Title says it all, was wondering if I could get some input from the community as to what to do next.
This afternoon a neighbour told me the passenger side door of my car was slightly ajar. Thought maybe my son didn’t close it when he got out last night
Went to inspect but I noticed the rear seat (that lets you into the boot) had been pulled down and the car and items were missing
Thankfully nothing of great value, prescription ray bans, a mag light torch, the usb cable that connects to the CarPlay unit, they emptied the glove compartment of air fresheners, spare bulbs, and my insurance cover note, they even took chamois cloths and leather wipes from the driver side door sill and emptied the wee compartment where I keep coins for toll booths etc probably a couple of quid, they even took a used vape lol.
The car was definitely locked, and it has a function where it locks automatically after 5 minutes if parked up. It’s a Golf GTI.
Here’s the clinker: I have cctv (google nest) but my subscription ran out on Thursday and I didn’t get around to renewing it -you can imagine my anger and regret. I have obviously renewed it and I reached out to google to see if they could pull any footage from the cloud via what’s called their “takeout” service. But they said it’s unlikely there will be anything recorded as my subscription was not active
The perpetrators must have used an electronic drive to gain entry, i assume this as the boot was still locked hence why they tried to gain entry to the boot via the back seat. I know about devices like the flipper zero that thieves have been using to gain entry to cars and buildings.
What should I do? Do I tell my insurer? Call the cops? I fear they may feel the incident too benign.
Absolutely disgusted.
Most of all I would like my prescription sunglasses back 😢
Thanks folks

I female (13) told my dad male (39) what my mom female (33) was telling my sister female (15) that he should give my mom 3 of his apartments. For a little background my mom and dad have been separated for almost 2 years and have been coparenting and all of this drama took place about 3 or 2 months ago, alright onto what happened, My mom and dad got into a very serious fight and my mom threatened to kill him multiple times in this fight as for my dad he took us away and drove to the nearest police station my sister pleaded cried and screamed and kept telling him not to go to the police station while me and my brother stayed quiet he went to the police station even after my sisters begging and made us stay in the car my sister called my mom and told her what our dad was doing and she came speeding I’m telling you she came in under 5 minutes and when she saw us at the police station and parked she came out of her car SCREAMING and cursing my father out, people came by to look what was happening because I say my mom was SCREAMING and after all that happened she dragged me and my sibling to her car to take us but I told her my stuff were still in our fathers car and she told me to go get my stuff and hurry up she followed behind me and as I opened the door to the car she took out a BIG pocket knife and started slashing my fathers car seats I was stunned and realized that she wasn’t joking and she really wanted to kill him I took my stuff and rushed to the car telling my mom to not do anything stupid and get in the car and then she drove far from the police station and then turned into a corner near to a forest I didn’t know what we were doing there and then it happened my father called my sister and my sister started going all out on my father I was stunned that my father just sat back and took it he kept agreeing with her and was saying sorry to my sister and then my mother muted her phone and started telling my sister to tell my father that he should give 3 of his apartments to my mother in order for HER to forgive him? I was stunned at what my mother was using my sister to do??? I just sat and listened to everything and he kept telling my sister that he could not do that but I guess he couldn’t take it anymore then AGREED to do it this man was too soft!! I felt extremely bad and angry my mother needed air so when she got out of the car I stole her phone quickly and turned on her hotspot and then I quickly went into WhatsApp and texted my father he was still on a call with my sister so he saw the text I texted him saying that I needed to tell him something important and then I told him to go and check the back seat of his car he was shocked and then told my sister that “you know your mother slashed up my car’s seats?” My sister didn’t know this and was shocked also but kept ranting about the apartments because she had to do it and then I told my father what my mom was telling my sister to do, he saw it, he told my sister that everything is alright and he won’t be giving my mom the apartments and then HUNG UP after this my mom drove home fuming and then she called my father and they both started arguing and cursing each other my mom kept us home the entire week because it’s my father that brings us to school after the week past everything calmed down I think it’s because they were doing it for our sake, there comes the weekend we stayed over our fathers house on Sunday they suddenly started arguing and this was a BIG argument I was scared and after the argument our mom called my my sister and told her to bring me she didn’t want our brother to come because he’s 5 and won’t understand anything she told us that she was bleeding from her vagina and she was having massive nose bleeds after we comforted her and then hung up I was confused I asked my sister how she was bleeding from her vagina? And then my sister told me everything my mom was pregnant but she didn’t know if it was my dads or her boyfriends because she was intimate with both of them this coming year and she was apparently 8 MONTHS PREGNANT and my sister told me that about 2 days ago she asked if my mom was pregnant and my mom said yes but she didn’t know if it was my fathers or her boyfriend to be honest with you it was very obvious she was pregnant because a few months ago I found an ultrasound picture in her vanity and when I asked her about it she said it was a cyst I was confused but I let it go and I noticed her belly was getting bigger and bigger but I obviously let it go I actually didn’t think she was pregnant or why she lied to me but not my sister 😞 so my brother basically had a miscarriage and she was getting extremely sick my dad obviously didn’t care about this (he doesn’t even know she’s pregnant and he still doesn’t know) I start to feel extreme guilt and I felt extremely bad every.single.day I would think about what I had done because if I never told my dad about what she was doing none of this would have happened my mom is doing better now a days but is still very sick I really regret it and I think I’m an asshole for doing this to her I really don’t know what to do am I really an asshole for helping out my father? Please tell me..

Hi looking for a 2nd opinion here. Rented my home out for the wknd. It was for a party of 8 and the women that rented it "Linda" said she had some out of town guests. It was a little odd because her daughter "Lauren" showed up first for the door code. Probably shouldn't of given it to her, but it was hot and she said her mom wasn't far behind. Forgot to say I reached out to Linda at noon. Couldn't reach her, so left a text for her to call me. I never heard from her until I called a couple hours after Lauren arrived.On the phone Linda never mentioned any changes with the purpose for the reservation. So, I thought all was well, until my neighbor started calling and informed they're having a bacherlotte party. The daughter was out in my yard with her friends, wearing a a veil my driveway had 7 cars in it, they were cars parked at my neighbors and they were being very loud. I called air bnb and they sent me some type of report to fill out.It took a hot minute for me to receive the link for this report. Which took a hot minute. By the time they sent the report most of the party left - I think they were going out to the bars. It was late, I knew the disruption for my neighbors was over- I went to bed This morning I watched my ring and they had minimally 16 at their party. Probably 10 that returned from the bar and stayed the night. Really pisses me off because I feel like they were purposely using my side door because there isn't a ring (doorbell). Geeeez. Most of my guests have been great, I've had a few slobs and a few with unreasonable expectations. But, this is a first!!! I haven't had anybody blatantly lie about the purpose of their stay. Anyway, parties over and I'm not sure how to handle this, since they're booked for tonight too. At this point, am I a jerk if I fill out the report and have air bnb give them the boot? Should I let it go? Wondering how other hosts would handle this situation? *Thank You for your thoughts

