Us cellular mcalester ok tandy town

Hi all, continuing my writing improvement journey today. Any and all feedback would be appreciated on the below opening chapter.
Would you read more, does it read well, is the pacing ok, etc?
[2.5k words]
Anything is super helpful! TIA
(Apologies for any formatting issues).
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[Chapter 1] – The beginning of the end
Olarte crumpled to his knees, wincing as the sharp edges of the cave's rocky floor cut into his flesh. There was probably an easier way of doing this, he thought. A hot humid breath pressed on his neck, stark in contrast to the coolness of the cave.
“G-Get up.”
A strong hand clamped down on Olarte's shoulder, his muscles tensing under the pressure. He shrugged, trying to shake off the grip.
"I've already told you," Olarte said, flinching as the man shoved him. "I'm not going to do anything. I'll help you find it, Son of Maheraf." The stalactites above dripped water, creating a soothing rhythm like a heartbeat. An aroma of damp earth hung in the air. Tunnels led off in every direction, making it seem as if the cave stretched on for miles. The ground uneven, with jagged rocks and stones jutting out.
Despite its intimidating appearance, the cave brought a strange comfort to Olarte. It felt like sinking into a cushion in front of a roaring hearth, a warm bowl of stew on a cold winter's evening, or a comforting embrace from a loving mother.
“Are you alright?” a voice spoke out of the darkness. The words were soft, brushing along the cave walls with care and thought. Olarte smiled and turned his head to see a number of purple crystals glowing, almost pulsating along the floor. “I'll be fine. Although I'm afraid our time has come, my dear.”
“Who are you speaking to?” The Son of Maheraf spat, his words hit the cave walls like a handful of rocks. “What language are you speaking?”
Olarte hadn't spoken in his native tongue for so long that he hadn’t realised he was speaking it. "I'm saying a prayer to the cave to protect us from harm.” he replied. "To keep us safe. You do want to be protected, don't you?" He’ll fall for anything superstitious, they all do.
The captor glared at him. "O-of course.” The man rolled up his sleeves. Clearly trying to present a tough aura. One hand hovering over his swords handle. “Go on then, get on with it."
Olarte pushed himself up, his knees aching as he brushed a thick layer of dust and blood from his trousers. He stepped forward carefully avoiding the glowing crystals lining the floor, their eerie light turning the shadows a deep purple. He bent down, reached out and ran his fingers over one of the crystals, finding comfort in its cool, smooth surface. “We must open The Crystal, my dear,” he said softly.
“Are you stalling?” the captor said, returning a grip on Olarte's shoulder. “No, no, of course not,” Olarte replied quickly, turning to face the captor. “All part of the blessing.”
The captor snorted. “Don’t take me for a fool, Olarte, I-I’m warning you.”
“Charming one this friend of yours, Olarte.” The voice from the shadows hushed tone echoed softly. “Is it really time to open it?”
Olarte glanced at the captor.
“Don't worry, he can't hear me.” The voice let out a sigh that seemed to caress the cave walls. “I’d have a few things to say to your friend if he could.”
Olarte's face straightened. “It is time. It must be done. The Fifth Moon is in the night sky. As we planned, my dear, we must act before The Sixth Moon.”
“And this man, is he the right one to share the truth with?”
“Yes, my dear. He's the Son of Maheraf, leader of Remmus. Maheraf will listen to his son, and the people of Remmus will listen to Maheraf.”
“How did you get him to come here?”
“Well, my dear. A rumour may have spread around town that a certain smuggler has hidden some treasure in these tunnels.” Olarte grinned. “You know how these high-ranking officials love their wealth.”
“Yes, I could see you as a smuggler, Olarte.” The voice’s chuckle softened the walls. “Very well, I trust you. I shall light the way.” The dripping from stalactite stopped, a blanket of silence draped over the cave. “This is what we've worked for. This is how we'll be remembered, Olarte. This is the beginning of the end.”
“Move.” The captor gave Olarte another shove. “I think we’re done with the offerings.” The silence lifted, the dripping returned, and the crystals drew a path towards one of the tunnels at the far end of the cavern.
Olarte led the way through the twisting, narrowing tunnel, his eyes fixed on the glowing purple crystals illuminating the path. "The tunnels here are treacherous. Follow me closely so you don't lose your way."
His captor scoffed. "A-Are you sure you've remembered the way correctly?" The man looked at the three tunnel entrances ahead. "It could be down any of these tunnels." "It's down this one. I can see The Light," Olarte smiled.
"What light?" The man looked around. "All I see is my lantern."
"No, no. Son of Maheraf. I see The Light." "Wait. You're a Light Seeker? Like those creatures from the tales?" He chuckled. “Sure, and I’m off to dinner with Lady Lucinda this evening, with her solid gold boots.”
Olarte smiled, not because he knew the truth but because he remembered hearing the tale of Lady Lucinda from his brother when he was younger. Simpler times... what I’d give to hear his storytelling once more. "All tales have to start somewhere. All start with some truth." Olarte pulled his coat around him more tightly moving deeper into the tunnels, the walls closing in around the two men. The sound of dripping water was now a distant echo. "It won't be much longer. The treasure you seek is close at hand."
“It had better be worth it.”
Olarte raised his hands, the line of crystals rose from the floor hovering gracefully at eye-level. “Oh, I think you’ll find it’s worth it.”
The Son of Maheraf flinched at the words "Mercy of Remmus," his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. If the moon had been visible from inside the cave, his face would have matched its pallor.
"Oh, don't fear Son of Maheraf. Not all Light Seekers are like the tales." "So. Th-This treasure, it's not gold and jewels, is it?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
Olarte descended further into the tunnels, the air grew colder, the scent of damp earth thickened. Olarte led the way through the twisting and narrowing walls. During each tight squeeze, the tunnel echoed with the sounds of grunts and the clatter of loose stones. Eventually, the crystal pathway faded to a small hole at the end of the tunnel.
"You're not s-serious, are you?" The man stuttered, looking at the hole in disbelief.
"After you." Olarte gestured towards the small hole. It was the perfect size for a man to fit through. Just one man. Not a well-fed man.
The captor rolled his eyes and cursed. "Tell me first. The t-treasure. What is it?"
"It's a book." Olarte bent down and picked up a small rock. He wrapped his fingers around the subtle indentations. "A book wealthy in knowledge." He snapped the rock in half. "A book that tells of the past, the present, and the future." He broke it into quarters. "A book that will decide the fate of Remmus." Olarte let the four pieces of rock fall to the ground.
"Th-That all sounds rather...rather important." The man rubbed his sweaty palms on his shirt. "I-I think I'll leave this treasure to you, my friend." He took a few steps back before breaking out into a run.
"Oh, I'm afraid it's not a choice, Son of Maheraf." Olarte raised both hands. As he did, a purple wall of crystal blocked off the Son of Maheraf's escape. "You must read the book. You are The One Reader. You are the one destined for its truths."
The captor pulled out his sword and swiped it at the crystal wall. The steel blade broke in half, falling to the floor. A metallic ringing bounced around the tunnel, causing some of the ceiling to break away. Olarte shielded his head. I'd be surprised if he didn't try that. I'd have done the same. The man fell to his knees and stared at Olarte.
"W-What is this magic?" He held the two parts of his sword it each hand observing the terrific neatness of the split.
"All your answers are inside this Book." Olarte gestured towards the man-sized hole once more. "Now, please, after you."
The Son of Maheraf stumbled towards the hole, mouth gaping. His eyes darting between the crystal wall, the broken blade, and Olarte. Lying flat on his belly, he pulled himself through, grunting as the sharp rocks tore at his clothes.
Olarte followed. Through the other side he emerged from the narrow passage, entering a vast chamber. At its center stood a colossal crystal pulsating with a lavender purple hue, casting a surreal glow illuminating every corner of the room. It rose from the ground, towering over them like the summit of an iceberg or the peak of a mountain, its size rivaling that of a ship tilted on its stern.
The air filled with a sweet fragrance, reminiscent of honey and tulips on the first warm day of spring. Delicate chimes echoed throughout the chamber, dust in the air dancing and shimmering in the crystal's enchanting light, casting a beautiful rainbow sparkle. The walls were encrusted with thousands of white crystals, each one glittering and twinkling in perfect harmony with the gentle chimes.
A ring of water encircled the chamber, emanating a soft, lapping sound resonating off the crystalline walls. It was as if the crystal at the center of the room had summoned the water, as if it were a natural extension of its ethereal presence. The water glimmered with a deep, cerulean blue, reflecting the vibrant purple of the central crystal and casting a surreal radiance across the entire room.
Olarte stood next to the Son of Maheraf at the water’s edge, their reflections distorted by the ripples. The water dancing and shimmering in time with the chimes, each one creating a mesmerising pattern of light and sound. The chiming was muted by the soft lapping of the water, creating a soothing melody that played through the chamber. Olarte gestured towards the water. “Step onto the water, Son of Maheraf.”
“I-I'm not sure about this.” He took a step back, his eyes darting around, hands fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt.
Olarte raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Not scared, are we?" he asked, tapping his foot. He glanced at the crystal and then back to the water, a scowl forming on his face as he waited for the Son of Maheraf to make a decision.
The Son of Maheraf bit his lip. "I-I... uh,"
Olarte rolled his eyes. "Just step onto the water," he gestured once more. "It's not going to hurt you.”
The Son of Maheraf took a deep breath, paused and walked onto the water. A glass-like bridge formed beneath his feet. Olarte followed, he could feel the surface rippling, humming out to the center of the room.
Olarte placed his hand on the Son of Maheraf’s shoulder. "Yes, it is quite remarkable, isn’t it?" He then nudged him forward.
The Son of Maheraf, didn’t take his eyes of the surface below. “What in the name of Remmus is this?”
"The bridge is made of a special material that responds to the presence of those who are worthy to enter this chamber. It's as if it can sense your intentions and your character. Light Magic, a wonderous thing that no one truly understands."
"But how does it do that?" he asked.
Olarte shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. It's one of the mysteries of this place. But I do know that it is a manifestation of the crystal's power. It can create and manipulate matter in ways that we can't fully understand."
“What do you mean create and manipulate?”
“Well, just as the bridge responds to your presence, Light Magic can also create other objects when it senses you need them.”
"R-Really? Like what?"
"Like the lectern and chair, for example." Olarte pointed towards an alcove appearing at the base of the crystal. "They are here for you to use as you read the book. The Light knows what you need and will provide it for you, no matter the situation."
“No matter the situation?”
“Well, as long as you know how to call it.”
“So, what you did back there, blocking off the tunnel, that was you calling The Light.”
“Calling, channeling, speaking. It’s known as many things. But yes.”
“H-How does one ‘call The Light’ then?”
"The Book, Son of Maheraf," Olarte gestured towards the alcove, where an ornate lectern awaited, adorned in intricate patterns of lines and symbols. Atop it rested a closed tome, beckoning with an air of mystique. Beside it, a chair of the same crystalline glass-like material, bearing the similar exquisite engravings sat awaiting its reader.
Olarte watched as the Son of Maheraf approached the lectern, who’s eyes were glued to the closed book sitting atop it. The intricate patterns on the lectern shimmering and shifting, as if alive, in the glow of the purple light from the towering crystal. The chiming grew louder, and the colors of the rainbow sparkles in the air intensified. The hum of the crystal seemed to grow stronger, pulsing through the room like the adrenaline of a beast preparing for the fight of its life.
The Son of Maheraf seemed to hesitate for a moment. He then reached out to take the book, his hand trembling. He perched on the armchair beside the lectern, the glass-like material creaking slightly beneath his weight. With a deep breath, he opened the book, and immediately, all the light in room intensified into a bright white glow.
[Chapter 2] — THE BOOK OF NIWRAD Welcome to the Book of Niwrad. You are reading this because there is a chance. One chance. That we can stop it all from happening. The past, the present and the future. And through this book, I will show you everything you need to know about how our world split into five.

