel had managed to fit his jaws around the back of Stephen’s neck and buried his teeth to the gums. He was pulling Stephen away from me; blood poured down either side of his throat.
I tightened my grip on the knife and I pushed it into Stephen’s stomach over and over and over again. Feivel eventually let go of Stephen, and as I continued to plunge the knife into the mushy mess I had made, my dog limped over and started to whimper.
As Stephen lay there gasping for breath, I stared at his eyes. They were staring back at me and he was no longer weeping. I felt crazy, but his eyes looked kind. They looked happy.
-
“How are you feeling now?” I remember the detective had this perfect voice. A Paul Winfield voice. Had the things he was about to tell me weren’t so terrible, I would probably only remember how beautiful that voice was.
“I can’t walk, but they’ve got me so drugged up that I don’t mind very much. I’m going to be able to go home tomorrow. Or…to my mother’s at least.”
“How’s your daughter doing?”
“She’s good. She’s staying with my mother.”
“I hear that hero dog is going to pull through.”
I smiled. Tears started coming up thinking of Feivel sitting somewhere without me while he was going through all this.
“He’s not going to be a hundred percent, but he’s going to have a good life. He deserves it.”
“Ok. Now for the unpleasant stuff. We finally got some answers on who this guy is. Was, excuse me. His name is Joshua Linder. He’s been keeping a small apartment only a mile away from your house for the last three years. It looks like he’s been watching you the whole time. All kinds of things all over his apartment.”
“Did he kill James?”
“No. He couldn't have. Up until three years ago he lived across the country from you. Even then, there was no way he was driving the car that killed your husband. He was legally blind.”
“What?”
“Not completely blind, but may as well have been. That is his connection to you, and to your late husband I’m afraid.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You said he knew things he shouldn’t have right?”
“Yes.”
“Where the spare key was, um… certain things you shared with your late husband, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Katherine, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. You are aware that your husband was an organ donor, were you not?”
“Yeah.”
“It seems that uh… Mr. Linder was the recipient of your husband’s corneas after your husband passed. Now how he found out about you, we have no idea. There’s some kind of phenomenon that’s called cellular memory that frankly I think is…”
He kept talking, but the only thing on my mind were Stephen’s eyes.
-
My little family of three moved far away from home. We now have a house next to my husband’s parents where Casey can get to know her father’s parents and Feivel can go on walks with me while I pull him in his wagon when he gets too tired. I try not to think too much of what happened, but I still have trouble sleeping.

So I'm at 00g, my current glass plugs measure at 10mm and I've been wearing these for the most part for at least a year and a half. I ordered some new plugs but they didn't come in metric, only inch increments so I went with the 7/16".
These were custom order so they took a while to get here, but I measured them and they are spot on at 11.5 mm. I understand with glass their can be imperfect measurements or discrepancies. I tried doing a hot compress and oiled up one lobe and they were very close to going in. Just right at the back they didn't slide all the way and of course I didn't want to force it.
I went away this last weekend and wore my Kaos earskins throughout the trip that measure more around 9.5mm.
My question is, for an intermediary stretch should I go with 11mm, or 10.5mm? Either way I'm gonna have to do a 1mm stretch which I have done getting all the way up to where I'm at. Either I'm gonna have to do 1mm now to go from 10mm to 11mm, and then have only .5mm to get these new ones in, or I do a half mm now to 10.5mm and then afterwards go for the half remaining mm.
I have also popped my 10mm glass plugs back in for now. Thinking the extra weight and slight extra size compared to the ear skins may help, and maybe try again after a hot shower with the new plugs?
If these 7/16" ones were just a tad smaller they'd have popped right in.

I spent 4 months working on a stained glass project onto to crack it during a gallery! It’s currently taped together but what should I do? I have looked at windshield repair kits that have a thin resin that might work? Has anyone tried this?

“So what happens now?” I asked, “I’ve got no way home, here or anywhere else, right?” I clarified, it would be just like some genre otherworldly Wizard of Oz bs for it to turn out that all I needed to do the whole time was shake my tail and say three times, ‘there’s no place like a cheap apartment’ and then bam I’m back home again.
But? The range of hung heads and uncomfortable gestures ranged from sheepish, to ashamed, to pitying. “No, I’m afraid not.” The oldest of the group said, “It will take years to fix this properly, even if we do, sending you home is…” His tail drooped, “we’re able to send people ‘away’ and we ‘think’ they go back home when we do. But we have no way to check. For all we know they end up somewhere else entirely.”
“Couldn’t you just pull them back again and ask them?” I asked, but the old scientist spread out his hands at his sides and answered…
“Do you think we wouldn’t do that? No. Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. We don’t even call for many ‘people’. We ask for a ‘solution’ and this time?”
“I was the solution.” I finished his thought when he shook his head.
“I’m sorry. Truly. Do you have a family to get back to?” He asked, and that actually made me pause to think it over.
I had a penis that I definitely miss… but then again if I am a kitsune…? I shook that off to answer his question first. “No. Honestly, there’s nobody to go back to. I had a home, a bunch of tinker kits I still wanted to put together, but those won’t miss me.” I answered, that, I hated to say. I’d miss the job, but would I miss the job?
It was just a way to buy more things to build, break, and rebuild. If this place had the same, and I get to be a magic kitsune girl? It honestly didn’t strike me as a terrible deal.
“He0y, science guy, this is magic, right?” I asked and waved toward the machine.
“Sort of. It’s a blend of science and magic, ‘magisci’ to be precise.” He seemed more confident, and since I was calmer and less distressed, and probably since they realized they hadn’t taken me away from anyone in particular… I guess that was less of a burden on their consciences.
It’s funny how that works, the conscience weighs the head down, and easing it lets it come back up again. Or so I’ve noticed.
“Okay, so magic exists in this world, good to know. That explains all this.” I said and reached up to touch my ears. I would have grabbed my tails too, but what if that was like grabbing your own ass? It might be rude. The ears made my point.
He cocked his head at what I said, I supposed he probably didn’t know what his machine did. “Do ‘humans’ exist here?” I asked.
He nodded, “Yes.”
“I was a human. And a guy. Now my son is missing and I’ve got girls instead, not to mention the rest.” I pointed at my waist and then held my hands up beside my breasts. “Could you explain?”
They flushed a bright red in their faces. But the old man at least wasn’t tongue tied. “Yes, well… it might have been the way we asked the machine… you have to be very precise, you know. Very precise, and we were in a rush. What we should have asked for was ‘something to clean up the spill safely’. What we actually said was…” He looked around, “How did we say it?”
A slender catwoman’s tail swished, she wore glasses on her face and pressed them against her face with one extended claw, her white coat shook with the uncomfortable swishing. “Send us someone with what they need, to clean up.”
“That doesn’t sound like it should have done…” I waved my hand up and down the length of my body, “this.”
“It would, if it were said ‘send us someone’ she paused, ‘with what they need’ she paused again, ‘to clean up’.” She fell silent after that, I stared at her waiting for the pause to end, but it just got longer.
“Oh.” I said when she only stared back at me with luminous green eyes, her vertical pupils were fixed on me and I could only say, “Oh.” Again. I had no idea what she was talking about.
“The parameters were broken up.” She explained when she realized I was clueless. “Which meant when it chose you, it changed you to something more in line with what you saw yourself and how you wanted to be. You are someone. You saw yourself differently. And you had what would be needed to solve the crisis and save our lives.” Her tone was brusque, but when she said the last part, she seemed to realize how cold she sounded.
Her hands went flat to her thighs and she bent forward, sliding them down to just above her knees in a deep bow. “Thank you, for that.”
I think some people would have been offended by what she said, but the proof was in the pudding. I wasn’t nearly as upset as some of my favorite protagonists would have been. Far from it, the wall was polished enough that I had a somewhat blurry reflection at least, and even with what little I could see, I looked good.
I like the new me.
“So, what happens now? Do I get a big reward or-” I trailed off when they looked sheepish again.
The old scientist wrung his hands and said, “Well, ah, since we did this on our own, there’s exactly no chance of the government rewarding you. If you’d been chosen or summoned to solve a national crisis, I’m sure we’d reward you greatly. But we acted without thinking so…”
“Kotomo… shut up.” The catwoman snapped. I yanked my head away from the old man to face the feline. Her ears were back and if she’d hissed next I would have been completely unsurprised.
“So… I’m not the chosen one… and I’m broke. Homeless. And jobless.” I summarized. This was not looking good.
“No. You’re not the chosen one. And worse, he’s not wrong, but there’s nine of us here who owe you a life debt. We’ll take up a collection for you. Won’t we?” She looked at her colleagues. “And, if you should find yourself short of funds in the future, or in need of some help our office can provide. We’ll help you. Won’t we?” She asked, but she was clearly not asking.