Humanity's plan...
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Memory Transcription Subject: Tarva, Governor of the Venlil Republic
Date [Standard Human Time]: November 4, 2136
…
Meier?
By the great protector… what has become of you?!
He stared down at me… with more eyes than what was needed… with more heads than what was needed… He stood still… completely focused upon me, gauging my reaction… I was terrified… Has Meier really broken?...
Of course he has… he hates us… They have every right to unleash their wrath upon us…
“I intend to speak to a lot of you… you were a delegation supposed to be sent to meet me after all~... I figured I would simply make the trip myself.”
Meier no doubt wanted vengeance for humanity, why wouldn’t he? Why wouldn’t any of them? I simply sat frozen as Meier walked around me to make his way into the building…
…
I followed him…
I couldn’t understand my reasoning, but Meier and humanity deserved to feel some sense of satisfaction after this tragedy that befell them… and if our enslavement was their goal, then so be it… it’s not like we can do anything to stop them… they have the Arxur defending them… and have the capacity to produce of ship of such a large size as the one looming over our planet’s capitol…
The other Ambassadors were all mouth agape staring in disbelief at the sight of Meier in such a suit… It was so intimidating… how could anyone feel any sort of comfort staring into all those forward facing mechanical eyes…
They slowly began to follow suit as we all filtered back into the building where Meier went to stand on the podium where I was standing only moments before… Those mechanical eyes of his stared out at all the ambassadors with a disdain unlike any other… we could all feel him seething in rage.
His voice when he spoke was cold and bitter… “Do you like the fact… that my people’s entire culture has been erased? That all our achievement and aspiration was for naught? Do you like it when people have to suffer? All because they aren’t like you? All because of such a petty thing regarding eye placement and diet? That’s all it takes for you to decide a species' worthiness?... All of you are idiots…”
His words stung… they cut deep now more than they ever did before… I looked around to see the other Ambassadors and their heads hung low… all but the Duertians…
“Human… the reasons for this is Because of what the Arxur have do-”
“Shut your beak you feathered fuck”
The Duertian was taken aback by this comment and was about to snap back before Meier continued… “You take what the Arxur does and apply that behavior to all predators… that is Illogical… that is propaganda set forth by the Federation… Propaganda you all have been fed since birth in order for the Federation to maintain its control over you… Predators are not a threat to you… you are a threat to predators… because you have refused to see reality through anything but this lens the Federation has taught you to see through… one that ultimately is the stupidest way to perceive the world we live in… you have burned innocent creatures over the crime of existence… and I hate you for it… because you brought that fate upon us… Because you made me a monster we both feared I’d become…”
…I hung my head low as these words sharper than any claw burrowed deep within my mind. I didn’t want to believe it to be true… but the fact was undeniable.
Meier continued again, with an even colder tone, “I have been forced to become the monster that you WANTED me to be… so you could justify your ABUSE and GENOCIDE against my people when we wanted nothing peace… when we wanted nothing but friends in the stars… Now? I don’t want friends as disgusting as you… underneath federation influence… What do I want from you, it is not friendship… But obedience… We will accept you as vassals… but there are terms that will be met… or you will face the consequences… Am I clear~?”
…
We collectively nodded… this was more than I was expecting to receive from Meier’s offer… I… counted myself lucky… I didn’t know if others agreed with me on that, but from what I saw from the other ambassadors around me, they seemed to share my sentiment to a certain extent… Cupo stepped forward, “What are the conditions for our collective vassalization, human?”
“I’m glad you asked… There are four terms that we have for you to meet… First, is the Eradication of exterminators as a profession… They are nothing more than walking federation propaganda posters, we will go about establishing new law enforcement in your world using a code of conduct from our world. My second term is the deletion of all anti-predator propaganda… I don’t want to see a single bit of it… anywhere… The third term is that you are to provide us with a yearly shipment of 20 percent of your annual alloy production… I will send our freighters to retrieve them from you in two weeks… and lastly? I want none of your Navys diminished… your naval capacity will be relative to the amount of territory you possess; with only 250 ships per system… along with the fact none of your warships are never allowed near sol again…”
…
HUH!?
The last part caught me completely off guard! THEY WANT OUR NAVIES TO BE DIMINISHED?! The rest of the ambassadors all gasped and they began to speak out against the final term before Meier held up his hand to silence us all…
“Enough… the reason for this is because I am going to allocate parts of our navy to be stationed on the defensive in each of your systems… You stay loyal and obedient to us? We will defend you from Federation and Dominion assaults…”
There was a general unease from me and quite a few others, humanity surely didn’t have the naval capacity to defend us all in such a way… I spoke up, “Meier? How many ships do you have within your navy as of now?”
He responded with a staggering, “2,900, once we have enough warships to defend us as well as you? You are to diminish your navies as we say so…”
This caused a collective Jaw drop in us all… I-... HOW!?
“H-How could you have so many ships when the… the B-battle of earth was only several days ago?!” The Zurulian spoke up, a stutter ever present within his voice as he spoke up to Meier…
Meier responded with, “I will not explain to you the method of our ship production… other than our drive to bring our wrath upon those we see worthy of destruction… The extermination fleet has made us the monster they feared us to be, and frankly, the one they wanted us to be…”
There was one question I had to ask… “What does that mean for… the Tilfish and Harchen?”
Meier went quiet for a few seconds… staring down at me whilst entering a state of deep thought, “I would like the two of them to step before me…”
There was a great unease to the demand made by the secretary General… but after a moment of uncomforting silence, the two species were shuffling through the crowd. Meier stared down at them with a great disdain… His eyes were filled with the most predatory rage…
“To you… we will present you an ultimatum… we will only be willing to accept you as vassals after your home worlds are bombarded down to 1 billion each… You will suffer as we have suffered and burned as we have burned… any and all remaining exterminators are to be slaughtered like cattle and marshal law shall be enforced upon the surviving populace…”
…
The deathly silence that followed plagued the remaining ambassadors at the demand…
…
I myself couldn’t believe it…
“W-Wha?! Bombard our homes?! You DARE to tarnish our world against our-”
The arm that the Tilfish was pointing at the Human with suddenly disappeared… blood poured out of the socket where the appendage used to reside, the sound of pouring caused the Tilfish to slowly take notice, before it realized it’s missing appendage and screamed out in terror. Both the Tilfish and harchen backed away from the human.
Looking back at Meier, one of his mechanical heads possessed the Tilfish arm… before biting down upon it like a hydraulic press, and flattening into a thin paste… I and all other ambassadors were frozen solid at this course of action… While not with his actual mouth, Meier essentially bit down upon the piece of Tilfish he possessed… we were all too shocked to scream out, but the Tilfish who was in pain, and the Harchen who was trying to comfort them…
“Failure to accept the Ultimatum presented to you shall result in the UN persecuting your species to extinction… I don’t think you want that… right~?”
That word…extinction…
It was spoken with such venom… The playful nature which Meier spoke to the Tilfish was all so uncomforting…
“You are one of the species willing to vassalize yourselves to us… to that we will respect… but our ultimatum will be met… surely you’d like to survive, unlike the other species that participated in the attack? You are the only transgressor species we will give the chance of survival… Do you accept it?” The air went thick as we all waited for a response…
………..
“We… accept…”
The Tilfish and Harchen both said… I… I don’t know what to say…
“Good…”, said Meier, “All other species of the extermination fleet, along with Kolshians, are to be deported to the old Mazic colony on the world of Holdra… I want none of them within MY vassal state’s territories…”
S-Surely Meier couldn’t be serious… not all of them are to blame for the extermination fleet… they had no part in it! It was unjust and…
He… he doesn’t care… none of them do… other than the Tilfish and Harchen… all of those species are going to be erased… so this was the fate of the Federation?... How fitting…
“You should feel relieved to have unconditionally surrendered to us… for everyone else within the federation? We declare war… and will not stop until unconditional surrender… of all races we will permit survival… the founding races and the extermination fleet races shall face extinction… NO COMMENT NEEDED!”
…..
…..
…..
What have we done to humanity…
Meier stepped off the podium and began to walk towards the exit to return to his shuttle. The hateful aura surrounding him became ever more apparent and he turned back to face us as he closed the door to the landing pads…
So… this is our future… humanity’s vassals for all eternity?... Who am I kidding… this is mercy to what they could be doing… I know not for the reason, but in my mind, I know I can save Meier from himself… I need to… for everyone… The fate of the galaxy rests in humanity’s hands… and I must help them save themselves… to save us all…
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At almost 70, I was not really interested in Ozempic/semaglutides until the day I saw my 39yo daughter spend 7 hours cleaning and fixing things in the house! We are a family of ADHD compounded by laziness and things are always in a state of "I really need to do..." or "I really should do..." and then never do. So I really had a raised eyebrow as I witnessed my daughter being productive! At that time, I think she was about 4-5 weeks in to Wegovey.
Today, on Day 3 of OZ, i just thoroughly cleaned the kitchen including scrubbing the stove, the counters, the air fryer and the kitchen sink. From there, I moved into my bedroom and cleaned the damn ceiling fan blades! How many hundreds of days have I looked up from my chair and said "I really need to clean those!"?
And of course I didn't stop there. At one point, I even got on my knees! I know for a fact that my knees have not seen the floor in over a year.
it is very odd. It is not like getting all hyped up on speed from diet pills. It isn't like that at all. I don't have this surplus of energy either. It is more a mental thing of one task leading to another and "Why not?"
This is all I hoped for from this amazing medication. Here's hoping it continues! 69F SW227.5 GW189 - T2, Triple bypass 3 years ago and now PAD restricting blood flow through my legs.