By Fin
“Holy crap.” James Talbot stepped back from his handiwork. It was beautiful. It made him want to scream.
Talbot was a chemist, the modern form of an alchemist, and he’d discovered something as wondrous and terrible as the most extreme postulations of his forbearers.
This was it. The culmination of all his works. This is what he’d fought for decades for, why he’d abandoned connections with everyone he’d ever known. But now it was all worth it. He would reveal the Masterwork at the Grand Chemistry Convention. It would steal the show, and he would be revered beyond every other human being who had ever lived.
It had taken Talbot long enough to assemble the Masterwork that he’d shed the title of ‘young’, not to mention most of his non-gray hair. Although it was hard to tell whether that was from aging or from what he’d beheld in his long sojourn. He was only 45, after all, and the rest of his body still held firm from decades of outdoorsmanship.
Talbot stood before a wall, upon which was painted the most intricate design any human had ever seen. It was a diagram of… unknown things. A chart of runes, maps, and artfully painted lines. There was no text in any living language on the diagram, but the harmony within the full tapestry visually sang, imparting something unfathomable in a way that Talbot could somehow fathom. The man who’d made it, who’d studied it for 15 years, barely understood it himself. But he knew that it was the ultimate solution to the entirety of philosophy, containing the answers to every question humanity had ever seen fit to ask. It had existed in his notebook for a while, in bits and pieces, but today had been its first full assembly, and it was magnificent.
He had to keep it hidden, or someone would take it from him.
He retrieved a tarp and threw it over the wall, nailing it in at the top so it hung down to cover his designs. Just to be sure, he moved his desk to block the wall, then locked the door to his office when he left for the day. James Talbot was more excited than he had ever been, and he celebrated that night with a fireplace and a large bottle of whiskey.
Of all the people at his office to commit espionage, Talbot never would’ve suspected the night janitor. This may stem from the fact that he also never suspected the night janitor to be part of a massive secret organization dedicated to keeping humanity as ignorant as possible in matters of the Higher Order.
But no matter what Talbot suspected, Tim Willis was indeed part of this society, and after he’d entered Talbot’s office with his master key to do some routine cleaning, the obvious secrecy surrounding the wall at the back of the room worried him. So he moved the desk out of the way, lifted the tarp, and inhaled sharply.
This was bad. A tapestry of the Higher Order more complete than any he’d seen before, or any reported by the other Censors of the Agency for the Preservation of Humanity.
Willis quickly replaced the tarp and desk. As soon as he’d locked the room, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number for an Alexander Talc.
Talbot arrived the next morning with a song in his heart and a latte in his hand. The former died horribly as soon as he entered his office only to find someone sitting in his chair, and the latter died horribly as it fell from his fingers, limp in shock.
The person in question was a short, slight man who wore thick glasses and a dark gray suit. He was sitting on Talbot’s office chair, facing the now uncovered back wall with all of its eldritch calculations. Talbot’s desk had been moved to the side of the room, left askew with the tarp crumpled up on top.
As Talbot entered, the stranger spun the chair around so he was facing the chemist, a broad smile on his face. He was undeniably attractive, in a delicate sort of way.
“Ah! You must be the aspiring alchemist?” He spoke softly and cheerily, but with an unnerving edge. Talbot couldn’t identify any specific aspect of his voice that disturbed him, but upon further consideration he concluded that it was the incongruity of the situation, the warm friendliness of his tone grating against Talbot’s unease.
Talbot took a step back, shaken. “I don’t… what-”
“Quite an impressive display here. You’ve managed to glean a quite large amount of knowledge about the Higher Order, especially considering you’ve never consulted us at the APH.” He pronounced it phonetically, like Aff.
“What are you-”
Talbot heard a click from behind him, and turned to see Tim Willis, the night janitor, closing and locking his door. He could barely register the betrayal.
“Ah, yes. Tim is working for me. For us. The Agency for the Protection of Humankind really frowns upon anyone attempting to learn the Higher Order.”
Talbot, finally able to form a full sentence, asked, “What’s the Higher Order?”
“You know what it is, of course, although you may not have heard the term. It’s what we call the mechanics of the very fabric of the universe itself. The questions about ‘why are we here?’ and ‘is there a god?’ and all the stuff like that. All theoretical philosophy, basically. And you, apparently through sheer dumb luck,” He turned to admire the mural again, “have managed to find more of it than any human being ever, including us! Quite impressive. Big hand.” The man slow-clapped for Talbot. The small sweet-looking man being sarcastically condescending was jarringly incongruous.
Talbot felt a surge of anger, and it helped him produce a full sentence. “Dumb luck?!?” He advanced on the man. “My Masterwork is the product of 20 years of research and experience! This is the greatest thing anyone has ever done, and how dare you say I achieved it through dumb luck!”
The man raised his hands placatingly. “Okay, okay!” He chuckled. “Years of research, whatever. You found the Higher Order. That’s where we come in.”
“Why?”
“Ah. Well, you see, the reason that no one’s found the entire Higher Order is simple. It’s because we stop them.”
Talbot was incredulous. “What?! Why would you stand in the way of progress like that?!” As a scientist, the possibility that there could be anyone actively against gaining knowledge was incomprehensible to him.
The man grimaced, as though he was about to break some terrible news. “Well… there are some parts of this tapestry you’ve assembled, specifically here...” The man pointed at a small segment of the diagram, a thick horizontal line with four thin lines crossing perpendicularly that turned into five lines on the other side, “That grants access to some other planes of existence. Planes of existence that are home to some very dangerous things. And due to some logistical aspects of the Higher Order,” He gestured at another segment of the diagram entirely composed of square symbols, “if you muck about in their domain, they are able to muck about in ours. The Law of Equivalent Interference.”
“But… how would our finding answers count as ‘mucking about in their domain’? If we knew the danger, we just wouldn’t go there.”
The man was silent, then answered Talbot’s question with a question. “Tell me, Talbot. If humans discovered another dimension, do you really think they’d be able to stay out of it?”
“Fine. But then why do you have to censor the whole thing? Why not give them the benign parts that would still forward human progress by centuries?”
“Because the Higher Order is like Algebra. Or a logic puzzle from Highlights magazine. If you give someone smart enough just a few clues, they’ll eventually assemble the whole picture. Which we desperately want to avoid.”
There was a long and heavy silence.
“Ok.” Said Talbot, wrapping his head around the new information. “So the APH stops people from finding the answers to these questions so our world isn’t destroyed by Fourth Dimensional entities?”
“Exactly!” The man nodded, delighted at Talbot’s comprehension. “Well, they’re technically Fifth Dimensional. The existence of time in our reality means that this is the Fourth Dimension.”
There was another silence.
“Sorry, what was your name again?” Talbot asked.
The man looked utterly devastated. “Oh no! I can’t believe I was so rude!” He vaulted the desk and approached Talbot, stopping just short and shaking his hand. “Alexander Talc, Class 2 Censor Operative for the APH.”
“Censor as in… ?”
“Yes, I censor things. People too, if necessary.”
“So what,” Talbot asked, “You’re here to kill me?”
Talc gasped. “What?!?! No! As if we’d be so barbaric! We’re here to recruit you.”
Talbot’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?”
“Of course! You know more about the Higher Order than any human outside of the APH, and probably more than a majority of those inside of the APH. Your expertise could be vital in preventing a breach in our reality!”
“What would this job entail?”
“Well, we’d need you to fake your death, change your name, burn your research-”
Talbot recoiled.
“Now I know that sounds like a lot,” Talc backpedaled, “But allow me to let you in on a little secret.” He leaned in conspiratorially, then glanced around as though to make sure nobody was listening. Satisfied, he whispered, “The dental is off-the-charts.”
Talbot shook his head. “What happens if I don’t take the job?”
Talc winced. “Things get considerably less pleasant. I have to call in a Class 3 Purge Operative, and that’s always a hassle.”
Talbot chose not to inquire into the purpose of a ‘Purge Operative’.
Talc gently laid a hand on Talbot’s shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. How about we move to some place more hospitable and you can think it over?”
Talbot nodded, his mind elsewhere. Talc gently guided him out of the room, Willis following and closing the door behind them.
Talbot stared down into his conical paper cup, filled with water that tasted plasticy. The three men were in the lobby of Talbot’s workplace, leaning against a table adorned with donuts and a water cooler.
Talc bit into a day-old bear claw as Talbot swirled his water and considered the situation.
If he accepted the offer, he would be shipped off to another state, away from his home in Bedford, where he would join whatever on earth APH was. Talbot hated the idea of working for an agency whose entire purpose was to destroy knowledge. On the other hand, if he didn’t accept the offer, they’d likely kill him.
Purge Officer…
Would working for the APH really be so bad? Talbot liked Talc enough. Maybe they could be friends. Or… more than friends. And if the APH truly wanted Talbot to be able to suppress the Higher Order, he’d have to know the Higher Order. Which meant research. He could essentially continue on exactly as he was.
Except he would never be recognized as the genius he was. Talbot involuntarily crushed his paper cup as he realized that, if he took the offer, he’d never win a Nobel prize. He’d never present at the Grand Chemistry Convention. He’d never write a revolutionary scientific paper. He would be forgotten.
He knew what he had to do. He couldn’t say no, or he would be killed. He couldn’t accept, or he would be forgotten, which was worse. He had to escape.
But how? This was some sort of world-ruling secret agency. They probably had eyes everywhere. What could he possibly do to get away?
His eyes wandered towards the stairs. The stairs that led to his office, which held the key to every single natural law.
Talbot tossed his cup in the trash, then approached Talc.
“I think I’m ready to make my decision. But first, can I go to the restroom?”
Talc nodded. “Of course! Take all the time you need!”
Talbot nodded and jogged toward the restroom. In the tiled floor under him, he saw Willis’s warped reflection following him discreetly.
He entered the single restroom and quietly opened the window. He could see Willis’s shadow under the door as the man hovered just outside.
Talbot waited a couple seconds, then flushed the toilet, turned on the sink, and silently crept through the window. He fell a few feet to the alley below, and had to suppress a grunt.
Now what? He needed to escape, but his notebook was still upstairs. All his research was in there, and he couldn’t leave it to the APH.
The only ground level entrance to the building was the main lobby door, which was directly in Talc’s sightline. However, who said he had to enter on ground level?
Talbot’s gaze rose to the old fire escape above him. The bottom of the structure was a platform that lined up with the second floor. A ladder was folded up on the platform, an old rusty latch keeping it from reaching ground level. Talbot couldn’t reach the latch from where he was on the ground, so he looked around for a solution.
He had a bum throwing arm, so he couldn’t toss anything up to break it. Unless…
Talbot considered Talc’s words. The very mechanics of the universe itself... He felt a flare of pride as he realized how little Talc truly understood.
The sigil that granted access to the Fifth Dimension was just one of several such Seals. Over all Talbot’s years of study, those portions of the Higher Order were the most applicable. They did not just show universal aspects of reality. They represented those aspects. They were symbolic, and like all symbols, they were powerful.
They were simulacra of natural laws, and could be manipulated in order to manipulate those laws themselves. It allowed anyone who knew the Seals to weave a sort of magic, ignoring the laws of time, space, or gravity by sketching and then destroying the corresponding runes, temporarily destroying that Law’s influence over oneself. Talbot’s hypothesis was that there was a single Greater Seal for each law that controlled that law anywhere and everywhere. If that one was found and destroyed, the laws of reality would change forever.
For greater, wide-scale application, Talbot had scrawled in his notebook, The Greater Aspects must be located and manipulated.
Talbot dropped to the ground and dragged his finger through the alley gravel. He assembled the rocks into a facsimile of a tiny part of the Higher Order, one that he’d experimented with a lot. He looked around for a suitable vessel, settling on a rock. He poured all his mental energy into the stone, and used his hands to scatter the pebbles that made up the Seal of Velocity.
The rock sprang from the ground and soared upwards, clanging against the ladder before anticlimactically falling into a dumpster. From inside, Willis banged on the bathroom door and said something indistinct. Talbot’s second telekinetic toss hit the ladder before falling onto the platform itself. He broke another Seal, and his third throw smacked into the latch, splitting the rusted thing and shooting the ladder downwards.
It made a lot of noise, and Talbot could hear Willis pounding on the bathroom door inside. He seemed to be breaking it down, as Talbot heard wood split with a crunch. Talbot quickly mounted the ladder and climbed up to the platform, trying not to think about the alarming creaking sounds the old construction was making. From there, he took the stairs two at a time, spiraling up and up until he reached the sixth floor.
Six flights of stairs only had him a bit winded by the time he reached his floor. He tried the door to the inside, and found it unlocked.
Talbot entered the hallway outside his office quietly. He considered how this would play out. Willis and Talc would be storming up here at any moment. He had to move quickly.
Talbot entered his workroom, dragging his desk over to block the door. He took a moment to gaze forlornly at his Masterwork, because he would never be able to take it with him. All the same pieces and diagrams were in his notebook, but the full Masterwork was a thing of beauty, one that he would never behold again.
He snapped a picture of it with his phone. It wasn’t the same, but it’d have to do.
Talbot grabbed his notebook, its leather-bound pages bulging with decades of research. Some of the sheaves of paper stuck out at odd angles, newspaper snippets and glossy photographs glued into the most faithful companion Talbot had ever had.
Was there anything else he needed?
The door began to rattle.
Talbot grabbed a sheet of blank paper from his desk and rapidly sketched as many Seals as he could. He had an idea of how he could escape, but he needed to harness his work to do it. Using the Masterwork as a reference, he scrawled the Seal of Time, the Seal of Space, the Seal of Gravity, and, after considering it, the Seal of the Fifth Dimension.
Just in case. He thought.
With a crack, his door burst open, shoving the desk out of the way. Talc and Willis stood there, the latter looking enraged, the former strangely calm.
“Talbot, this doesn’t have to happen this way.” Talc appealed, but Talbot was done listening. He would not be forgotten. He would be immortalized, through his work.
Talbot ripped a corner off of his Seal sheet, and glanced down at the Seal of Time. With a glare at Talc, he stuck it in his mouth and began to chew.
Talbot disappeared with a pop, as Willis lunged towards where he’d just been.
Willis stopped short, then turned to Talc. He was noticeably upset at losing their quarry.
“What do we do now?”
“Well, we follow him.”
“How?”
Talc approached the Masterwork. “It’s simple. I’m sure Talbot understood that time travel doesn’t work the way everyone thinks it does. Cause and Effect are inextricably linked, and cannot be put out of order. Traveling through time actually just creates another dimension, a splintered facsimile of your original where things play out differently.”
“So… to follow him do we just use the Time Sigil?”
“Seal, Willis. And no. That will just create another splinter plane. Now that the reality has already been established, we need to follow him. Using this.”
Talc’s thin fingers traced the outline of another Seal, one Talbot hadn’t thought to inscribe.
“There are many ways to traverse the Multiverse.” Talc said, “Using Seals to rip open the barriers between planes is one of the simplest.”
Talc sketched down two copies of the seal, then separated the two and handed one to Willis. The two locked eyes and nodded in unison. They both rent their sheets in half and disappeared.
Talbot didn’t ‘land’, per se, but he still felt off-balance when he blinked into existence in his office. He staggered, but caught himself before he could fall. The world felt… different here.
Out of everything Talbot had discovered, Multiversal travel was his least considered. He’d been too cowardly to experiment with anything but the Space, Gravity, and Velocity Seals, so this experience was new to him. Naturally, as any scientist does when faced with something unfamiliar, he started taking notes.
Effects of Time/Universe Traversal:
–Slight nausea. Somewhat noticeable. Temporary?
–World overall feels discordant. Silence sounds different than back home. My tinnitus is in another key. Feels like I don’t belong.
–Different frequency hard-coded into every reality?
Before he could assemble an entire thesis on the underlying resonance within the multiverse, he realized with a start that he had to get out of here. Talc and WIllis were likely following him, and even if they weren’t, there were copies of them in this dimension.
Talbot had willed himself about 10 minutes back in time, and it seemed like that’d worked. His Masterwork was complete and the desk and tarp were off to the side. The trio were likely downstairs in the lobby, where Past-Talbot was thinking over the pros and cons of their offer. At least, he thought so. Time travel seemed to create a splintering reality, one that maintained consistency with his original up until the point where he showed up. There were plenty of unfamiliar worlds out there, but the Seal of Time created one quite familiar. Right now Past-Talbot-
Past-Talbot doesn’t sound right. Pretty soon it’ll be my present, then my future. How about Talbot-2?
After settling upon a name to call his double, Talbot exited his office and left through the door that led to the fire escape, in too much of a hurry to close it. He scrambled down the stairs, knocked the latch off the ladder, climbed to the ground, popped open the bathroom window, and climbed inside. Right as he got his arms through, the door opened.
Talbot-2 walked in, then stopped short as he saw himself dangling halfway through the window. Talbot put a finger to his lips, and indicated Willis-2 with his eyes. Talbot-2 silently shut the door, locking Willis-2 outside.
Talbot-2 opened his mouth to speak, but barely got out one word. “What-”
“I’m you, from the future. Well, not from your future, but from a future.”
Talbot-2’s confused expression was replaced with excitement. “So the Time Seal Worked?! Fantastic! What’s it like?!”
“I’d tell you all about it, but I’m currently stuck in a bathroom window and being hunted down by two government agents. Although I don’t actually know if they work for the government…”
Talbot-2 pulled him through the window into the bathroom. “Sorry.”
Once he was in, Talbot glanced at the door behind Talbot-2.
“Okay. Here’s the thing. Some version of Talc and Willis will be here any minute. Whether mine followed me from the future or not, yours will catch on soon. We need to get out of here, and get the Masterwork to somebody else.”
“Wait, which Talc and Willis will show up?”
“One of them… or both of them. It doesn’t really matter! Do we know anybody we can send our notes to?”
Talbot-2 considered it. “Davis?”
Talbot frowned, and opened his notebook to an early page.
Dr. Wilson Davis
–Spineless fool. He calls himself a chemist, but refuses to venture outside the conventions of the industry. No true scientist works a cushy chemical production job! We journey! We endeavor!
Talbot shook his head. “He’d never publish something like this. If they tracked him down, he’d probably take their oppressive offer.”
“Johnson?”
Dr Monica Johnson
—Chemist and conspiracy nut. Super gullible, but generally a good person.
“She’ll believe anything.” Talbot said. “...Which is actually probably a good thing in this case. If she thinks it’s real, she’ll distribute it, and she’s earnest enough to leave my- our name on it.”
Talbot-2 nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Actually, it sounds like an idea, not a plan. What is our plan?”
Talbot thought for several seconds. “Here’s what we do. You pretend to accept their offer, and do whatever they tell you. If all else fails, you’ll get a cushy job working for the government. Meanwhile, I get this,” Talbot indicated his notebook. “To Johnson, and then…” He paused.
Someone knocked on the door.
“And then?” Talbot-2 prompted in a whisper, glancing behind him.
“Then… I’ll figure something out.”
Talbot-2 nodded. “Alright. Are we ready to go?”
“I think so.” Talbot replied.
Talbot slipped out of the window, and Talbot-2 opened the door to greet Willis-2.
The man peered around him. “Who were you talking to in there?”
Talbot-2 shrugged. “Myself. You know, crazy scientist stuff.”
Talbot dropped to the ground, then produced his sheet of Seals. He picked out one specific design, a circle bisected by a thin line. On one side of the line, a stylized forest thrived, and on the other a pictographic city loomed. Talbot ripped the Seal of Space from his paper and stuck it in his mouth, once again disappearing with a pop.
Talc and Willis appeared in Talbot-2’s workroom, and quickly exited. Both spun in the hallway outside, and both spotted the wide-open door to the fire escape. They both moved down the rickety metal construction and found themselves in an alley behind the building.
“See that?” Talc pointed at the window.
“Yeah. Did he go in through it?” Willis asked.
“Of course. But if he used the Seal of Time to try to come back and alert himself, I’m guessing he came through here to talk to him…self, but he couldn’t have left. The only point at which he was in the bathroom, you were right outside. He popped in, popped out, popped another Seal.”
“Is there any guarantee that he came back to alert himself? He could’ve gone to any point in time.”
“I know his type. The out-there intellectual. He’s been burned by everyone but himself. He’ll only trust himself. And if he came to himself before we’d arrived, he wouldn’t believe him.”
“Sorry, who wouldn’t believe him?”
“Him! Aren’t you-” Talc took a moment to consider the context. “You know what, nevermind. The point is that this reality’s Talbot is now in league with our Talbot, and that’s not good.”
“What do we do?”
“Well firstly, we need to cut it down to one Talbot. Two is too many to deal with.” Talc pushed on his earpiece, then spoke. “Hello? Can you hear me, Talc?” There was silence, until something dawned on him. “Ah, dammit. I can’t call my own earpiece.” He adjusted something on his earpiece. “Willis! Do you copy?” Willis heard Talc both from right next to him and through his earpiece. He didn’t hear the reply, but his earpiece buzzed as its exact copy broadcast something. Willis took his earpiece out and squinted at it, curious about the exact Multiversal properties that bonded it to its clone.
“Yes, this is Talc. But not your Talc. Listen, Talbot ran off to this dimension, and we believe he’s working with your Talbot. We need to meet up, then dispose of the dupe.”
Talc listened for a response, and Willis’s earpiece vibrated as his double presumably replied.
Talc turned to Willis. “Alright. They’ll meet us back in Talbot’s office. There we can get rid of the redundant one and track our quarry.”
Their quarry was currently depositing a large package of brown paper in a big blue mailbox.
Talbot paused as he lowered the boxy parcel. This was his life’s work, his notebook and all his scattered papers, and was the second-most important thing he owned, next to the wall that contained the Masterwork itself, which was likely being dismantled by his enemies at that very moment. This was the last 20 years of his life, and he was about to gamble it away to a crazy woman on the off-chance that his legacy might live on. Talbot wished he’d spent more time with reasonable scientists, if only to expand the pool of people he could mail his book to.
With a deep breath, Talbot released the book, wincing at the gentle ‘paff’ sound it made when it fell onto the envelopes at the bottom of the box.
His job complete, Talbot slipped the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and disappeared into the afternoon.
Guns are inelegant, Talc told his subordinate often. They’re loud, messy. Tools of thugs and soldiers, not agents of a higher purpose.
But there’s a downside to not carrying a gun, Willis countered silently. The difference between shooting a person and being forced to kill them more intimately is palpable, and not often a positive.
Willis considered this as Talbot-2 stopped struggling and finally went limp in his arms. Willis released the garotte from around the man’s throat, then lowered him to the floor of the office.
An irritated sigh came from behind him. Willis turned to see Talc shaking his head and walking toward him.
“No, you need to finish the job.” The man said. He kneeled, took Talbot-2’s forehead in one hand, his chin in the other, then jerked his head to the side, snapping his neck.
“If you stop garrotting when he goes limp, he’s just unconscious.” The other Talc, Talc-2, stated.
Willis nodded, numbly. He didn’t really hear the man.
“I know this is hard,” Talc said, shifting into a gentler tone, “But this is all for the good of humanity. If we let these ideas run wild, we’d all be dead.”
“Worse than dead.” Talc-2 added helpfully. “Our very essences would be consumed by dark beings from beyond our world.”
Willis nodded again. He’d heard it all before. So why did he still find it so hard to hurt people?
“So where’s the other one?” Willis-2 asked, seemingly unaware of his double’s predicament.
“That’s the big question, isn’t it.” Talc-2 mused, “However, before we can ponder it, first things first. We need to get a CC team in here to handle that wall.”
All four men were familiar with the APH Cognito Containment Teams, mysterious individuals in surgical masks that took away artifacts of forbidden knowledge to be stored or disposed of.
Talc-2 clicked his earpiece, then said a series of numbers and codes that were unintelligible to either Willis. He finished by saying, “Please send a Class-4 CC team. Over.”
He turned to the others. “They’re on their way. We need to secure Talbot’s place of residence.”
“Do we know that’s where he’ll go next?” Willis-2 asked.
“Not necessarily,” Talc-1 responded, “But it’s quite likely he’ll at least stop there to retrieve personal effects before going somewhere else.”
Both Willises nodded, almost in sync. The logic made sense. They would lock down Talbot’s house first.
All was silent in the small house several miles outside of town that Talbot called his abode. Then frantic footsteps sounded from outside, as someone ran up the footpath leading to the front door. Then, a faint scratching as Talbot scrambled to fit his key into the lock. A quiet clacking came next, as Talbot’s cat descended his cat-tree and approached the door to see what was happening.
Talbot swung the door open and gently pushed the cat out of his way with his foot.
“Sorry Ozzy,” he muttered.
He produced his debit card and snapped it in half, having extracted all the money from his account before arriving here. He pulled several thousand dollars from his pockets and shoved them in his wallet, his backpack, the pocket on the inside of his jacket, and his shoes.
He grabbed a spare toothbrush and tube of toothpaste from the master bathroom, shoving them into the backpack as well. He was going on the run, for god knows how long.
He paused as his eyes fell on his set of keys. He wouldn’t be taking his car or his house, so they’d likely not be necessary.
But I might as well just in case. Talbot grabbed the jangling key ring and slipped it into the inside pocket of his pants.
His cat mewed at his feet. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed his carrier and bowl, both monogrammed with a matching ‘Ozymandius’.
He knew bringing Ozzy was objectively a bad choice. It was impractical and stupid. The cat was loud, and would slow him down. But Talbot couldn’t bear leaving his baby here to be subjected to whatever evil ideas Talc and Willis had in mind.
Talbot coaxed Ozzy into his crate, then picked up the cat and donned his backpack. He took one last look around his house before he opened the front door and was immediately grabbed by both Willises, one of which held a chloroform rag over his mouth until he went limp.
Talbot awoke with a start. He glanced around, disoriented, and immediately registered that he was in some sort of interrogation room. His chair was metal, and bolted to the floor. Before him was a table, and above that table a blinding light mounted on the ceiling shone directly into his eyes. On the wall across from him, very much breaking the theme, was a ‘Hang in there!’ poster and a wall-mounted hand sanitizer dispenser.
Talbot tried to stand, only to find that his wrists and ankles were strapped into the chair. He strained against the bonds, cursing as the straps held strong.
He thought he heard faint snickering.
He turned to glare at the mirror to his right. “What are you planning to do to me?!”
Silence.
“What are you planning to do to my cat?!?”
More silence.
The Talcs and the Willi were standing behind the one-way mirror on Talbot’s left, looking at the back of his head as he shouted at no one. Talc looked mildly amused at Talbot’s complete misunderstanding of the room’s orientation.
Willis-2 glanced at Talc-2, who shrugged and motioned for Talc-1 to enter the larger room. Talc-1 did as asked.
The door at the front of the room opened, and Talc stepped out. He took a seat across from Talbot, and cleared his throat.
“First off, the most important thing. Your cat will be well-cared for, no matter the outcome of this conversation. Great name, by the way.”
Talbot refused to thank him for the compliment.
Talc cleared his throat, and there was a long silence.
“What about my first question?” Talbot asked, his voice trembling.
Talc sighed, then reached below the table.
Several seconds later, he came back up, notably with some difficulty. He slammed Talbot’s notebook down on the table. Next to it, he laid the sheet of seals Talbot had used to traverse space and time.
Talbot was stricken. “How did you-!?”
“Find this? Simple deduction. I’m frankly insulted that you didn’t consider that we’ve been tailing everyone you know for months. Johnson was the only person you could send this to.”
“What did you do to her?!”
“Nothing! We’re not the bad guys here, Talbot. We pulled the package from her porch before she ever got involved. We’d never hurt anyone.”
“Then where am I?” Talbot spat, then rephrased. “I mean… where is the version of me from here? Wait, are you from here or there?”
“I’m from there, assuming you mean your original reality. And Talbot-2 is fine. He’s in the next room.”
Willis winced behind the mirror.
“You never actually answered my question.” Talbot said quietly.
Talc pursed his lips regrettably.
“Well… here’s the thing, Talbot. What I’d like to do is offer you a chance to redeem yourself. I’d like to let you join the APH and help us protect humanity. But you’ve made it clear that that’s not what you want, and if we let you into our fold now, we’d forever be looking over our shoulders, wondering whose side you were truly on. And we can’t just let you go, no no. Your theories would largely be regarded as crackpot, but there are ways to prove these things, and you would certainly find them.”
Talbot swallowed. “Couldn’t you just… you know… erase my memory?”
Talc stifled a laugh. “Unfortunately, this is not Men In Black. Actions have consequences. There are no take-backs. And I’m sorry, Talbot, but this is it for you.” Talc stood, turned on his heel, and left.
“Why the hell’d you wake him up just to tell him that?” Willis muttered behind the glass.
“Hey, wait!” Talbot screamed at him as he departed, but there was no response.
Talbot tried to stand again, but slammed back into his chair as the bonds held.
Willis entered a few minutes later, holding a syringe. He winced at the sight before him. Talbot was hunched over, resting his head on the table. His shoulders were bobbing as though he was sobbing quietly.
Willis approached Talbot and tightened the strap on his right wrist. He moved around him and reached for his left hand, only to see that the strap had been sawed apart, and Talbot’s hand was free.
Willis grabbed his elbow, but Talbot struggled against the man’s grasp. The scientist was trying to keep it firmly on the table under his face.
Frustrated, Willis grabbed Talbot’s head and lifted it back, so he was sitting up straight.
As he beheld Talbot’s face, Willis felt a bolt of fear lance through him. The man was smiling, but it was not a happy smile.
It was the smile of a trapped animal that knew it would take a limb before it went down. With his eyes, Talbot indicated downwards. Willis slowly lowered his vision to the stainless steel tabletop. In Talbot’s hand was a housekey, the teeth worn down from sawing through the leather strap and scratching a symbol into the table. Right under his hand, the surface was pockmarked with the Seal of the Fifth Dimension.
Willis lunged for Talbot’s wrist, but it was too late. The alchemist brought the key across the symbol, carving another scratch to break the Seal and the boundaries between their reality and one far darker. Neither man had time to scream.
Talbot felt himself slip free of the chair, and out of the leather strap around his wrist.
Willis’s grip loosened, and it felt like he was flung across whatever intermediary pathway connected the fourth and fifth dimensions.
Part Two posted promptly!

It can't keep going like this. We need to figure out how to fight the ever-worsening economic / workplace issues that are already affecting so many of us. No full-time worker should need to choose between food or basic shelter or medicine/health care. I have so many friends that would love to have children, but are deciding not to because they either can't afford a child or they worry that they would be bringing a child into a life of toil that has them working as a wage slave until they die. THIS IS NOT OK.
I own a successful small business and I pay my (one) employee $26/hr and PTO that accrues at twice the rate I got back when I still worked for someone else, myself. This is for simple admin work because, seriously, he would not be able to afford even a crummy studio apartment in our expensive city for the $16/hr his sort of work normally pays. I'm just helping one guy, though. We *NEED* to do more. I need to do more because THIS IS NOT ENOUGH.
And Real Estate! WTF? I'm lucky enough that I was able to buy a tiny, 90-year old house. It was in nearly un-inhabitable condition when I got they keys because that's what I could afford. I live just outside of the city limits, too. That was 5 years ago. That $436k hovel now has a "Zestimate" of $610k and a Redfin Ballpark of $605k. At today's interest rates, that would require an annual income of $175k and $175,000 down. The payment would be $4,450/month. That payment would crush me, meaning I could no longer buy a tiny, 90-year old hovel on the outskirts of town today. And that was just 5 years ago! In Seattle, where I live, the AVERAGE home value is hovering around $900k. THIS IS NOT OK.
Rents are also crazy. Holy shit. In my area, my little hovel would rent out at about 2,750/ per month. While some folks can afford paying $2,750/month, no-one can truly AFFORD throwing that kind of money away on rent. You guessed it already: THIS IS NOT OK.
WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING? BIG STUFF, LITTLE STUFF, EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN? WHO WANTS TO WORK ON THIS WITH ME?

So I'm 21 m and my now roomate 21 f were dating for almost 3 years she has been the only person I have ever had an emotional connection with yet ,but she said she felt as though I was pressuring her to do things she didn't want to do so we agreed that she would start making plans for us. She didn't want to do anything after that and we just drifted apart to the point we are now about 2 weeks have passed since then and I have been asking my single friends 22 f, 25 m, ( I only have 2 friends who weren't in relationships small town) for advice then they mention that they are now dating. It just feels rude to come to them with my problems now cause they don't need to help me fix me. Is it ok for me to feel sad about all of this cause one of the other people I spoke to at work told me to stop whining and get back out there but I'm not sure I can.

I really really just need to hear some uplifting and encouraging words or personal experiences. And I need to let this all out somewhere.
TLDR: had a traumatic weekend, my partner somehow turned everyone against me or at least pushed me out of the circle of friends I thought I had in an instant. he was abusive to me and our mutual friend even at one point.
This weekend was a couple of the most traumatic days I’ve ever had. I am on the fringe of the end of a very unhealthy relationship and living situation but my heart is in panic mode about it all, to the point I feel physically nauseous.
My partner has been emotionally and mentally abusive to me on and off for majority of our relationship, it’s like living with Jekyl and Hyde. I made many many excuses and gave every ounce of unconditional love I could give, thinking over and over it would help him. Help his drug habits, his gambling, his anger.
This weekend, his sister came to town with her friend to stay with us. She has expressed to me how she cares about me and sees me like a sister and her friend regardless of me and her brother’s relationship (she’s spoken about how she knows what he’s like). On day two of their visit, I was coming home from an errand, and my bf asked me to bring him food. I had brought him food the night before that he hadn’t eaten, and had no money to spend on fast food when it wasn’t a necessity. (And he knew this, i have a new job and we are in frugal mode right now). I was so scared to say no bc I knew he would get angry, I tried to mitigate it and it didn’t work. He immediately hung up, and texted me the usual hurtful things. But this time I was with his sister while he did all of this. She’s only 20 and I’m 26, and she’s HIS sister at the end of the day, so I tried very hard to walk the line right. She somewhat involved herself in it, opened a dialogue with me about everything going on and her own issues with him. It turned into a huge mess.
He threw my stuff out of the house l, sent a video saying to come get it my stuff before someone steals it. His sister and friend acted so supportive and sweet to me, but again I tried to walk that line. I didn’t shit talk him or try to make sides, I made sure to mention that he loves her very much despite their own problems. We went and put my things inside. It got worse.
We left then, and she decided to call their mom. I was staying out of it at this point, even out of the own abuse I was enduring because it felt like it was being commandeered. Then he texts me saying he threw my stuff back outside so we return to - surprise - nothing outside, he just wanted us there.
At that point, his sister went inside to him and I sat outside with her friend just chatting and cheering up, because we figured they were fighting about their own thing. He eventually comes out so the friend goes inside, he tries to prod at me and hurt my feelings more but I stayed calm and gave no emotional response just calm and “this isn’t okay right now.”
Well in the hour and a half I sat outside alone to calm myself and center, by the time I went in all of our friends and his sister didn’t even say a word to me. He’s a master manipulater or something I don’t know, because they saw on their own accord how he was treating me and speaking, acknowledged how he is this way to others. I was confused and anxious but stayed calm, I texted his sister and asked what the plan was and if things were okay for them now (she planned to want me and her friend to go out and about) but all she said was “I’m staying out of it. We are going bowling i think idk but yeah” I said “understandable, I hope the vacay is saved and you guys have some fun tonight!”
Then I showered, heard everyone laughing having fun, I felt like a stranger in my house. Then he comes into the bathroom, opened the shower curtain and started talking down to me more. I just sat there in the water staring at the wall crying dude it felt like my brain broke at that point. But it got WORSE.
They leave, our mutual friend called me and invited me to go out and hang out with her. By the time we got to my house after, they were all there. She told me she felt too drunk to drive and needed to just pass out for a bit, so I warned her of the tension but said she could lay in my bed.
We go inside, everyone ignores us, ok, and then go to the room. Immediately he swings the door wide open (everyone right there) and started a scene again. He ended up being awful to our friend who he speaks highly of for being the kindest person all the time. Took her phone from her hand to take over her phone call to her bf. Made her cry. He got the reaction he wanted out of me, me crying in front of everyone looking crazy. He insisted I manipulated her or was trying to “influence her” by bringing her inside, and wouldn’t listen or respect anything she said or felt. I was humiliated. For once someone finally saw what happens to me behind the door in the moment, but I am so shameful that it was a painful experience for my friend.
She soon demanded I leave with her and her bf who came to get her. So now it’s night two and I’m sleeping at her house.
He did the thing he always does where after doing these things to me, he sends me a meme or Instagram reel like nothing is the matter. Like nothing happened.
I don’t have any animosity towards his sister or the friends I thought we shared. It’s not their relationship, and that’s his sister and she’s only 20. It still hurt badly though.
When he’s the version of him that is genuine, kind, loud and loving, my heart would melt and I’d feel at home. But every other week it’s like my own was ripped out from under me, friends included. It was particularly painful seeing those people who behaved like they were my good friend too just watch everyone transpire.
And it sucks because being the odd man out makes me think ”well something is wrong with me here, some fatal flaw that causes and deserves all of this” but I know that can’t be
After years now of being lied to and betrayed, promised change and making sacrifices, I feel so sick. I still love him. After all that I still think “I love him and he could do better, and if I’m aware enough to know why someone’s doing what they’re doing, why can’t I work around it?” But I don’t think there’s any working around this anymore. I feel like a stranger in my own body