The old man spoke up again, “Yes. Yes, of course. We’ll get you started with what you need! We’ll get you a slate, register you as a citizen so you have your rights, transfer some money to you, teach you to use it. And if ever you need our support or assistance, it’s yours for the asking.” He nodded emphatically, his ears wiggling around as he insisted on echoing the sentiments of his colleague.
“I’ll see to him myself.” The catwoman scientist said and strode over to me, “I’m Dr. Ita Shizumura. Can we have the name of our rescuer?” She asked and stuck out her hand. It was a fairly human hand, but her nails were claws, she retracted them, and they returned to being normal looking fingernails.
I took her hand. “Aiko. Aiko Tsuniki.”
“Alright, Aiko, come with me and we’ll get your life here started.” She said, and the previously sealed door opened up. She led me out, and as I followed, I began to wonder if my bad luck was good luck after all. Perhaps that’s why I followed her with a spring in my step.

“I know you’re awake…Katherine…Kaaaaatheriiiine…”
“Shut up.” I had been awake for a little while, just staring at the wall.
“I knew it.”
“Can you not sleep?” I rolled over and looked at him as I asked the question.
James was in his rocking chair in the corner of our bedroom right next to the window. The moon outside was illuminating his face.
“I’m ok. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” I did my best to sit up. I was almost at my due date and I was enormous. During the pregnancy I wasn’t quite as sensitive to his little issues that I normally was.
James suffered from severe bouts of anxiety and he would spend lots of nights just rocking in his chair, trying not to worry about things.
“I think we should get a dog.”
“What?”
“We should get a dog. Every kid should grow up with a dog.” He turned his head to look at me. Most of his face was in shadow, but his eyes were bright. He smiled at me.
“Ok. Is that it? That’s what’s keeping you up?”
“Yes. Oh, and I also love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And I farted.” I had never known James to end anything on any kind of sappy note, so he always had to say or do something childish to ruin the moment.
I loved him so much.
-
“He’s kind of gross.” There were so many dogs at the shelter, but my husband immediately went to the mangiest one. A large mutt with his tongue hanging limply out of the side of his mouth. The mousey brown fur looked like someone had teased it with a brush and sealed the deal with an entire can of hairspray, and he had a slight limp as it walked toward this strange new man making baby talk. I watched the dog cock its head from side to side like it understood what James was saying.
“He’s perfect.” I could tell that James was in love.
“Why him?”
“Well…every other little guy in here is so animated and vibrant. He’s…um…not.”
“He looks like an oversized mouse with bad hair.”
“That’s perfect!”
“What?”
“We can name him Feivel! Does Feivel like that name?! Who’s a bugaboo doggie?! Who’s da doggie?!” The dog started making inquisitive whines and that lazy tongue came to life and began to lick the strange man's fingers through the chain link fence.
Feivel came home with us, and for a month that dog never left my husband’s side.
-
“What happened?”
“Can you put me on speaker so Art can hear me?”
“Ok. You’re scaring me Katherine.” I was trying to hold it together. James’ parents had recently moved to the east coast, so I had no choice but to call them on the phone with the news. “Ok, you’re on speaker.”
“Ok. James… um… James had an accident. It was a hit and run. Someone hit him with a car while he was crossing the street and then just kept driving.”
“Oh my God! Is he alright?”
“He’s um…” I had been with James since our sophomore year in high school, but we had been friends since we were six. I had known his parents for almost just as long.
“He’s…he’s gone.”
“Oh my God…”
I had to make lots of phone calls that day. It was the hardest day of my life.
-
“Mommy needs to talk to you.”
Feivel had been pacing the house for three days. When he wasn’t pacing, he would just sit at the front door waiting for James to come home. He wouldn't sit with me, almost like he blamed me for James not being there.
“Come here. Feivel! Come here.” He finally gave in and walked over to the couch. I patted the cushion next to me and he jumped on the couch and sat down.
He grunted at me several times and when he was done voicing his frustrations, his tongue jutted out of the side of his mouth and just hung there.
I don’t know if it sounds stupid or not, but I had a conversation with him about what had happened to his Daddy and why he wasn’t with us anymore. I felt like it would have been cruel not to.
He stared at me through the whole story and when I was finished, there was a heavy silence between us that was eventually broken by a small cry from him before he put his head in my lap.
-
Three weeks later, I had Casey. The birth was rough and there were multiple issues. For a little bit there, I was afraid that I might lose her too. She had to stay in the hospital longer than I would have liked, but when I was finally able to bring her home, Feivel took to her instantly.
He was always next to her.
-
As the years went by, I made sure Casey knew every detail about her father. I would tell her stories and Feivel would always add something in his own language. I don’t know if he was backing up what I said or perhaps contradicting it, but I do know he was always happy to be included in the reminiscing.
Shortly after she turned four, Casey’s favorite pastime was drawing with her crayons. I had quite a few pictures up on our fridge of our little family in the midst of imagined adventures. She always drew James in with us. The way she always emphasized his balding head would make me smile.
I would BBQ on Friday nights because James had always done the same.
When we first moved in, he had built a huge grilling station out of brick and bought this ridiculously large grill that could almost fit an entire cow inside of it. James had said we would need it for the amount of children and grandchildren that we were going to have. We would sit in front of it every Friday night with a bottle of whiskey while he cooked.
Casey and I would sit at the same table and have juice while we made hot dogs. I thought it was important to keep some of our traditions alive for Casey.
In spite of losing James, we were happy. I started to adjust to a life without a partner, which was not a very easy thing to do since we had been a part of each other’s lives since we were both six years old.
-
Almost five years after I lost James, I met Stephen. I was a busy woman with a young daughter and up to that point, I had not even thought about dating. There was something different about Stephen though. I was interested in him from the first time we met.
Casey and I were playing in the park with Feivel one day and somehow we lost him. He just vanished. I looked for him for hours while my mom watched Casey, but I couldn’t find him. For three days I was beside myself and Casey was constantly in tears. Then, Stephen showed up on my doorstep holding our Feivel at the end of a leash.
A tall man with thick hair and trendy glasses wearing a flannel and jeans.
“Oh my God!”
“Hi. I uh…found him in the park down by the river.” I snatched him up and he started whimpering and shaking his butt back and forth. I completely ignored the man at my door. When Feivel had had enough of my pets, he ran inside to look for Casey.
“Thank you so much. Oh my God, you have no idea how much we missed him.” I was wiping tears from my eyes.
“Oh, I might have a clue.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
As I was wiping my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, I realized that the man standing at my door was gorgeous.
“Can I…let me give you some money or something. You have no idea how happy you just made my daughter.”
“No, that's ok. Just happy to help.”
“Thank you.”
There was something about the way he looked at me with his eyes. My stomach fluttered. I wanted to invite him in, and the fact that I wanted to do that upset me.
I thanked him. I didn’t even ask him for his name. I’ll admit that I even closed the door on him a little more abruptly than I meant to.
All three of us shared my bed that night. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in years.
-
A couple weeks went by and then I saw him again, the man who had found Feivel. He was sitting in the park with his back against a tree, reading a book. Casey and I had been taking turns throwing a frisbee for Feivel, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I decided that I would thank him again and apologize for being so awkward.
As I walked closer, I took in every detail. I was sure he was a few years younger than I was and he looked very athletic. His glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he read from The Winter of Our Discontent; Steinbeck has always been my favorite author.
Feivel must have seen him just as I was about to say something because he reached the man before I did. I could hear Casey calling for me.
“Hold on honey. Give me a second.”
Feivel was all over the man and he was laughing at the writhing whining beast who was trying its best to lick every inch of his face.
“Feivel, don’t be rude.”
“No, it's fine. I’m glad he remembers me.”
“Yeah. Wow, he really remembers you.” Feivel was so excited that he started to whimper and expose his tummy. “Feivel! Have some self respect!”
The man stood up next to me. My stomach was fluttering again and I could not stop looking at his eyes.
“Hey, I have to apologize about…uh the way I kinda shut my door in your face.” He laughed.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Mommy?” Casey had run up behind me and was partially hiding herself behind my leg while she stared at the man. “Mommy?”
“This is my daughter Casey.”
“Hello Casey.”
“Hello.”
“My name’s Stephen.” Casey stayed behind my leg.
“It’s ok honey. Tell him your name.”
“I’m Casey and this is my mom. Her name is Katherine.”