The building had a reputation for being haunted. Kids would dare each other to go inside, but unlike other places around town, they would actually see something- or at least claim that they did.
Little Jamie Curry, 9-years-old, went into the basement of the abandoned Leatherman’s complex on a dare and saw a zombie. He said he knew it wasn’t just some guy in an outfit because the zombie had a grapefruit-sized hole in its chest, and he could actually see right through the middle of the thing. He had run right past his group of friends who were patiently waiting outside, screaming and wetting himself as he went.
Another young kid from my town, Alicia DeSilva, 11-years-old, said it was all a bunch of garbage, that she wasn’t afraid of a run-down factory building, except for maybe the asbestos which her uncle told her “rots your lungs from the inside”. She had said she would even go inside it at night. Why not? After all, there were no such things as ghosts or boogeymen.
One of her friends told Alicia that if she went inside Leatherman’s main building at night, grabbed something from the basement and brought it back out for their mutual inspection, the friend would pay Alicia five dollars. Alicia had gasped. Five bucks was a good amount to someone like her. With five dollars, she could even get a kit so that she could finally fix her bike tire. They all met in front of the building, and Alicia disappeared into the dark fire doors on the side of the building, full of bravado and still laughing as she went inside.
Except unlike Jamie Curry, Alicia never came back out screaming and wetting herself, never had a chance to tell some unbelievable story about what she encountered in the fetid basement of that place. Her body was never found. The police were called after a few hours, and they searched the entire building from top to bottom. They were able to follow some fresh footprints in the dust that might have been Alicia’s, but when they got to the basement, the prints just disappeared- as if the person making them had simply gotten sucked up into the ceiling. And yet they did find one thing, the only real evidence left in the entire building that night. What they found still gives me nightmares sometimes.
One of her eyeballs was inside a snowglobe. The glass and foundation of the snowglobe were all intact, and there were no signs of foul play anywhere on the decoration. It was as if it had been manufactured that way- with that blue, staring eye floating lazily next to plastic mountains and white glitter snowflakes.
In my nightmares, I often see an old woman shaking that snowglobe, an old hag who cackles and whose split lips form into a dreadful smile as she stares directly at me. The eye and the glitter all hang suspended in the water for a moment, then begin to fall slowly, the eye spinning rapidly as it drifts down the front of the globe. And when it’s stopped, I see it is looking directly at me, and it still looks frightened.
***
OK, so that last paragraph was pretty dark. But what I’m trying to communicate is just how terrifying that place is. The kids in school know what’s going on, though, at least in a general way. After all, Alicia and Jamie came from among them, and they’re not the only ones. Others have gone into the building before. And Matt wants me to go with him tomorrow to look at it.
Maybe that’s why the dreams are getting worse. Maybe that’s why I’ve woken up screaming twice in the last few hours. Because there was something else, too, something else I saw in my nightmares. In that building, around the back walls, there were dozens of kids. Their skin was chalk-white, their hair and eyes all pure black. They were dead. And then thousands of “Missing” posters started to fly down, all of them of smiling children. I looked between the ones surrounding me and the posters and noticed that some of them showed these same kids. I turned to run but little rotted hands started pulling me down and then, I was sitting straight up in bed, yelling and pleading.
I really don’t want to go in that building tomorrow.
***
OK, so Matt and I went inside the doorway. No way was I going in the basement. But just the front doorway… well, that wasn’t too bad. I even stuck my head in and looked around inside.
Matt didn’t see it, but I did. There was something huge in the front hall. It wasn’t much more than a silhouette. It looked like a very tall, very thin man in a suit whose neck was all twisted and strange. It came off his chest like a snake’s, turning and curling back on itself, and at the end it had this reptilian face. Everything about the man was hairless and slimy. I could smell the strange stuff on his skin.
But by the time I had gotten Matt’s attention and pointed it out to him, the guy was gone. I don’t know how he disappeared so fast.
Matt was making fun of me as we walked home afterwards, pointing at random alleyways and asking, “Do you see him there, too?” and then laughing. It wasn’t that funny. I’ll prove to him there was someone in there.
***
I convinced Matt to come back with me. I need to see what’s in there. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but I told him an older kid offered to pay $10 for a souvenir from the place, and that I’d split it with him if he went with me. All of this was total crap, of course. But I want to see what was in there, and I definitely want these dreams to stop.
“You know, you’re lucky you have a friend as brave and manly as me,” Matt said, puffing up his little bird-chest. “After what happened to those other schmucks, everyone has been avoiding this place like the plague.”
“Yeah, but unlike all of them, you know it’s just a building,” I said. He gave me a funny look then.
“It’s just a building, but you know something actually happened,” he said. “I was talking to my dad about it, and he said maybe a homeless guy was living there, totally deranged, and maybe he cut out Alicia’s eye and kidnapped her.” He stated this was the seriousness of a news anchor recounting bits of total bullshit for the audience. I smiled at his grave expression, repressing an urge to laugh. He looked over at me disapprovingly. “It could have happened, you know. Homeless people are homeless because they’re crazy. My dad says so. Maybe one of them just went really crazy and started taking souvenirs off of people’s bodies.”
“I guess,” I said. We were most of the way through the old industrial part of town now. Shuttered factories and condemned buildings stretched out on both sides of the street. A fat, limping raccoon walked lazily out of a nearby alleyway. He gave us a sideways glance, stopping for a moment, then kept on maneuvering his round frame forward. Something that Matt had said had given me pause.
“You know,” I said, “it’s kinda weird that we don’t have homeless people out here. We have all these empty buildings, yet most of them camp out on the sidewalks on Main Street. I’ve never seen a single homeless person sleeping in one of these buildings, and I’ve never seen one even close to the Leatherman building. It’s like they have some sort of sixth sense to avoid the place.”
“Clearly they’re smarter than you and me,” Matt muttered. We were walking past the rusty metal chain link fence around the property. He looked pale and his eyes were wide. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Right then, my instincts screamed at me to run.
“Yes,” I said simply, walking in first, taking the flashlight out of my pocket. “I need to know. For sure. Either way, I’d like evidence. Either it is my imagination, or something supernatural actually exists within and around this building.” An old, musty smell permeated the huge hallway. I looked up and down it, wondering what was missing. Then I realized- it had no graffiti. It had to be the only abandoned building I’d ever been in without tons of graffiti scrawled on the inside.
In some places, the walls had begun to buckle, and whole sections were crumbling and coming down. Farther ahead, the ceiling had collapsed inwards, blocking half of the main hallway off. Downstairs, lights started turning on, and the entire building started to come to life. I looked at Matt, who was looking dazed.
“Bro, what the hell is that?” he asked. I had no idea.
“Someone’s in here with us,” I said. “Let’s go check it out.” He looked at me like I was insane.
“Are you mad? What if it’s cops? What if it’s tweakers pulling out all the metal?”
“We’ll be quiet, and just peek around the corner,” I said. “I think we’re meant to see this. Don’t you want to know what’s going on here?” He scowled.
“I’d much rather get home alive,” he said, but he followed me reluctantly. There was a rhythmic hum coming from the floors now, as if machinery were coming to life. A sign, dirty and covered in spiderwebs, pointed to a staircase on the right. I looked down it, seeing bright light flood into the stairwell corridor, despite the fact that there was no electricity running to this building. We started down the staircase to the basement level. There was a smell of ozone in the air, a cyclical rhythmic humming that popped and buzzed. I took a deep breath, wondering what I would see down here. Then I poked my head around the corner.
There were conveyor belts stretching against the basement, their legs embedded into the cracked concrete floors. Beams and pillars ran up from the floor to the ceiling every ten feet or so. And it looked like there were countless workers just sitting on each side of the conveyor belts, sitting in crooked wooden chairs with splintering legs and backs. But it was the workers who caught my attention most of all. They looked… strange.
“Does something look off to you?” I whispered to Matt, who had been standing behind me only a moment earlier. But I got no reply. I figured he was too engrossed in the bizarre nature of what we were seeing to respond.
The workers, if that’s what they were, looked blurred, as if in an overexposed picture with a long shutter speed. Their skin appeared to writhe and crackle, some of their heads constantly turned from side to side, and their limbs… all of them appeared to be missing limbs. I saw pale, white bodies without arms, without legs, even without heads, but they all still continued working in unison, moving in that jerky, blurred way.
“Jesus, Matt, do you see?” I asked suddenly, my eyes widening. “Do you see what they’re doing?” I looked forward in horror as I saw human bodies rolled down the conveyor belts. The people were still alive. They were naked, many of them crying and covered in blood. As they passed by the workers, the blurred hands quickly took pieces of their skin off. Glistening sheets of it were raised by other workers walking along between the lines, and they would give an admiring look at the large pieces of skin, smiling eerily as their heads writhed from side to side and blurred in my vision.
And I saw the kids from my dream, the kids from the missing persons posters, all in the corner. They were huddled, emaciated, with wide, staring eyes. They trembled and cowered as some of the workers came over to grab them and throw them on the belts.
I turned to get the hell out of there, and that was when I realized Matt was no longer behind me. I caught a glimpse of something dark and massive moving at the top of the stairs, disappearing around the corner. I was alone. I know I should have stayed and looked for Matt, but instead, I ran. I got out of that place and went home and hid under my blankets.
I thought 13 was old enough to deal with this, but it has gone way beyond what I thought.
***
Matt’s parents are calling. My parents stand at the bottom of the stairs, my mother holding the landline in her thin hand, my father looking disturbed. They tell me that Matt is missing, that he never came home last night. What should I tell them? Certainly not the truth. If I started talking about the things in that building, I would be forced into a psychiatric ward before the week was up.
The police stopped by and asked me a few questions. I told them all straight-up lies. “No sir, I haven’t seen him, and I have no idea what happened to him.” But what else could I say? That he was taken by something from a nightmare?
I have to go back. I have to try to rescue Matt. I shouldn’t have ran like I did, but seeing those things cutting up people like that… it scared the shit out of me. Tonight, once my parents go to sleep, I’m going to sneak out, and everyone will think I’m a hero if I bring him back. If I don’t, I’ll probably end up as just another stupid missing kid who ended up way over his head.
***
I went back. I made it out, but I think they’re coming for me. There was something in the basement.
All of the conveyor belts were gone, the lights were off, the rhythmic hum had disappeared. It was as if the other night was all a hallucination- except for, of course, Matt is still missing. His parents are freaking out, and I can’t even tell them I know what happened to him, kinda.
Going into the building alone was terrifying. My legs felt like wood, and I kept glancing behind me every second as if I were hearing imaginary pursuers. But I walked through to the staircase, and I saw nothing.
I went down to the basement, peeking my head around the corner. It was just a mostly empty basement, some broken furniture and old boxes stacked in one corner. I shone my light all over and saw no one. But there was a light coming from the far corner, a faint, glowing, orange light. A feeling of dread came over me.
I crept slowly forward, trying to find the source of that light. A faint smell of smoke and roasting meat seemed to creep through the air. Off past the last line of boxes, I saw what looked like a small crater on the floor. There was a hole there with glowing fire underneath. Cracks spiderwebbed out from it in all directions for a few feet. More curious than afraid now, I peered forward and looked down.
Beneath the abandoned building, there was another world. It had fire licking the walls and ground, and in the middle of this inferno, I saw Matt. His face was a map of blackish-purple bruises, his head was cocked at an unnatural angle, and I saw blood pouring out of his ears and nose. He looked up at me, and the bones in his neck grated together. I saw his spine was broken and his entire throat was crushed inwards.
“Help me,” he croaked. “You brought me here, now help me. You can’t leave me. They’ll come for you next…” All around him, I saw hands reaching up- the pale, jerky hands of those strange workers. They grabbed Matt and dragged him back down to the fire. I saw other horrid creatures in the flames, some laughing and insane, others shrieking in agony. Large, black insectile silhouettes moved through the smoke and flames. And then, like one, they started coming up towards the hole, coming up to the building where they would be free.
I ran then, and I never went back. I know now that Matt is dead. I can’t sleep. Every time I look out the window, I see shapes in the front yard- blurred humanoids with missing limbs, hiding in the bushes and trees, and constantly inching closer.

I’m flying into Orly on French Bee on July 19th, arriving 15:35 in Terminal 4. I then fly Air France to Marseille, departing 18:15 from Terminal 3. I have one checked bag. Will that work or is it not enough time?
If it’s a tight squeeze but maybe possible, does anyone know if Air France would just let me on their later flight into Marseille if I missed the 1st flight?

https://wayforward.com/river-city-girls-2-performance-patch/
"[...] Thank you, everyone, for your patience. This update includes over 100 changes and adjustments of various types, and while most of them were things like “an apostrophe was missing here” or “enemies can clip through an object in this room,” here is a non-exhaustive list of some of the key changes that players should be aware of."
Frame Rate/Performance: The animation rate and camera movement have been updated for smoother gameplay on all platforms, effectively displaying at 60 FPS on PlayStation 4 & 5, Xbox, and Steam. Improvements should also be seen on Switch. Performance has been further improved in problematic areas across all platforms, such as Ocean Heights Beach Plaza and the School Auditorium.
New Game+: New Game+ can be replayed again after defeating the final boss in New Game+ mode.
Bug Fixes:

• Provie can now perform air specials and air grabs from aerial light combos.
• Riki’s Guard Break now always dizzies enemies.
• Human Weapon can no longer be used to remove enemies from screenlock battles.
• Player stats now show a full bar when maximized.
• Fixed an issue that could cause the game to freeze if you defeat an enemy while equipped with both Gamer Guide and Bomb Bottom.
• Coach’s Hat now increases the damage dealt by all recruits.
• Fixed issues causing players and enemies to occasionally go out of bounds.
• Updated some Honkr mission tracking for better accuracy
• Fixed an issue causing players to sometimes miss Honks and Quest rewards while transitioning through doors in multiplayer mode.
• The confirm button when hiring Henchmen is now consistent.
• An exploit that allowed players to avoid dying and return with full health has been fixed.
• Game credits have been updated for content and scrolling speed has been updated for better readability.
• Updated text in some of the Japanese motion-comic cutscenes.
• Fixed various issued caused by disconnecting controllers at certain times.
• Fixed various graphical issues causing shadows or other elements to not display properly.
• Various typos have been fixed across all languages.
• Various other minor bug fixes.