Ok reddit please let me know if I am the a**hole in this situation. I (22F) have two very close friends. For the sake of this story, lets call the first one Darla (25F) and Ginger (20F). Darla and I have been friends for over 10 years now, Ginger met Darla about two years ago. At first they were very close, but in the past couple of months Ginger and I have gotten much closer. Darla just graduated college, she decided to have a graduation party at a beach resort in Mexico. For months, the three of us have been planning this trip, Darla has family somewhat nearby so she is planning on staying for a couple of months. Ginger and I decided we would go for 3 weeks. OK now that you have some backstory lets get into the AITA part. Late last year, Darla starting talking to a guy (24M), he lives in another country and quite honestly their relationship is not the type of relationship I would want, but I stay in my own lane and hope for the best for her. Recently, Darla has been mentioning the idea of "entering a new era or chapter of her life", she sees a future with him which, if that is what she wants I will support but the issue is that she pretty directly says that her new chapter doesn't include us. She basically says that we wont speak again unless its for very special occasions. While I understand that life circumstances change which cause relationships to shift, I find it so odd to purposefully want to phase your friends out of your life. Her graduation ceremony was a couple of weeks ago, her mom and her bf's mom came up w the plan to fly him in for the ceremony. Prior to this plan, we had a weekend of graduation festivities planned, when I found out he was coming as a surprise I was excited and we started making plans on how to include him. As soon as Darla found out he was coming, she told us that we were uninvited from graduation festivities. When we expressed that we were disappointed we didn't get to celebrate with her, she got very upset and said that we were being complicated and unfair for asking her to share her time when her bf is in town. She said it is very hard to divide her time but that ultimately this was an important time for her and that she would like for him to spend time with her family. Ginger and I were fairly upset at this situation, as we talked about it we realized how Darla tends to dictate a lot in our friendship individually and as a trio. Darla only hangs out when she finds it convenient, she never can meet us on our side of town, and for several months any communication or time together with her has been prompted by us. This situation started eating away at us and ultimately I decided I couldn’t spend THREE weeks trapped in another country with her. I called her and asked to meet up to have a private conversation about my feelings in this friendship and that I would not be going to her party anymore. In the conversation she basically said she knew she had been a shi**y friend, she later on texted me that she hoped that I had changed my mind. I didn't. While it was nice to hear her admit that she's aware of how she has treated most of her friends, I feel by changing my mind and going, I am falling back into the same habits of doing things to make her happy even if it might make me stressed/sad/anxious. Since then, both of her parents have reached out to me saying I am in the wrong to not go. Her family says I am taking this way to seriously and am blowing it out of proportion and Ill regret not going. They say my friendship with her will be forever scarred if I don't go. My family on the other hand, supports my decision and tells me to protect my mental peace...SO AITA?

I really really just need to hear some uplifting and encouraging words or personal experiences. And I need to let this all out somewhere.
TLDR: had a traumatic weekend, my partner somehow turned everyone against me or at least pushed me out of the circle of friends I thought I had in an instant. he was abusive to me and our mutual friend even at one point.
This weekend was a couple of the most traumatic days I’ve ever had. I am on the fringe of the end of a very unhealthy relationship and living situation but my heart is in panic mode about it all, to the point I feel physically nauseous.
My partner has been emotionally and mentally abusive to me on and off for majority of our relationship, it’s like living with Jekyl and Hyde. I made many many excuses and gave every ounce of unconditional love I could give, thinking over and over it would help him. Help his drug habits, his gambling, his anger.
This weekend, his sister came to town with her friend to stay with us. She has expressed to me how she cares about me and sees me like a sister and her friend regardless of me and her brother’s relationship (she’s spoken about how she knows what he’s like). On day two of their visit, I was coming home from an errand, and my bf asked me to bring him food. I had brought him food the night before that he hadn’t eaten, and had no money to spend on fast food when it wasn’t a necessity. (And he knew this, i have a new job and we are in frugal mode right now). I was so scared to say no bc I knew he would get angry, I tried to mitigate it and it didn’t work. He immediately hung up, and texted me the usual hurtful things. But this time I was with his sister while he did all of this. She’s only 20 and I’m 26, and she’s HIS sister at the end of the day, so I tried very hard to walk the line right. She somewhat involved herself in it, opened a dialogue with me about everything going on and her own issues with him. It turned into a huge mess.
He threw my stuff out of the house l, sent a video saying to come get it my stuff before someone steals it. His sister and friend acted so supportive and sweet to me, but again I tried to walk that line. I didn’t shit talk him or try to make sides, I made sure to mention that he loves her very much despite their own problems. We went and put my things inside. It got worse.
We left then, and she decided to call their mom. I was staying out of it at this point, even out of the own abuse I was enduring because it felt like it was being commandeered. Then he texts me saying he threw my stuff back outside so we return to - surprise - nothing outside, he just wanted us there.
At that point, his sister went inside to him and I sat outside with her friend just chatting and cheering up, because we figured they were fighting about their own thing. He eventually comes out so the friend goes inside, he tries to prod at me and hurt my feelings more but I stayed calm and gave no emotional response just calm and “this isn’t okay right now.”
Well in the hour and a half I sat outside alone to calm myself and center, by the time I went in all of our friends and his sister didn’t even say a word to me. He’s a master manipulater or something I don’t know, because they saw on their own accord how he was treating me and speaking, acknowledged how he is this way to others. I was confused and anxious but stayed calm, I texted his sister and asked what the plan was and if things were okay for them now (she planned to want me and her friend to go out and about) but all she said was “I’m staying out of it. We are going bowling i think idk but yeah” I said “understandable, I hope the vacay is saved and you guys have some fun tonight!”
Then I showered, heard everyone laughing having fun, I felt like a stranger in my house. Then he comes into the bathroom, opened the shower curtain and started talking down to me more. I just sat there in the water staring at the wall crying dude it felt like my brain broke at that point. But it got WORSE.
They leave, our mutual friend called me and invited me to go out and hang out with her. By the time we got to my house after, they were all there. She told me she felt too drunk to drive and needed to just pass out for a bit, so I warned her of the tension but said she could lay in my bed.
We go inside, everyone ignores us, ok, and then go to the room. Immediately he swings the door wide open (everyone right there) and started a scene again. He ended up being awful to our friend who he speaks highly of for being the kindest person all the time. Took her phone from her hand to take over her phone call to her bf. Made her cry. He got the reaction he wanted out of me, me crying in front of everyone looking crazy. He insisted I manipulated her or was trying to “influence her” by bringing her inside, and wouldn’t listen or respect anything she said or felt. I was humiliated. For once someone finally saw what happens to me behind the door in the moment, but I am so shameful that it was a painful experience for my friend.
She soon demanded I leave with her and her bf who came to get her. So now it’s night two and I’m sleeping at her house.
He did the thing he always does where after doing these things to me, he sends me a meme or Instagram reel like nothing is the matter. Like nothing happened.
I don’t have any animosity towards his sister or the friends I thought we shared. It’s not their relationship, and that’s his sister and she’s only 20. It still hurt badly though.
When he’s the version of him that is genuine, kind, loud and loving, my heart would melt and I’d feel at home. But every other week it’s like my own was ripped out from under me, friends included. It was particularly painful seeing those people who behaved like they were my good friend too just watch everyone transpire.
And it sucks because being the odd man out makes me think ”well something is wrong with me here, some fatal flaw that causes and deserves all of this” but I know that can’t be
After years now of being lied to and betrayed, promised change and making sacrifices, I feel so sick. I still love him. After all that I still think “I love him and he could do better, and if I’m aware enough to know why someone’s doing what they’re doing, why can’t I work around it?” But I don’t think there’s any working around this anymore. I feel like a stranger in my own body

I don’t know where to even start... Mainly I'm writing this because I'm terrified and I figure if something happens to me then maybe they’ll at least find this and other people also seen it. I also desperately want to reach out to anyone to get this off my chest because I've been pretending everything is fine for far to long and i just can't anymore. I haven't told anyone about what's been happening. But IF something DOES happen to me, it was 100% my husband and his family/friends will all help him try and cover it up.
I’m sorry I’m way ahead of myself and jumping all over because of exhaustion, stress and being terrified. Im going to try and fit in as much as I can but there's alot and it's been going on quite some time. First, My name is Jenny and right now, I’m hiding at a truck stop in between two semis with my 2 year old daughter, praying that if my husband thinks of this place that he won’t be able to see us. I’ve never been so scared, since Friday he has choked me into unconsciousness three different times, pushed me onto walls repeatedly and so hard that there’s now one with a hole matching the back of my head and shoulders, locked me in the basement when I went down to get laundry saying he’d let me out when I learned to “behave”- he let me out after two hours, dragged me off the bed by my legs telling me I deserve to sleep on the ground like the “dog I am”, pinched, pulled and shoved me, threw things at me and my daughter while I was sitting on the couch trying to comfort her because he wouldn’t stop screaming and breaking things, he finally stopped when the remote hit me in the head, he hid my phone, laptop, wallet and car keys and has threatened to steal our daughter and run away and has also threatened to kill me. This all happened over the weekend but other things similar to this have been happening for at least a year. Ever since he convinced me to move to his small hometown and away from DC, it’s been happening.
I know some of you are asking “how is he not in jail?” Or “why didn’t she get him arrested?” Well, I tried. I used to think that when people would say things like small town police are corrupt or don’t care or whatever or when movies showed the "evil/corrupt small town police department" that it was all bullshit and exaggerating. Because of course police wouldn't do any of that right? Well, I found out quick this morning that it’s absolutely true. When my husband finally fell asleep this morning, I pretended I heard the baby crying and I was going to check on her but I was actually trying to find my keys and grab whatever I could for my daughter. I finally found them in those little cupboards that are above the fridge inside a cup. I immediately grabbed my daughter and got the hell out of there and went right to the police station and I’ve never been so scared and sick after speaking to them. At one point they told me they know Joey and are sure this is just all some “misunderstanding” and that I didn’t “want to ruin my marriage like this” and that “WE”just needed to cool down. We. As if I had done something to him or like it was my fault he did all that because I upset him and that I needed to “take a few days to think this over”. I hadn’t left there not even 5 minutes before his mother and sister in law were trying to get me to come talk to them at their house and they used that same “misunderstanding” bullshit but added in that “he’s been under a lot of stress” and even slipped in some comment about being the breadwinner. I guess they forgot their son and brother manipulated me into quitting my job in DC to move here and since then hasn’t allowed me to get a job. I have literally no one here to turn to. There’s so much I could say about what I’ve dealt with with his family and friends since moving here but there’s so much. I just want to say when all this started happening, I tried to turn to his family who basically let me know they were on his side and would say comments to let me know they were intimidating and threatening me without saying it directly.
I haven’t been allowed to make even one friend since coming here and he had cut off all contact with almost everyone I know. My parents have passed away and I only have a sister who is currently overseas. As of this afternoon when I refused to answer his calls or tell anyone where I was, he has cut off all access to our bank account, restricted access on my phone so I can only receive calls but not call anyone or text anyone or use the internet (I’m currently on the free WiFi here), he has long since deleted all my social media and he has all my passwords to everything but Reddit as he doesn’t realize what it is, all I have is a small bag of clothes and baby supplies and I have less than 50 dollars in my personal account and I still have to get food for my daughter I don’t care if I eat but she obviously needs to and gas for the car so we’re not stranded or cold.
I don’t know what to do. I’m kicking myself for not somehow skimming money off the grocery and “errand” money he allowed me to spend every week (yes I was only allowed to spend a certain amount). If I had somehow been smarter and been thinking ahead and planning my escape I could’ve put at least a few hundred aside to get me home to DC where I could get help and to keep us going until I could work again. At least there I would have resources to get on my feet but I wasn’t smart. I didn’t plan. I’m a complete idiot failure who can’t even keep my daughter safe. I’m scared I’m going to have to go back. I can’t let her starve or live out of a car with no money.. he would take her from me in a second once he finds me and then I know she’d be in danger as he’s been rough with her several times before I stepped in to make sure if he was going to hurt anyone it would be me and I know his threats of keeping her from me are VERY real threats. There’s not even a women shelter or homeless shelter near here and He has literally a whole town of people to back him up and I have no one. He has completely isolated me from everyone and I just hate myself so much.. I have ruined my daughters life and I’m a failure as a mother. I can’t even keep her safe.
I don’t know what will happen if I go back. But I don’t know what I could do. I don’t even know why I’m writing this other than what I said in the beginning… that if something happens to me, it was my husband. And maybe because I just needed to reach out to someone. I know I’m setting myself up for cruel comments and I guess I deserve it for being so stupid.
I never believed in prayers but right now, I’m willing to give it a chance. Please everyone, even if you think I’m an idiot, please send positive thoughts my way for it to be ok, for me to figure something out, for us to stay safe. If something does happen to me, please don’t forget me or let him get away with it. Please don’t let him hurt our daughter.

\* on the U-20 World Cup Team
May 27th
Europe
Championship - Final (English 2nd Division)
Ethan Horvath (Luton Town on loan from Nottingham Forest) Started at GK and went the full 90’ in a 6-5 Penalty Shootout WIn against Coventry City (6.2/5.13) 2 saves Match Highlights
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Bundesliga (Germany)
Giovanni Reyna (Borussia Dortmund) Subbed on in the 62nd‘ in a 2-2 draw with Mainz 05. Assisted on their goals in the 69th’ and 90th’ (8.6/7.92) 1/3 shots on target, 16/18 passing, 4 chances created Match Highlights
Jordan Pefok (Union Berlin) Subbed on in the 77th‘ in a 1-0 Win against Werder Bremen (5.7/6.08) 3/3 passing Match Highlights
John Anthony Brooks (TSG 1899 Hoffenheim) Started at CB and went the full 90’ in a 1-1 draw at VfB Stuttgart (7.0/7.04) 41/50 passing Match Highlights
Paxten Aaronson (Eintracht Frankfurt) Subbed on in the 58th‘ in a 2-1 Win against SC Freiburg. Picked up a yellow in the 90th’ (6.1/6.08) 7/11 passing Match Highlights
Kevin Paredes* (VfL Wolfsburg) Subbed on in the 65th‘ in a 2-1 Loss against Hertha Berlin (6.8/6.46) 0/1 shot on target, 9/11 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
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3. Liga
Jalen Hawkins (FC Ingolstadt) Started at LW and played 66‘ in a 2-1 Loss against Elversberg (-/-) Match Highlights
Marcel Costly (FC Ingolstadt) Started at RB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Loss against Elversberg. Picked up a yellow in the 90th’
Marc Heider (VfL Osnabrück) Subbed on in the 59th‘ in a 2-1 Win against Borussia Dortmund II. Assisted on their first goal in the 90th’. Their promoted to the 2. Bundesliga (-/-) Match Highlights
Johan Gómez (FSV Zwickau) Started at RST and went the full 90’ in a 2-2 draw with 1860 Munich. Scored their first goal in the 65th’. Zwickau are now relegated (-/-)
Nico Carrera (FSV Zwickau on loan from Holstein Kiel) Started at RB and went the full 90’ in a 2-2 draw with 1860 Munich
Kevin Lankford (Viktoria Köln) Subbed on in the 75th‘ in a 2-1 Loss at Saarbrucken (-/-)
Mael Corboz (SC Verl) Started at LCM and went the full 90’ in a 2-2 draw at RW Essen (-/-)
Isaiah Young (RW Essen) Started at LW and played 85‘ in a 2-2 draw with SC Verl
Jann George (SpVgg Bayreuth) Subbed on in the 53rd‘ in a 3-3 draw with Erzgebirge Aue. Bayreuth are now relegated (-/-) Match Highlights
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Serie B - Playoff - Quarter-Finals (Italian 2nd Division)
Tanner Tessman (Venezia FC) Started at CDM and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Loss at Cagliari (7.0/-) 48/60 passing Match Highlights
Andrija Novakovich (Venezia FC) Subbed on in the 83rd‘ in a 2-1 Loss at Cagliari (-/-) 0/1 shot on target, 1/2 passing, 1 chance created
​
Ligue 1 (France)
Timothy Weah (LOSC Lille) Started at LB and played 73‘ in a 2-1 Win against Nantes (7.2/6.49) 41/46 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
Folarin Balogun (Stade de Reims on loan from Arsenal) Started at LST and went the full 90’ in a 3-0 Loss at Lyon (6.7/6.23) 1/5 shots on target, 17/18 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
Erik Palmer-Brown (ES Troyes AC) Started at CB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Loss at Angers (5.9/6.37) 0/1 shot on target, 17/25 passing Match Highlights
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Liga NOS (Portugal)
Reggie Cannon (Boavista FC) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 4-1 Win at Chaves (7.7/7.13) 47/52 passing Match Highlights
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Jupiler Pro League (Belgium)
Bryan Reynolds (KVC Westerlo on loan from AS Roma) Started at RB and went the full 90’ in a 3-1 Loss against Gent (5.3/5.74) 38/49 passing
Griffin Yow (KVC Westerlo) Subbed on in the 87th‘ in a 3-1 Loss against Gent (-/5.97) 2/2 passing
​
Bundesliga (Austria)
Maurice Malone (Wolfsberger AC on loan from FC Augsburg) Started at LW and played 65‘ in a 2-0 Win against WSG Tirol (6.6/-) 2/4 shots on target, 13/20 passing
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Challenge League (Swiss 2nd Division)
Lucas Pos (FC Stade-Lausanne-Ouchy) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 6-0 Win against AC Bellinzona (-/-) Match Highlights
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Protathlima Cyta (Cyprus)
Andreas Christodoulou (APOEL Nicosia) Started at GK and went the full 90’ in a 4-3 Win against Aris Limassol (-/-) Match Highlights
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Ekstraklasa (Poland)
Ben Lederman (Raków Częstochowa) Started at RCM and played 70‘ in a 1-1 draw with Zagłębie Lubin. Raków have won the League (7.3/-) 1/1 shot on target, 30/35 passing Match Highlights
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First Division (Irish 2nd Division)
Giles Phillips (Waterford FC) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 0-0 draw at Longford Town (-/-)
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Ykkonen (Finnish 2nd Division)
Kyle Curinga (KPV) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Loss against IF Gnistan (-/-) Match Highlights
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May 28th
Europe
Premier league (England)
Christian Pulišić (Chelsea) Subbed on in the 87th‘ in a 1-1 draw with Newcastle (-/6.04) 1/1 shot on target, 2/2 passing Match Highlights
Brenden Aaronson (Leeds Utd) Subbed on in the 58th‘ in a 4-1 Loss against Tottenham. Leeds are Relegated (5.8/5.73) 9/13 passing Match Highlights
Weston Mckennie (Leeds United on loan from Juventus FC) Started at RM and played 59‘ in a 4-1 Loss against Tottenham (5.9/6.07) 0/2 shots on target, 14/19 passing
Antonee Robinson (Fulham) Started at LB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Loss at Manchester Utd (6.7/6.78) 30/39 passing Match Highlights
​
La Liga (Spain)
Luca de la Torre (Celta Vigo) Subbed on in the 45th‘ in a 1-0 Loss at Cadiz. Picked up a yellow in the 49th’ (6.3/5.82) 0/1 shot on target, 13/19 passing Match Highlights
​
2. Bundesliga (German 2nd Division)
George Bello (Arminia Bielefeld) Subbed on in the 55th‘ in a 4-0 Loss at Magdeburg. They’ll play in a relegation playoff against VfL Osnabrück (6.5/6.26) 1/1 shot on target, 8/9 passing
Julian Green (SpVgg Greuther Fürth) Started at LCM and played 82‘ in a 4-0 Win against Darmstadt. Scored their fourth goal in the 78th’ (8.0/7.95) 2/3 shots on target, 40/47 passing
Maximilian Dietz (SpVgg Greuther Fürth) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 4-0 Win against Darmstadt (7.4/6.96) 88/98 passing
Lennard Maloney (1. FC Heidenheim 1846) Started at LCM and played 54‘ in a 3-2 Win at Jahn Regensburg. Won the League and promoted to the Bundesliga (6.5/6.31) 1/1 shot on target, 14/27 passing Match Highlights
Nathaniel Brown (FC Nurnberg) Started at LB and went the full 90’ in a 1-0 Win at Paderborn. Won Player of the Match and picked up a yellow in the 73rd’ (7.7/7.54) 27/33 passing, 2 chances created
Ryan Malone (FC Hansa Rostock) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Win against Eintracht Braunschweig. Won Player of the Match and assisted on the first goal in the 58th’ (8.8/8.53) 0/4 shots on target, 68/75 passing, 2 chances created
Nils Fröling (FC Hansa Rostock) Started at LAM and played 59‘ in a 2-1 Win against Eintracht Braunschweig (6.6/6.51) 10/12 passing
Terrence Boyd (FC Kaiserslautern) Started at ST and played 79‘ in a 3-0 Loss against Fortuna Dusseldorf. Picked up a yellow in the 65th’ (6.4/6.42) 1/4 shots on target, 8/14 passing ,1 chance created
​
Eredivisie (Netherlands)
Djorde Mihailovic (AZ Alkmaar) Subbed on in the 67th‘ in a 2-1 Loss against PSV (6.2/6.26) 1/5 passing Match Highlights
Philippe Sandler (NEC Nijmegen) Started at RCB and went the full 90’ in a 1-1 draw at Fortuna Sittard (7.5/6.89) 0/1 shot on target, 41/46 passing ,1 chance created Match Highlights
Ricardo Pepi (FC Groningen on loan from FC Augsburg) Started at ST and went the full 90’ in a 5-0 Loss against Sparta Rotterdam. Groningen are relegated (6.3/6.17) 17/22 passing Match Highlights
Kik Pierie (Excelsior on loan from Ajax) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 3-2 Loss at FC Volendam (6.5/7.01) 0/1 shot on target, 33/40 passing, 2 chances created Match Highlights
​
Jupiler Pro League (Belgium)
Mark McKenzie (KRC Genk) Started at LCB and went the full 90’ in a 3-1 Win at Club Bruges (7.1/6.76) 32/35 passing
​
Premier League (Scotland)
Scott Pittman (Livingston FC) Started at LW and went the full 90’ in a 2-0 Loss at St.Johnstone (6.3/6.19) 0/2 shots on target, 21/26 passing ,1 chance created Match Highlights
​
Bundesliga (Austria)
Sebastian Soto (SK Austria Klagenfurt) Started at RST and played 17‘ in a 3-2 Loss at Salzburg (5.9/-) 0/1 shot on target, 2/3 passing
​
NordicBet Liga (Danish 2nd Division)
José Gallegos (SønderjyskE FC) Started at CAM and played 89‘ in a 3-3 draw at Naestved. Picked up a yellow in the 75th’ (6.3/-) 0/1 shot on target, 23/29 passing, 1 chance created Match Highlights
​
Premyer Liqa (Azerbaijan)
Kenny Saief (Neftchi Baku) Started at RST and went the full 90’ in a 1-0 Win against Sabah FK. Picked up a yellow in the 63rd’ (-/-) Match Highlights
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Prva Liga - Qualification - Leg 2 (Slovenia)
Steven Juncaj (ND Gorica) Started at LWB and played 58‘ in a 1-1 draw with Aluminij. Gorica are relegated 4-2 on aggregate (-/-)
​
South America
Serie A (Brazil)
Johnny (Sport Club Internacional) Started at LCM and went the full 90’ in a 2-0 Win against Bahia. Won Player of the Match by scoring the game winner in the 49th’ (8.3/8.23) 1/2 shots on target, 28/32 passing Match Highlights
​
LigaPro Serie A (Ecuador)
Michael Hoyos (Independiente del Valle) Started at ST and went the full 90’ in a 3-2 Loss against LDU de Quito. Scored their opener in the 14th’ (-/-)
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Liga 1 (Peru)
Matías Succar (CA Mannucci) Started at ST and went the full 90’ in a 2-1 Loss against FBC Melgar (-/-) Match Highlights
​
Past week's Post