“Well…you’re a very pretty girl and it’s very nice to meet you.” I noticed that his eyes started to tear up while he was looking at my Casey. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. He was clearly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. She just… reminds me of my niece. We lost her a few years ago.”
We talked for a while that day. Every time he looked over at Casey, I swore that he was on the verge of tears.
-
It didn’t take very long at all; I was hooked. Feivel was hooked. Eventually, even Casey was hooked.
I tried to take it slow. I didn’t want to date anyone. I wasn’t over James and I knew it, but I just wanted to be around this man and I honestly could not explain what it was at the time. I always wanted him at the house, so he was there all the time. I loved it when he looked at me.
For the most part, he was great, but there were some things that were off. There were things I should have paid more attention to, but again, there was something about him that made me feel like I needed him.
He would kiss me with his eyes open every time, and even though the way he kissed me was great, something about it still gave me the creeps. I would crack my eyes open sometimes in the hopes that he had stopped doing it. Every time I saw those eyes staring back at me, I felt uneasy. I had only ever been with James, so I thought maybe some guys just did that, even though all of my friends thought it was weird too.
He also did things when he would come over that would raise the hairs on the back of my neck. Maybe that description is a little too harsh for what I was thinking at the time, but it fits now.
He would move things around the house. The toilet paper would be folded in that terrible triangle every time. James used to do that. He would also randomly adjust my coffee cups in the cabinet so the handles all faced the same way. Again, something my James used to do.
I had no idea what he did for a living, he told me he was in construction, but I had no idea who he worked for. He had never invited me over to his house, nor did he ever talk about his family.
My friends told me that I needed to relax and just enjoy myself. I admit, for the most part he seemed like the almost perfect guy. It was almost like he knew everything about me.
-
It was three months before he stayed overnight. I had Casey stay over at my mother’s house because it didn’t feel right to have her there.
We tried to be intimate, but I felt dirty. He said it was fine. He stayed anyway.
In the middle of the night I rolled over and cracked my eyes open. He was in the rocking chair in the corner. The moon was illuminating his eyes while he looked out the window. I thought I was dreaming for a minute.
“I know you’re awake…Katherine…Katherine?”
I didn’t say anything. I pretended to sleep. He turned his face to me and smiled. His eyes were so wide and bright.
“Katherine?”
I never went back to sleep that night. I just laid there for a while going back and forth from feeling like I was betraying my husband to feeling like I was an idiot who should just enjoy having a relationship with someone.
Around four in the morning, I had finally begun to drift off to sleep, but Stephen started making noises.
I rolled over and realized that his eyes were wide open. I was going to say something, but he was asleep. I waved my hand in front of his face to make sure.
He began to grunt and his body would shake every now and then. He was having a bad dream and his open eyes began darting back and forth.
“Get out of my head…” He whispered it twice. “Fuck you…out of my head…Mine now…”
It was too much to take. I quietly slid off of the bed and backed my way out of the room. Just as I made it to my door, his eyes moved and focused on me. He was still asleep, but it was like his eyes were watching me just the same.
I walked downstairs. He continued to talk in his sleep for over an hour. I was pretty sure right then that I had to break it off, or at least really slow down. I just didn’t feel right. And to be honest, I was a little creeped out.
-
I was drinking my coffee in the kitchen and thinking about what I was going to say when something caught my eye. Casey’s pictures of our family on the fridge looked different.I got up and took a closer look. James had been changed in every picture. He didn’t have short hair anymore, it was full and he was also wearing glasses. My heart skipped a beat and I felt a terrible lump in my throat. I wondered what this man had said to my daughter to convince her to remove her father from the pictures. I was done.
A few minutes later, he came downstairs in a rush. He was wearing a black Flogging Molly t-shirt. James’ favorite shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Good morning! I forgot to turn on the alarm! I’m going to be late for work!”
“Stephen, why are you wearing that shirt?”
“I found it in your closet.”
“But why are you wearing it?”
“Well in case you forgot, I ripped the one I was wearing last night.”
“That’s my husband’s shirt.”
“Oh come on, he’s not going to be wearing it anytime soon. I gotta go, I’ll see you after work.” He leaned in for a kiss, but I backed away. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“What?”
“I think we need to take a break.”
“Over a t-shirt?”
“There’s…there’s a lot of things Stephen.”
“Are you being fucking serious with me right now?” His voice raised, something I had not yet experienced with him. Something in my head told me to back away from him, so I did. I backed right up against the counter within reach of my knives. It made me feel better.
“I think so.”
“But I don’t want to do that. Tell me what I did and I’ll fix it. I’ll take off the shirt. Katherine…please.” I looked right into his eyes. I thought maybe I was overreacting, but the pictures, messing with my daughter to erase her father, that was the breaking point.
“Please leave.”
The kindness in his face fell away to an ugliness that made me start to tremble. He noticed it. A smile slowly started to rise and it looked like he was going to take a step closer. I rested my hand on the counter behind me, inches from the knife block. He halted and stood still.
“Feivel!” My dog ran into the kitchen at the sound of my voice and looked back and forth between us. I could tell that he sensed the tension. Feivel walked over to my side and just looked back at Stephen without making a sound.
“Are you going to sick the dog on me? Are you crazy or something?”
“Stephen, I just want you to leave.”
“I thought I did everything right.” He let out a sigh. “I had all the answers. I know everything about you and I still can’t make it work. This cannot be my fault…it’s not…it’s your fault! Why are you doing this?!”
“Leave. Now.”
“Ok…I just…” He started laughing and looked down. He tapped my husband's shirt. “Well…shit… I tried to fuck Katherine, and all I got was this lousy tshirt…is that how this going to end?” He just stared at me. I wouldn’t answer him. “I don’t think so. You’re going to change your mind.” He turned and walked out of the door, slamming it behind him.
After he left, I locked all of the doors and called my mother. I told her what happened and not to take Casey to daycare. I told her that I would be able to pick her up in just a little bit. I called all my friends and let them know what happened. I basically wanted to hear other people tell me that Stephen was nuts and in the event that something happened to me, I wanted people to know where to look first.
I ripped all of Casey’s drawings off of the fridge and crumpled them up and threw them away.
I walked back upstairs to get dressed and I noticed other things.
I had only kept a few clothes that belonged to my husband and some of them were missing. I had a small jewelry box on the bathroom counter, and most of the rings and necklaces that James had given me were also missing. I walked through the house and began to notice random little things were missing here and there and the only thing they all had in common were that they were gifts given to me by James.
-
Before I picked up Casey at my mother’s, I called the police to see if anything could be done, even though I was pretty sure that I knew the answer. Other than being a creep and a thief, Stephen actually hadn’t done anything. There was nothing the police could do.
I took Casey to the park to explain to her why Stephen wouldn’t be around anymore. Feivel was sitting next to her in the backseat. I started by asking her about her drawings.
“I didn’t change them.”
“Casey, honey, I saw them this morning. They’re changed. You changed the way daddy looks.”
“But I didn’t mommy. I wouldn’t do that. Maybe Stephen did it.”
“You think Stephen took your crayons and changed your drawings?”
“Maybe. He thought he was going to be my new daddy anyway, so maybe he thought it was a good idea.”
“Wait. Who said he was going to be your new daddy?”
“He did. He said it lots.”
When we got to the park, I made sure Casey stayed right next to me. We started throwing the frisbee down by the river so Feivel could play in the water if he wanted. I asked her some more questions about Stephen and anything else he might have said to her. It didn’t sound like he had said much more.
We were about to leave when Casey started waving at something.
“Look Mommy, it’s Stephen!”
He was standing on the other side of the river, and he was waving back to us. He was wearing a button up shirt and a pair of jeans that both belonged to my husband. He was smiling at me.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you mad at Stephen or something?”
“Yes honey. I don’t think we’re going to be talking to Stephen anymore. I think he needs to go away.” I reached down and scooped up my daughter and began to walk back toward our car.
“We’re going home. Come on Feivel! Feivel?” My dog had been staring at Stephen and he still hadn’t moved. “Feivel, come!”
Stephen whistled and that was enough for Feivel. He jumped into the river and began swimming toward the other side. I called after him over and over, but he eventually made it to the other side and ran over to Stephen. He gave me one last wave before he reached down and clipped a leash onto Feivel’s collar. He turned around and started to walk away.
I ran back to the car and put Casey in her car seat as fast as I could and I drove to the parking lot on the other side of the river, but by the time I got there, he was gone with our dog.
-
I filled out a report with the police and tried to get a restraining order.
“Ok, so here’s the problem. You said his name was Stephen Tasavo?”
“That’s right.”
“Ok look. This is not going to make you feel any better, but this man doesn’t exist.”
“What?!”