Amazon.ca

“Baby, please don’t leave. We can talk this out. It was just a dream, I promise.”
“Jen, you accused me of cheating on you. Even after what happened with my ex, you really thought I was capable of infidelity,” I said, hoisting my bag onto my back.
“Kenny, I’m sorry. How many times do I have to apologize? I was out of line and I shouldn’t have said that. But you have to see it from my point of view. I-”
“Your point of view?! Jen, you woke up today screaming at me and trying to prove that I fucked some imaginary girl. I do see it from your point of view.”
She stared at her feet for a long time. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. When my girlfriend finally glanced up, tears were beginning to spill from her eyes. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in a bear hug and tell her that everything was okay. But it wasn’t. And we both knew that.
“I’m about to leave,” I said, as a pang of guilt stabbed through my chest like a bayonet, “I’ll call you in a couple days when I’ve had a chance to think things over, alright?”
Jen shuffled over and threw her arms around me before I had a chance to protest. I didn’t return the gesture.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll give you your space. I love you, my Ken doll.”
I gazed down at her despondently as she released me from her grip.
“I’ll see you in a few days, Jen. Goodbye.”
Her bottom lip quivered as I slammed the door in her face. Tears clouded my vision as I reversed out of the driveway of our shared apartment. Was I really doing this? Maybe I should just forgive her. I really did love her, after all. No. I needed to do this. And Jen needed to learn that her words carry weight.
I spent the next couple of days at my parents' house. I told them that Jen and I had gotten into it, but I didn’t elaborate. They didn’t pry, sensing that I could use some space. I took some much-needed time to myself to mull things over. I was leaning toward returning home and taking Jen back when I received a call that turned my world upside down.
“Hello? Mrs. Thompson, is everything okay?”
My heart thudded against my ribcage as I heard muffled sniffles on the other end of the line.
“Kenny, it’s Jen. She’s been in an accident. She’s in the ICU. They don’t know if she’s going to make it.”
She burst into hysterics, leaving me to process those devastating words.
“Wha- no, that can’t. I- Which hospital is she at?”
“Methodist.”
“I’m on my way,” I said, adrenaline surging through my veins as I bolted to my car.
I flew down the empty streets, doing well over the speed limit. I felt numb as I drove, praying to any god that would listen for Jen’s recovery. What had I done? My girlfriend meant the world to me and now there was a chance that I could lose her forever without even getting a chance to say goodbye.
I skidded onto a desolate road, nearly to my destination, when my heart stopped. A man in a brown leather jacket stood in the middle of the road. His round-rimmed glasses glinted in my headlights as I slammed on the breaks and swerved. Time felt like it slowed to a crawl. The stranger’s stare followed me as I lost control. My life flashed before my eyes. And then, it was over as quickly as it began.
I suddenly found myself slumped against the steering wheel, blood smearing a deflated airbag. I leaned up, pain immediately searing through my right leg. I screamed in agony as a figure approached my demolished Camaro.
“You really screwed up, man. You should’ve paid me my due.”
I furrowed my brows, racking my brain, but coming up empty.
“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never met you, dude.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.
A torrent of memories began to flood through my brain. He was right. I had met him before. And that filled me with a kind of primal fear that I hope I never experience again.
“Wayne.”
“That’s right,” he said, “real shame that you couldn’t control yourself around that little brunette from work. I cleaned up your mess. Now it’s time to pay the piper.”
“It was one stupid mistake. Look, Jen is in the hospital. I really need to go. I’ll pay you later, just please let me see her,” I sobbed, tears spilling down my face. He pondered for a moment.
“Okay. I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll make all of this go away, again, then you and your little girlfriend can live happily ever after. But you have to give me what I want. Right here, right now.”
“Well, what do you want?”
A nauseating smile inched its way across his lips as dread seeped into my heart. I swore that for a second, I glimpsed a forked tongue slither between his teeth. What he said next sent abject hopelessness sinking into my stomach like a stone.
“I want your soul.”
***
I awoke in a familiar room. A girl lay beside me, facing the wall. I’d recognize that petite frame and those platinum blonde highlights anywhere. It was Jen. She was okay. Pure unabated contentment flooded through me. Until I remembered my conversation with Wayne. I have a feeling that I won’t be getting any more second chances. As I lay here, holding the love of my life, I can only hope that I’ve made the right decision.
XX

• About me
I am 14 years old. (15 soon and I'm still going through puberty.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And my height is: 4'9-5'0.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
• I'm British, I also don't smoke, or drink anything.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
• No meds, or therapists etc.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
• I'm pale, and have a bad diet. (Eating like rubbish) • and i never go outside. (i'm pale.) • and my sleep routine is horrible.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So basically, my dad died back in 2019. From lung cancer. I was 10 at the time, and I already knew he was gonna. You know. And after he died. I couldn't really believe it? but the grief didn't click in, until September / November, of 2019. But then at the time, I started going through really stressful, things like, bullying. Name-calling. Harassment. (These had happened online. I know it may not seem like such a big deal but it ruined my self-confidence, and mental health.) And it got worse in 2020, because I got abused online as well And my mental health, got worse to the point where I had urges to kill / harm myself, (I hardly have them anymore, which I'm glad about.) Family issues? Stressing, and constant crying
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(The reasons why I'm saying this, is because it could explain why I'm dealing with the stuff I'm about to put down.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December, 8th, 2020, was the time I got sick.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was in my stomach, and I though "oh I'm just sick it will pass", but it just got worse. And it would keep, growling, and I lost my appetite fully and didn't even wanna eat. But the thing I realised was that I was stressed / worried about it. Because I though it was stomach cancer. (Still do.) And it would make me feel like I was gonna throw up,
And in 2021. I still had. It. No appetite still, no nothing. Just feeling sick. But I still ate, and drank everyday. But online stuff happened again. (Which I think made it worse? I don't know. And my mental health worse.) But then I started thinking my stomach was gonna collapse. And I started worrying more about it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And in this year, same stuff. With my stomach. But in April 2022. I had a panic attack? I also had left arm aches / pains. So basically went downstairs, and told my mum about it. And we started talking, about stuff. And i stood up from the chair, and then all sudden, my head started feeling SUPER weird. And I said "mum my head feels weird!" And she said "your probably having a panic attack." And then i started panicking, and said "mum, mum I think I'm dying!!" And I went down on to the kitchen floor.and my brother said "your fine." And my mum said "this is because of your dad." And then she went to open the door for me to get air. And I still felt weird. And my hands were shaking. (I can't remember but I think my mouth /lips was dry.) But the thing is I felt like I was forcing the shaking. Because I was making myself shake (but again I probably wasn't. I did not do it for attention, I know that would of been bad. etc I was seriously scared, that I was gonna die in front of my mum and brother.) . But when I stopped my body felt like nothing. And my breathing was a bit weird a swell. And my mum was trying to talk me out of it. And then a few minutes later, I went to stand up, and go upstairs, but my whole body, and legs felt weird. Very weird. But then I felt the whole night, watching tiktok to distract myself. But then next day, my mum told my older brother that I was having panic attacks. That same day, I felt like I was freak, out and call an ambulance, because I felt like I was going to die. And I was worrying about my health. (Still do.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OLD SYMPTOMS.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- • and i am also getting forgetfulness.
• feeling like something is in my throat for a few minutes, • and feeling sweaty,(doesn't last long.) when i panic over something. • stuttering. • headaches. • weird head feelings. • and weird feeling slightly under my stomach by my hips. • dry mouth / lips sometimes. • and feeling like i will gag? on my foods / drinks. • no appetite. • stomach growling. • constantly seeking reassurance. • heart fluttering, and dropping. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
MY NEW SYMPTOMS THIS YEAR.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- • stomach growling, even tho im not hungry. and it makes me have a sick feeling. (Still have.) • feeling a fuzzy feeling at the side of my face. (It feels like he fuzzy ealing you get in your hands sometimes.) • still no appetite. • constantly feeling strange. (Like I might die, or something will happen inside my body and ill die.) • forgetfulness. (Still have.) • hair falling out, slightly. (Just smallish.) • weird cold chills at my back and arms. (The slight weird cold chill you get when you're sick, or something.) • constantly seeking reassurance. • weird breathing. (Like when you walk around and your breathing gets heavy in a way.) • my heart sometimes making a dropping feeling, and it beats again. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And my symptoms kept changing.
And now this year, my symptoms have changed like they have been.
but my stomach still keeps growling for no reason I lost my appetite, 2-3 years ago when this started, but I feel weird, like very weird like the weird feelings you get when you feel like you're about to end up in a hospital? I can't explain my weird feelings, and I feel like I can't think straight? But I can? But I keep looming at things without blinking for a few seconds and my face was just been blank? In a way, and I'm getting weird fuzzy feelings at the side of my face. and I'm scared I'm dying, or it's an illness. But the weird feelings do go away, but they come back after a few hours, or minutes, I know I need therapy, and help but the waiting lists. I'm trying to learn to cope with it. Because I know it won't go away just by ignoring it, and I know as much as I'm worried for my health know I been through a lot of stress, etc and now I been going puberty for a couple years.Anxiety feels like a nightmare, and I hate it. I wish I could stop feeling constantly weird, and strange etc. It's a very very weird and strange feeling and it's odd. I can't explain anything.
But I can't keep letting it get the best of me because I will just need to learn, to accept it as much as its hard to. I'll just accept it and I'll keep telling my mum for therapy or even see a doctor It's terrifying but i know I can get through this oll run around my house etc etc etc for distractions etc until I can get a therapist which I know will take long, but I hope I won't be like this forever and ever.
And I also have a white patch on my tongue it kinds looks like milk? And sometimes I feel a very weird weird feeling that something will happen? And most times I breathe I feel something in my throat lime its my heart beat? Or if my heart skips a beat or something when I breathe sometimes?
But also a good thing is, is that I can drink and eat fine, and I'm not in any bad pains at all, I just physically feel weird, and I can't explain the feelings. But when I sleep, I wake up In the middle of the night for no reason, so that might be from stress.
Does anybody else experience or know what I mean? I don't know why I keep worrying about my health I constantly seek reassurance and it kinda makes me feel a attention seeker.but i also have this weird cold feeling at my back (the cold feeling you get when you're sick?) but i have it at my back, and i don't have a lot of symptoms of anxiety and it's scaring me. are people different with anxiety and stress? do they have different things with it? because i know everybody is different but i'm still scared.
has anybody else had this? i feel like i'm the only person. i think i actually have a illness or something i just feel sick and strange constantly. but i'm planning on getting stress/anxiety gummies i'm terrified.
and i'm thinking about therapy? but i just wanna take small steps for starters.
and i also never see anybody with this same thing as me so i'm scared.
and my hear also makes a drop feeling, even when my heart isn't racing etc it happens out of nowhere, and it's weird, and when i breathed in, i like felt it in my throat? and i just feel awful, and weird constantly, it sucks. it really does suck. i just feel like i'm gonna die or if i have some type of serious/deadly illness etc, i just want it to stop. i don't even have a clue if this is normal or not. i just hope others have, had the same things/thing has me. it sucks i feel alone. it feels like something is wrong inside my body and i can't explain it i'm so sick of it. i feel like i'm about to die any second.okay my body just did something weird and i think my body just bought something up into my throat? i can't explain it i'm scared. am i okay?
I'm sorry if I'm bothering anybody, I know others have more serious problems but I'm just scared.
should i change my diet, and sleep routine? and get anxiety/stress gummies from amazon? (they probably won't work but i wanna take small steps.)
And I think all this has something, to do with my stomach. Because my stomach was the first thing that felt sick back in december 8th 2020, so I don't understand. Is my stomach okay? And it also feels like my body might bring something up or something? I don't understand why did this happen, so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?
But even if I am like this I can still• eat, and drink fine. (Sometimes feel like I might throw up but yeah, I can eat and drink. But i also have a bad diet, and i eat and drink horribly.)• I can still go bathroom, just fine. (Never really any problems with that.)• I can still sleep fine. (But I do wake up around 1-2 times. Which is probably stress, but my sleep routine is also horrible.)▪︎ I can also, walk around fine even tho my legs and body still feel sick, and weird etc.So I don't understand what's going on? Why am I getting these weird physical symptoms? Because I don't know if it is anxiety, or is just from stress or some kind, of trauma? I don't know but I feel like this could also be because of my dad dying.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things that maybe caused this:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- • But maybe it's because, I'm to stressed out? • Maybe I have low blood sugar from not eating and drinking well? • maybe because I'm on the Internet 24/7 and I never go outside, and I'm pale? • maybe I'm not healthy. And I'm not drinking or eating healthy the way I should? • maybe it's because I'm still going through puberty? • maybe because of the online bullying? Or my dad's death? • maybe my bad sleep routine? • constant stressing? • maybe trauma? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And I know I'm not the only one. I'm just scared incase I was because I didn't wanna suffer with it alone. If it makes sense But I realozes when I'm calmed down or something, and then I don't feel sick? But still feel a bit strange? I'm fearing that I might have a stroke due to the fuzzy feeling at the side of my face, or I'm having a medical problem etc but I'm trying to stay strong. Even tho it's hard and it feels like a nightmare.
And I don't have any medical problems at all, I've always been healthy, so I don't understand why this suddenly happens.