Start of Alex Series Start of Teacher Series: Lesson 1 Previous: Meet the Parents: Fated Victory Party Next Royal Road / Class Picture Alex and Freki Artwork /Sub: Random3X (lore and more) Discord
​
July 20th, year 024 Angels Descent
The class, with two of their teachers, were en route to the Ironwoodlands. They had been on the road for a few days as the Ironwoods themselves were at the far west of Greed’s domain, and the gate was more central to the region.
“So, you kids ever been to the Ironwoods?” All but Tasha and Alex shook their heads to indicate no.
“I’ve apparently only been once when I met Elissa’s father… at least that’s what my journal said… memory is still hazy for me… Yuu, you’ve been here a few times, right?”
“Yeah, when master got tired of me making machines that destroyed buildings, he threw me to the elves to ‘play’, as he called it.”
“Any advice? Elissa hasn’t really talked about her home much, so I’m kind of in the dark myself.” The class focused their attention on Yuu, who held her hands to her hips and puffed her chest with pride.
“Of course, young one, I shall educate you as you do your students. After all, I am an expert in interacting with Ironwood Elves!!”
“Yuu… you are like a few hours older than me; I wouldn’t call me young?”
“Silence, young one!”
“So what should we do then? Are there any rules like for courting an Ironwood elf?” Maxwell asked, glancing at Tasha.
“Well, first off, ignore Tasha,” Yuu said bluntly. “Second, a big thing to remember is there are three clans of Ironwood elves. First are the worker folk; they do the everyday stuff. The second is the warrior clans; they are self-explanatory. Finally, there are the outside clans.”
“Outside clans?” Bea repeated.
“Oh, I’m part of that!!!” Tasha said, beaming a smile at everyone.
“They are clans not taught the normal ways of Ironwood elves. This is so they can actually interact with the outside world and not cause a diplomatic incident.”
“Uh… what do you mean?” Daisy asked, only to follow Yuu’s gaze towards Alex.
“Oh yeah… Elissa is part of the Warrior Clan, and the first time I met her, she gave me a friendly little bump to the chest.”
“That sounds cute,” Daisy muttered, thinking of all the times she had seen the pair be so lovey-dovey.
“Cute bit was when he flew through three walls and shattered his spine.”
“WHAT?!!!”
“Yeah, the warrior clan greet people they consider as friends with a full-force punch. It’s why their warriors are weirdly durable and able to endure considerable pain,” Yuu explained, glancing at Tasha, who had learnt such a skill from Elissa herself.
“So first rule, you see any elf with a weapon, flip them off, stick out your tongue and be as rude as possible. The second they think you are a friend, you will suffer for it.”
“My brother has been brought here?” Daisy muttered, feeling a pang of panic about her brother receiving such treatment.
“Oh, don’t worry; Elissa will keep them safe.”
“So, will they treat the Big Chief like a friend?”
“Oh yeah, certainly… this one, however,” Yuu said, gesturing to Alex.
“I’m technically rather hated by the Ironwood elves.”
“Why? Aren’t you marrying their princess?” Daisy asked, shocked.
“Well, need I remind you her brother took an arena full of noble children with high-ranking lords hostage to rescue her? They adore Elissa. I’m just the human bastard who stole her away.”
“To be honest, sir, from what Miss Yuu has told us, why don’t they just kill you?”
“Blunt question Maxwell but a thing to remember Elves live for a very long time. They see me more as a short fling that’ll last a few decades, maybe a century or two. After which, I’ll die, and she’ll move back.”
“And you’re ok with this?”
“Maxwell… a thing you’ll learn when you find the one… you will never care what the world thinks so long as you can be with her,” Alex replied as he looked out the window wistfully.
“We’re almost at the first town,” the carriage driver announced. “I ain’t gonna take you any further.”
“Good, we can get some rest in a real bed,” Kline grumbled.
Stepping out of the carriage, the class came face to face with their first experience of an elf settlement. They had originally had the image of what had always been written about elven homes. Buildings entwined with trees. Great structures as if moulding nature itself.
The image before them was an entirely metallic set-up. Every building was coated in metal plates and had countless spikes. Worse still was the severed monster heads resting on each building's roof.
“Big Chief?”
“You won’t get much rest outside the Ironwoods capital. This region is infested with monsters that attack every night.”
“Why would they settle in a region with monsters?!!!” Kline cried out.
“The majority of their population are warriors. Where else can they get a good fight?” Yuu replied.
“So Miss Elissa had to fight every night since she was a child?” Daisy asked once again, feeling worry begin to bubble up.
“You didn’t?” Tasha asked, looking perplexed. “Everyone around here, regardless of clans, learns how to fight monsters from when we first can walk. Only the warrior clan focuses on it and gets all the fun.”
The class decidedly ignored Tasha’s comment and chose a fortress-looking inn for where they would rest for the evening. Though they weren’t certain how much rest they’d get, especially after seeing the monster head hanging near the entrance. The innkeeper welcomed them with open fists, only to be rebuffed as they had been instructed to do.
“Fine, here’s your keys, you ungrateful pieces of crap!”
Throwing the key at the class, they only barely dodged as they lodged themselves into the wall behind them. A wall they couldn’t help but notice had numerous holes from past throws of the keys.
“Me and Yuu are gonna settle in at the tavern and have a few. You can get some rest,” Alex said as he sat at a table, ignoring the baleful glares pointed in his direction.
“Come get us if you need help,” Yuu added as she ignored an elf actively punching her in the face.
The class settled into a large room with bunkbeds enough for the whole class and their teachers. As they rested, trying to clear away the fatigue of a long journey, the hours began to pass.
“So Tasha… what are your parents like?” Maxwell asked, looking up from his spot on a bottom bunk.
“They are rather boring. Daddy works as a clerk in Hades seat. Mum works as a monster cleaner.”
“Monster cleaner?” Daisy repeated.
“Yeah, the dead bodies of monsters we slay we display on our buildings to show how strong a monster we beat. Well, after a while, they go icky and need cleaning. Mum handles that.”
“So, the really big monster head we saw near the entrance?”
“Yeah, means the guys here must be really strong.”
“I’m starting to wonder what I should fear more, the monsters or the elves,” Bea muttered as she snuggled on Gunter’s chest.
“Not sure what you mean… but I’m sure my family will love Stampy,” Tasha proudly took the small creature out of her travel bag, where it proceeded to munch on a piece of plant she offered it.
“Kwooooon!!!”
“I’m more wondering what they’ll think of me,” Maxwell muttered to himself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
“Sparky… come on, boy, I got some snakkums for you,” Daisy said as she held out a piece of travel jerky for her duck-sized dragon. The small creature poked its head out of her travel pack and snatched the dried meat before retreating.
“He’s been rather scared lately,” Daisy muttered.
“Probably the field of danger here,” Tasha replied as she scratched Stampy’s long neck.
“Danger field?” Kline echoed, looking nervous.
“Can’t you feel it?” Tasha asked, looking confused. “Try to feel the aura.”
Relaxing, the class focused their senses, and that was when the pressure began to rise. They had been able to ignore it so far as it had become more like background noise. It was nowhere near as bad as when their instructors pressured them directly. But it was enough to cause minor discomfort.
“What is that, Tasha?” Bea asked.
“That is, um… it's all the monsters' aura getting spread across the woods.”
“So what we are feeling is…” Kline began before trailing off with a look of horror.
In one of their lectures with Alex, he had taught them you can increase the density of aura in an area by focusing and compacting it, but the problem with that is it reduced the range. Another option was you could increase the number of people releasing aura. Experiencing this pressure from a vague distance meant the numbers must be considerable or very strong. Likely both from what had been described.
“Why in the hell would people live here?!!!”
“Well, the trees were the original reason,” Tasha replied, oblivious to how nervous Kline was starting to become.
“The trees are really big, and iron whatsits grow through them. That’s why they call them ironwood trees. Also, my ancestors liked fighting and making friends, so here they could do both.”
As the class began to ponder who unhinged and crazy Tasha’s people must actually be, the entire inn violently shook. Jumping from their beds, the class immediately went into action mode and rushed down the stairs to find several of the inn’s staff rushing out the front door with weapons.
Looking around, they found their teachers relaxing with drinks, still having a friendly conversation as if they were oblivious to the dangers outside. Running towards the pair, they stood at the ready.
“Oh hey kids, me and Yuu were about to grab a deck of cards. Want to join in a game or two?”
“Sir, the inn is under attack!” Daisy shouted indignantly.
“And?” Alex replied, tilting his head.
“We should help!” Maxwell answered as if stating the obvious.
“Why?” Yuu answered this time. Both teachers looked confused. Ignoring the cries for help and pained screams coming from outside.
“Because, sir, you have the power to help!!!” Daisy shouted.
“And that makes me beholden to them? Daisy, I gained this power to ensure my freedom to do what I wanted. It may seem callous, but just because I have the power to help does not mean I or anyone else are under any obligation to help.”
“Big Chief, please help!!” Gunter pleaded.
“Sorry, but the dork is right. We may have the strength to help resolve many situations, but people do not grow if someone else solves every little thing.”
“Kids… this is a lesson you will need to learn someday… You can’t help everyone, and in reality, you shouldn’t. You will either run yourself ragged or become someone else’s tool. Gain power to ensure freedom. If you kids want to help, you can go and help. But me and Yuu here will be starting a professional game of snap.”
“Fine, we will go out and help them!” Bea shouted indignantly as the class stormed out of the tavern and out into the town.
The sight that greeted them was one of abject chaos. There were already a few collapsed buildings, and they could see people running around in a panic. Down the road from their inn, they could even see the remains of one of the attacking monsters.
It was a giant beast about the size of a two-storey tall building. It was covered in boney plates that, even from how far away they were standing, looked needlessly thick. While its tail looked like a massive boney club, the kind used by giants.
“Earthen Drakes… Armoursauses, if I had to guess,” Maxwell said, looking at the remains.
“What can we do then?” Bea asked as she channelled her energy into bringing out her possession summon.
“We can spread out in teams of two. One enhancer and one projection and focus on the small fry,” Kline suggested as he fired an accurate shot that took the head off a small turkey-sized lizard monster.
“Ok, Kline and Tasha, you go that way. Gunter and Bea, you go to the south. Maxwell, you and me will head east,” Daisy declared. Maxwell hesitated for a moment looking at Tasha before nodding. With their plans decided, the class split up to face the attack.

About 2 weeks ago, a cat showed up on our front porch. He’s long-haired, and was clearly not an outdoor cat but was well-cared for. He was clueless about everything to do with the outdoors and was terrified of everything. He also kept trying to come inside. At the end of the day, he was still there, so we brought him inside and he slept in my room. He used the litter box and scarfed down a ton of food (he must’ve been starving) and then promptly fell asleep next to my head. He’s very cuddly. The next day, we took him to the local vet (the only one in town, where we live in the middle of nowhere). He has no microchip, but is neutered. He’s also really young, only 5-9 months old. This was surprising to learn, because he’s massive! His feet alone are literally just a little smaller than the palm of my hand. Friends and family posted about him on Facebook. We put up posters everywhere, and I left my contact info with the vet. No cats matching his description have been reported missing within 50 miles of here, and honestly the cat is way too stupid to survive traveling far alone.
He’s adjusted well to living with us and so far has been an absolute angel . He’s the most laid back kitten I’ve ever encountered. Would it be ok to call him “our cat” at this point? We’d obviously still return him if we could find his original owners.