“He gave you a false name, Miss. Couldn’t find anybody by that name fitting his description. You got him on social media anywhere? Does he have any friends?”
“I…I don’t know. I don’t have any of that crap. Social media I mean. I guess I just…never asked him about any of it. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months.”
“Well, from the pictures you took on your phone, we know what he looks like. We’re going to keep an eye out for him, whoever he is. I suggest you keep your doors locked and inform the people at your daughter’s school. If there’s anywhere else you can go, I don’t think that would be a bad idea.”
I went home that night anyway. Casey was a mess after Stephen took Feivel and I thought that it would be a mistake if I didn’t give her some sense of normalcy. I had four friends stay with me that night.
-
A month later I got a call from a number that I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Don’t hang up the phone Katherine. Feivel really wants to hear your voice.”
“You sick fuck! Give me back my dog!” He was quiet for a moment.
“I've got you on speaker and you’re saying nasty things like that. He can hear everything you’re saying. Can’t you?! Can’t you?! Who’s a bugaboo doggie?! Who’s da doggie?!”
“Stephen…I’ll do whatever you want…please just give him back to me.”
“Come on Katherine. I know you know that’s not my name.”
“What is your name?”
“You know, I thought I had to become someone else to be with you. But I don’t think so. I’m going to like you getting to know the real me.”
“Please just give me my dog.”
“I’m going to make you see that it was destiny that your husband died. I’m going to make you see that his death was what it took to bring us together.”
“You son of a bitch!”
“Anyway, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone.
I called the police, and after that night, I didn’t hear anything from Stephen for two months. Two months of looking over my shoulder. Two months of waiting.
I bought a gun. I kept it in the drawer of my bedside table. I wasn’t taking any chances.
-
I woke up with a start in the middle of the night and I heard the sound of muffled whining. I sat up in bed and looked around my bedroom before I grabbed the gun and got up. I walked to my window and noticed that it was slightly open. I looked down into the backyard.
Smoke was pouring out from underneath the closed lid on the grill. It looked like something was tied around the handles in order to keep it shut. I ran downstairs to the patio door. I opened it and held the gun in front of me. The smell of something burning was making me sick to my stomach. Something was crying out inside of the grill, frantically trying to get out. My heart sank as I realized that it was Feivel’s collar tied around the handle.
I screamed and grabbed the hose and turned it on. I lunged for the lid of the grill and I burned my hands as I tore away the collar from the handles.
I threw the top to the grill open and sprayed the hose inside. Feivel leapt out of the grill and down onto the brick patio. I soaked him with the hose. A belt had been tied around his muzzle. I ripped it off of his face and kept the water on him.
I turned to look back at the house. I didn’t want to leave him, but I realized that I had left my phone upstairs. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but then I had a hard time making any sound when I saw what was on the patio table. There was a bottle of whiskey on it with two glasses that had already been poured. There was a note on the table.
“It’s Friday Night! Time to BBQ!”
There was also something else on the table. A small fake rock. James and I had always kept it hidden amongst the other rocks in the backyard.It had a small compartment on the underside where we kept a spare key to our house. Stephen was in our house.
I looked back down to Feivel. I was left with the awful decision of having to leave my dog. He was gasping for air, but he was still alive. I had to get to Casey to make sure she was safe.
“Feivel, I’m sorry!” I left the hose laying across him and I ran back inside.
As I ran up the stairs, I saw that Casey’s door was closed and as I reached out for the knob, I heard a familiar noise coming from my room. The sound of a rocking chair. I cracked open Casey’s door and I could see that she was still asleep in her bed.
“Kaaaatheriiiiine…”
I closed the door and held the gun in front of me as I walked into my room.
The man I knew as Stephen was rocking in my husband's chair, wearing my husband’s clothes, and holding a house key that only myself and my husband knew about.
“I’ve missed you so much.” I raised the gun without saying a word. My hand was shaking. He was smiling and rocking back and forth. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
“Goodbye Stephen.” I pulled the trigger and nothing happened but a dry snap. I pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened.
“If you held that thing more often, you could probably tell that it’s just a little heavier when it has bullets in it.”
I lunged for my bedside table and pulled the drawer open. The small box of bullets was gone.
“I unloaded it while you were asleep.” He stood up. I ran for Casey’s door, but he caught me before I could open it. I felt his hand go over my mouth and he picked me up by my shoulders. I struggled as he carried me closer to the top of the stairs.
“I’ve watched you sleep for so many nights now, just wondering how I could get you back. But I think there might not be any saving of what we had.” He hit me across the face and threw me down the stairs.
I heard my ankles snap when I hit the floor, and I screamed. His footsteps were quiet as he started walking down the stairs.
“We could have had a life together. I really wanted that. I even put something on the grill, but then you went and ruined that too.”
“Mommy?!” Casey had run out of her bedroom and was at the top of the stairs looking down on us. Stephen was just a few steps away from me. I started to crawl along the floor toward the kitchen.
“Go back to your room Casey. You’re mother and I are fighting.”
“Casey! Get Mommy’s phone and call for help!” I screamed, as I pulled myself along the floor and into the kitchen. All I could think of was getting to the block of knives.
“Where do you think you're going off to? Wait, I know…”
Stephen ran around me and to the kitchen counter. He picked up the block of knives and spilled them on the floor. “Come and get ‘em Katherine.”
He walked back over and stood over me while I crawled toward the knives. He was laughing.
“To think, if someone hadn’t killed your husband, none of this would have happened.”
I tried to shut his voice out of my head as I crawled forward. I was getting closer.
“You know the person who hit him did actually stop for a moment…just a moment…he opened his car door and almost ran over to help, but then something stopped him. Did you know that?”
He’s lying Kathering. Keep moving.
“I was there. If I close my eyes, I can still see the whole thing. If that guy had helped instead of just driving away, maybe James would have survived and what I’ve had with you and Casey… all that would never have been.”
I was right in front of the pile of knives. I reached out and then he stomped on my hand. I felt bones break. He leaned down, grabbed me, and turned me over to look at him. He was crying.
“I still think it was destiny that brought us together, but I was wrong about you. You don’t have any place in our family. Me and Casey. I’m going to take her far away from here. She’s mine now.” Tears were pouring out of his eyes and he was trying to blink them away, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
“Son of a bitch! Stop it! Stop it!” He rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “She’s mine now!”
I brought my knee up as hard as I could between his legs and he dropped me to the floor. He fell to his knees right next to me. I could hear sirens outside.
I reached out and grabbed the largest knife. I raised it over my head, but before I could swing it down, he grabbed my wrist and started to squeeze. I felt my grip start to loosen and I was afraid that I was going to drop the knife. He started to laugh as the sirens were getting closer.
“Looks like it’s time we get things over with.”
I felt his body slam against mine, and at first I had no idea what had happened, but then Stephen began to scream and I could hear Feivel growling behind him.
Feivel had managed to fit his jaws around the back of Stephen’s neck and buried his teeth to the gums. He was pulling Stephen away from me; blood poured down either side of his throat.
I tightened my grip on the knife and I pushed it into Stephen’s stomach over and over and over again. Feivel eventually let go of Stephen, and as I continued to plunge the knife into the mushy mess I had made, my dog limped over and started to whimper.
As Stephen lay there gasping for breath, I stared at his eyes. They were staring back at me and he was no longer weeping. I felt crazy, but his eyes looked kind. They looked happy.
-
“How are you feeling now?” I remember the detective had this perfect voice. A Paul Winfield voice. Had the things he was about to tell me weren’t so terrible, I would probably only remember how beautiful that voice was.
“I can’t walk, but they’ve got me so drugged up that I don’t mind very much. I’m going to be able to go home tomorrow. Or…to my mother’s at least.”
“How’s your daughter doing?”
“She’s good. She’s staying with my mother.”
“I hear that hero dog is going to pull through.”
I smiled. Tears started coming up thinking of Feivel sitting somewhere without me while he was going through all this.
“He’s not going to be a hundred percent, but he’s going to have a good life. He deserves it.”
“Ok. Now for the unpleasant stuff. We finally got some answers on who this guy is. Was, excuse me. His name is Joshua Linder. He’s been keeping a small apartment only a mile away from your house for the last three years. It looks like he’s been watching you the whole time. All kinds of things all over his apartment.”
“Did he kill James?”
“No. He couldn't have. Up until three years ago he lived across the country from you. Even then, there was no way he was driving the car that killed your husband. He was legally blind.”
“What?”
“Not completely blind, but may as well have been. That is his connection to you, and to your late husband I’m afraid.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You said he knew things he shouldn’t have right?”
“Yes.”