Hello everyone, so I have an unusual problem (I’m not an electrician so I think it’s unusual). I have 4 outlets in my room, 3 of which I use the most. The 2 that are nearest to my bed have items plugged in all the time and the one near my door is used occasionally. Now, a couple nights ago, I noticed that my outlet where I plug my phone charger and my sound machine, and the one I have an air freshener plugged into seemed to have stopped working. I checked the circuit breaker for any tripped circuits…nothing, I flicked it off and on again, nothing…so I gave up. I decided to then plug in a charging cord for one of my devices and it worked, so great. But I had also still had my phone charger connected to the outlet by my bed, and as soon as I plugged in the other device in the outlet by my door, my phone made the noise telling me it was starting to charge. Weird…okay? So, come last night, I’m about to get ready for bed, and turned on my noise machine and plugged in my phone, working fine. I go to unplug the charger I had plugged into the outlet by my door and suddenly…my phone stopped charging and my noise machine turned off….what the heck??? I had a theory and decided to plug the charger back into the outlet, and suddenly the other outlet started working and my phone was charging again….
What’s going on? How do I fix it? Can I do it myself? Or do I need a professional? This building is not even a year old yet and there’s been a lot of issues needing to be repaired or replaced… why is this happening?
TIA ☺️

• About me
I am 14 years old. (15 soon and I'm still going through puberty.)
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
And my height is: 4'9-5'0.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
• I'm British, I also don't smoke, or drink anything.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
• No meds, or therapists etc.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
• I'm pale, and have a bad diet. (Eating like rubbish) • and i never go outside. (i'm pale.) • and my sleep routine is horrible.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
So basically, my dad died back in 2019. From lung cancer. I was 10 at the time, and I already knew he was gonna. You know. And after he died. I couldn't really believe it? but the grief didn't click in, until September / November, of 2019. But then at the time, I started going through really stressful, things like, bullying. Name-calling. Harassment. (These had happened online. I know it may not seem like such a big deal but it ruined my self-confidence, and mental health.) And it got worse in 2020, because I got abused online as well And my mental health, got worse to the point where I had urges to kill / harm myself, (I hardly have them anymore, which I'm glad about.) Family issues? Stressing, and constant crying
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
(The reasons why I'm saying this, is because it could explain why I'm dealing with the stuff I'm about to put down.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
December, 8th, 2020, was the time I got sick.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
It was in my stomach, and I though "oh I'm just sick it will pass", but it just got worse. And it would keep, growling, and I lost my appetite fully and didn't even wanna eat. But the thing I realised was that I was stressed / worried about it. Because I though it was stomach cancer. (Still do.) And it would make me feel like I was gonna throw up,
​
And in 2021. I still had. It. No appetite still, no nothing. Just feeling sick. But I still ate, and drank everyday. But online stuff happened again. (Which I think made it worse? I don't know. And my mental health worse.) But then I started thinking my stomach was gonna collapse. And I started worrying more about it.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
And in this year, same stuff. With my stomach. But in April 2022. I had a panic attack? I also had left arm aches / pains. So basically went downstairs, and told my mum about it. And we started talking, about stuff. And i stood up from the chair, and then all sudden, my head started feeling SUPER weird. And I said "mum my head feels weird!" And she said "your probably having a panic attack." And then i started panicking, and said "mum, mum I think I'm dying!!" And I went down on to the kitchen floor.and my brother said "your fine." And my mum said "this is because of your dad." And then she went to open the door for me to get air. And I still felt weird. And my hands were shaking. (I can't remember but I think my mouth /lips was dry.) But the thing is I felt like I was forcing the shaking. Because I was making myself shake (but again I probably wasn't. I did not do it for attention, I know that would of been bad. etc I was seriously scared, that I was gonna die in front of my mum and brother.) . But when I stopped my body felt like nothing. And my breathing was a bit weird a swell. And my mum was trying to talk me out of it. And then a few minutes later, I went to stand up, and go upstairs, but my whole body, and legs felt weird. Very weird. But then I felt the whole night, watching tiktok to distract myself. But then next day, my mum told my older brother that I was having panic attacks. That same day, I felt like I was freak, out and call an ambulance, because I felt like I was going to die. And I was worrying about my health. (Still do.)
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
OLD SYMPTOMS.
​
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- • and i am also getting forgetfulness.
• feeling like something is in my throat for a few minutes,
• and feeling sweaty,(doesn't last long.) when i panic over something.
• stuttering.
• headaches.
• weird head feelings.
• and weird feeling slightly under my stomach by my hips.
• dry mouth / lips sometimes.
• and feeling like i will gag? on my foods / drinks.
• no appetite.
• stomach growling.
• constantly seeking reassurance.
• heart fluttering, and dropping. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
​
MY NEW SYMPTOMS THIS YEAR.
​
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
• stomach growling, even tho im not hungry. and it makes me have a sick feeling. (Still have.)
• feeling a fuzzy feeling at the side of my face. (It feels like he fuzzy ealing you get in your hands sometimes.)
• still no appetite.
• constantly feeling strange. (Like I might die, or something will happen inside my body and ill die.)
• forgetfulness. (Still have.)
• hair falling out, slightly. (Just smallish.)
• weird cold chills at my back and arms. (The slight weird cold chill you get when you're sick, or something.)
• constantly seeking reassurance.
• weird breathing. (Like when you walk around and your breathing gets heavy in a way.)
• my heart sometimes making a dropping feeling, and it beats again. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
And my symptoms kept changing.
​
And now this year, my symptoms have changed like they have been.
​
but my stomach still keeps growling for no reason I lost my appetite, 2-3 years ago when this started, but I feel weird, like very weird like the weird feelings you get when you feel like you're about to end up in a hospital? I can't explain my weird feelings, and I feel like I can't think straight? But I can? But I keep looming at things without blinking for a few seconds and my face was just been blank? In a way, and I'm getting weird fuzzy feelings at the side of my face. and I'm scared I'm dying, or it's an illness. But the weird feelings do go away, but they come back after a few hours, or minutes, I know I need therapy, and help but the waiting lists. I'm trying to learn to cope with it. Because I know it won't go away just by ignoring it, and I know as much as I'm worried for my health know I been through a lot of stress, etc and now I been going puberty for a couple years.Anxiety feels like a nightmare, and I hate it. I wish I could stop feeling constantly weird, and strange etc. It's a very very weird and strange feeling and it's odd. I can't explain anything.
​
But I can't keep letting it get the best of me because I will just need to learn, to accept it as much as its hard to. I'll just accept it and I'll keep telling my mum for therapy or even see a doctor It's terrifying but i know I can get through this oll run around my house etc etc etc for distractions etc until I can get a therapist which I know will take long, but I hope I won't be like this forever and ever.
​
And I also have a white patch on my tongue it kinds looks like milk? And sometimes I feel a very weird weird feeling that something will happen? And most times I breathe I feel something in my throat lime its my heart beat? Or if my heart skips a beat or something when I breathe sometimes?
​
But also a good thing is, is that I can drink and eat fine, and I'm not in any bad pains at all, I just physically feel weird, and I can't explain the feelings. But when I sleep, I wake up In the middle of the night for no reason, so that might be from stress.
​
Does anybody else experience or know what I mean? I don't know why I keep worrying about my health I constantly seek reassurance and it kinda makes me feel a attention seeker.but i also have this weird cold feeling at my back (the cold feeling you get when you're sick?) but i have it at my back, and i don't have a lot of symptoms of anxiety and it's scaring me. are people different with anxiety and stress? do they have different things with it? because i know everybody is different but i'm still scared.
​
has anybody else had this? i feel like i'm the only person. i think i actually have a illness or something i just feel sick and strange constantly. but i'm planning on getting stress/anxiety gummies i'm terrified.
​
and i'm thinking about therapy? but i just wanna take small steps for starters.
​
and i also never see anybody with this same thing as me so i'm scared.
​
and my hear also makes a drop feeling, even when my heart isn't racing etc it happens out of nowhere, and it's weird, and when i breathed in, i like felt it in my throat? and i just feel awful, and weird constantly, it sucks. it really does suck. i just feel like i'm gonna die or if i have some type of serious/deadly illness etc, i just want it to stop. i don't even have a clue if this is normal or not. i just hope others have, had the same things/thing has me. it sucks i feel alone. it feels like something is wrong inside my body and i can't explain it i'm so sick of it. i feel like i'm about to die any second.okay my body just did something weird and i think my body just bought something up into my throat? i can't explain it i'm scared. am i okay?
​
I'm sorry if I'm bothering anybody, I know others have more serious problems but I'm just scared.
​
should i change my diet, and sleep routine? and get anxiety/stress gummies from amazon? (they probably won't work but i wanna take small steps.)
​
And I think all this has something, to do with my stomach. Because my stomach was the first thing that felt sick back in december 8th 2020, so I don't understand. Is my stomach okay? And it also feels like my body might bring something up or something? I don't understand why did this happen, so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?
​
But even if I am like this I can still• eat, and drink fine. (Sometimes feel like I might throw up but yeah, I can eat and drink. But i also have a bad diet, and i eat and drink horribly.)• I can still go bathroom, just fine. (Never really any problems with that.)• I can still sleep fine. (But I do wake up around 1-2 times. Which is probably stress, but my sleep routine is also horrible.)▪︎ I can also, walk around fine even tho my legs and body still feel sick, and weird etc.So I don't understand what's going on? Why am I getting these weird physical symptoms? Because I don't know if it is anxiety, or is just from stress or some kind, of trauma? I don't know but I feel like this could also be because of my dad dying.
​
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
Things that maybe caused this:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- • But maybe it's because, I'm to stressed out?
• Maybe I have low blood sugar from not eating and drinking well?
• maybe because I'm on the Internet 24/7 and I never go outside, and I'm pale?
• maybe I'm not healthy. And I'm not drinking or eating healthy the way I should?
• maybe it's because I'm still going through puberty?
• maybe because of the online bullying? Or my dad's death?
• maybe my bad sleep routine?
• constant stressing?
• maybe trauma? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​
And I know I'm not the only one. I'm just scared incase I was because I didn't wanna suffer with it alone. If it makes sense But I realozes when I'm calmed down or something, and then I don't feel sick? But still feel a bit strange? I'm fearing that I might have a stroke due to the fuzzy feeling at the side of my face, or I'm having a medical problem etc but I'm trying to stay strong. Even tho it's hard and it feels like a nightmare.
​
And I don't have any medical problems at all, I've always been healthy, so I don't understand why this suddenly happens.