I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.
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I was pouring drink number three when my phone rang… I'm 20 years old, a little drunk and in about an hour, I will have almost shot my colleague in the chest in front of three police officers and two frozen dead bodies. Weird. I can't say that I'm mentally ready for what I'm about to see this evening, who’s ever really ready to walk into a garage with a Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullets and two frozen gang bangers inside. My name is Grant and These are My Funeral Home Stories.
Chapter Two: three drinks, Two dead & One Candy Bar
It's about six o'clock on the 3rd Tuesday in February and factoring in the windchill, it's negative 14 degrees outside. I've been off of work for about an hour and I'm not on call tonight…So naturally, I'm just finishing up my second drink and considering whether to order pizza or Chinese tonight. I use my finger to stop by drink from bubbling over and the phone rings. It’s Andy, one of the directors from the funeral home that’s on call when Ned and I are off AND apparently the person he's on call with this evening is unreachable…If it's your job to be on call, you don't want this to happen. It's almost the equivalent of a no call no show at any other job. If you're on call, the only thing you have to do is wait for the phone to ring and when it does ring, you answer it. It’s really not that hard.
Andy is calling me to ask if I would fill in and go on a police call with him. There was a shooting and apparently there are two frozen dead bodies in a car… inside the police station. OK. Why are they at the police station? Great question. Apparently it was too cold outside to investigate and process the crime scene so they moved the crime scene into a heated garage inside a police station. This all sounds incredibly interesting to me but there's only one problem… I'm drunk. Well, on my way to drunk and I'm not old enough to drink. I'm not going anywhere near a police station. I explained to Andy that I'm in no condition to drive to the funeral home and he'd have to find someone else. He interrupted me and said, “ but you're not old enough to drink. Stay put. I'm picking you up. See you in 10.” He hung up the phone before I had time to argue.
Welp. Looks like I'm going to the police station against all better judgment. I finish my third drink as I put on my black 3 button double breasted black suit by Chaps that I picked up at Kohls. (Side note: all my other suits were at the dry cleaners. I hate this suit. It makes me look like a walking rectangle.) It's our funeral home’s policy that we dress cleanly and professionally while in public. This means you ruin a lot of good dress clothes but at least you look sharp… and you can write off your dry cleaning as a job related expense.
I run a razor over my face sans shaving cream because I’m in a hurry and our funeral home also has a strict no facial hair policy. No mustaches, no goatees and definitely no beards. I'm not sure why this is a rule, It just is. I take an extra long look at myself in the mirror to make sure I have myself in order. The last thing I want to do tonight is walk into a police station looking like a sloppy, drunk unshaven underage mess. Could I get fired for getting an underage drinking ticket while on a death call? I sure hope not. I hear a horn honking in the driveway. I peak out the front window, Andy’s out front in our 2004 black Pontiac minivan. It’s a pretty slick…Instead of back seats, our van has a polished oak floor with rollers spaced evenly down the length of the van. These rollers aid in sliding caskets in and out without scratching the van or caskets.
I’m almost ready. I decided to wear a heavy wool four button top coat, scarf and rubberized dress boots by Ecco, all black of course. (Side note: Always spend extra money on ‘nicer’ boots. You don't want your socks wet on death calls.) Although I hate the suit I have on, I am wearing my favorite necktie. It's white, black and navy blue diagonally striped made from handwoven silk by Ralph Lauren. Very sharp. Remember this tie… my favorite tie, it’ll come up again later. On my way out the door I stuffed a handful of garlic flavored chips in my mouth and pulled a Nestle Butterfinger candy bar out of the pantry. The garlic will help cover up the three Jack and Cokes I just had and put a little food in my stomach. The Butterfinger…well, that's my reward. I'll eat it on the way home. I fucking love Butterfingers and why not reward myself for what I'm about to do? I'm not even on call tonight. I deserve it.
From my house to the police station, it’s about 10 minutes… a straight shot with no traffic. Andy starts nervously giggling almost immediately when my door closes and buckle my seatbelt. Funeral Directors are generally interesting people but our pal, Andy, he's a real card. I'm going to tell you a few things about Andy and hopefully won't sound too judgmental in the process. Andy had a gastric bypass surgery three years ago and as has lost about 150 pounds andI don't think he's gone clothes shopping since his weight loss. All of his suits look like they're about five sizes too big. His skin is loose around his jawline giving him a permanent droopy dog expression. It's weird seeing someone whose clothes and skin don't fit their body. He's a nervous guy and he's always afraid of getting in trouble…but somehow he's blindly confident. That's it for the positives.
Andy talks the most deliberate and malicious shit about everyone in the office. It's pathological at this point, I'm not sure he's even aware of it. You really have to watch what you say around this guy… I mean, if you don't want it repeated or used against you, don't say it around Andy. Andy's jumped from funeral home to funeral home around the country settling in towns just long enough to fuck things up and make a quick exit. He’s was a total creep and we found out a few years later that he was stealing from one of our funeral homes. He had his moments but for the most part, I didn't want anything to do with this guy…Especially after drinking almost half of my $36 bottle of Gentleman Jack. Actually, I'm probably just drunk enough to enjoy his company.
We turn on to Roosevelt, the police station is on our right. Andy has managed to keep the van under control even with the several inches of black ice and snow covering the roads. Andy tells me that we're to call a number when we're outside the police station parking garage and an officer will open the giant chain gate to let us in. The car with the dead bodies is in a separate heated garage inside the building to thaw out for processing.
It just dawned on me, I'm kind of hammered and last time I checked I'm still not old enough to drink… I feel my anxiety levels rising…I’m not super eager to walk into a police station in my current condition. My plan is to keep my head down and stay as far out of the officers’ breath smelling distance as possible. I'm so happy I decided to eat those chips before I left. I can still taste the garlic. Garlic breath is better than booze breath. I'm fairly certain they won't lock me up for having bad breath.
Andy calls the number, the gate opens and we drive down a pretty drastic slope and enter the garage filled with a fleet of police cars. There must be 40 decked out Chevy Impalas polished up and ready for dispatch. We pull forward and an officer signals us to stop next to a plain gray door in the center of a the cinder block wall on our right. Andy loaded two stretchers in the van this evening. One standard, one oversized, we get out of the van and unload both without incident. The officer walks to the back of the van and tells us to follow him.
We walk through the gray door and quickly move through three different beige hallways, no windows, just ugly plain cinderblock. I realized that I've completely lost my bearings. When we come to the end of the hallway with another gray door. I feel a combination of claustrophobia and vertigo hit me all at once or maybe that was drink number three kickin’ in. The officer opens the door and Andy and I wheel our stretchers into a 20 by 20 garage lit by the brightest fluorescent lights I've ever experienced. The temperature of the light in this room is unnerving among other things.
'Welcome to the crime lab garage' I think to myself. Immediately upon entering the room, I'm almost knocked to the floor by a smell that burns my nasal cavities. It wasn't the smell of rotting flesh or piss and shit, I’ve smelled all those things before. This was new. It’s so unique but the more Im exposed to it the more I realize I’ve smelled this before at the funeral home but I can’t place it….Then it hits me almost as intensely as the smell itself. Ammonia, that's it! It smells like someone took two or three large bottles of ammonia and just poured them all over the room. I look at Andy as we park the stretchers. We make eye contact and I pointed my nose while simultaneously making a confused face. “What the fuck is that?” I whisper.
Andy pulls two pair of blue heavy duty surgical gloves out of the front pocket of his stretcher, hands me a pair and then proceeds to blow my mind. He quietly tells me that the strong ammonia odor is coming from the blood. Apparently when someone dies suddenly all the blood cells in the body make one last screaming effort to stay alive and dump a ton of waste into the bloodstream. The waste is what gives the blood a strong scent of ammonia. You know when someone says they can smell blood in a movie or TV show? I think If this is what they're talking about.
Now that I have my gloves on and have adjusted to the smell, I take off my overcoat and suit jacket and tuck my tie between two buttons on my white dress shirt. This is simply precautionary. There is nothing worse than dipping your tie into something gross. It's almost always UNcleanable.
In this moment, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Perhaps it's the alcohol but something feels off. Under rows and rows of fluorescent lights there’s a maroon Chevy Cavalier riddled with bullet holes with all four of its doors and trunk wide open. Upon initial inspection, my eyes are drawn to two dead men in the backseat and rusted hood with a smattering of bullet holes. It seems that most of the shots were through the windshield, windows and door panels.The windshield is barely able to hold itself up.
Andy and I walk around the car to figure out our plan of attack. He flips open a black vinyl body bag, unzips it and places it on the ground next to the car and he tells me his plan. “If they’re frozen in a seated position, we won't be able to move em that easily… So we'll wiggle them out, lay them on the body bags and zip up the disaster pouch around them.” This sounds good to me. We move in.
We decided to start with the body in the driver's side backseat. The door’s already open and the hinges appear to be hyper extended. The crime scene techs probably bent the hinges while they were scrubbing the scene. Now up close, I’m finally able to take in the two dead men sitting in the backseat in front of me. These guys must have been a couple years older than me, both wearing Timberlands, black jeans and black jackets… like big puffy down jackets. One man has a New Era baseball cap on backwards while the other has a black stocking cap atop his head. I didn't see any logos but the brain matter, bullet holes and blood may have made it hard to notice. The ammonia smell inside the car is completely overwhelming. Blood is literally covering everything in the backseat. Chunks of thawing brain and meat are all over the headrest. I pick up a piece near the seat belt and squeeze it with my middle finger and thumb. It's still a little frozen so it crunches a bit before turning into mush between my fingers. I wiped my hand on a clean part of the interior.
Bullet holes are weird…For something that can end your life so quickly, they don't leave much of a mark on their way in…BUT the way out is a totally different story. I have no idea how many times these men were shot but they’re covered and destroyed by bullet holes. Chin, hands, thighs under the eyeballs and everywhere else. There wasn’t a part of either of these men’s bodies that didn’t have at least one bullet hole… I didn't see their feet though…if I’m being completely transparent.
This is gore. This is a complete horror show. Someone wanted these men dead… like seriously dead. Was it the driver or could it have been the front seat passenger? There must have been someone sitting in the front seat, right? Why else would two grown men sit in the backseat together if there was an open front seat? By the number of holes, I come to the conclusion that at least two people had to have shot up this car….Far too many holes for one shooter and it was definitely people they thought they were close to…
With half my body in the car, the smell of ammonia is blending with the smell of shit…which is undoubtedly oozing from one or all of the many holes in these men's stomachs. Thankfully, the taste of the garlic chips and whiskey I had earlier keeping me from gagging. Both men looked like they were sleeping like someone's dad or brother in the backseat on a road trip but riddled with holes and covered and smelly blood and falling human chunks.
There's only enough room for one of us in the car’s backseat door opening so Andy gets in the driver's seat backwards and reaches back around the front seat to help shimmy the body out. I press the button and unbuckle the seatbelt, it whips back into its home position startling Andy and I. Everything in this car is covered with blood or some sort of human matter. My gloves are literally covered in blood from just unbuckling the seatbelt and now the taste of the ammonia smell is dripping its way into my mouth through my throat. The officers are having some sort of quiet discussion standing by the door we came in earlier. It's not uncommon for police officers to be completely apathetic about crime scenes when the funeral home arrives. The investigation is basically over tonight these officers couldn't care less about their scene. They just wanted to get these bodies moved out of the garage so they could get home to their families. I get that… but their lack of supervision is troubling, especially with what happens next.
I am now completely hunched over the body in the back passenger seat while Andy is supervising from the front turned around in the driver's seat with his gloved hands on the headrest. I tell Andy that I think I'm strong enough to grab this man’s right forearm and slide his body out on my own. When I grabbed the man's forearm, I immediately feel something isn't right. I've grabbed lots of dead people's forearms before. None felt like this though. It was so hard and rigid….don’t get me wrong I understand this man is frozen BUT whatever I'm grabbing on to isn't human. It's something else. It's hard and feels like metal one of those cheap metal canes you'd buy at a drugstore. The three drinks circulating through my bloodstream make me curious but pensive. I tell Andy that I'm not touching a man's arm and that there's something else in this man’s jacket.
I interrupted the police officers conversation. “Hey, something isn't right here.” An officer and I switch places as he pulls out a tactical knife and starts cutting away the sleeve to the blood soaked down jacket. “It’s a FUCKING GUN.” I look over his shoulder and see the open sleeve of a jacket revealing a sawed off shotgun. The inside of the coat was some sort of bright orange material so the short barrel of the shotgun stand out…and so did the trigger but not because of its color. It stood out because of frozen dead man’s finger hooked over and frozen around it. Did I mention the gun was cocked. This means that the slightest movement would have caused a sudden discharge… The gun would have fired directly into the driver's seat, the seat where Andy was supervising from AND apparently Andy and I noticed this at the same time.
The next sound we hear was an officer saying, “Gun! Loaded gun!”
Andy and I step back while the officers deal with the gun… he's freaked out…I can tell by the blotchy greenish yellow color he skin has turned in the last 30 seconds. Andy says, “I don't like guns. I don't like guns.”
“It's cool, man. Nobody got shot.” I say not being too sympathetic. I'm definitely drunk now and the idea of a frozen dead man shooting my partner in the chest is kind of hilarious, even if it would have been my fault. I giggle internally. Andy quickly moves towards the door and says, “I need to get some fresh air” and scurries out like an asshole letting the door slam behind him. Almost at the same moment the door closed. The three officers approached me from behind, “We got it out….It was loaded. Your buddy's lucky you didn’t shoot him in the chest.” I just snicker and tell the officers my partner needed some air and that I'll make the removals myself. How hard could it be? I'll just grab and pull.
Frozen bodies move in one piece while regular room temperature bodies are just floppy deadweight. These fellas are frozen solid…they felt like moving a heavy chair or peculiar shaped table out of your friend's car. Square peg in round holes, it was actually considerably easier than I anticipated.
The sound of the two bodies hitting a cold cement after pulling them out was very satisfying…a simple loud hollow frozen thud. I'm surrounded by awfulness and all I can think about is how proud I am that I just handled this crime scene on my own. I can't wait to eat that Butterfinger waiting for me in the car. It's a fitting reward but also something to get rid of this ammonia and garlic taste overpowering my senses at the moment.
Andy still hasn't come back and we're about to zip up the last body bag. An officer had put on a pair of gloves to help me maneuver the second man's rigid bent knees into the body bag. This man's body was like a complicated Tetris piece. Once in, we each grab a zipper on either side of the black vinyl bag and zip our respective ends until they meet in the middle. I nod my head at the officer and say, “That's how it's done!”
The officer looks at me sternly and says, “Did you just come from a party?” I look at him confused and respond, ”What?”
The officer tells me that he just got a waft of alcohol. “It reeks like booze over here.” I closed my mouth quickly and my heart begins to beat out of my chest. I must smell like a distillery… so much for those garlic chips. Laughing, I say, “On a Tuesday? Come on, man!” The officer stands up and says, “Let's run a tox screen on these guys to find out how fucked up they were before getting blasted.”
Looks like a dodged a bullet. How did he smell my whiskey breath over the ammonia smell? Does my breath just smell like straight rubbing alcohol? I feel bad that these dead guys got blamed for MY alcohol breath but, at least, I won't be walking out of here with an underage drinking ticket.
Calming down and feeling relieved. I looked down on my shirt and see that my necktie, my very favorite Ralph Lauren necktie, had fallen out of my shirt at some point and had been dipped into some smelly smelly blood. Fuck! Of course I ruined my favorite necktie on a night I'm not even supposed to be working. I undo the knot and throw the tie into a biohazard bag. The rest of the removal was kind of a blur because I was laser focused thinking about that Butterfinger I left in the car. The alcohol plus all the blood smell I kind of made my stomach sour. My mouth starts to water thinking about that candy bar.
One of the officers helps me wheel the stretchers out to the van in the main area of the police station parking garage. I can see exhaust coming out of our van. It's on? Did we leave the van running? I open the back of the van to find Andy laying down in the center of the wooden roller board taking up the entire back of the van. The sound startles him and he quickly jumps up to a seated position and says, “I'm sorry man, guns really freak me out. I almost got shot…. I thought I was gonna pass out.”
I notice a yellow rapper sitting next to his right leg. He noticed that I noticed. “Oh yeah, I owe you a candy bar.” He says in a nonchalant manner.
All at once, my dislike for Andy hit me like a tidal wave. I ruined my favorite tie and this asshole ate my candy bar? Andy, sensing my disappointment and anger, didn't say another word and I imagine what it would have been like if that shot gun would have gone off.
My name is Grant and these are My Funeral Home Stories.
​
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Part 3
Day 14
Chloe walked into what had once been the beautiful home of the Garrisons. The room she walked into was the main hall. It was large and square-shaped with a room on both sides and a hall on the other side of the door. In the middle of the room, a large antler chandelier lay in a destroyed twisted mess on the hardwood floor. She looked over at the walls and saw a few small circular holes. Bullet holes. She thought, taking a step closer to get a better look. Herman followed her wagging his tail like nothing was wrong with this situation. She looked down toward the floor and spotted large claw marks on the hardwood floor. Some looked like hound claw marks (she became acquainted enough with the marks to recognize them) but others were much larger. Far too large to be from one of the hounds.
After scanning the room for another minute she decided she’d go into the left room first. The left room was a small lounge that seemed unassuming at first glance until she noticed the couch that had been thrown against the wall and the dried blood stains on the walls and carpet. It was human blood and was mostly frozen.
She walked across the main hall and into the room on the right. This room was unassuming with very little apart from bookshelves and a small desk. It also seemed relatively undisturbed with little to no damage.
She walked down the hall into the main part of the house. This main section had an open-air kitchen/dining room and a large living room. It looked horrible, it was clear a massacre had happened here. Blood was everywhere on the floors, the walls, and even the ceiling in certain spots. Most of the blood was a dark red with occasional splatters of yellow-greenish blood. She saw bits of muscle and tissue in the blood, and all around that was wreckage. Their large 100-inch flat-screen TV lay crushed on the floor. The leather couch was flipped over and ripped in countless places. The fan lay on the floor looking like it had a sledgehammer taken to it. The kitchen was worse though… slumped against the wall was a mostly eaten body. It was essentially just a skeleton with small bits of meat and tendon still clinging on. Despite being absolutely terrified something made her want to get a closer look. She noticed most of the bones were broken if not shattered, and it wasn’t until that point she realized everything below the rib cage was missing. She yelped and looked away. The rest of the kitchen was destroyed with the drawers and cupboards broken, and one section of cupboards laying on the ground with shattered glass all around it. Lastly, the dining room. Another antler chandelier lay destroyed on the ground and the table was leaned over like it had been used as firing cover.
She walked over to the dining table only to realize another destroyed body lay behind it. This one looked like it had been thrown around by the look of its breaks. This one only had half a skull with the frontal and parietal bones absent. She looked and saw this was wearing dog tags. She let out a small sob when she saw that. She knew who it had to be. It had to be Timothy Garrison. She and Timothy were the same age and had dated through most of high school. After they graduated they had a mutual break up and she met Joey in college, but she and Timothy remained good friends. He had come to their wedding and he was the one who taught her how to shoot a rifle, and he had been the only person in his family to serve in the military.
Herman slowly walked up to the body and started sniffing it.
“Get away from him!” She screamed at the dog.
She started to sob when her brain seemed to kick back into gear. Pull yourself together and cry later, She told herself. She stood up, wiped the tears off her face, and kept going. She went back over to the kitchen and yanked their fridge open. It was stocked to the brim with meats, fruits, vegetables, and bottles. She restrained her excitement at the sight but still grabbed as much as she could. She filled a duffel bag full of only a portion of the goodies in their fridge then moved on. CREAK! The loud sound interrupted her walk over to the pantry. It came from the wooden ceiling just above her, and whatever it was that caused it sounded large. She froze and listened for more sounds, but after a while of nothing she moved on hoping beyond all hope that it was just a house noise.
She and Herman crept over to the pantry and with a quick pull she opened it. The pantry was large and also stocked with food. Most of it was crap that would expire or had already expired, but what excited her was the large sack of potatoes sitting by the door. She grabbed the sack and set it on top of the duffle bag by the fridge.
CREAK! This one was louder than the last and sent a chill down her spine. She wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to run out of the house or go upstairs and investigate. Her head was telling her she should leave but the other part of her so wanted to know what was making that sound. Finally, she made a decision. She’d search the bottom floor then she would go upstairs to check out the noise. CREAK! This one was the quietest so far, coming from below her. The basement, she thought, looking down at the floor.
She crept down a hall on the first floor with Herman right behind her. She was following a trail of blood like it was a trail of breadcrumbs. It was a deep crimson red and there was a lot of it. Whoever was bleeding definitely wasn’t alive anymore, she thought. She slowly followed the trail up to a white door which was now half covered in blood. Shakily she reached for the blood-covered knob and pulled the door open. It was the basement staircase but she looked at the way the blood had puddled and it told a story. They had hurried halfway down the stairs before something knocked them down to the bottom. There they are killed and then dragged into another section of the basement. She slowly walked down the stairs watching each step carefully until finally, her boot made contact with the linoleum floor.
Meanwhile…
I sat messing with and poking at the satellite phone trying to see why it wouldn’t send a call through. I’d looked through the manual and popped it open to see if anything had broken, but it was perfectly fine. I angrily smacked the phone against the coach, but still, nothing happened. At last, I set the phone down in defeat hoping Chloe was ok.
I turned from the couch to the window and saw Gretchen and Mom still busy with the shoveling. For the amount of snow on the driveway they’d made good work. Almost half of the driveway was clear of snow and covered in salt.
I watched on for a while before I heard a little beep. I looked over and saw the little screen of the satellite phone was showing an empty battery. I smacked my palm into my forehead annoyed by my stupidity.
“Hey Alby, can you get me some batteries?” I asked, looking over at him.
He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen a minute or two later he came back out holding the box of batteries.
“Thank you!” I said taking the box and quickly popping two new batteries in.
The basement was dark, very dark. Chloe could hardly see a thing, but she had thought of this scenario and pulled a flashlight from one of her pockets. Ca-Click! The thin beam of the flashlight kicked on. She was expecting to see the light illuminate the wall on the other side of the room or maybe a piece of furniture. But it illuminated a wall of webs. She saw through the webs at least a dozen cocoons far more than just the Garrison family. But even worse she saw dozens and dozens of stingers. They’d made the basement into a nest.
Bzzz…
The satellite phone continued to buzz and an uproar began to grow around her. Herman let out a growl and looked ready to pounce. Chloe in a hurry grabbed Herman’s collar and started running upstairs with him. The basement became full of the sound of screeches and she heard something big started moving down there. She sprinted as quickly as she could, making it to the top of the stairs and turning around to see at least a dozen stingers following her. Rat-a-tatatatatat!! She shot a barrage of bullets down at the stingers hitting most of them. Then something big appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Two things actually. Two hounds. She yelped and then slammed the door shut. She looked around quickly for something to barricade the door. Her eyes met a small dresser in a bedroom near the door. She pulled it out and shoved it against the door. CRACK! It came from the other side of the door and was quickly followed by a loud slam. She grabbed the still-growling Herman and started pulling him along with her. After a minute he started walking by her side and she let him go.
Suddenly she remembered the walkie and pressed the button.
“Joey… Joey, I'm here!” She yelled half excited and half still terrified.
I let out a sigh of relief; “Did you check out the Garrisons already?” He asked.
“Sort of… I’m still over there,” She explained.
She thought about telling me what she’d encountered but didn’t want to overly worry me. Plus recounting that day's events would just make things worse for her, not better.
“Ok, just be safe. I love you,” I told her.
“Love you too,” She said.
Bzzz…
She sat in the kitchen near her bags thinking for a minute. Since the crash, she hadn’t heard a thing from the basement door which made her start to suspect that the stairs had collapsed. Her curiosity had gotten desperate and she now felt like she had to check what was upstairs. She would never forgive herself if someone was still alive up there and died because she didn’t go and help them.
She slowly crept upstairs, her rifle trained and Herman at her side. The Garrison's house was set on a hill in such a way that the second floor was larger than the first. The second floor was made up of four halls that made a square with rooms within and outside of that square. The spiral stairs entered a corner of the square. Chloe reached the top stair and looked down the halls. Both were wrecked like upstairs but down one of the adjoining halls a body lay on the floor, or what was left of a body. She slowly walked over and saw this was by far the worst body she’d seen so far.
This one looked like it had been eaten similarly to Carl. The sternum and ribs were shattered and the spine was broken, but this one was worse. The bones were covered in bites and scratches, but worst of all the splatters around the body were immense; the person had likely struggled while they were being eaten alive. Chloe shivered at the thought and could only hope that they didn’t suffer long.
She stepped away from the body and got a better look around her. Apart from the body and the blood around it, there wasn’t much sign of death up there, but it still looked awful. Just like downstairs, the walls were covered in gashes and holes, and Chloe was becoming very surprised that they didn’t hear any of these gunshots.
CREAK! She looked down the hall where it had come from. For a brief second, she saw something at the end of the dark hall then it disappeared. It was only then that she noticed how dark it was up there, because of the houses set up there were no windows in the hall and the power had been out for days. She pulled out her flashlight Ca-Click! The narrow beam popped on and barely illuminated the end of the hall, but as she had thought whatever was there was gone now. She started to go about the search process methodically slowly going down the hall checking a room on the inside of the hall and then on the outside. The first room she poked her head into was a girl’s bedroom. It was decorated with a wallpaper of pink flowers and a small bed with pink covers. It was the stereotype of a little girl’s room. She noticed the covers were disheveled and a few things were knocked over. It looked like something had happened in the room but she wasn’t sure what.
She stepped out of the room and moved on to the next and the next. They were both similar with a similar disheveled nature. She started to realize whatever had happened it had woken them all up. She tried to push the last door in the hall open but it wouldn’t budge.
She continued up to the corner where she’d seen the thing. Multiple things then happened at once. She saw something massive lurking in the hall she began to turn down, she heard a creak behind her, Herman barked, and screeches began coming from downstairs sounding like the things had finally escaped the basement. Before she could stop Herman he started making a charge for the thing growling and barking. Chloe made a move after him but a gloved hand grabbed her and then covered her mouth. She watched Herman lung towards the thing then SLAM! It whacked Herman mid-air sending the dog flying back down the hall. He landed with a crash right next to her, a large bloody slash across his body. SCROAR! The sound came from the massive beast and nearly shattered her eardrums, and for one brief second, she raised the flashlight from Herman to the creature. She didn’t see much but that was enough.
She saw its face. It had four disturbing brown eyes, they were eyes she recognized. Those eyes… Those were the eyes of Mrs. Garrison. She gasped in horror through the gloved hand and she heard the person holding her let out a slight sob. The rest of its face wasn’t any better. Its top of head and forehead were all one bony plate. Its mouth was a black hole of teeth, and like the hounds, its lower jaw split into two mandibles. The back of its head had strange thin attachments that reminded her of the gills on an axolotl's head. Then in an instant, a few more things happened. The person holding her made a move for a door, the monster made a move for them, and the slamming footsteps of the hounds as they sprinted up the spiral staircase.
“Get in,” The person said, letting go of her and opening the door.
She turned around and saw the person who’d grabbed her and saw Fred Garrison standing next to the open door.
“NOW!” He yelled, grabbing her and pulling her into the room.
Fred hurried inside after her and quickly slid a fridge against the door. Seconds later angry screeches and slams rang out from the other side. They sounded like the hounds, not the big ones. Then she caught one other sound in the chaos, a wine. Oh gosh, Herman is still alive, She thought.
Fred stood by the door shotgun in hand while the slamming and screeching continued. She stood there and listened as they continuously tried to get in. Suddenly she heard Herman let out a growl, seconds later one of the hounds shrieked like they were in pain. CRUNCH! The sounds of Herman’s attack stopped and were replaced with sounds of meat ripping.
Chloe let out a small sob with her only comfort being that the crunch was likely Herman’s neck breaking.
Fred stepped away from the door and looked at her. He did not look like the man she remembered him as. His hair and beard looked like large rose bushes that were never cut. His blue eyes looked depressed like there was nothing there but sadness. Then she noticed a large bandage on his left arm. It looked like the whole arm had gotten cut open at some point.
Then her eyes wandered around the room. It was a small shop/man cave room. There were a few guns on the table, but more importantly, she noticed lit candles everywhere.
“I… I… I’m sorry,” He said with tears in his eyes.
She let down a quiet sob and Fred walked over helping her find a seat on the couch. After a minute of crying with Fred awkwardly trying to comfort her, she pulled herself together and looked up at the man.
“What happened?” She asked.
The man's face changed and she saw tears build up in his eyes; “A massacre,” He said grimly.
Then he followed with his story: “It happened around the fifth day I think. It was late and Jess and I were watching TV in the living room. Tim, Tom, Bart, and Gerry were chatting at the dinner table. Tom's wife and my four daughters were upstairs in bed. Everything was quiet and peaceful when suddenly my two dogs started barking outside. Now I know sometimes they’ll bark at dogs but this wasn’t that type of barking. This was get the heck away from me or I’ll kill you type barking. Then I started hearing weird screeching noises and at that point, I went over to the backdoor to check out the problem. I saw a bunch of massive spiders outside trying to attack my dogs, except they weren’t really spiders. Some of them had stingers and others kinda looked like slugs with spider legs. They’d stung one of my dogs a bunch and she was lying on the ground, the other was trying to stand her ground but it was a losing battle. I pulled at my revolver and started shooting at them. They were really fast. I think only one or two shots actually hit them. They started running over to me. One ran right in between my legs and a few of them tried to attack me. I shot those ones and turned around to try and stop the one that had gotten in, but it was already running havoc in the kitchen. My sons were chasing it, but they weren’t having the best of luck. Suddenly there was a crash, more spiders jumped through the now shattered windows, and something was banging on the front door. In an instant, the door was knocked off its hinges and one of those creeper things came through the door…”
Chloe interrupted him with: “I’m sorry but what are “those creeper things?””
“The… the big ones. The type that got your dog.” He explained.
“Anyways… it came running into the house, and before any of us could stop it. It threw Tom across the kitchen and into the wall. I came running to help him but that’s when it slashed my arm and threw me into the TV. The TV fell on top of me and then one of those spiders ran over and stung me in the thigh. I lay there with my eyes beginning to grow heavy. I saw Gerry, Tim, and Bart using the table as the shield. All three were hunched behind the table as the creeper began eating Tom. In a quick move, all three made a run for it. As they were running the creeper pounced and threw Tim into the table. Then it slashed Bart across the chest. Gerry managed to maneuver the creature and hurried over to help me. Bart ran down the hall to the basement and me and Gerry started hurrying upstairs. At some point, I blacked out and woke up here. Everyone was gone.” He finished with a somber look on his face.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” She said looking at him.
“And somehow they turned my beloved Jess into one of those.” He said motioning to outside where the Creeper had been.
She stopped to listen and realized that she couldn’t hear the hounds anymore.
“Are they gone?” She asked, looking over at Fred.
“Probably, they eat fast for their size,” Fred said grimly.
They sat there again awkwardly before Chloe asked, “What are all the candles for anyway?”
“Well I started lighting them for warmth, but I realized those things don’t seem to like them. Especially the scented ones.” He explained.
She took a whiff of the air and realized how strong the scents were in the room. It almost gave her a headache smelling them.
“So why were you here anyway?” He asked.
She got a little nervous. She felt like a little kid in trouble with her parents. She didn’t want to tell the truth because she worried it would anger him.
“We were running out of supplies.” She said simply.
Her thoughts turned back towards me as she sat there.
I sat on the couch still watching them work. They were about two-thirds done now, but they were starting to really tire and it was getting late. It had started to darken and I knew soon night would fall, and I just hoped she would make it home before nightfall. I’d tried to call her again, but this time it would ring but not go through. I started to wonder if hers had run out of battery. Bang! I immediately turned to the window in a panic. I saw Gretchen standing holding the rifle a few feet away straight down the barrel as a dead stinger. I let out a sigh of relief and turned back toward the phone in my lap. I hope you’re an ok babe.
“Fred, we have a plan. Come with me, don’t stay here, you'll die,” Chloe pleaded.
“Maybe I want to die.” He said, “Look I’m not stopping you from leaving but I’m not going.”
“Well if I go alone I’ll die, please my family needs me,” She said desperately.
Memories of his family flooded through Fred’s mind. He remembered how he felt when his first kids, Tom and Tim, were born. She hadn’t even had a kid, and suddenly he found himself doing something he didn’t think he’d be doing.
“Fine, let's go send those things back to hell!” He yelled pushing the fridge out of the way.
“Follow my lead,” He ordered turning around to her.
Then he cocked his shotgun and slammed the door open. As he had suspected the hounds and creeper were both gone, but lying on the floor next to the door were two bodies. One was the sprawled-out body of a now-deceased hound. Its neck was broken in multiple places and its yellow-greenish blood was everywhere around it. The other body was ripped off most of its flesh, but she knew who it had belonged to. Herman wasn’t going to sit there and bleed out so he must’ve lunged for one of the hounds nailing it in the perfect spot on the neck killing it. Then the other hound quickly retaliated by feasting on the dying Herman, or maybe it was the creeper she wasn’t sure which one actually ate him. But what she did know was that the skeletal remains of Herman on top of the hound had its teeth in the hound's neck.
Chloe let out a small sob and in barely a whisper said: “You were such a good boy, but you can rest now.”
She reached down and picked up a ripped piece of leather near the bodies. It was what remained of Herman’s collar. She stuff the piece into her pocket and looked over at Fred. Fred had tears in his eyes as he saw the corpse of Gerry just down the hall.
“H… He was only 15,” Fred cried as he got a better look at the scene.
Chloe stood there unsure of what to do or say because Fred looked like he was about to have a meltdown. Then his sad face turned to one of anger. She moved the flashlight past the body and down to the corner and the staircase. Lurking next to the staircase its brown eyes glowing in the light was the creeper. It was guarding the stairs and most likely wasn’t going to let them leave for as long as it lived. Her curiosity was getting the better of her so she turned a dial on the flashlight to make it brighter. She wished she could go back and stop herself. Stop herself so she didn’t have to see the horror that was the creeper. Her first interpretation of the face was fairly accurate except for one part. Inside its gaping maw behind the mandibles almost looked like a separate set of jaws. The second set was much more human-like and looked ready to shred any meat to bits, but its head was nothing compared to the body it sat upon. It appeared to have six limbs, two very long front arms with two large claws at the end, and two more arms that attached to roughly where pectoral muscles would normally be. These arms were much shorter than the previous set. It had two back legs that appeared to be quadruple-jointed. It had the normal heel and knee joints, but it had one additional joint in the foot. Despite this the legs looked vaguely dogfish, but not nearly as those of the hounds. Coming out where the tail should be was a large thorax with two nasty stingers on the end. The thorax was curved like that of a wasp ready to strike when necessary. It almost looked like it had a shell of exoskeleton on its back and thorax, and spouting out of the thicker plates were large needle-like spikes.
It let out a demonic shriek as soon as the light brightened. It ducked out of sight and started making a loud clicking noise. Chloe and Fred kept their guns trained on where it had disappeared ready for it to come out charging, but unfortunately, they underestimated it. It made a loud ticking sound followed by CREAK! Before Chloe could even turn the hound that had crept from behind had her pinned to the ground and was bitting and slashing at her back. BANG!!!! BANG!!!! Fred had lowered his shotgun to its head. The first blast blew out two of its eyes and shattered part of its exoskeleton, and the second blast dug through the broken exoskeleton into the brain. The hound collapsed dead and with his gun pointed at where the creeper had been Fred helped push the body off of her.
Chloe got up a little shaken but relatively ok. She started guarding back while he guarded the front as they slowly made their way towards the stairs. Any second they were expecting the creeper to appear from around the corner, but it didn’t. The creeper was planning something again but they didn’t know what. Just as they made it to the stairs they turned down the other hall, but saw nothing. The creeper had likely walked into one of the rooms and was waiting, but they weren’t there to explore. They hurried down the spiral staircase, but just as they got to the bottom they saw the place was still swarming with stingers, slugs, and 3 hounds. A loud ticking sound came from upstairs and the three hounds charged towards them. They started running back upstairs only to see the creeper now lurking at the top of them. Cornered in the middle of the stairs back to back with each other they began to accept their fate.
I started to really worry about where Chloe was I hadn’t heard from her in a while and it was getting late. I sat there trying to call her every few minutes but it would not pick up. BANG! I dropped the phone and turned to the window. Gretchen stood there with the rifle pointed at something off in the snow, but I couldn’t see what the thing was. BANG! I saw for a brief millisecond the bullet flying into the blizzard then nothing. BANG! I tried to pull myself up to see what it was, but searing pain went through my body when I tried. I looked out again and saw something massive emerge from the blizzard charging for Gretchen.
“I’m sorry we should’ve stayed up there,” Chloe cried as the hounds slowly stepped closer.
“Kid, I would rather die here than die in the room a coward, but you ain’t going to die here!” He said triumphantly.
Suddenly he pulled out a small can of spray deodorant and sprayed it in the hound's faces. All three toppled over making loud hacking coughing noises.
“GO!” He yelled and she quickly made her way past the hounds and downstairs.
There were still dozens of stingers down there and she still wasn’t sure what to do. Before she could do anything. RAT-A-TATATATA! All around her, the stingers began exploding as Fred landed shot after shot.
“A little help would be nice!” He yelled.
She quickly pulled out her semi-automatic and started firing as well. RAT-A-TATATATA! The hall began to fill with the exploded bodies of stingers and slugs. Suddenly she heard shuffling behind her and saw the hounds getting up. Without a second thought, she sprinted down the hall and into the kitchen. Standing in the living room was another group of stingers and a hound. How many hounds are there? She thought, then she remembered how many people in their town had two or three hunting dogs. If all of them were changed they’d be a small army.
She ducked behind the island sitting uncomfortably close to Tom’s body. Fred sprinted in a second later and saw what she did. He jumped to the ground and shimmied over to her.
“Crap kid we really are screwed,” Fred said his momentary confidence completely diminished.
Before anyone could do anything the monster that had emerged from the blizzard was attacking Gretchen. In one quick motion, it slashed open her gut and she dropped the gun. I stared outside as my mom tried desperately to fire, but even from this distance, I could see she’d loaded the gun wrong. In an instant, she was on the ground bleeding. I looked over at the shotgun sitting next to me and fired a round through the window at the beast. The window shattered and I saw the creature get hit right solid in the chest, but it didn’t matter much. Like the dog beasts, this one had a thick darkly colored exoskeleton that the round didn’t pierce. The beast looked up from what it was doing and started charging for the house. I fired again but it didn’t even slow the creature it just kept on charging straight towards the house. The boys at some point had caught onto what was going on and started crying and screaming. I tried to get them to quiet down, but they were too distraught. I grabbed the box and loaded two more rounds just as the door was thrown out of its hinges. SCROAR! It charged into the house. BANG! I shot it directly in that face and saw one of its eyes explode. SCROAR!!!! It swung a large two-clawed hand straight across my face throwing me across the room. I landed against a wall and in my weak state I leaned over and felt myself begin to fall. Unfortunately, it had thrown me right next to the basement stairs. Every time I hit a stair only hurt more than the last. At some point, my bandaged left hand slammed into a wooden stair. The pain was so bad I almost passed out. Finally, with one lass unceremonious thud, I landed on the basement floor.
Chloe looked around her hope beginning to fade then her eyes locked with the pantry. The large pantry with a window.
“Follow me,” She whispered as she started crawling for the pantry.
Fred followed close behind. Chloe crawled into the pantry and ducked into it. She peeked out of the doorway and saw that Fred had froze. The four hounds had gathered right behind him. He looked horrified and clearly unsure of what to do. Suddenly with a loud creak, the creeper's head poked into the kitchen and it let out a loud ticking sound. The hounds started screeching and one began to slowly walk towards Fred. RAT-A-TATATATA! She struck the approaching one 9 times in the face and the sudden burst seemed to wake Fred from his fear. RAT-A-TATATATA! Yellow-greenish blood exploded from the approaching hound's mouth and it slammed its head into the wall in pain. Fred turned around and sprinted into the pantry with Chloe closing the door as soon as he was inside.
Instantly sounds of slamming and scratching erupted from the door. Chloe turned to the window in the pantry and slid it open diving out into the snow. Fred quickly followed slamming the window behind him to give them more time.
Chloe sprinted through the snowy evening as quickly as she could Fred trying his best to keep up with her. The man wasn’t exactly in his prime and combine that with him not having snow shoes to be frank Chloe was surprised he was able to stay caught up at all.
As she sprinted down the darkening street getting closer and closer to home she thought she heard a faint Bang! Followed quickly by SCROAR!!!! Her worries suddenly switched from her and Fred to her family. She hadn’t called them in hours and now there was clearly something going on. She sprinted ever faster looking up and realizing she’d already made it onto their street.
As soon as their house was in view she saw the shoveled driveway, but she also saw my mom laying in a pool of her own blood. Along with that, she saw Gretchen weakly trying to get up also bloody. Chloe ran over to Gretchen.
“Gretchen, what happened?” Chloe asked as she helped Gretchen stand.
“Something… something big.” Gretchen sputtered out.
Gretchen had a lost far away look on her face. She almost seemed drunk but Chloe knew that wasn’t the case. Gretchen was likely in shock. SCREAM! Chloe immediately recognized it as one of the boys. She gently sat Gretchen down and then pulled out the rifle. Fred had finally caught up and quickly but carefully Fred and Chloe made their way into the house guns drawn.
They hurried inside and saw the creeper looming over a now-still Alby. Without a second thought, Chloe raised her rifle RAT-A-TATATA! She shot the thing a few times in the back knowing that it probably wouldn’t do any real damage. It turned around and looked at the two of them standing there. The scene was eerie as the still-burning fireplace cast a strange glow on the creeper. Everything seemed to go still for a second the two of them staring at the creeper and the creeper staring right back at them. All three of them trying to make a decision but are not sure what to do. SCROAR! It dives forward slicing at the welding helmet Chloe was wearing and then pinning her to the ground with its four legs. BANG!! His shotgun blast hardly seemed to phase the thing as started digging its claws into Chloe. She let out a scream that I heard loud and clear from the basement.
I’d managed to pull myself halfway up the stairs with my good arm and leg but my energy was running out and I was feeling lightheaded. I had to save her I had to protect her. BANG! I heard another gunshot followed by an unfamiliar scream. I didn’t know at the time that Fred was putting everything he had into trying to protect my wife.
Chloe gunless and pinned down was beginning to accept her fate when she remembered what she’d done last time. She reached for her knife and stabbed one of its feet. SCROAR!! It backed up off of her clearly in pain. Quickly she pulled the sniper rifle off her back and Bang! The bullet went clean through one of the thing's legs. She’d quite literally found the creeper's Achilles heel. It half fell to the ground letting out another roar of pain and agony. Both its front legs were crippled and it lay there defeated. Fred stepped forward ready to put a shotgun blast to the temple when suddenly. The thing reared up onto its two back legs throwing Fred into the wall. It had to hunch a little as the ceiling wasn’t very high but it still was tall. Chloe figured that on two legs without a hunch it was probably 10 feet tall. SCROAR!! Bang! It lunged towards her and she used her first shot to shoot its arm. The bullet embedded into the exoskeleton but didn’t seem to hurt it. The creature stopped for a moment as if to think. Bang! She shot the creature in the belly. The exoskeleton cracked. Bang! The second shot sunk into its stomach and the creature's blood began to leak out. SCROAR! It bashed one of its arms into her. She felt her left shoulder get cut open and the helmet went flying off.
BANG!! BANG! Two shotgun blasts rang out at the exact same time. The first blast was Fred's. It hit the creeper directly in the back of the head causing it to stumble forward. The second was my blast hitting it directly in the face. The two shots managed to hit at the exact perfect times. The creeper collapsed to the ground critically wounded.
Fred ran over to Chloe who was in a daze on the ground.
“Are you alright kid?” He asked helping her up.
“I’ll live,” She said weakly.
The creeper let out a growl from where it lay on the floor. I pointed the shotgun from where I was on the stairs and fired one final blast into its head.
“Chloe who is that?” I asked cautiously.
“Fred,” She said sounding weak.
I crawled the rest of the way up and saw Alby laying near the fireplace motionless. I froze as I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. Then I looked closer and saw besides a cut on his arm he wasn’t hurt, and better yet it looked like he was breathing.
“Alby!” I yelled trying my best to over to him with my broken body.
He lifted his head and turned it to look at me.
“Is the monster gone?” He asked.
“Yes it’s gone,” I said trying to sound comforting.
“Ba… Babe,” Chloe stammered, now leaning down over me.
Her eyes were locked with mine but she had a horrified expression on her face. I didn’t care and gave her a long tight hug.
“You’re not leaving me again,” I told her.
Finally, I pulled away and looked at her and for a second it was just the two of us and nothing else mattered.
Fred hurried into the house helping Gretchen walk.
“Everyone downstairs now!” He ordered and we all hurried down.
“Alby where’s your brothers?” I asked him as he followed us downstairs.
“They're down here.” He said pointing down the staircase.
“Fred, what’s happening?” Chloe asked the panic-stricken man as we all stepped into the basement.
“More, more of them are coming.” He said a look of fear on his face.
“Well then let's get ready for a fight!” Chloe said, cocking the shotgun she’d taken from me.