“Where the spare key was, um… certain things you shared with your late husband, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Katherine, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. You are aware that your husband was an organ donor, were you not?”
“Yeah.”
“It seems that uh… Mr. Linder was the recipient of your husband’s corneas after your husband passed. Now how he found out about you, we have no idea. There’s some kind of phenomenon that’s called cellular memory that frankly I think is…”
He kept talking, but the only thing on my mind were Stephen’s eyes.
-
My little family of three moved far away from home. We now have a house next to my husband’s parents where Casey can get to know her father’s parents and Feivel can go on walks with me while I pull him in his wagon when he gets too tired. I try not to think too much of what happened, but I still have trouble sleeping.

Hello, so as I said, i am 14 male and i have been having sudden Vision problems. (This is a throwaway account)
Last year after 2 years of lockdown, i went to school and saw I couldn't properly see the backboard from the back or even the middle of the class. So i went for a checkup and around the month of May, i was diagnosed with -2 power in both eyes and cylindrical (don't know what that means). Then everything was fine with new glasses and in SeptembeOctober i rechecked my eyes and was said that my power did not change. But this time it was to create a new pair of glasses and the check up was not done by an expert, but (i am in India and the brand of the glasses was from a company named Lenskart , a very popular and good eyeglass company) the company is a very good one and their products are used nationally. I was thinking maybe they did something wrong with the glasses and that's why my problems happened?
Regardless, afterwards, i started solely wearing the new pair and around November -December i rolled eme eye to the corner and saw a small spot. It wasn't all black, more pinkish and kind of reflected and i could only see it when I shook my head. This happened in both eyes.
Overall , these are the following problems:
•Then I noticed that these two spots were getting bigger. But the were not like anything i could come across on the internet and my only conclusion is that they are a buildup of the gel like virteous membrane that covers the eye or something? They are kind of reflective and l can't really properly describe them.
They look like this , my best impression at least. https://imgur.com/a/Tdt1QL4
Then I noticed that if I strain my eyes upwards i see two circles in each eye, much paler but the same thing. [Doctor couldn't say anything specific about my eyes. He said dismissively about my eye layers not being equal or something but didn't really give me any prescription)
•Then I noticed I'm seeing Eye Floaters one day and they aren't really visible except when I'm outside on a sunny day. (Confirmed by a doctor)
•Then I noticed I'm seeing double vision. First it was only without glasses and it has gotten to the point that a single thin rod at a distance of about 5 steps from me appears as 2 prominent different ones with three more vague ones. And I've started seeing them even with my glasses. [Confirmed by doctor]
•And I've noticed that if even the slightest bit of bright light falls on my eyes, there is a long Afterimage which lasts for quite some time(or i think it's long because I think I'm getting a bit paranoid)
•And to top all of this off with a cherry on top, i have astigmatism (i think?) Because its the textbook streams of light . Exactly like the pictures astigmatism victims share. [This happened very recently so a doctor hasn't confirmed it yet]
So, am i going blind? A specialist my mother talked to on the phone about my symptoms said that these were a combination of various problems all at once and unfortunately I can't go to a doctor for at least two another weeks so i was hoping anybody from you can help me out? I tried to put in as much information as I could, but if you think it's right please ask me about anything.
Any help is greatly appreciated.

I have a few slashes , box stock class, mod class and I’m currently trying to make a custom long travel 2wd slash using the MB/baad racing RC long travel kit front & rear.
Need recommendations on the chassis & shocks so far ..
LCG chassis or regular (HCG) chassis ?
Use rear 2wd slash shocks(100mm) on all 4 corners or buy some 110 or 120mm shocks?

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

Things to keep in mind.

• Oldest son is high functioning autistic, he still has issues with change, breaks in routine, loud noises. Sees things very plainly.
• When on good terms, we would be over any time S/O had off work. Mini day road trips with MIL. Constant random gifts for MIL... small and large. She's been remodeling and we would buy things she wanted, but wouldn't justify buying herself.
• S/O family is a weird matriarchy. If you are male you are lower than human in their family.

4 years ago my S/O and I got together, his mother would call me every day and talk for hours. Her heartbreak, relationships in the family, what was happening with her work, anything and everything. A couple months later spend the first Christmas Eve with his family, and it just decimates my traditions, with my sons, and they are thoroughly upset. future SIL says "these things happen" At that Christmas his sister plainly tells me I need to leave my career and start thinking about children with S/O, that kinda sets the tone with interactions with her. Everything is still kosher other than snide comments and little lies we catch his mom and sister in. Occasional shitty comments from his cousins that I'm sure were to make me uncomfortable.
Halloween comes along, at his aunts house with the entire family. MIL leaves. S/O goes to have a nap in the front living room, cousins and aunt start shit talking S/O and his mother. Saying she's sleeping with her first cousin and how messed up their babies would look if she wasn't barren now. Saying S/O is a POS and has always been a POS. Sleeping with all their friends and then not pursuing relationships. I start losing it, politely... "oh, that's interesting, I remember the story of you, Male cousin1, getting excited when your cousin, Female cousin1, grew into her breasts" Both cousins are mortified. Turn to female cousin2 "I also remember that you slept with Male cousins's friend *insert three guy friends she slept with*" I continue this around the circle. We end up leaving not long after. SHIT HITS THE FAN. Aunt and cousins go to MIL and say I was talking shit(I was); bringing up my comment on Male cousin1 being sexually excited by Female cousin1's breasts, and so forth but conveniently leaving out their nastiness. I try to tell MIL and I am demonized.
So we skip Thanksgiving at his Aunts and have it at home. Drama ensues. I have major surgery removing a nipple and breast tissue around mid december. Christmas Eve is coming so we try to consolidate their traditions with mine and my sons. We normally do The Feast of the Seven Fishes. Boiled it down to just the pasta. We also have the tradition of opening christmas jammies, they get a new christmas mug, a new christmas movie, and we sit down and watch the movie with homemade hot chocolate, in bed by 9pm. Their christmas party starts at 6. So we are only doing the pasta at home and hot chocolate there. Pasta sauce burns. Get there and instead of using the stove they put me in the back room with a crockpot to try to make hot chocolate from scratch. SIL's youngest keeps climbing all over me. I ask BIL to watch nephew because he keeps hitting my breast. No one is watching him. S/O checks on me and I am done. My breast is weeping, and I'm in excruciating pain. He goes and tells MIL that dinner the 26th might not happen, but she's still due to come over in the morning, christmas morning. She loses her cool, goes sobbing to SIL. SIL comes in holding her 1yo and ready to box. Screaming inches from my face. MIL and SIL proceed to scream in front of the children how evil I am and I am after S/O for his money... He had no money. Anything and everything a toxic in-law could say, came out. We finally go home, S/O and I argue all night, kids wake up and open presents slowly. S/O and I go upstairs to nap and wake up to him having missed calls from MIL and SIL saying I must be keeping his phone from him and that they were on their way to check on him. He calls back and says not to show up after everything they pulled the night before, they pull in about then and try to FORCE their way into my home. I tell them I will call the police and they proceed to scream outside my home how demented I am, I am stealing him away from his family, he needs to leave me and the children because they aren't his kids, I am using him to support the kids, how could he turn his back on his family, that I was faking my breast issues. They finally leave and S/O and I are just drained. HE STILL GOES to the 26th to open presents with SIL and MIL, I deep breathe through it. On his way home, he's on the phone with me and his mom is blowing him up "come to the casino with me" "we can just go drive with music on" "you need to take a break, we don't need to talk about anything, just drive" He tells her he is going home to his family and that's that. More drama ensues, they blow me up, to which I reply that she if she's upset about her christmas being ruined she'll be upset about missing every holiday, birthday, and such moving forward. We stuck to that missing NYE, MIL and SIL birthdays, anyone else's birthday, mother's day, July 4th. We found out after christmas one of the reasons I was in so much pain was my sutures weren't dissolving and my breast was infected.
Here's the kicker, we find out I'm pregnant around may-June and decide to try to smooth things over with the caveat from the kids that she isn't allowed at the house. Which is fair, she invaded their space and tried to tear apart their family and won't apologize to anyone about it. July comes around and we are invited to Male cousin1's birthday, we show up to SIL's house, having called saying it was important, prior to the party, with a bottle of wine and a note that read "pairs well with being an aunt" Her and her husband pull up behind us and she gets out of her truck looking to fight and I hand her the bottle, she reads the note, handful of emotions cross her face, she starts crying. She's already told MIL that S/O was coming over. She decides to stir that pot, because we swore her to secrecy about being pregnant, by telling MIL that we are moving out of state and needed to store furniture or something outlandish like that. MIL and S/O share a phone plan, that he pays for but is in her name. She removes him as an authorized user, but SIL convinces her not to turn off the phone, which was MIL's goal. We go to Male cousin1's party with baby balloons in hand (we got permission beforehand to steal some of the spotlight) and announced I'm pregnant with everyone there. MIL had been ignoring us, now breaks down saying we are taking her grandchild away and how could we be so cruel. We tell her we aren't moving, that SIL was messing with her. That we are trying to move forward.