We had our oven cleaned 2 days ago by a company, and we tried using it that evening, but it blew the electrics. We have since left the door open, used a fan on it to dry it out etc, but it’s still not working. I asked the company if they had pulled anything out which could have caused the issue but they have said no. They suggested to contact an electrician which seems like they have no intention of helping to fix this if it doesn’t resolve. If we do need an electrician, can we charge the cost to the company or will we have to pay? This is the first time the oven has tripped in 5 years, and highly doubt it is a coincidence that it is tripping now.

[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
Season 5 “Exotic Pets”
Episode 1 “The Night's Weave”
In any other professional setting, doing what he was currently doing would be considered highly unprofessional. In fact, even in any other precinct what he was doing right now would be very unprofessional. Usually, walking through the front door with your boss clinging to your arm like a swooning teenager would generally be interpreted only one way.
Thankfully, nobody specifically cared about this in this precinct, nor did they come to the obvious conclusion “Thank you, I’ll finish recovering in the break room” she says, with a trembling voice.
“You sure you don’t want me there?” admittedly, playing this role wasn’t really professional either for him but everyone understood the need of it.
“Yes” Keya lets go of Santos’ arm “I’ll just do the thing and drink something cold, then I can start this waking properly” she gently taps her tail on his shoulder “Now go get to work”
He sighs as he walks back to his desk. They had a wonderful two days with nothing happening after the short little session of everything happening, it was unsurprising that she’d start processing things through her nightmares now, leading those being screaming days. “‘least it isn’t the cold bastard yet” he mutters as he sits down.
And so here he planned to spend the rest of his work day getting mighty annoyed at their Regional Firebase. That damned place was in charge of both the fiscal, maitenance and archivistic functions for all the precincts in this area, not only they held the pursestrings of the operation they were also the ones in charge of maintaining equipment, assigning personnel and keeping all the information they needed to work up to date. And they seemed to hate him. Him, specifically, because the problems only started happening when he got here.
Of course he wasn’t just getting annoyed at the Regional for no reason, he was getting annoyed at them for their sheer incompetence, and he hoped it was incompetence, at keeping up data. He’d been hunting down any information about some old unsolved cases, and he’d been getting more luck with random phone calls to other precincts halfway across the planet than an official request to his own Regional.
Sadly, not every plan survives contact with the work day. After some time he feels a presence nearby and turns to look, there is Keya looking mostly like her normal self, except perhaps more tired than normal. She brings her holopad down to put it against his, transferring mission data “Nothing serious, or at least nothing dangerous. But we really should take this call”
He looks down at his device and calls up the mission data he’s just received. Predator sighting near… Orran’s house? Bit too close for comfort, real sightings are usually at the farms, but scarcely any information. Just something small and quadrupedal is the useful information, the rest is just usual ‘predator’ panic speech. “This looks like a ghost call, but sure I’ll go” he stands up and starts heading towards the garage, but stops and turns around “Stay here boss, no need to-”
“Yes there is, don’t worry about me” Keya takes a deep breath “I’m not at full capacity but i’m fine, let’s go” she walks past him.
With a shrug, he follows. As they settle in the car and Keya starts driving, he picks up his holopad to re-read the mission data. Nothing, obviously, has changed but he gives it more attention now. Small quadruped, fast, like a shadow… If there were any other humans here he’d believe it was someone’s pet cat, but without anyone dumb enough to bring an exotic animal to an alien planet in sight that’s unlikely. Sadly, none of the usual trash-diggers quite match either.
But there’s one final detail that’s weird. This… Isn’t the first call. There’s been a lot more calls related to this one, an entire fifty eight different calls all tied to this same incident report. He starts following links to the previous calls and checking them- All of them are the same incident, small quadruped, fast and like a shadow… And they were all marked as minimal priority, and left forgotten and unattended.
With a raised eyebrow he continues to check, seeing the dates of the reports. They were insistent, and have been going on for a while now. They’re not older than his presence here, but aside from them having stopped completely for the previous five days, those calls have been a daily occurrence. And each and every one of them was set to minimum priority by Keya herself, and promptly forgotten. Which indicated there had to be something going on here, because she’d never leave a call forgotten like this, at least not when she woke up screaming.
“Boss-” but before he can say anything, they’ve arrived. A considerably different house than the rest of the residences of the town, Orran had been living here long enough to have completely rebuilt his house in the style of his people, or at least the exterior and a few additions. It was weirdly tall for his size despite being only one floor, the exterior was coated with a material that looked like an earthen-brown daub but the evenness of the striations in the material showed an artistic care in its application beyond the means of manual work. The windows were higher in the walls than in a normal venlil residence and they seemed to have multiple layers, both glass and wood were used in their construction with the final layer being some form of metal.
“Huhn, I wonder if the weather on his homeworld is that wild?” he says, staring at the windows. He’s familiar with that kind of design, it could easily be used to control airflow to various degrees and help regulate temperature. But this entire getup seemed like overkill to him, unless wherever this was used had the breadth of half of Earth’s weather happening in the same area.
“Only about where I lived” Orran’s voice echoes from behind the door, which consists of a mesh door behind a wooden door. The yotul opens them and offers him an ear flick “Nightmare weather that place, used to have a flood gate in the house too. Only good thing the feds to that town was deepening the river to handle the summer floodwaters”
Santos blinks, looks at the agriculturalist, looks back at the car where Keya still is, then back at the yotul “Dang, have I been just staring here for long? I got kind of distracted, haven’t ever actually stopped by to watch your house before”
“Oh, feel free to take it in. Took some effort to get the wattle and daub look just right, not really helping the primitive stereotype much” he says with a joyful wave of his tail “But what can I say, I’m wild nations, feds ain’t the first to call me primitive and i’m still proud of it. Still, to what do I owe the honor?”
He tilts his head to the side slightly, taking in the man’s words for a moment. They made a distressing amount of sense, guess the Yotul would still remember those parts of their own history. But he was here for a job “Yeah, we got a sighting report around here” he picks up his holopad and brings it up “In fact a report in your residence. Do you mind if I look around real quick?”
He notices Orran’s tail stilling “Hrm? I can say I haven’t seen anything, and I live here”
Taking a deep breath Santos stares at the yotul, he knows the flinch isn’t an instinctive reaction “Orran. A few paws ago you didn’t notice the nixa’s claw marks in your kitchen. And this call came in today” then he turns his stare to the side with a sigh “I just want to make sure there’s nothing, alright?”
He can see in his periphery the man going through a wild set of conflicting emotions, only to settle into a defeated expression “Alright… Just, I was uhn… Canning some food. Can you at least spare my dignity somewhat and let me clean up?”
“Sure man, it’s not urgent” he shrugs. As Orran heads back inside he looks back at the car, where Keya is still sitting. Then he looks back at Orran’s door. Something isn’t adding up, and that something is his boss’ behavior.
There is some noise from inside for a while until Orran returns “Alright, got my machinery packed, c’mon in” he mentions before waving him in.
There’s a certain aesthetic clash heading inside, it’s visible that Orran had put in effort into adding in the colors and signs of his people into a venlil residence, but the apparent lack of capacity (or funds) to really change the foundations of it meant a lot of the structure was still that of a normal venlil home.
Still, the walls had been decorated to look like they’re made of wooden planks on the inside with the actual materials only visible near things such as power sockets. The living room itself was decorated in a lightly distressing manner with effectively a circle of couches on slightly raised platforms around a central table, the television has been set up on it with a pivoting base. It looked like someone had repurposed a firepit, or rather the entire setup was designed to evoke the look of a firepit.
There was what looked like, initially, a cloth hanger near the door, but on second look what it really held was a very long string of beads- The way they were strung around it made him imagine Orran wearing those very much like a scarf which also bound around his wrists.
On the wall in the far end was something that looked like a banner, though it was best described as an unframed painting with a tougher canvas. It depicted a distant view of a town in some sandy plateau, the center of the picture was bright and colorful and clearly in the morning but at the sides one could see two long-tailed animals making their way to the center where the town resides, behind them the image was dark and stars could be seen in the sky. The way the nighttime emanated from the creatures it seemed more like they were dragging the curtains of night with their tails. Shaking his head, Santos forces himself to stop ogling Orran’s things and starts looking around.
He wasn’t, sincerely, being serious about this. But not only was this whole song and dance a necessity, but his earlier words WERE true. Just had to check for obvious signs of dangerous things. So a quick cursory glance under the couches, a short moment in the kitchen whose fridge’s scratches still weren’t repaired- Santos stops for a second more staring at the scratch marks on the fridge. He looks at Orran who’s following him, who looks confused. No, this man was not that stupid, he trusted him enough.
Still, that meant he’d have to pay more attention now. Respectfully, without actually touching anything, he continues a visual inspection towards the other side of the house. A short corridor with the doors to the bedroom and bathroom. He passes by the bedroom and stops in front of the closed bathroom door. He sighs and kneels down in front of it.
“What is it?” Orran says behind him
What is it, is that he had heard something “Just… Let me check…” he gently taps the door. And he hears the noise again, light scratching. It stops for a moment, and then he taps the door again, causing them to start for a moment again. He looks back to the frozen yotul, who was apparently actually that stupid “Set ‘em loose if you would?”
Orran doesn’t respond, he just stays there “Look, man. At the very least trust in the fact I’m a human? Not a fan of using my species as a bargaining tool but I think it’s actually relevant here?” Santos stands up again and starts heading to the living room.
He waits patiently for a while, until Orran finally arrives. A small little beast threads through his feet as he walks, not unlike a cat that is doing their best to get kicked, it is indeed a small quadruped with great agility, not only that it has a distinctive striped dark blue coat that is so deep it could be mistaken for black as well as a tail about as long as it’s torso. It’s not a beast Santos recognizes, other than from the painting in the wall, so at least he can’t blame his own kind for this problem. He looks up and sees Orran has another one in his arms, this one looking much more calm and gentle.
Santos rubs his eyes “Really, Orran? You, of all people” he sighs “Come on, not to be racist here but I’d expect a yotul, no, a yotul ecologist to know better.” he waves at the man’s beasts “Did you really bring exotic pets to another planet?! No, not another country, another planet?” he sighs “What even are those?”
“Nightweaver hensa” says a soft voice from behind him, he turns around to see that Keya had finally arrived “An endangered species native to Leirn, called like that after a legend that they were the ones who’d drag the veil of night over the scorching sun” she sounds mostly like herself, but he can feel a flatness creeping up in her delivery.
Santos stares at her for a moment, looks back at Orran with a piercing stare, then slowly lowers his eyes to the hensa he’s carrying “Endangered animals? Are you-” but a light sound draws his attention back to Keya. She simply taps a place in her chest, the motion confuses him for a moment until he looks down at himself. Where she tapped is exactly where the insignia of the exterminator’s guild is in his uniform. He starts exhaling air slowly as he sits down on a couch “Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me.”
He looks at Orran protectively holding his pet, looking terrified. The first time he’s seen the man look afraid. He looks down, and notices one of the two hensa had walked up to him. He notices in his periphery Orran flinches when he offers his hand for the feline-like to sniff “Plausible deniability” he says.
When nobody else says anything, he continues “I thought it was weird she made me get inside on my own before her. I am, of course, human. Some things are expected out of us, I’m sure a big fuss is expected out of me over a pet” when the alien feline seems confident enough, it gives his finger a gentle nip and puts its entire head on his hand “So just in case we don’t have any protocol about how to deal with this situation, she can pretend whatever happens is because of me”
He gently caresses the little beast “I thought it was weird you had personally deprioritized fifty eight calls” the tone is not quite accusatory
“He quite clearly had them under control, there was no need to do anything about it” Keya says as if it was the most normal thing
“Why now?”
Keya gently sways her tail “I got tired of it. After the last few paws I don’t think I have the energy to deal with this anymore” it made sense, he knew she had a limit to her emotional energy.
Orran slowly tilts his head to look at Keya “Wait… You’ve known about them?”
She gives him an affirmative ear flick “I even know they’re Nightweavers. They were already an endangered breed before your first contact, for all I know they’re the last two living Nightweavers”
At that, Santos focuses on the one that Orran is holding… Something about it… It’s a she “A breeding pair” this causes the yotul to snap his focus on him “You brought a breeding pair. It would be bad enough if they were just pets, maybe they’d be neutered and the worst damage they’d do would be for however long those fluffball live, but you’re looking at increasing the population”
He sighs “Orran… You know this will cause a disaster, don’t you? Do I need to tell you about the extinction level events that were every goddamn invasive species on Earth? Do I need to tell you the number of species gone extinct because of our cats?” he takes a deep breath “Actually, no, I don’t think I need to. You don’t actually care, do you?” he continues to gently caress the overly-affectionate little feline that at this point had jumped on his lap and burrowed itself under his shirt “Not only you don’t care… Any collateral you cause is probably just rightful vengeance for you is it?”
“It’s not like that!” the yotul shouts “I… I was breeder back home, okay? I wasn’t a farmer, I was a hensa breeder” he thumps his tail on the ground in anger “You weren’t there… You weren’t there to watch what they did to my… When I had a chance to run away and… And save some of them. I just grabbed who I could and just ran.” he holds the pregnant female a little bit tighter “I wasn’t planning on… Anything. I wasn’t planning, I wasn’t thinking… I… I wound up here, eventually…”
Santos brings down his other hand to scratch the little alien kitten. He takes a moment to just take in the little beast, whatever ecological niche it filled had to be infinitely similar to that of cats to be so similar yet so different. The tail movements were so different, a lot more energetic, a lot more in general, made sense since their owners had tails too, they probably could read each other much better. And it seemed to enjoy getting squished for some reason, he wondered why. He had all of those wonders and thoughts while he tried to not think about what he’d have to do.
Those hensa couldn’t stay here. Maybe, a very wild maybe, if they were neutered they could. But those were pretty much for breeding and of a particularly endangered kind as well, so that was out of the picture. Of course, those two space felines would also need to be cared for, they were an endangered species so that was non-negotiable. The UN had some measures for dealing with terran animals in this planet, from relocation to shelters to even a few approved areas they could live in, but they only dealt in terran animals not leirnian animals.
At this point his thoughts are interrupted by Keya’s voice “I don’t care who, anyone that can help is enough” he looks up at her, she has her holopad firmly clenched in her hands and her right eye focused directly on it.
She’s on a call.
---
And here we have it, we meet the two little disasters-to-be while the precinct chief throws their human into the fire as a possible scapegoat for any possible crazy plan they might have to resort to. And in fact, said crazy plan seems to involve a desperate plea over the phone.
Also, I had a bit of fun trying to thinking what Orran's house might be like, and somewhere along the line I got this weird thought: They're certainly not innocent of or about colonialism, so wouldn't the displaced natives of their own world at least feel a tiny bit of vindication watching their own conquerors get conquered in turn? Doesn't make things better but the irony of it all must be sweet.
Edit: FFS. Reddit, LET ME EDIT TITLES