Part 3
Day 14

Chloe walked into what had once been the beautiful home of the Garrisons. The room she walked into was the main hall. It was large and square-shaped with a room on both sides and a hall on the other side of the door. In the middle of the room, a large antler chandelier lay in a destroyed twisted mess on the hardwood floor. She looked over at the walls and saw a few small circular holes. Bullet holes. She thought, taking a step closer to get a better look. Herman followed her wagging his tail like nothing was wrong with this situation. She looked down toward the floor and spotted large claw marks on the hardwood floor. Some looked like hound claw marks (she became acquainted enough with the marks to recognize them) but others were much larger. Far too large to be from one of the hounds. After scanning the room for another minute she decided she’d go into the left room first. The left room was a small lounge that seemed unassuming at first glance until she noticed the couch that had been thrown against the wall and the dried blood stains on the walls and carpet. It was human blood and was mostly frozen. She walked across the main hall and into the room on the right. This room was unassuming with very little apart from bookshelves and a small desk. It also seemed relatively undisturbed with little to no damage. She walked down the hall into the main part of the house. This main section had an open-air kitchen/dining room and a large living room. It looked horrible, it was clear a massacre had happened here. Blood was everywhere on the floors, the walls, and even the ceiling in certain spots. Most of the blood was a dark red with occasional splatters of yellow-greenish blood. She saw bits of muscle and tissue in the blood, and all around that was wreckage. Their large 100-inch flat-screen TV lay crushed on the floor. The leather couch was flipped over and ripped in countless places. The fan lay on the floor looking like it had a sledgehammer taken to it. The kitchen was worse though… slumped against the wall was a mostly eaten body. It was essentially just a skeleton with small bits of meat and tendon still clinging on. Despite being absolutely terrified something made her want to get a closer look. She noticed most of the bones were broken if not shattered, and it wasn’t until that point she realized everything below the rib cage was missing. She yelped and looked away. The rest of the kitchen was destroyed with the drawers and cupboards broken, and one section of cupboards laying on the ground with shattered glass all around it. Lastly, the dining room. Another antler chandelier lay destroyed on the ground and the table was leaned over like it had been used as firing cover. She walked over to the dining table only to realize another destroyed body lay behind it. This one looked like it had been thrown around by the look of its breaks. This one only had half a skull with the frontal and parietal bones absent. She looked and saw this was wearing dog tags. She let out a small sob when she saw that. She knew who it had to be. It had to be Timothy Garrison. She and Timothy were the same age and had dated through most of high school. After they graduated they had a mutual break up and she met Joey in college, but she and Timothy remained good friends. He had come to their wedding and he was the one who taught her how to shoot a rifle, and he had been the only person in his family to serve in the military. Herman slowly walked up to the body and started sniffing it. “Get away from him!” She screamed at the dog. She started to sob when her brain seemed to kick back into gear. Pull yourself together and cry later, She told herself. She stood up, wiped the tears off her face, and kept going. She went back over to the kitchen and yanked their fridge open. It was stocked to the brim with meats, fruits, vegetables, and bottles. She restrained her excitement at the sight but still grabbed as much as she could. She filled a duffel bag full of only a portion of the goodies in their fridge then moved on. CREAK! The loud sound interrupted her walk over to the pantry. It came from the wooden ceiling just above her, and whatever it was that caused it sounded large. She froze and listened for more sounds, but after a while of nothing she moved on hoping beyond all hope that it was just a house noise. She and Herman crept over to the pantry and with a quick pull she opened it. The pantry was large and also stocked with food. Most of it was crap that would expire or had already expired, but what excited her was the large sack of potatoes sitting by the door. She grabbed the sack and set it on top of the duffle bag by the fridge. CREAK! This one was louder than the last and sent a chill down her spine. She wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to run out of the house or go upstairs and investigate. Her head was telling her she should leave but the other part of her so wanted to know what was making that sound. Finally, she made a decision. She’d search the bottom floor then she would go upstairs to check out the noise. CREAK! This one was the quietest so far, coming from below her. The basement, she thought, looking down at the floor. She crept down a hall on the first floor with Herman right behind her. She was following a trail of blood like it was a trail of breadcrumbs. It was a deep crimson red and there was a lot of it. Whoever was bleeding definitely wasn’t alive anymore, she thought. She slowly followed the trail up to a white door which was now half covered in blood. Shakily she reached for the blood-covered knob and pulled the door open. It was the basement staircase but she looked at the way the blood had puddled and it told a story. They had hurried halfway down the stairs before something knocked them down to the bottom. There they are killed and then dragged into another section of the basement. She slowly walked down the stairs watching each step carefully until finally, her boot made contact with the linoleum floor. Meanwhile… I sat messing with and poking at the satellite phone trying to see why it wouldn’t send a call through. I’d looked through the manual and popped it open to see if anything had broken, but it was perfectly fine. I angrily smacked the phone against the coach, but still, nothing happened. At last, I set the phone down in defeat hoping Chloe was ok. I turned from the couch to the window and saw Gretchen and Mom still busy with the shoveling. For the amount of snow on the driveway they’d made good work. Almost half of the driveway was clear of snow and covered in salt. I watched on for a while before I heard a little beep. I looked over and saw the little screen of the satellite phone was showing an empty battery. I smacked my palm into my forehead annoyed by my stupidity. “Hey Alby, can you get me some batteries?” I asked, looking over at him. He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen a minute or two later he came back out holding the box of batteries. “Thank you!” I said taking the box and quickly popping two new batteries in. The basement was dark, very dark. Chloe could hardly see a thing, but she had thought of this scenario and pulled a flashlight from one of her pockets. Ca-Click! The thin beam of the flashlight kicked on. She was expecting to see the light illuminate the wall on the other side of the room or maybe a piece of furniture. But it illuminated a wall of webs. She saw through the webs at least a dozen cocoons far more than just the Garrison family. But even worse she saw dozens and dozens of stingers. They’d made the basement into a nest. Bzzz… The satellite phone continued to buzz and an uproar began to grow around her. Herman let out a growl and looked ready to pounce. Chloe in a hurry grabbed Herman’s collar and started running upstairs with him. The basement became full of the sound of screeches and she heard something big started moving down there. She sprinted as quickly as she could, making it to the top of the stairs and turning around to see at least a dozen stingers following her. Rat-a-tatatatatat!! She shot a barrage of bullets down at the stingers hitting most of them. Then something big appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Two things actually. Two hounds. She yelped and then slammed the door shut. She looked around quickly for something to barricade the door. Her eyes met a small dresser in a bedroom near the door. She pulled it out and shoved it against the door. CRACK! It came from the other side of the door and was quickly followed by a loud slam. She grabbed the still-growling Herman and started pulling him along with her. After a minute he started walking by her side and she let him go. Suddenly she remembered the walkie and pressed the button. “Joey… Joey, I'm here!” She yelled half excited and half still terrified. I let out a sigh of relief; “Did you check out the Garrisons already?” He asked. “Sort of… I’m still over there,” She explained. She thought about telling me what she’d encountered but didn’t want to overly worry me. Plus recounting that day's events would just make things worse for her, not better. “Ok, just be safe. I love you,” I told her. “Love you too,” She said. Bzzz… She sat in the kitchen near her bags thinking for a minute. Since the crash, she hadn’t heard a thing from the basement door which made her start to suspect that the stairs had collapsed. Her curiosity had gotten desperate and she now felt like she had to check what was upstairs. She would never forgive herself if someone was still alive up there and died because she didn’t go and help them. She slowly crept upstairs, her rifle trained and Herman at her side. The Garrison's house was set on a hill in such a way that the second floor was larger than the first. The second floor was made up of four halls that made a square with rooms within and outside of that square. The spiral stairs entered a corner of the square. Chloe reached the top stair and looked down the halls. Both were wrecked like upstairs but down one of the adjoining halls a body lay on the floor, or what was left of a body. She slowly walked over and saw this was by far the worst body she’d seen so far. This one looked like it had been eaten similarly to Carl. The sternum and ribs were shattered and the spine was broken, but this one was worse. The bones were covered in bites and scratches, but worst of all the splatters around the body were immense; the person had likely struggled while they were being eaten alive. Chloe shivered at the thought and could only hope that they didn’t suffer long. She stepped away from the body and got a better look around her. Apart from the body and the blood around it, there wasn’t much sign of death up there, but it still looked awful. Just like downstairs, the walls were covered in gashes and holes, and Chloe was becoming very surprised that they didn’t hear any of these gunshots. CREAK! She looked down the hall where it had come from. For a brief second, she saw something at the end of the dark hall then it disappeared. It was only then that she noticed how dark it was up there, because of the houses set up there were no windows in the hall and the power had been out for days. She pulled out her flashlight Ca-Click! The narrow beam popped on and barely illuminated the end of the hall, but as she had thought whatever was there was gone now. She started to go about the search process methodically slowly going down the hall checking a room on the inside of the hall and then on the outside. The first room she poked her head into was a girl’s bedroom. It was decorated with a wallpaper of pink flowers and a small bed with pink covers. It was the stereotype of a little girl’s room. She noticed the covers were disheveled and a few things were knocked over. It looked like something had happened in the room but she wasn’t sure what. She stepped out of the room and moved on to the next and the next. They were both similar with a similar disheveled nature. She started to realize whatever had happened it had woken them all up. She tried to push the last door in the hall open but it wouldn’t budge. She continued up to the corner where she’d seen the thing. Multiple things then happened at once. She saw something massive lurking in the hall she began to turn down, she heard a creak behind her, Herman barked, and screeches began coming from downstairs sounding like the things had finally escaped the basement. Before she could stop Herman he started making a charge for the thing growling and barking. Chloe made a move after him but a gloved hand grabbed her and then covered her mouth. She watched Herman lung towards the thing then SLAM! It whacked Herman mid-air sending the dog flying back down the hall. He landed with a crash right next to her, a large bloody slash across his body. SCROAR! The sound came from the massive beast and nearly shattered her eardrums, and for one brief second, she raised the flashlight from Herman to the creature. She didn’t see much but that was enough. She saw its face. It had four disturbing brown eyes, they were eyes she recognized. Those eyes… Those were the eyes of Mrs. Garrison. She gasped in horror through the gloved hand and she heard the person holding her let out a slight sob. The rest of its face wasn’t any better. Its top of head and forehead were all one bony plate. Its mouth was a black hole of teeth, and like the hounds, its lower jaw split into two mandibles. The back of its head had strange thin attachments that reminded her of the gills on an axolotl's head. Then in an instant, a few more things happened. The person holding her made a move for a door, the monster made a move for them, and the slamming footsteps of the hounds as they sprinted up the spiral staircase. “Get in,” The person said, letting go of her and opening the door. She turned around and saw the person who’d grabbed her and saw Fred Garrison standing next to the open door. “NOW!” He yelled, grabbing her and pulling her into the room. Fred hurried inside after her and quickly slid a fridge against the door. Seconds later angry screeches and slams rang out from the other side. They sounded like the hounds, not the big ones. Then she caught one other sound in the chaos, a wine. Oh gosh, Herman is still alive, She thought. Fred stood by the door shotgun in hand while the slamming and screeching continued. She stood there and listened as they continuously tried to get in. Suddenly she heard Herman let out a growl, seconds later one of the hounds shrieked like they were in pain. CRUNCH! The sounds of Herman’s attack stopped and were replaced with sounds of meat ripping. Chloe let out a small sob with her only comfort being that the crunch was likely Herman’s neck breaking. Fred stepped away from the door and looked at her. He did not look like the man she remembered him as. His hair and beard looked like large rose bushes that were never cut. His blue eyes looked depressed like there was nothing there but sadness. Then she noticed a large bandage on his left arm. It looked like the whole arm had gotten cut open at some point. Then her eyes wandered around the room. It was a small shop/man cave room. There were a few guns on the table, but more importantly, she noticed lit candles everywhere. “I… I… I’m sorry,” He said with tears in his eyes. She let down a quiet sob and Fred walked over helping her find a seat on the couch. After a minute of crying with Fred awkwardly trying to comfort her, she pulled herself together and looked up at the man. “What happened?” She asked. The man's face changed and she saw tears build up in his eyes; “A massacre,” He said grimly. Then he followed with his story: “It happened around the fifth day I think. It was late and Jess and I were watching TV in the living room. Tim, Tom, Bart, and Gerry were chatting at the dinner table. Tom's wife and my four daughters were upstairs in bed. Everything was quiet and peaceful when suddenly my two dogs started barking outside. Now I know sometimes they’ll bark at dogs but this wasn’t that type of barking. This was get the heck away from me or I’ll kill you type barking. Then I started hearing weird screeching noises and at that point, I went over to the backdoor to check out the problem. I saw a bunch of massive spiders outside trying to attack my dogs, except they weren’t really spiders. Some of them had stingers and others kinda looked like slugs with spider legs. They’d stung one of my dogs a bunch and she was lying on the ground, the other was trying to stand her ground but it was a losing battle. I pulled at my revolver and started shooting at them. They were really fast. I think only one or two shots actually hit them. They started running over to me. One ran right in between my legs and a few of them tried to attack me. I shot those ones and turned around to try and stop the one that had gotten in, but it was already running havoc in the kitchen. My sons were chasing it, but they weren’t having the best of luck. Suddenly there was a crash, more spiders jumped through the now shattered windows, and something was banging on the front door. In an instant, the door was knocked off its hinges and one of those creeper things came through the door…” Chloe interrupted him with: “I’m sorry but what are “those creeper things?”” “The… the big ones. The type that got your dog.” He explained. “Anyways… it came running into the house, and before any of us could stop it. It threw Tom across the kitchen and into the wall. I came running to help him but that’s when it slashed my arm and threw me into the TV. The TV fell on top of me and then one of those spiders ran over and stung me in the thigh. I lay there with my eyes beginning to grow heavy. I saw Gerry, Tim, and Bart using the table as the shield. All three were hunched behind the table as the creeper began eating Tom. In a quick move, all three made a run for it. As they were running the creeper pounced and threw Tim into the table. Then it slashed Bart across the chest. Gerry managed to maneuver the creature and hurried over to help me. Bart ran down the hall to the basement and me and Gerry started hurrying upstairs. At some point, I blacked out and woke up here. Everyone was gone.” He finished with a somber look on his face. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” She said looking at him. “And somehow they turned my beloved Jess into one of those.” He said motioning to outside where the Creeper had been. 