MIL comes to 4D sonograms to see baby's face. Is the first person outside of us to see baby's face. We do family Halloween, stay home for Thanksgiving, and stay home for Christmas Eve, Go to Dinner the 26th for family christmas, everything is alright. There's cheek turning and deep breathing, but we were trucking. We invite MIL to Tennessee for baby's first christmas, before he is born. The idea of meeting my family half way so no one misses out, she's for it until SIL isn't invited. We get MIL birthday gifts in january. Baby comes in feb. is moved to nicu for week. S/O is at work when Baby is set to be released, offers MIL to go with me to get him. She is the first person to meet our boy. Gave him his first bath. She's in love. It slowly becomes glaringly obvious she doesnt care for our oldest two like she does her blood grandchild. Oldest two ask to garden with her, we go over and she has S/O wire her spa, ignoring the kids. They ask for time with her, ignored. They ask to make cookies with her like their cousins get to, she declines. They ask to go riding with her, another time maybe. Birthdays come around and oldest wants to see new jurrasic movie with her, she asked what can she buy him instead. All the while, when we call to ask her what she's up to in the car and she knows she's on speaker with everyone, she will brag about making cookies with the cousins or how they have been staying the "night" all week. Middle childs birthday comes around and asks again to come riding with her, she asks what can she buy him. S/O asked for her to have a birthday party at her house for middle child as a birthday present to S/O. MC AND SO's birthday are on consecutive days. She says yes. We show up the night before to start prep. SIL shows up around 6pm with her two hellish kids and lets them lose in the house while she hides on the porch. She doesnt leave until 2am, keeping us and our kids awake. MIL had invited us to stay overnight. We get up in the morning having not achieved half of what we should have the day before. Between us and our kids watching hers. SIL is over shortly after with the kids again making snide comments about how its a circus and every time she looks at us all she hears is circus music and again hiding outside while her kids destroy everything in sight. Birthday party was ROUGH, but our son appreciated it. SIL was left with cheese dip, came back and it was ruined in the crockpot with the excuse it must have been the quality of the cheese I bought. Birthday candles disappeared, a friend of mine helped search, no one had an alternative. MIL said "I don't keep candles" We start cleaning up. I leave her home cleaner than I found it. Kitchen, bathroom, living room scrubbed. Even set up her robot vacuum to run on a schedule, because she couldnt figure it out and was bummed about not being able to use it. We are about to leave and she disappears to her neighbors house and brings back a cheesecake. Says that I took too long on middle childs cake and she had planned to bring out the cheesecake, CANDLES, and celebrate S/O's birthday. Our friends that were there are convinced that they sabotaged the birthday in hopes we'd fight and they'd get S/O for his birthday.
We do family Halloween, both parties. Skip Thanksgiving. December hits, we start trying to figure out christmas eve. Ask if its okay to stay christmas eve because she lives nextdoor to the grandmothers house where their family party is held. We live 45 minutes from his mother and can't achieve the traditions in place since before my kids were born and theirs unless something gave. Could I use her kitchen to make a simplified version of the seven fish and the kids hot chocolate and her couch for movies. Intially S/O was overzealous and asked to stay for like 4 days because it was the first time in months he wasnt working 6 days a week and MIL had been begging for a while for us to come stay a weekend. S/O thought she'd be on board for the christmas magic. Baking cookies, first christmas handprint ornaments, the whole shebang. Baby's first christmas and likely the Oldest's last christmas believing in Santa. She said "no" not a soft no, but an are you batshit crazy, no. S/O kept trying to negotiate down to having a camp out christmas eve in the backyard in all weather tents and use of her kitchen. A resounding no to everything. "No one would want an entire family staying in their house on Christmas." She makes clear she still expects us at Christmas Eve, we tell her we tried and we are staying home.
At this point, I'm upset. I know my family would wade a river of glass to have us and their grandchildren in their homes on christmas. Tried to convince us to make the drive up, but 4 days isnt enough time to travel 3600miles round trip and enjoy any sort of holiday.
Christmas Eve comes, we are having a good time, kids are winding down to bed. Make cousin1 calls " hey, where are you guys?" we explain. He tells us MIL is there telling everyone she doesn't know where we are, how upset she is that we didn't come again, and is crying. S/O is slow burning upset. We leave it, we are supposed to see her the 26th. Christmas morning we post pictures and call MIL. She tells us christmas at her house is canceled, that she didn't want to talk about it. S/O asks her if she is having christmas without us, 15 minutes later his sister messages him saying "what did you think would happen" and blows up about us not showing up to any holidays or anything. We went to Easter, baby showers, her kids birthday, mother's day, cousin's birthday's, halloween, and tried to figure out christmas. We throw our hands up, whatever. We let the kids know we weren't going over to gma's, just like that. "hey guys, we aren't going to gma's tomorrow. Something's come up" Oldest starts crying because he's not slow "She's selfish just like our dad." says he wants nothing to do with her. We need space. We'll reconvene after the new year. We drop our presents to MIL and SIL and her family outside MIL's house while they have christmas without us. MIL starts in. S/O messages everyone saying he's done talking and he needs space. SIL starts in that she didn't ruin christmas, she shouldn't be punished. When that gets her nowhere with SO, starts in on calling me names. MIL states how before me if she called and was upset he would drop everything and just show up at her house. She wanted him to drop everything Christmas day and go running to her because she was upset... We have every year offered to be at her house christmas day, but she declines. Rich and Aunt inform us MIL is upset she isn't allowed in our home still, but has not tried to make amends with the kids aside from maybe MC birthday party, but that was more a favor to S/O. Doesn't believe she should apologize to them.
That is the saga bringing us to now. We dropped off a birthday present to his mom and her birthday, she is still on our facebook, but we are loving from a distance. His sister called the day after her birthday and S/O didn't answer. He's over me being attacked when things don't go their way. He's over the micro aggressiveness.
We have turned our cheeks on a lot. Like our oldest having a rough week from testing and her wanting us to visit, we asked if the hellish cousins were there and explained it was a bit much for the oldest at the moment and he couldn't handle the noise and chaos. She said they weren't there and he could relax in the side bedroom if he wanted. 45 minutes later we pull up and she has gone and gotten the kids! Oldest starts to tear up, but plays with them because he does love them. We wrap it up quickly and leave. All of us playing with our new baby and they do a horsey knee bouncing song and told me it was solely their families and I said we had one in my family too and sang it for them to which his sister replied "Well, isn't that some corn f*cking hick shit" Any gifts S/O says I have picked out, we have seen hidden in the back of cabinets, closets, never being used. We go over and she shoos the kids into the play room at all times. After all of this we have his cousins telling us I haven't been liked from day one, MIL and SIL have done nothing but run their mouths. We stopped by Male cousin1's the other day and started talking about us going to family easter at one of the cousins houses, because its about the kids and they asked if we could go and just not talk to gma and Auntie. Male cousin1 brought it around to MIL and was defending MIL and said "They aren't her grandchildren and aren't your kids" SO replied "They are my sons". Male cousin1 "I guess after 4 years you could view it that way" We then find out MIL has given Male cousin1 all of the christmas gifts, we gave her, for him to return... Not to us, but the store. After Male cousin1's comments, SO wants to cut him out as well. There is so much more that happened in the in-between. I could go on and on.
I know there are two sides to everything, but his entire family except one or two seem to think we are are in the wrong. Coming from all side that the oldest two and I aren't SO's family. Aunts and cousins echoing that we are tearing the family apart. We are overwhelmed and don't know what to do, but maintain our boundaries. Is it normal for people to treat step-children/grandchildren/cousins like this?

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.

Technopathy, Omega (800): Omega grants a 10 mile range and greater capacity to overcome security. Most AI will fall apart before you with some effort. You could potentially tranfer your mind into a computer.