Hi reddit, apologies as this is my 1st time posting. I (mid 20s f) married a male (mid 50s m) who is the eldest in the family. In my culture, the eldest son is expected to take care of their old parents. I knew this day would come when we have to care for them and I'm all for it. But what I didn't expect is having to move into their house and having to adapt to their very, very different life style. Emphasist on different. Here are some examples:

1. No fresh air in or out of the house as all doors and windows must be locked - For fear of the in house cats would escape.
   
2. The cat sleeps, eats, pees and poops in the kitchen where they cook their food. The cat sleeps in one of the old cooking pots 1 feet away from where food is cooked.
   
3. Cats go into the kitchen at 7 pm. That means after 7 pm, I can't cook if I want to eat. Means that I have to always order out or eat earlier. In my culture, we have dinner at 8pm+. But since FIL is from a British boarding school, he is strict on timing i.e. dinner is at 7.30 pm max.
   
4. They won't throw away or donate anything. Books, clothing, old shelves, junk etc. The house is small so the big wooden furnitures take up a lot of space. I am currently renting a very nice 3 bedroom apartment which makes you feel like you are stepping into a hotel, with great view, fresh air and my own space for my plants. But in this smal housel, I'm now confined to a very very small room, sharing a bathroom with them. This is where I sleep and work (I work remotely).
   

My husband is suggesting that I keep paying my rental and then get another one near the in laws' house (different states). But I'm the only one working and he is on his retirement money. I can afford it but will leave me with little savings monthly.
Help I don't know what to do. My mental health is deteriorating fast because of this. I cry and get depressed when I have to come back to this house. I also don't want this to wreck my otherwise great marriage. I'm lost here!