She stopped to listen and realized that she couldn’t hear the hounds anymore.
“Are they gone?” She asked, looking over at Fred.
“Probably, they eat fast for their size,” Fred said grimly.
They sat there again awkwardly before Chloe asked, “What are all the candles for anyway?”
“Well I started lighting them for warmth, but I realized those things don’t seem to like them. Especially the scented ones.” He explained.
She took a whiff of the air and realized how strong the scents were in the room. It almost gave her a headache smelling them.
“So why were you here anyway?” He asked.
She got a little nervous. She felt like a little kid in trouble with her parents. She didn’t want to tell the truth because she worried it would anger him.
“We were running out of supplies.” She said simply.
Her thoughts turned back towards me as she sat there.
I sat on the couch still watching them work. They were about two-thirds done now, but they were starting to really tire and it was getting late. It had started to darken and I knew soon night would fall, and I just hoped she would make it home before nightfall. I’d tried to call her again, but this time it would ring but not go through. I started to wonder if hers had run out of battery. Bang! I immediately turned to the window in a panic. I saw Gretchen standing holding the rifle a few feet away straight down the barrel as a dead stinger. I let out a sigh of relief and turned back toward the phone in my lap. I hope you’re an ok babe.
“Fred, we have a plan. Come with me, don’t stay here, you'll die,” Chloe pleaded.
“Maybe I want to die.” He said, “Look I’m not stopping you from leaving but I’m not going.”
“Well if I go alone I’ll die, please my family needs me,” She said desperately.
Memories of his family flooded through Fred’s mind. He remembered how he felt when his first kids, Tom and Tim, were born. She hadn’t even had a kid, and suddenly he found himself doing something he didn’t think he’d be doing.
“Fine, let's go send those things back to hell!” He yelled pushing the fridge out of the way.
“Follow my lead,” He ordered turning around to her.
Then he cocked his shotgun and slammed the door open. As he had suspected the hounds and creeper were both gone, but lying on the floor next to the door were two bodies. One was the sprawled-out body of a now-deceased hound. Its neck was broken in multiple places and its yellow-greenish blood was everywhere around it. The other body was ripped off most of its flesh, but she knew who it had belonged to. Herman wasn’t going to sit there and bleed out so he must’ve lunged for one of the hounds nailing it in the perfect spot on the neck killing it. Then the other hound quickly retaliated by feasting on the dying Herman, or maybe it was the creeper she wasn’t sure which one actually ate him. But what she did know was that the skeletal remains of Herman on top of the hound had its teeth in the hound's neck.
Chloe let out a small sob and in barely a whisper said: “You were such a good boy, but you can rest now.”
She reached down and picked up a ripped piece of leather near the bodies. It was what remained of Herman’s collar. She stuff the piece into her pocket and looked over at Fred. Fred had tears in his eyes as he saw the corpse of Gerry just down the hall.
“H… He was only 15,” Fred cried as he got a better look at the scene.
Chloe stood there unsure of what to do or say because Fred looked like he was about to have a meltdown. Then his sad face turned to one of anger. She moved the flashlight past the body and down to the corner and the staircase. Lurking next to the staircase its brown eyes glowing in the light was the creeper. It was guarding the stairs and most likely wasn’t going to let them leave for as long as it lived. Her curiosity was getting the better of her so she turned a dial on the flashlight to make it brighter. She wished she could go back and stop herself. Stop herself so she didn’t have to see the horror that was the creeper. Her first interpretation of the face was fairly accurate except for one part. Inside its gaping maw behind the mandibles almost looked like a separate set of jaws. The second set was much more human-like and looked ready to shred any meat to bits, but its head was nothing compared to the body it sat upon. It appeared to have six limbs, two very long front arms with two large claws at the end, and two more arms that attached to roughly where pectoral muscles would normally be. These arms were much shorter than the previous set. It had two back legs that appeared to be quadruple-jointed. It had the normal heel and knee joints, but it had one additional joint in the foot. Despite this the legs looked vaguely dogfish, but not nearly as those of the hounds. Coming out where the tail should be was a large thorax with two nasty stingers on the end. The thorax was curved like that of a wasp ready to strike when necessary. It almost looked like it had a shell of exoskeleton on its back and thorax, and spouting out of the thicker plates were large needle-like spikes.
It let out a demonic shriek as soon as the light brightened. It ducked out of sight and started making a loud clicking noise. Chloe and Fred kept their guns trained on where it had disappeared ready for it to come out charging, but unfortunately, they underestimated it. It made a loud ticking sound followed by CREAK! Before Chloe could even turn the hound that had crept from behind had her pinned to the ground and was bitting and slashing at her back. BANG!!!! BANG!!!! Fred had lowered his shotgun to its head. The first blast blew out two of its eyes and shattered part of its exoskeleton, and the second blast dug through the broken exoskeleton into the brain. The hound collapsed dead and with his gun pointed at where the creeper had been Fred helped push the body off of her.
Chloe got up a little shaken but relatively ok. She started guarding back while he guarded the front as they slowly made their way towards the stairs. Any second they were expecting the creeper to appear from around the corner, but it didn’t. The creeper was planning something again but they didn’t know what. Just as they made it to the stairs they turned down the other hall, but saw nothing. The creeper had likely walked into one of the rooms and was waiting, but they weren’t there to explore. They hurried down the spiral staircase, but just as they got to the bottom they saw the place was still swarming with stingers, slugs, and 3 hounds. A loud ticking sound came from upstairs and the three hounds charged towards them. They started running back upstairs only to see the creeper now lurking at the top of them. Cornered in the middle of the stairs back to back with each other they began to accept their fate.
I started to really worry about where Chloe was I hadn’t heard from her in a while and it was getting late. I sat there trying to call her every few minutes but it would not pick up. BANG! I dropped the phone and turned to the window. Gretchen stood there with the rifle pointed at something off in the snow, but I couldn’t see what the thing was. BANG! I saw for a brief millisecond the bullet flying into the blizzard then nothing. BANG! I tried to pull myself up to see what it was, but searing pain went through my body when I tried. I looked out again and saw something massive emerge from the blizzard charging for Gretchen.
“I’m sorry we should’ve stayed up there,” Chloe cried as the hounds slowly stepped closer.
“Kid, I would rather die here than die in the room a coward, but you ain’t going to die here!” He said triumphantly.

Suddenly he pulled out a small can of spray deodorant and sprayed it in the hound's faces. All three toppled over making loud hacking coughing noises. “GO!” He yelled and she quickly made her way past the hounds and downstairs. There were still dozens of stingers down there and she still wasn’t sure what to do. Before she could do anything. RAT-A-TATATATA! All around her, the stingers began exploding as Fred landed shot after shot. “A little help would be nice!” He yelled. She quickly pulled out her semi-automatic and started firing as well. RAT-A-TATATATA! The hall began to fill with the exploded bodies of stingers and slugs. Suddenly she heard shuffling behind her and saw the hounds getting up. Without a second thought, she sprinted down the hall and into the kitchen. Standing in the living room was another group of stingers and a hound. How many hounds are there? She thought, then she remembered how many people in their town had two or three hunting dogs. If all of them were changed they’d be a small army. She ducked behind the island sitting uncomfortably close to Tom’s body. Fred sprinted in a second later and saw what she did. He jumped to the ground and shimmied over to her. “Crap kid we really are screwed,” Fred said his momentary confidence completely diminished. Before anyone could do anything the monster that had emerged from the blizzard was attacking Gretchen. In one quick motion, it slashed open her gut and she dropped the gun. I stared outside as my mom tried desperately to fire, but even from this distance, I could see she’d loaded the gun wrong. In an instant, she was on the ground bleeding. I looked over at the shotgun sitting next to me and fired a round through the window at the beast. The window shattered and I saw the creature get hit right solid in the chest, but it didn’t matter much. Like the dog beasts, this one had a thick darkly colored exoskeleton that the round didn’t pierce. The beast looked up from what it was doing and started charging for the house. I fired again but it didn’t even slow the creature it just kept on charging straight towards the house. The boys at some point had caught onto what was going on and started crying and screaming. I tried to get them to quiet down, but they were too distraught. I grabbed the box and loaded two more rounds just as the door was thrown out of its hinges. SCROAR! It charged into the house. BANG! I shot it directly in that face and saw one of its eyes explode. SCROAR!!!! It swung a large two-clawed hand straight across my face throwing me across the room. I landed against a wall and in my weak state I leaned over and felt myself begin to fall. Unfortunately, it had thrown me right next to the basement stairs. Every time I hit a stair only hurt more than the last. At some point, my bandaged left hand slammed into a wooden stair. The pain was so bad I almost passed out. Finally, with one lass unceremonious thud, I landed on the basement floor. 

Chloe looked around her hope beginning to fade then her eyes locked with the pantry. The large pantry with a window.

“Follow me,” She whispered as she started crawling for the pantry. Fred followed close behind. Chloe crawled into the pantry and ducked into it. She peeked out of the doorway and saw that Fred had froze. The four hounds had gathered right behind him. He looked horrified and clearly unsure of what to do. Suddenly with a loud creak, the creeper's head poked into the kitchen and it let out a loud ticking sound. The hounds started screeching and one began to slowly walk towards Fred. RAT-A-TATATATA! She struck the approaching one 9 times in the face and the sudden burst seemed to wake Fred from his fear. RAT-A-TATATATA! Yellow-greenish blood exploded from the approaching hound's mouth and it slammed its head into the wall in pain. Fred turned around and sprinted into the pantry with Chloe closing the door as soon as he was inside. Instantly sounds of slamming and scratching erupted from the door. Chloe turned to the window in the pantry and slid it open diving out into the snow. Fred quickly followed slamming the window behind him to give them more time. Chloe sprinted through the snowy evening as quickly as she could Fred trying his best to keep up with her. The man wasn’t exactly in his prime and combine that with him not having snow shoes to be frank Chloe was surprised he was able to stay caught up at all. As she sprinted down the darkening street getting closer and closer to home she thought she heard a faint Bang! Followed quickly by SCROAR!!!! Her worries suddenly switched from her and Fred to her family. She hadn’t called them in hours and now there was clearly something going on. She sprinted ever faster looking up and realizing she’d already made it onto their street. As soon as their house was in view she saw the shoveled driveway, but she also saw my mom laying in a pool of her own blood. Along with that, she saw Gretchen weakly trying to get up also bloody. Chloe ran over to Gretchen. “Gretchen, what happened?” Chloe asked as she helped Gretchen stand. “Something… something big.” Gretchen sputtered out. Gretchen had a lost far away look on her face. She almost seemed drunk but Chloe knew that wasn’t the case. Gretchen was likely in shock. SCREAM! Chloe immediately recognized it as one of the boys. She gently sat Gretchen down and then pulled out the rifle. Fred had finally caught up and quickly but carefully Fred and Chloe made their way into the house guns drawn. They hurried inside and saw the creeper looming over a now-still Alby. Without a second thought, Chloe raised her rifle RAT-A-TATATA! She shot the thing a few times in the back knowing that it probably wouldn’t do any real damage. It turned around and looked at the two of them standing there. The scene was eerie as the still-burning fireplace cast a strange glow on the creeper. Everything seemed to go still for a second the two of them staring at the creeper and the creeper staring right back at them. All three of them trying to make a decision but are not sure what to do. SCROAR! It dives forward slicing at the welding helmet Chloe was wearing and then pinning her to the ground with its four legs. BANG!! His shotgun blast hardly seemed to phase the thing as started digging its claws into Chloe. She let out a scream that I heard loud and clear from the basement. 

I’d managed to pull myself halfway up the stairs with my good arm and leg but my energy was running out and I was feeling lightheaded. I had to save her I had to protect her. BANG! I heard another gunshot followed by an unfamiliar scream. I didn’t know at the time that Fred was putting everything he had into trying to protect my wife.
Chloe gunless and pinned down was beginning to accept her fate when she remembered what she’d done last time. She reached for her knife and stabbed one of its feet. SCROAR!! It backed up off of her clearly in pain. Quickly she pulled the sniper rifle off her back and Bang! The bullet went clean through one of the thing's legs. She’d quite literally found the creeper's Achilles heel. It half fell to the ground letting out another roar of pain and agony. Both its front legs were crippled and it lay there defeated. Fred stepped forward ready to put a shotgun blast to the temple when suddenly. The thing reared up onto its two back legs throwing Fred into the wall. It had to hunch a little as the ceiling wasn’t very high but it still was tall. Chloe figured that on two legs without a hunch it was probably 10 feet tall. SCROAR!! Bang! It lunged towards her and she used her first shot to shoot its arm. The bullet embedded into the exoskeleton but didn’t seem to hurt it. The creature stopped for a moment as if to think. Bang! She shot the creature in the belly. The exoskeleton cracked. Bang! The second shot sunk into its stomach and the creature's blood began to leak out. SCROAR! It bashed one of its arms into her. She felt her left shoulder get cut open and the helmet went flying off.
BANG!! BANG! Two shotgun blasts rang out at the exact same time. The first blast was Fred's. It hit the creeper directly in the back of the head causing it to stumble forward. The second was my blast hitting it directly in the face. The two shots managed to hit at the exact perfect times. The creeper collapsed to the ground critically wounded.

Fred ran over to Chloe who was in a daze on the ground. “Are you alright kid?” He asked helping her up. “I’ll live,” She said weakly. The creeper let out a growl from where it lay on the floor. I pointed the shotgun from where I was on the stairs and fired one final blast into its head. “Chloe who is that?” I asked cautiously. “Fred,” She said sounding weak. I crawled the rest of the way up and saw Alby laying near the fireplace motionless. I froze as I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. Then I looked closer and saw besides a cut on his arm he wasn’t hurt, and better yet it looked like he was breathing. “Alby!” I yelled trying my best to over to him with my broken body. He lifted his head and turned it to look at me. “Is the monster gone?” He asked. “Yes it’s gone,” I said trying to sound comforting. “Ba… Babe,” Chloe stammered, now leaning down over me. Her eyes were locked with mine but she had a horrified expression on her face. I didn’t care and gave her a long tight hug. “You’re not leaving me again,” I told her. Finally, I pulled away and looked at her and for a second it was just the two of us and nothing else mattered. Fred hurried into the house helping Gretchen walk. “Everyone downstairs now!” He ordered and we all hurried down. “Alby where’s your brothers?” I asked him as he followed us downstairs. “They're down here.” He said pointing down the staircase. “Fred, what’s happening?” Chloe asked the panic-stricken man as we all stepped into the basement. “More, more of them are coming.” He said a look of fear on his face. “Well then let's get ready for a fight!” Chloe said, cocking the shotgun she’d taken from me. 

My job has asked me to travel internationally in about a month (when I will be 31 weeks). Initially I would have said 'hell no' but there's a few factors that are making me seriously consider it so curious for others' experiences:

• While I'm an older FTM (38 years old), I've had a pretty uneventful pregnancy and don't seem to be high risk (yet)
• I'm traveling now at 26 weeks and feel fine (I'm a bit slower and managed to catch a cold this trip but otherwise have no issues with travel, etc.)
• The big reason I'm considering it is I would be traveling to my 'home' - I'm an American living in Europe and haven't been back to the US since before Covid. I would be traveling to me home town and would get a chance during this trip to see my family and friends (most of which don't even know yet that I'm pregnant!)

Curious to hear from others that have traveled late in their pregnancy? As a US citizen I also would feel ok traveling to the US in the case that something goes wrong and I need medical attention (and truly worse case scenario if I had to have the baby in the US I would be able to stay with family there).

Yes, you read that correctly, yet it does fit a EP doesn't it? Hello btw, I am new to this subreddit, though I have read and listened to a ton of entiltedparents stories and have watched people like Redditor. Ok, now to the story.
First a bit of backstory: I am a 17 year old boy living in a small town in Northern Norway, where there is often poor weather. I attend upper secondary school, or as I refer to it, high school. There are several subjects we can study, like electronics, media and so on. I have sports as a subject, so I'm athletic and do some sports in my free time as well. During this time when I encounter EP, my girlfriend who lives a bit further away from me (like a 7 hour drive basically), who is 16, but will also be 17 this year, was visiting me. Ok, now to the story.
So, around this time, energy drinks have actually been age restricted, which is to say that anyone under 16 can't buy it anymore, when it used to be around the age of 14 when people could buy it. Luckily, me and my girlfriend were already 16, me being 17 already. So we decided to head to the local store and get some energy drinks. It is like a 10 minute walk from my house so no biggie. We got ourselves two boxes of Monster with the Lewis Hamilton taste, and a chocolate bar and headed to the cash register. This is where we encounter the EP and her kid. EP was a typical karen,
Cast: Me: Well me, GF: girlfriend, EP: Entilted parent, EK: Entilted kid and E: employee
We headed to the cash register and let E (a friend of mine actually) scan our items. EP and her kid was behind us. Whilst scanning, E made a joke about us two buying energy drinks due to the restriction, but we laughed it off and said we were old enough.
EP - "Why are you buying that crap?"
I was taken aback by this sudden interruption. Me - "What?"
My GF was also taken aback.
EP - "That stuff is just nothing but crap" she pointed to the two boxes of Monster. "Are you even allowed to buy and drink that stuff?"
Me and my GF looked at each other and replied together "Yes, we're 16" We turned back to E
E - "Right, that will be 103,70 nok" (Which is the equivalent of around 10 dollars for you Americans)
We turned back to E and I took out my card, ready to pay. EP then pushed past my GF and snatched the card from me.
Me - "WTF?!"
EP - "You should not drink that crap (keeping it PG) anyways, it could kill you!"
Now, there are a ton of people who always repeat the line of "That stuff could kill you" when it comes to energy drinks, but bear in mind that drinking many at the same time could actually kill you, but not if you drink one box or two in a day. Only if you drink many at the same time. If that was understandable.
Me - "Only if you drink too many. Me and my GF are responsible enough to only drink 2-3 boxes in a week. Now give me my card back"
GF stepped in. "Hand my BF the card back now."
EP shook her head. "No, you need to be teached a lesson!"
E finally stepped in as well. "Ma'am, give my friend his card back."
EP then gave him a angry look. "You're FRIENDS?! You willingly sell him this stuff?!"
Me and E just look at each other, dumbfounded. E replied "Yes, we attended lower secondary school together and kindergarten as well. He is of age to buy this and is responsible enough to drink it. Now hand my friend the card back now before I call security."
EP huffed and threw my card to the ground. I picked it back up and paid for me and my GF's stuff. Then as I was ready to pick up our stuff, her stupid brat steals our goddamn chocolate bar.
E - "HEY KID! STOP!"
GF - "Stupid brat! STOP!"
The kid runs out the store. Luckily, I begin to chase him and quickly reach him and hold him. EP comes running after, screaming "LET GO OF EK!"
EK - "Get. Off. Me. B****"
I grab back the chocolate bar, and brace myself for the typical Karen rage.
Me - "The hell was-"
EP - "Shut the frick up, I'm calling the police you pedo!"
I was shocked. "What?! Lady, he stole my chocolate bar! You can't call the police on me because I ran after and got my purchase back?!"
She wasn't listening however. Then E and GF came running.
E - "Ma'am, you are not allowed to call the police! There are cameras in the store, and so you will be arrested for lying to the police!"
EP finally came to her senses, having dialed in 112 (Our country's "911" but for the police mainly). She took her kid and went back in the store.
E - "I'm sorry about that. We get customers like her daily, though she was more extreme."
GF - "It's alright. Let's just go home and enjoy a movie with what we bought."
E went back into the store, and we returned home and watched my current favourite movie "Top Gun: Maverick", enjoying our drinks and chocolate, trying to move on from that strange encounter with EP and her kid.

When we met, I was not in the best financial position. I had trouble with money and did not tell her the extent of my issues while we were dating, but she somewhat knew about them. She did understand the full extent, however, before we were married. Regardless, sometimes these issues would cause her to get angry, and I noticed early on that when she gets mad, she raises the intensity fast. And while most of the time it was verbal, there were a couple incidents where she did get physical with me, slapping at me, and one time pushing me so hard I slipped and hit my head.
But we stayed together, because we did care for each other and wanted to see the best life together. After we got married, things calmed down for a little, at least until she opened one of my mail one day to find a letter from the court showing that my record had been sealed, this stemming from my use of a friend’s credit card while in college. I did not tell her about this because I wanted to handle the resolution of it, and in hindsight I should have been open with her. Still, we got through this, and eventually got better jobs and moved to a bigger city, which is when the real issues began.
First they started with some pressure from being closer to my family. I’ve always been big on family, and there were times she saw the way our family interacted with each other and thought they were disrespecting me or her, which was not the case. I would explain to her that our family dynamic is just a little different, and that they do care for us a lot, but she would get angry.
Tension continued to build between us, but I never expressed myself in anger or threats. I keep a calm demeanor when things get heated, something I attribute to my dad. She, on the other hand, has a quick temper and does know what to say to hurt people. Over time, things got more rough and she got angry more often. Things started to really escalate a year ago, when her outbursts started to be more frequent, and more threatening. She could not get over the thought my family was disrespecting us, and no matter how much I tried to calmly reason with her, mention of my family and me agreeing with them would set her off.
Eventually, her outbursts turned to anger that resulted in her shouting she wanted a divorce, wants to be separated, that she hates me, doesn’t know who I am, and that we don’t have any shared interests and would be happier without each other. Through all these times I returned to her and reasoned with her, saying that we just needed to work on finding common interests and what makes us happy to be together. Things would settle for a few weeks, but then pick up again. About five months ago, after a holiday party we hosted at our townhome, she bot belligerently mad with me because I gave leftovers to our neighbors, so much so that when I went to take a shower to diffuse the situation, she followed me, hit and slapped at me in the shower, and pushed me around. I remained stoic and slept in another room that night. While she apologized the next day and said that from there on out she would not complain about anything or act like that, the anger returned. Her requests for divorce continued, she said at one time we were separated and started to sleep in another room, and told me that she cheated on me, all to see if that by saying she did she wouldn’t have to go to a family event.
Again, through all of this, I remained in the mindset that we could fix things, and that we should stay together. But then, about two months ago, her anger got so great that she shouted “I am going to kill you”. While I was scared that night and did hide the knives, I remained with her, but after that I began to process all that had gone on and realize that this relationship was not healthy or happy for either of us.
Fast forward to today: For the last few weeks she could tell I was not in to our relationship anymore, and while I never told her up front why, she noticed. Things came to a head a few days ago, when she asked if I still loved her and wanted to remain together. And while I told her I do still love and care for her, I did not answer the question on if I wanted to remain together, which set her off into a worried and scared mindset, and she began to apologize for everything, how she had viewed my family, and said we just need to remain together and it will all be ok. But I was at a point where I had accepted everything that had happened and realized separation was the healthiest option for us. So for a couple days we talked sparingly, and sometimes about seeing a marriage counselor.
Then, two days ago I checked our bank account and noticed there was a $7,500 withdrawal. I asked her about it, and she said it was for a gift for me, and seemed to be playing it off like a joke. I calmly told her that while it would be appreciated, we were not in a position to give $7,500 gifts to each other, and that I would like to know what it is. She continued not to say what it was. So then, yesterday we continued to talk about it and I eventually asked outright if she had moved the money to another account. At this point she stopped talking, went upstairs, packed her bags, and came down. I remained calm and asked her what was going on, and her attitude immediately changed to one of almost being frightened, and she said she did not feel safe at home, that she was frightened and scared, and was leaving for her safety. Through all this I stayed calm, asked her how and why she felt threatened, told her I had never threatened her or put her in any harmful situations, and just wanted to know what she was doing or trying to do. I also made sure to let her know that I was not trying to prevent her from leaving, that she was free to leave at any time, and all I wanted was to talk about how she felt, because I told her I think I know what she was doing, and that we’ve had conversations with people who know everything that has gone on, and that, again, I had never harmed or threatened her. She said, well, that’s just your word and theirs, before she walked down the stairs, at which point I noticed she was recording the conversation. So now I’m with my family out of town because they did not feel safe with me being home anymore. I don’t know where my wife is but told her where I was going.
Needless to say, we are separating, but I wonder if anyon has gone through such a situation that their separating spouse was making false accusations just before they left?