Lifting Yourself Up (-400): The powers you have gained here work just like an invisible muscle. Ignore them, and they will stagnate. But actively use and train them, and you will see just how far dedication can take you. And now, all other abilities in your repertoire gain the same potential. Exercising your powers will increase their strength, no matter of what nature they might be or how mighty they already are. Unlike normal exercise, where after a certain point further progress becomes simply impossible, you will always see the same gains if you keep on putting in the time and effort. Don't neglect you real muscles, though. Playing superman is only fun if you also look the part
Hypnos Gene* (300CP): That which does not kill you, makes you stronger. Of course depending on who you talk to this could easily be a load of bullshit, but some seem determined to prove it right. This is an incredibly rare gene, rarer than even the genes that bond the host with Progenitor and its derivatives. It works by killing the weaker cells through natural selection, leaving only the strongest to keep the organism ongoing and encouraging the reproduction of the better cells. However, keep in mind that this is an extremely slow process, so don't expect to take on giants for a good long time... but one day you could. Time will be your greatest ally with this... a very slow, but steady ally.
Supernatural Savant (-600): People have all sorts of talents. Some are good at sports, some have amazing voices, some are great at computer games, and some are ridiculously good at using their superpowers. Wait, scratch that, the last one is just you. You have an inborn talent for using any extraordinary abilities you might have in your arsenal, and coming up with new uses for them. In just a few weeks, you could go from only being able to use rudimentary telekinesis for the movement of small objects to creating barriers with it, easily shaping and moving gases and liquids, affecting things you cannot perceive with your senses, diverting and controlling energies such as lightning, and feeling your surroundings through telekinetic feelers. One might even wonder if the original power was capable of such feats, or if you invented them yourself. But there’s no need for wonderment: if you diligently train and experiment with your abilities, you will see yourself able to use them in ways impossible to grasp for any others, pushing both the power and yourself beyond their limits. So long as you are creative, the various tricks and specializations you invent this way will allow you to advance your power in ways beyond just raw strength, and perhaps topple even giants with the metaphorical sling
Misery Loves Company (-600): All the negativity you experience in life - all the fear, anger, and jealousy - are, as their name suggests, not something one would like to feel. At least not most of the time. In combat though, that bit of anger can mean the difference between staying down and losing or getting up again for one last round. In your case, said difference is far beyond mere mentality and adrenaline. As you feel more and more miserable, no matter what shape that misery might take, you will see yourself become hardier, in both mind and body. You’ll find enemy attacks registering less and less in your mind as you shrug off even the most gruesome injuries, ignoring the pain and soldiering ever onwards despite how they should normally hinder you. Even as a limbless wreck knocking on Death’s door, you would still find it in you to knock over your adversaries like a bowling pin and tear them to pieces with your teeth. Your wounds just make you fight all that harder, letting a weak teenager shatter bones like glass, and you become more in tune with your body and surroundings, seemingly dodging attacks on instinct you couldn’t have seen and moving with the grace of a martial arts master. This also affects your powers, as you are using all available resources to bash some heads in. Somebody who could scarcely lift a rock on a good day might just tear their foes in half, if they were cornered enough, and use their powers with a focus and skill they normally couldn’t have dreamed of.
Blood Type + (Discount Medic): You are a universal donor and receiver both with blood and plasma and produce much more lifeblood for such purposes without changes to your diet being required. You could give enough of each for eight guys without keeling over, receiving either from any creature that shares your form, and your blood has no shelf life allowing it to be stored indefinitely even in hot temperatures. You are also able to transfer exact copies of any powers or perks you possess via blood with the exact specifications entirely up to you. Abilities thus given to others will grow over time and with use. Note: Blood transfusion is not the only means to pass on any abilities via blood, if you just want to put a few drops in someone’s drink that works too.
This Single Dream [400 CP] The last thing Miracleman and Liz Moran were expecting when their daughter was born was for her to speak only minutes out of the womb, or for her to become the most advanced being in the universe before her first birthday. Your own children will see similar growth in their bodies, minds, and powers. They’ll inherit all of your powers, surpassing you as infants, and by the time they’re adults their abilities will vastly outstrip even that. This applies to any superpowers and natural abilities, as well as traits like strength and intelligence.
Miraculous Growth [600 CP] Following his attempted murder in orbit, Kid Miracleman flew below the radar for two decades under the guise of his secret identity, Johnny Bates. Despite barely using his powers at all during that time, they didn’t atrophy. Quite the opposite, in fact. Kid Miracleman grew so strong he was able to effortlessly beat Miracleman into unconsciousness. You see similar retention and growth in your strength in power. It never weakens through disuse, instead growing more powerful over time. This allows any kind of superpower to grow without limit.

I live the best part of my life online. It’s a sign of the times we live in, I guess. There are the mundane humdrum happenings that occur in our lives offline- the boring day to day droll occurrences that one can usually set their watch to, and then there’s the amazing things that we are lucky enough to witness via the screen usually glued to our hands. There’s no comparison, really. Content curated by professionals who are successful enough to have millions of followers watching every video and upvoting every hilarious meme, versus boring work and the strained relationship with our folks and loved ones? YouTube and social media wins that one in a landslide victory, in my opinion. Candy, or vegetables?
My job painting apartments is menial, lots of repetition. The only real variation is that every other apartment is mirrored opposite the ones next to it. Kitchen on the right, bathroom on the left in this one. Bathroom on the right, kitchen on the left in that one. Over and over again, ad infinitum. I dip the roller in paint, and apply it to a section of wall, dip the roller, apply it to another section of wall, over and over and over again until it’s quitting time. If I finish an apartment before it’s time to get off, there are plenty of others to move on to. Every… single… day. Six days a week.
Repetition is half of the formula to insanity, I say. One of, if not the ONLY thing that helps in keeping me sane is a decent signal on my phone and a single bluetooth earbud. Having some sort of dialog- whether that be listening to an entertaining YouTuber doing a let’s play, to channels that narrate Creepypastas- I find helps in the passage of time while working. It helps my mind wander while my body goes on autopilot, thus finding an hour long story by one of my favorite channels that I haven’t heard yet is like a gift from the content gods.
One of the longest work days I can remember was the day that my earbud fell out and landed directly in my paint bucket. I cursed the universe as I watched it sink. It happened early in the day too, so I was forced to weather the remaining six hours with nothing but my own thoughts and the sound of my paint roller smearing on the walls. I had lost the other earbud somewhere months ago, so it’s not like I had a spare one charging somewhere, and by the end of the day I resolved it by buying two brand new pairs so if something like that ever happened again, I’d have no less than three backups.
I decided to treat myself, buying a cutting edge and top of the line brand. When one uses a product for most of the day, every day, it helps to buy quality, because it’s not just at work that I use them. When I’m driving, washing dishes at home or doing household chores, or just grinding out levels on a video game, there’s always some audio going on in my ear. Listening to podcasts while I’m folding laundry, reviews for new games and movies while I’m walking the dog, ten interesting facts about *insert topic here* while I’m eating dinner. It just helps me get through my day. And my nights too, falling asleep listening to spooky stories has gotten to the point where if I forget to charge my phone or earbuds and one of them dies before I fall asleep, I might as well get back up for a bit while the battery charges.
It may sound weird to some people, trying to follow a narrative while also trying to fall asleep seems like it would be counterintuitive, but just like how some people need a fan or a TV going, there are thousands of us falling asleep to a soothing voice telling a macabre tale every night. Probably millions, given how the technology has evolved in prior years.
When I received an email saying I’d won a chance to test out the next step of that evolution, I ignored it. I hadn’t signed up for any contest or sweepstakes that I was aware of. Probably just spam, I thought. When the physical letter showed up in my mail stating the same, I took it a little more seriously, but eventually chalked it up to the spammers just being persistent. More junk mail. They got my email and were able to find an address that matched it, probably not that hard to do considering how many sites I’ve used that email to sign up for over the years. I was well aware that people leave a digital footprint, along with a treasure trove of data for advertisers and scammers alike. I always just chalked it up to the price of admission as I dropped the letter in my trash bin without even opening it. After a few weeks, all of my brushing off and ignoring what I thought was a scam culminated with a knock at my door.
“Why hello, sir. We represent ToxiCorp, and we understand that you recently purchased our product- two pairs of our Premium Earbuds?” the gentlemen asked. He was an older fellow, wearing thick coke bottle glasses and sandals. Before I could even answer though, he went on. “We’ve attempted to contact you via mail in regards to your most wisest of purchases. First off, we at the Toxi Corporation would like to sincerely thank you! And also congratulate you! You’ve won our annual November-a-thon giveaway!” he finished, taking an overdue and long breath.
That was how I found out that it wasn’t just spam. They had gotten my information when I had registered the product for the warranty, and unbeknownst to me, had thrown my name in the hat for their contest. The prizes I had to choose from included $500 cash, or free ToxiCorp earbuds for life, which included a free upgrade every time they put out a new product. While the cash offer was tempting, I decided that the latter offer would get me more bang for my buck. High end earbuds, like those made by ToxiCorp, weren’t cheap afterall. Plus, being able to upgrade and try out the latest models for free made it, in my eyes, the better of the two options.