I've discussed I do event security and site security at my venues. Those venues are State Farm Stadium (AZ Cardinals) and the Phoenix Raceway (NASCAR track).
We always get "looky loos" pulling up to the track gate, wanting to come on property, drive around the track, visit the garages, etc. These requests usually include the phrase "They let you do it in Daytona, or Atlanta." We always give hard NOs for those requests. We do allow visitors to walk up Rattlesnake Hill, which is next to the track, and then can see the property from it. But we can only allow that if other staff are onsite for safety. (Out of town hikers + 105 heat, no humdity + no water = heat casualties.)
My leas up us to the conversation I just had with a visitor. It's fairly standard of what we get almost daily.
Full size SUV pulls up to shack.
Me - Hello, can I help you sir?
DRIVER (D) - We are huge NASCAR fans and in town for the holiday weekend. I just need 10 minutes to get family photos at Victory Lane and the garages. Then we'll run up Rattlesnake Hill quickly for a few more. We have a photo album of all the tracks we visit.
Me- Unfortunately sir, I can't let you on property, because there are no staff members here today. Also because of the health and safety liability, I can't allow you access to RH.
Dad - But we do this all the time in Daytona. They let you have free reign there.
Me - I'm sorry sir. Our policies do not allow me to give you access because staff are not present.
Dad- OK. What time will they be here tomorrow so we can do this then?
Me- Well.. again Unfortunately they are all off tomorrow because of the holiday and won't be back until 8AM Tuesday.
Dad - That won't work, we are driving back tomorrow. I'll just stop in the morning and talk to the guard then about it. It will only take 10 minutes.
Me - Great. See you in the morning since I'm the guard on shift.
Turned and walked away with a smile!

Growing up, I remember it all vividly: any time my friends or I got too close to the shed, my dad would come out hollering and yelling, telling us to stay away from there and that it was no place for kids. He told me he had expensive tools and dangerous chemicals stored there. As a child, I didn’t question it. It was just one of those things. In my mind, I had been born into a world where the sun rises in the east, breakfast is the first meal of the day and the shed stays locked. They were all true, self-evident and simply the way things existed in my young mind.
But as I grew older and eventually moved off to college, I began to question the shed more. My father still wouldn’t let me look in there. In fact, he kept the sole key on his person at all times. Even when he slept, he would keep the key in his pocket.
Then, during my second semester at the nearby state university, I got a call that every son or daughter dreads. I was attending a lecture on anatomy when my phone lit up, ringing silently in the great, crowded hall. Looking down, I saw it was my brother’s number. I went outside, lighting up a cigarette and answering it.
“Hello?” I said. “Gil?” My brother answered immediately.
“Luke, thank God you answered,” he said. “It’s dad. He’s being taken to the hospital. He had some sort of medical emergency. Can you meet us there? In maybe twenty-five minutes?” I said I would, hanging up. I grabbed my stuff in the lecture hall and made my way to my car. Twenty-two minutes later, I pulled into the hospital.
It was too late, however. My father had died of a heart attack on the way. He was declared dead on arrival.
***
We ended up inheriting the house. Our mother had died of breast cancer ten years earlier, so Gil and I were the last two of the Mortin bloodline. My brother was a good guy, though somewhat of a waste case, constantly smoking weed and dropping acid. He had a tendency to travel out far across the country without notice, moving around to see nature or go to music festivals. That is, when he had the money. And since he worked as a freelance writer, he was often broke.
He really wanted to get at the money dad had left us. He wanted the money from the house most of all. He told me repeatedly that it would be enough to tide him over until he got a footing in the writing industry, that he just needed to make a name for himself and then the money would start rolling in. He had his heart set on it. He would write anything that he could make money off of, from horror stories to romances, short stories to novels, even technical manuals or freelance journalism articles. As we walked to the house together for the first time in months, he repeated this mantra to me again: “Just enough to tide me over, Luke…”
“I think you’re probably going to burn through the money that Dad left you,” I said. “Why don’t you get a real job and just write on the side?” He gave me a sideways look.
“Did you see Hunter S. Thompson getting a ‘real job’ while just writing on the side?” he asked. I nodded.
“Yeah, he was a journalist…” I began as we walked into the house, but we both stopped simultaneously when we saw what was on the coffee table. It was all of Dad’s possessions he had when he died. They were placed neatly in a line- his wallet, his phone, his car and house key, some cash, and last of all, a little shed key on a thin, leather chain.
“What do you think is really in that shed?” I asked. Gil looked at me, pale and wide-eyed in the dark living room.
“I don’t really… I don’t know if I want to find out,” Gil said, whispering as if he were in a church- or a funeral home. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.
“Of course we need to find out,” I said. “You and I own this property now. We should go look right now.” He breathed in sharply.
“No, no, don’t be an idiot,” Gil whispered. “It’s dark now. In the morning, we can go together. In the morning. You have waited twenty years to find out, I think you can wait a few more hours.” But there was something pleading in his voice, something scared and child-like. It reminded me of when I was scared as a little boy at bedtime, telling my dad there were monsters in the closet, and he would go to open up the door, and I’d tell him to stop, that they’re going to hurt him if he opens that door. But he would open the door and there would be no monsters in there. Surely, it was the same here. Gil would see, and for that matter, so would I. There were no monsters in there.
***
This all happened from yesterday to this morning. We ended up leaving that place together a few hours ago, bloodied and bruised and injured, after being trapped inside all night.
The day before it started, Gil stayed up late downstairs, watching TV and smoking a joint. He made himself a night-cap from my father’s liquor cabinet, pouring some Jack Daniels and ice in a cup with some Coke and sipping it slowly. I stayed with him for a while, talking.
We talked about the good times we had with Dad, about going hiking with him at the Green Mountains, or traveling to New York City with him to see the museums. I thought about how much I really missed him, and a knot formed in my throat. I quickly blinked my eyes to try to get the tears to go away.
Eventually, I went to sleep in the guest bedroom. Gil stayed downstairs, sleeping on the couch in front of the TV. I heard the faint hum of it from upstairs, the canned laughter of whatever comedy he was watching, the acerbic tone of the lead characters as they delivered one witty joke after another. I fell asleep to it, the voices blending into a sarcastic, hissing whisper in my ear.
And then I was floating, bodiless, looking down on a dark cornfield with ravens staring at me. The voice was bodiless, too, sounding like it came from right behind me, but when I turned, nothing was there.
“In the halls of our fathers, everyone is dead,” it whispered mockingly. “You’ll be dead soon too, if you get curious. Some doors are locked for a reason. Some doors should stay locked.”
I woke up suddenly. Something was wrong. I heard Gil yelling. I fumbled around in the dark for the lamp, groggily checking the time. 4:17 AM. Flinging the comforters off, I ran downstairs.
Gil was sleeping on the couch, still as a corpse, and quiet as one too. I looked around confusedly. Where was the screaming coming from? I followed the noise out back. I looked at the shed, and my blood ran cold as I heard another long cry come from inside. I walked across the dirt yard in my slippers, not wanting to get any closer but walking forwards nonetheless. Part of me wondered if I was still dreaming, but the chill air against my sweaty face felt real enough.
The screaming from the shed was not in words. It was a long, drawn-out, painful shriek. It was the shriek of a mother who just lost her only child in a war zone, or the yell of someone doused with gasoline and burned alive, but amplified into an ear-splitting cacophony. I had the key in my pocket. I reached for it with shaking hands, pulling it out, slowly approaching the shed.
Then someone grabbed my shoulder. I jumped, whirling around with clenched fists, ready to fight. Then I saw it was Gil.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I said through clenched teeth. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He put his finger to his lips, the universal signal for silence. Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered.
“If you open that shed now, we will both die,” he said quietly and calmly, as if he were just stating the weather for tomorrow. “Put the key away and go back to bed. You never want to open it in the dark. Never.”
“What do you know about it?” I whispered back, shooting glances over my shoulder at the shed. The screaming still came, though slower now, maybe one heart-rending shriek every minute or so. Part of me was glad there were no neighbors for half a mile in each direction, and that made me want to laugh. There was probably some horrific animal in there that would rip me apart if it got the chance, and I was thinking about noise complaints.
“Tomorrow,” Gil repeated, gently taking my arm and leading me back into the house. I sat next to him in the living room, pouring myself a gin and tonic, sipping it slowly as the screams from behind the house mixed with the canned laughter of the TV show, wondering what kind of man my father really was.
***
I woke on the couch, an empty glass falling out of my hand onto the cushion. Light streamed in through the windows. Gil was nowhere to be found. I looked back and forth, then heard the sizzling of food from the kitchen.
Stumbling in, I saw he had prepared a massive breakfast of bacon, sausages, corned beef hash, eggs Benedict with Hollandaise sauce, Texas toast, orange juice and coffee. He was smoking a joint with the windows opened, occasionally sending a grim look out the back of the house towards the shed. I sat down, pouring myself some coffee and grabbing milk and sugar to mix in.
“Who is all this food for?” I asked. He kept staring out the window. “Hey!” He turned suddenly, his face looking pale and drawn.
“What?”
“I said, who is all this food for?” I repeated. He looked around, smiling.
“Just for us. Why not? I figure you will need the energy today, and so will I,” he said cryptically. He sat down across from me, pouring himself coffee and orange juice and grabbing a plateful of meat, toast and eggs. I did the same, giving him occasional glances.
“What did Dad tell you?” I asked, pouring maple syrup on my sausages and bacon and chugging an entire cup of coffee in one long swallow. It burned my throat, but the rising heat and caffeine made me feel instantly better and more awake. Gil sighed heavily.
“Not much, to tell you the truth,” he said. “He was really drunk one time when you were away at college, a couple months ago. He was drinking more and more before he died, like something was weighing on him, something he wanted to forget. Well, anyway, I was sitting down here with him, watching those documentaries he used to love with him, and during a commercial, he just started talking about the shed.
“‘Now boy,’ he said to me, ‘I know you probably have a few questions for me. I probably should have told you and your brother about it a long time ago, but it is something I don’t like to talk about. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess. I think talking about it tends to wake it up.’
“‘Wake up what?’ I said. Dad was quiet for a long time, just staring at me. Then he leaned close to me and whispered something strange.
“‘The stairs,’ he said. ‘They’re not normal, son. Sometimes they go down below the shed to a… Well, I guess it is just an empty sub-floor. Just a plain, swept dirt basement below the shed. But I never built any such sub-floor, and it wasn’t here when I bought the house, and it isn’t on the plans either. If that was it, then who would care? Hah, a free storage place, people would be happy, right?’ I nodded, grinning back at Dad. He seemed to have a glimmer of his old self for a second, happy and free. But then his face darkened again.
“‘But lots of times, boy, those stairs do not lead to a sub-floor. One time, they led down to a white room covered in blood, with bright fluorescent lights flickering all over the walls and ceiling. And there was a little girl down there, dancing among all the blood, jumping and twirling in her little blue dress, little ballerina slippers on her feet, and all the skin on her face peeled off. She was just a bloody, grinning skull. And when she saw me on the spiral steps in the corner, she stopped dancing and just stared. The lights began to turn off, everything went dark, and I ran, my boy, I ran faster than I have ever run in my life. I felt little hands grabbing at me as I made my way up the last stair and slammed that shed door behind me. I locked it as something fought to get out, something that felt far stronger than any child. And that was just one time.
“‘It’s worse at night. That’s when the real dangerous ones come out. I don’t know how the stairs work, son, and I don’t think I ever really want to. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll never have to deal with them. Maybe I’ll find a way to destroy them before I die. Aye, maybe…’” Gil stopped speaking, deep in thought and remembrance. I took another sip of juice and ate some bacon before responding.
“So you’re telling me Dad went batshit crazy before he died?” I asked. Gil shook his head quickly.
“He wasn’t crazy, Luke,” he said simply. “At least, I don’t think he was. If he was, the stairs probably made him that way. Do you really think that you were just hearing a fox or something caught in the shed last night? Those screams sounded human. We both know that was something unnatural. But I wouldn’t worry if I were you. If you need proof, we’ll have plenty after today- assuming you still want to go into the shed.” And after we finished eating, with no fanfare or delay, we did. I grabbed the key, and Gil and I went out side by side, scared but not showing it, ready to finally see for ourselves the mystery that had haunted our family for decades.
***
We walked through the hard-packed dirt yard, looking down the grassy field behind the house to the rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see. They began to grow blue, pale and fuzzy near the horizon. It was a beautiful place to live, and hard to imagine something so evil might be right in the middle of it.
The shed loomed up ahead of us, boards tightly hammered together and freshly painted a dark red color. The shingles on the small roof all looked relatively new, and the door was expensive and sturdy. I stood in front of the door, listening for the sounds of any movement, but there was nothing. I fumbled in my pocket for the key, pulling it out, looking at Gil who stood close by my side. Then I shoved it in the lock and opened the door.
The shed was dark, as if a curtain of shadow fell across the open door. I stuck my head in, feeling around the side for a lightswitch. And that was when something grabbed my hand. I screamed, ready to pull my hand out and run, and then I felt the lightswitch on the wall. I flicked it on quickly. There was no one in there. Shaking, I turned to Gil.
“Something grabbed me,” I whispered. He nodded, unsurprised. Then we walked in the shed together.
The walls inside were all covered with plates of sheet metal. Every square inch of the shed was reinforced with steel, including the roof, which had a flat pane of metal going straight across the shed, welded to the four that covered the walls. Only the floor was unprotected. It was just a plain dirt floor with a hole in the center.
Looking closer at the protective structure of the shed, I saw deep claw and gouge marks raking the metal’s surface, even those on the bottom of the ceiling eight feet above the floor. Something had clearly been in here and wanted very badly to get out.
I inched closer to the hole in the floor, which took up most of the floor of the shed. It was at least ten feet wide. Looking down, I saw spiraling steps, descending in a clockwise fashion as far down as the light extended. I found a small rock on the ground outside, came back in and dropped it down the center of the stairway. I listened for it to hit bottom, counting the seconds on my watch. After about thirty seconds, I realized it wasn’t going to. Maybe it was too far down to hear when the stone connected.
I looked over at Gil. He was standing as near to the door as he could get, looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. I gave him high marks for courage, though. There was something wrong in here, and I could feel it. Outside, it was warm and a fresh breeze blew the smell of flowers and pines through the yard. But in here, it was cold and oppressive. A freezing chill seemed to come from the hole in the floor, spiraling up with the stairs and running over my body, sending a feeling like ice running up and down my back.
“Do you want to go first, or should I?” I said, gesturing to the hole. Gil stared at me as if I had gone mad, his eyes widening.
“Why in the fuck should either of us go?” he said, raising his hands and using them to gesticulate wildly as he often did when he was upset. I shrugged.
“This is our property now,” I said. “We need to at least know what’s on it, don’t you think?” But there was another reason too. It was sheer curiosity, and a desire to prove to myself that there was nothing supernatural going on here, no monster in the closet, just the overactive imagination of an old man. Gil sighed.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go. Go grab two flashlights and Dad’s gun. Maybe some extra batteries. Some extra magazines too. Better safe than sorry, after all…”
We both went inside the house together, leaving the shed door wide open, and that was when, I believe, something got out. And then the killings in town began.
***
We descended the stairs slowly. They were stone, slick in some places. There was no guard rail or any protective barrier, which made my heart beat a little faster. I liked something to hold onto. If I took a tumble on these stairs, I might keep falling forever.
We heard strange sounds from below periodically, but when we shone our lights down there, we couldn't see anything. Echoes rose around us, sounding at one point like kids playing a game of hide and seek, at another like the howling of a wolf. Strange squeaks and clicks would also arise intermittently from the shaft below us, and then stop as quickly as they had started.
The noises got louder as we descended dozens of stories, then hundreds. It seemed like the stairs would just keep going on forever, until we hit the mantle of the Earth and got burned up. Then a door appeared, painted a chipped blue with a fading daisy on the center of it. I looked at Gil, then swung it open.
Beyond it, a hallway with fluorescent lights extended as far as the eye could see. Countless rooms went off it to the left and right. The lights flickered on and off, sending portions of the hallway into darkness. The floor was falling apart in many places, with strange molds and fungi growing out of the wood. White and black molds battled for space, forming huge colonies that were bigger than my shoe. I walked forward, putting my weight gingerly on the floorboard. It creaked slightly and felt wet under my shoe, yet it held my weight.
“Come on,” I said to Gil, who followed closely behind. As soon as we had walked a few steps down the hall, the door slammed shut by itself behind us. I jumped and turned, pulling out the gun reflexively. Gil put a hand on my shoulder, pushing the gun back down.
“It’s OK,” he said. I was breathing hard, my heart hammering in my chest. Maybe that was why I didn’t hear the counting at first.
But as we walked down the decayed hallway, the lights turning on and off above us with every step, I realized that someone was counting, and it had been going on for a while. It sounded like the voice of a little girl.
“Forty… thirty-nine… thirty-eight…” she said, counting off the seconds. I heard giggling from the rooms around us, but I couldn’t see anyone. We kept walking forward, but that counting was getting on my nerves- not least because I couldn’t for the life of me tell where it was coming from.
We checked the rooms to the left and the right. There were broken tables, old office equipment and chairs in nearly all of them. Some of them had fish tanks, but instead of fish, they had plumes of multi-colored molds growing over the top of them, or, in one case, a dead and dried-out turtle.
“...one… ready or not, here I come!” the girl’s voice screamed gleefully, and that was when all the lights went out at once. We quickly fumbled for our flashlights, turning them on at the same time. I had the gun in one hand crisscrossed with the flashlight in the other, a trick I had seen used in cop shows. Gil had a ten-inch bowie knife in one hand, which he had just removed from the massive scabbard he had it in around his leg. In his other hand, he held the flashlight, which he frantically shone back and forth, up and down.
“Geez, calm down with that thing,” I said. “You’re going to make me dizzy.”
“Something’s coming,” Gil whispered, a note of dread in his voice. “Don’t you hear it?” I stopped, listening hard. Indeed, I heard footsteps nearing, small suppressed giggles, the swishing of a dress. My flashlight illuminated a pale face, a little boy sneaking a peak out of the nearest room. He was filthy, covered in black soot with torn clothing and what looked like blood caked into his hair. He looked up at us quickly then withdrew into the room. For the first time, I felt genuinely scared. Now we could be certain we were being watched.
“Hey!” I whispered, running into the room after him. Gil followed close behind me. The footsteps seemed to be right next to us now, but I looked around, not seeing anyone. Then a blur of movement passed by as a little girl ran over to the little boy, where he was curled in the corner under a broken folding table, crying and shaking with terror.
“Found you!” she said. I shone my light directly at her back, seeing a pale blue dress, but I couldn’t see her face.
“Get away from that kid!” I yelled. She ignored me, bending down quickly, and before I knew what had happened, she had ripped the boy’s throat out with her teeth. She turned to look at us, and I saw that her face had been cut off, and now only a grinning skull remained. It was covered in a thin sheen of blood, and two tiny white pinpoints of light seemed to glow inside the empty sockets of her eyes. With her teeth full of flesh and gristle and fresh rivulets of blood running down her skeletal mouth, she continued to cry, “Found you! Found you! Found you!”
Without hesitation, I shot her in the shoulder. She fell back a half-step, turning to look at me with that skeletal grin, then spun around and continued eating the little boy. He was still alive, choking on his own blood, his huge eyes moving over to me as he died, as if accusing me of being the cause of all this. The sound of his last gurgling breaths were the only sounds now. I shot her again, but she wouldn’t go down. A blossom of blood began to spread outwards on her back where I had shot her, but she showed no pain. Gil grabbed my shoulder tightly.
“We need to get out of here,” he said through gritted teeth. I nodded. We ran back to the door we had come in through, but it was locked tight. The lights were still off. I told Gil to take a step back, then tried shooting at the lock. The bullet ricocheted crazily as if I had shot a reinforced army tank rather than a plain wooden doorway. Next we tried kicking it open, but it was as if it were fused to the wall.
I turned to look at him, and the truth passed between us in a glimpse. To get out, we would have to go farther in, where there were likely even worse things waiting for us.

Had a recent trip to Barcelona, and was absolutely floored with the value compared to the US.
What I'm used to: Based in Miami, ATL. Got into hobby last year, started off by getting scammed big by 2 girls at Club E11ven. Transitioned to strip club circuit like Tootsies. My best exp there was a dayshift Cubana a 10/10 enhanced brunette for $500/30 min VIP, all covered action, no GFE or kissing. Focused more on ATL clubs, started getting 8-9/10 Latinas for $400/30 min. Learned more, now I'm consistently $270-$300/30 min with still hot girls, although just basic service. My absolute best was this Lana Rhoades look alike Italian American stripper, $300/30 min at her hotel. Kissing & BBBJ included (she's long since diseappeared). Eventually tried Amsterdam 2x and loved it. While I hear its lost its hey day, but for me I love the fast food McDonalds approach for Red Light District, 100-150E/30min with wiggle room, and the convenience to check out the goods right there in a fun safe city.
Onto Barcelona, 7 providers, all I finished with CF&S. Tools: Sexmercadobcn, independent providers post there and the forum links reviews for many providers. Blurred faces so I stuck with recent/highly reviewed girls. Tip: Schedule to be the girls' first session if possible. I find they're fresh as can be.
Ana & Ashley. I made 2 separate appointments in the morning. Both are mid/late 20's, blondes, enhanced pornstar bodies (big fake tits, BBL) but are very high quality and well done. Each with a unique and sexy face (Ana is Polish, Ashley is Canary Islands), absolute 10s to me. Both were responsive via Whatsapp and hosted in their clean apts in nice part of icy -Ana: was 150E for 60 min, Ashley 250E for 60 min. Both included much french kissing, BBBJ, and GFE despite some language barrier. I didn't push for CIM. Ashley was fantastic, but Ana was far more economical & as good. -Near half the price, 2x as long, and in the comfort of a safe, clean room with a bed and not some uncomfortable club, as well as extra. To me, its 4x the value
Mia: Used the Eden private brothel. Messaged them from their Sexmercado page. Very responsive, the rooms are ok but harsh from fluorescent lighting. Mia, a mid 20s Venezuelan. 9/10 in looks, youthful perky, stacked Latin body with tasteful fake tits. Performance was average. Submissive which I like, included BBBJ, but no GFE, kissing, and she rushed the session. Knowing Spanish would've helped. -120 Euro ($130) for 60 min. Still one of my local clubs girls will charge you that just for 6 air dances.
Denise/Sugar Girls: This is a private discrete brothel, but they have website. Lots of turnover of girls so availability is inconsistent and reviews arent deep. They were very responsive via Whatsapp, similar nice part of town. Rooms are nice, with shower. They do edit their photos, while my girl was still hot she's slightly better on the site. I advise a lineup every time, I'd get 8 or 10 girls and only want to pay for 2 or 3. Dennise is this all natural tattooed girl from Bilbao. Perky pierced B cups, thick fit trunk, built like a softball player with a face like Juelz Ventura. Lots of kissing, but CBJ this time. -150E/60 min. Great fun personality, felt like a party.
Alice/TeensBCN: Another popular private brothel. Same deal, whatsapp, responsive, nice part of town. Rooms were like a motel/dorm room. Alice is a Greek girl with great English, plain faced but feminine, large breasts with natural low hang on her mid 20s body. Like a smaller version of Gianna Michaels. Because of no language barrier, we clicked, she made it feel like a true fun flirty hookup as if I took her from the bar. Kissing, GFE, BBBJ included. -Around 120E for 60
Forgotten named Cuban & Lena/Maison Close: My first public brothel. Just walked in, a discrete initial door in a quiet, nice part of town but you see the branding once in. Nicest rooms of them all, spacious, nice shower. Cuban: Blonde slim Barbie bimbo, body a 9, face a 7.5. Good CBJ, deepthroated. No GFE, kissing. But still a good experience. Lena: My final girl the night before my flight home, wow addicted to her. An early 20s spinner Uruguayan, with big soft juicy fake tits, slender frame but still had curves to her ass. Because of our heights, leverages were great. Even after days of 2 sessions a day, and 1 that morning with other girls, I knew within 10 min this girl was electric. I will be requesting her specifically next visit.
Barcelona for me has been the perfect monger city. It's a great place to visit as is, food is great, not expensive if you travel smart. Most of year is decent weather. Then you have 20+ options from big public brothels to independent girls all with 15 min of you. If I lived in Europe I'd been in Barcelona & AMS every other weekend and still be less money than what I'd need to spend in the US. If they werent $1800+ flights through winter, I'd probably never use a US provider again.
Future targets, would stick to clubs as a first timer. Frankurt: Sharks Oase. Just learning about FKK clubs and seems like an easy 2-3 day bender. Vienna: Wellcum, technically 3 hr drive from Vienna. Would need 4-5 days but another well reviewed FKK where you can stay in their hotel included." Sao Paolo: Scandalo
Going to Colombia very soon and will post on that. Santa Fe and escorts. Feel free to DM if questions or to talk shop