I agreed, and after signing a plethora of documentation, not all of which I could understand and much less even read, he was on his way. Later that week they contacted me via phone about my first upgrade. It turns out, while the two pairs I had recently bought were the most expensive that my local retailer had to offer, they were by far not the most expensive and functional ones that the company offered. That first upgrade was like night and day compared to the so-called ‘top of the line’ ones I had purchased. The sound was crisper, they had better bass, a longer battery life, a further range for the bluetooth, everything about them was superior.
Then, still very much pleased with my upgraded earbuds, they contacted me about their newest pair. This pair upgraded everything, along with having noise canceling and the ability to make phone calls via a small mic inside of the earbud.
And it kept going, every month there was a new upgraded version that blew the latest one out of the water with better clarity and added functionality. My daily distractions of listening to content at work was never better. Gone were the days of bringing my phone with me from room to room as I painted, the bluetooth had crystal clear connectivity anywhere in the apartment. Hell, I could leave my phone charging in my car outside and the signal would pick up through spans of parking lots and brick walls. The snug form fitting cushion in my ear ensured that they never fell out on accident, yet wasn’t intrusive. I could go on and on, singing praise for the innovation and quality that the good people at ToxiCorp were doing with their wide line of audio products. Until that is, they hit me with their latest upgrade.
I should have known something was off when they asked me to come to their R&D department for this latest upgrade. All I was told was that this newest iteration was still in the ‘experimental’ stage of development. Previously, they had always simply mailed the newest model straight to me. I simply chalked up this break in protocol to the fact that this one was still in the prototype stage. I had already decided that whatever it was, I wanted it. I was even excited that they decided to include me in testing whatever it was that they had cooked up. Boy, was I stupid.
I arrived at their facility and was greeted by their team of engineers. They led me to a small lobby and gave me refreshments while I waited, and that was the last thing I remembered. When I woke up, I was in a recovery room with bright fluorescent lights blinding me, and a litany of rhythmically beeping medical machines monitoring my vitals. I felt groggy as hell, and as I reached up to feel why the side of my head was throbbing I felt swollen flesh molding around stitches above and behind my right ear. They said that the nausea accompanied by the dizziness I felt was normal, and conducive to the operation they performed in and around my inner ear.
I was PISSED. When my complaints and threats finally summoned the head researcher, the very same old man who had come to my door to tell me I was a ‘winner’ walked into the room.
“What the hell!? How did I get here, and what the fuck is all this about some ‘procedure’!?” I yelled. “Did you people drug me? What kind of sick operation are you people running here?”
The old man merely smiled. “Nothing that you didn’t agree to. You gave us express permission when you signed our agreement.”
“Like hell I did!” I yelled. He produced a small remote and pointed it at me, pressing a button as I continued to yell. “¡Déjame salir de aquí y llamo a mi abogado!” I threatened. What the hell? I had yelled that in english, I clearly said “Let me out of here and I’m calling my lawyer,” and I had heard the english version in my other ear, but in my right ear, the ear that was throbbing and had been operated on, I heard what I assumed was spanish.
The scientist seemed pleased at the utter confusion that sank into my facial features. “Do you speak spanish?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He had really said “Habla espanol?”, I heard it with my untainted ear, but I also heard the english translation clear as day with the other.
I’ll admit, even though I was still utterly pissed about the situation, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little amazed.
“What… what else can it do?” I asked, my anger subsiding slightly.
His grin grew even wider. He came closer to show me the remote. It was something akin to an old iPod looking thing. He scrolled through a plethora of menus until he selected one labeled ‘Enhance Audio’. He then pointed it in the direction of two nurses conversing behind the other side of a large glass viewing window on the other side of the room. As soon as the remote was pointing in their direction, I could hear them.
“I can’t believe that prick stood you up like that, girl!” one said.
“He’s a loser anyway, I heard from Jenny that he isn’t even all that well endowed, if you know what I mean…” the other said, holding up her pinky finger which sent both of them into a giggling fit.
“Can you hear them? How clear is the audio?” the old man asked, pulling out a clipboard and pen seemingly from nowhere.
We ran a gauntlet of tests, trying out different features and modes, dialing in and fine tuning the settings. By the time we were finished, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore. I mean, I was still a little peeved. I had been tricked and drugged and operated on without my consent, I don’t care what the gibberish in my contract said, I felt violated. BUT… after all was said and done, I couldn’t help but feel like the benefits that the new implanted device offered were more than worth some shady and underhanded practices. I was kept in their facility for a couple of days for observation and more tests, compensated for my lost wages at my job, and given a prescription to fill- something to help with the pain while my body healed. They claimed it was ‘an astounding success!’, leaving me to wonder what would have happened if they had failed?
I went about my life, checking in with them via phone once a week, which I could now call and answer by merely thinking about it, thanks to their device. I could understand hundreds of spoken languages, I could hear conversations happening through brick walls with crystal clarity, and if it ever got too much I could always just lower the settings, even mute certain frequencies. Despite their underhanded techniques and the violation of my own body, my rage in them had subsided and became some more like a perturbed annoyance. They had drugged and operated me without my knowing consent, sure, but I was beginning to come around. Hell, I would have even said I came out like a thief, definitely better off than I had been.
Then, I began having the dreams.
My dreams since they had installed this thing in my head have been so vivid. Dreams that seem so real, almost like I was awake, but not in control. Like watching yourself sleepwalk. I have vague memories and impressions when I wake up, remnants of whatever cycles my subconscious mind rolls through when I’m out. In one, I only remember being told by some authority figure that I needed to go out to the corner store and buy a certain brand of potato chips. My socks were wet when I woke up the next morning, and my blood chilled when I stepped outside only to notice that it had indeed rained the night before. When I checked my bank statement, there had been a purchase at 2:46 AM for the amount of $3.46 that I didn’t remember. Hell, I had been asleep at that time. So I WAS sleepwalking, along with sleep purchasing and god only knows what else.
They kept happening. Always single mindedly compelled to complete some seemingly menial or meaningless task. I tried sleeping pills, when that didn’t work I tried caffeine pills to stay awake. When I eventually did crash and pass out they continued. I even tried getting blind drunk, and while I don’t remember having any vivid dreams or sleepwalking episodes, my bank account and transaction history begged to differ. I guess I was just too blackout drunk to remember, but it hadn’t stopped me.
Last night was the most surreal one yet. I went to this bench out at the park a couple of blocks away. When I got there, I reached beneath it, obtaining the gun that I somehow knew would be there. That’s when everything became fuzzy. I try and try to remember what else happened, but it’s a blur of blue and scarlet. When I heard there had been a shooting that killed 2 people down the street from my place, I could see their faces in my mind before the police released the photos of the victims. They had been a couple, out for a late night rendezvous. A man of average looks and build and his sweetheart, who’s blue eyes burned holes into my soul through the TV screen as they glared at me accusingly. For an instant when their photos were on the screen, I remembered seeing those blue eyes looking at me, pleading and full of fear, and then… a scarlet plume of blood as the bullet mangled her beautiful face beyond recognition…
That was when the realization finally hit home for me. I did it. I killed that couple. Somehow, in a nocturnal venture in my slumber, I had murdered them. I thought I was going crazy! That’s not me, not something I would ever in the slightest consider, much less actually do. A piece of me died that day- my innocence, I think.
I did what any decent human being in my situation would do, I resolved to turn myself in. If somehow I was becoming some crazed maniac in my sleep, the smartest thing to do would be to turn myself in, lest I somehow manage to harm more innocent people.
I went out for a good steak dinner, probably the last decent meal I’d ever get to eat before my last meal on death row someday. It was the most delicious meal I ever remember eating. I savored every little bite. Finished with my meal, I tipped several hundred dollars to my waitress- my last good deed that I knew would never make up for the harm I had caused, the lives I had taken. I took a cab to the police station, ready to own up and meet my fate. That’s when I heard it. A voice echoing minutely in my ear.
“Don’t do it,” it said. And suddenly, I found that I couldn’t. I stood there for a long time, trying to take that step up to the door, the voice repeating the command incessantly. It commanded and I obeyed. Its hooked tendrils were sunk in deep, and I was compelled to do as it said. That voice was familiar, I realized. It was the same voice that had greeted me when I opened my door that day. The same voice I heard after the surgical implant was unwillingly installed, trespassing in my brain. The same voice of the head of research and development. The friendly voice of ToxiCorp.