I parked in the tower's lot, letting my headlights bore into the amalgam of twisted metal and glass for a few moments before shutting them off.
Josh muttered, his voice low. "We're really doing this, huh?"
He ran a hand through his mop of curly hair— a dumb tic he developed last summer when his girlfriend, Annabeth, told him it was sexy. She was beside him now, cuddled up in the backseat across his lap.
I glanced at my own girlfriend, Ellie, in the passenger seat. She was trying her damndest to appear brave, but I knew better. There was no way she was comfortable with trespassing tonight.
I sighed, realizing that Josh would also chicken out.
"We're doing this? You sure you want to come?" I prodded.
Josh shifted in his seat, hand running through his hair yet again. "Maybe it's better if I stay in the truck.”
Annabeth shrugged next to him, unsurprised.
"Me, too,” Ellie chimed in, nodding at Josh.
Annabeth met my eyes, a glimmer of understanding passing between us. Our partners were both boring, god-awful goody two shoes.
"Pussies," I jabbed, swinging open my door without giving them a moment to respond.
Annabeth hopped out behind me, waving at the two losers in the truck before spinning towards me with a grin on her face.
"They're weird," she said, rolling her eyes.
For a moment, I was drinking in the way her golden hair shimmered in the moonlight. A light breeze tickled at our faces, sending sparkles of her moon-lit hair between us.
"Yup," I mustered.
I turned, strolling towards the chain link fence that formed a circular perimeter around the base of Sabe's Tower.
Sabe’s Tower. Thirteen stories of abandoned potential, whispering of times past when our town's inhabitants thought we'd hit a population boom, becoming the Houston of West Virginia. In the 70s, our success was tied to coal. Jobs flooded in, and with them, a myriad of people trying to make their way in life. Then the mines abruptly ran dry, decimating our town's economy. Since that time, our population has done nothing but dwindle.
Sabe’s Tower. Thirteen stories of decaying grandeur, silently rotting from the inside out. Some say that's what happened to Sabe himself— a rot took hold in his core, spreading and spreading until nothing but rot was left. In the end, he took his own life, which some say was for the best. He was a greedy fool, the wealthiest man for miles, owning half the surrounding countryside before the mining industry took off. Made a fortune selling his family's land to coal companies, putting every ounce of profit into making his towering hotel more luxurious than a Ritz Carlton.
Sabe’s Tower. Thirteen stories of failed dreams, now screaming vulgar obscenities at our eyes. It is a truly ugly behemoth, domineering our town's skyline with unmerited arrogance. Sabe thought painting the tower purple would give it an air of majesty, like royalties of the past, swaddled in silky lavender robes. His aspiration, after all, was nothing less than to emulate the sacred Tabernacle of Moses, to make his hotel a dwelling place for gods among men. In its current state of disrepair, however, the tower was no more than an eyesore— a visual cacophony of broken glass, peeling sickly-purple paint, and rusted steel inlays.
Adding to the hotel's disgrace, it was cylindrical in form, perched atop the highest peak for miles, jutting into the sky like a middle finger to the gods. Its phallic outline stood in stark contrast to the run-down strip malls lying in its wake.
The fence surrounding the tower was a bit too tall and a bit too wobbly to safely scale, so we circled, looking for an entry point. Every few yards, a DO NOT TRESPASS sign hung, tied to the fence with zip-ties in each corner. Someone had taken the liberty to spray paint a word underneath each sign, now making them all read:
DO NOT TRESPASS ALONE.
"Good thing you're coming with me," I joked, pointing at one of the signs.
Annabeth paused to read it for a moment. "Yeah... kinda weird that someone did that. I wonder why?"
I shrugged, continuing around the perimeter.
Eventually, we found a gate in the fence, held closed with chains at waist level. The gate's post careened steeply outward, creating a manageable gap near the top. The gate post was only held in place by the chains, not even slightly anchored to the ground. Without too much of a struggle, we hoisted ourselves up and through the gap.
Once inside the fence, I found myself spellbound by the abandoned hotel. The stars in the night sky reflected across the windows, bending and warping around the curved perimeter. Each glimmer of starlight turned into dizzying fractals, melding together and slipping between the shards of broken glass with each shift of my gaze.
The result was honestly breathtaking.
At night, the eyesoriffic tower was beautiful. Its silhouette dared to embrace the star-studded cosmos, standing with a quiet dignity that defied its daytime mockery.
I felt Annabeth shuffle beside me.
Suddenly, her phone flashlight was on, illuminating a path through overgrown concrete to the tower. At the end of the path was the structure’s entrance— a gaping hole with no attempt to conceal the darkness within.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" I yelled, spinning to face her.
"W... What do you mean?" she stuttered.
"Turn that off, you idiot," I explained, lowering my voice. "Someone might see the light and call the cops."
The light flicked off, Annabeth mumbling apologies.
I blinked away the afterimage of weeds eating through the concrete lot, silently cursing myself for being so ridiculously hostile toward her.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"You're good, Donovan" she whispered, brushing her hand across my arm.
As we continued to the open doorway, the outside of the tower came into focus. It was far further dilapidated than I had realized— each accent of purple paint, faded and peeling, was bulging out from between the glass and steel like it was trying to escape. I rubbed a fingernail on the paint, revealing a soft, rotting wood beneath.
I entered the tower first, pausing to let my eyes adjust. The darkness of the doorway opened up into an atrium that must have once made for a magnificent entrance. It was shaped like a slice of pie, us standing near the crust, peering inward toward the center. Above was pitch black, not yielding any answers to just how high up this mighty room's ceiling stretched.
The musty scent that filled my nose was surprisingly welcoming— somewhere between the smell of fishing trips and century old bookstores. I took a deep breath, relishing in the soft stench.
I could vaguely make out wires dangling down from the ceiling of the atrium. They were impossibly long, stretching upward into the infinite gloom.
"They look like vines," Annabeth whispered, her voice a soft purr.
The air was thick with falling dust, filtering down from the abyss above, twirling between the wires in satisfyingly slow-motion. The falling dust made it even harder to see in the dark, leaving the walls on either side of the room foggy blobs. I waved my hand, sending fleeting dust spirals through the air.
I remembered seeing photos of the atrium online, taken on some of the earliest digital cameras ever made. Those pictures showed marble countertops, intricate wooden carvings, and lushly carpeted floors.
The room, as it stands today, is a barren husk of Sabe's vision. The carpet, only present in scattered clumps, was impossibly dark, soiled to the point of true black. It clung to the concrete foundation, viciously holding on for dear life in a losing battle.
I bent down to examine a clump of carpet in front of me, amazed by the absence of light reflecting back. It was like staring into a pit of nothing, a vague absence, an outline of something that should be there.
I poked the toe of my boot at it.
FPOOSH.
It exploded, erupting into my face.
I gagged instinctively, tasting the vile substance mix into my lungs. Annabeth slapped my back as I continued gagging and coughing, begging the mucus to tear itself free from my lungs and just fucking get out of my body because it feels like I'm dying oh GOD.
And eventually, it did.
The violent hacking subsided into slight wretching, then was gone.
"Are you okay?" Annabeth tested.
Do you think I'm fucking okay?
"What the fuck was that?" I spewed.
She bent over the clump of carpet. Underneath the blackened top layer that just violently erupted was a pale network of matted spiderwebs.
"Hmm..." she began, "It kind of looks like mycelium."
She met my raised eyebrow with an eye roll.
"You know, like the roots of a fungus or some shit, I don't know. I just saw the shrooms growing in Bryce's closet that one time he showed me his stash. This white stuff looks just like it. So I guess that makes this black stuff like the part of the shroom we eat, or whatever."
"Oh dip," I responded, nodding. "That makes sense. One time I saw a nature show about some plants that shoot their seeds everywhere when something touches them. It's probably just spreading its spores when we touch it."
"Yeah," she breathed, "pretty gnarly."
We shuffled deeper into the gloom, weaving between dangling cables and clumps of fungus. I felt a drop of moisture flick off a cable, sliding onto my arm.
I groaned. "Fuck. That cable was wet."
"Disgusting," she whispered back.
We made our way to the apex of the room, the center of the tower, revealing a rusted set of elevator doors leaning together like drunks at a quinceanera. The doorway to the stairs, however, beckoned to us with the same unobstructed, pitch-black allure that the tower's entrance emanated just minutes before.
In the dark, it's truly amazing how utterly void all open doorways look.
Upon stepping inside the stairwell, the world vanished. The only proof of having working eyes was a faint, vertical glow of light filtering through the door, abruptly fading into all-consuming black.
Every sound in the entire building bored through my soul, bouncing from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, echoing on and on for all of eternity. The stairwell, directly in the center of the decrepit hotel, was the focal point of every creaking floorboard, every popping nail, every howling gust of wind. It was as if I was holding up a monstrous conch shell to my ear— a deafening murmur of echoes in disarray, smelting together to form satanic harmonies.
"Whoa," Annabeth mumbled.
Her word cut through the other echoes, impossibly loud against their monotonous hum.
Instantly, the echo of her voice filled the stairwell, rising like the build up of a dubstep song until peaking, impossibly overwhelming for a few brief seconds. The echoes of her voice then faded as quickly as they arrived.
She put a hand to her mouth, the whites of her eyes barely visible in the glow coming from the doorway.
I reached out, placing a hand where her shoulder should be. There was not enough space for us to stand abreast in the stairwell, leaving us in a comically squished proximity. She was breathing rapidly, barely managing to stay silent. I squeezed, and her breathing quickly slowed. I felt her hand creep onto mine, and we stood for a minute, simply listening to the cries of the dying building echo around us.
As my eyes adjusted, I could make out a staircase spiraling up the curved wall. Clearly this was a service stairwell, as it is much too cramped for the likes of Sabe's guests. Only a few steps were visible through the darkness at a time, making the staircase feel even tinier than it already was. Luckily, no fungus grew on the stairs themselves, leaving the metal alone to rust.
Annabeth shuffled onto the first step, producing a small object from her pocket. She handed it to me, then pointed up the stairwell, careful to not send echoes through the cylindrical chamber again.
I brought it close to my eyes for inspection, straining against the lack of light.
A joint...
She wants to go to the roof and smoke.
A smile cracked my lips. Classic Annabeth.
Every couple stairsteps, there would be a doorway. Most of them let in a dim glow, offering a glimpse into what must have once been a custodial closet on each floor.
On floor 9, I tugged at Annabeth's hand. We made eye contact in the faint light coming from the doorway. I motioned through it, pointing to the nearly fungus free floor. I wanted to explore at least a little bit, to see if the closet circled around the stairwell or not.
I poked my head through the doorway, freeing myself from the overwhelming cacophony of echoes in the stairwell.
I verified that the closet did, in fact, curve around the circular staircase like a donut. A few steps in one direction led to a terrifying drop— the elevator shaft. Next to it, a sidewalk sized ledge led to an open door, giving a view of the floor's main hallway. The path looked safe— no fungus, cracks, or otherwise obvious defects— so I proceeded, treading as light as a fox, fumbling for Annabeth's hand behind me.
The main hallway ran between the custodial closet and the guest rooms, creating another donut ring around the central stairwell. Throughout the hallway, patches of fungus grew alarmingly close together, threatening to overtake the concrete.
"That stairwell was insane," Annabeth whispered.
I nodded. "Fuck yeah, I wonder what it was like when the hotel was actually open. Must have been miserable for the staff."
We weaved through the fungus filled hallway, coming to room 901. I glanced at Annabeth, raising my eyebrows. The door was slightly ajar, hanging from its one remaining door hinge. I pushed gently, eliciting a monstrous creak.
The room was empty, extending away to the outside in a familiar pie shape. The mold seemed to grow thinner in the room, leaving most of the exposed concrete safe to cross. At the far side, a floor to ceiling panel of windows looked out over our town.
I gasped, taking in the view. Never before had I seen our town from this high up. My eyes drew to the smokestacks by the river, their blinking lights ominously flickering over downtown. Individual streets ran in parallel lines away from the tower, lit with yellowing streetlights. Between the roads, tiny lights cast from window panes twinkled, blending with one another into a starscape of their own.
"Dude," I said. "Look at this."
No response.
I spun, looking for Annabeth, frantically scanning the room. My eyes had adjusted to the outside light, leaving me sightless.
"Annabeth," I hissed.
A cold tingle went up my spine, pulling at hairs on the back of my neck.
"Annabeth?"
​
Silence.
​
Silence.
​
Silence.
​
I crept back across the floor, now aware of the entire room at once. There was nowhere for her to be hiding. No desks, cans of paint, ladders, nothing. Just an empty room with patchy fungus growing on the cement.
Something must have happened.
I studied each fungal growth in the room as I passed by. Even with the light cast from the windows, the tops remained impossibly dark. Not a single feature was discernible— only an outline was visible.
Halfway to the door, a three foot wide hole led straight to floor 8. I could have sworn it wasn't there before. I peered into the opening, seeing straight through to the room below. From what I could see, it was identically empty.
"Annabeth," I tried again, nearing the door to the hallway.
"BOO!"
I stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet. I landed squarely on a patch of fungus.
FPOOSH.
I remembered to hold my breath, close my eyes, and plug my nose.
Annabeth cackled from the threshold of the doorway, standing over me with both hands on her forehead.
"You should have seen the look—" she began, breaking off into another fit of laughter.
"Shut up," I groaned, pushing to my feet. My entire body was covered in squishy fungus gunk. I pointed at the hole behind me, continuing. "You could have killed me."
"Blah, blah, blah," she mocked. "You're fine... you're just being a baby."
Annabeth gave me a playful shove, hands lingering for a moment overdue. Swatting her paws off me, I marched back to the stairwell. I led the rest of the way to floor 13, followed by her snickers.
As I reached the top of the stairs and stepped onto the 13th floor, my jaw dropped. It was a scene straight out of a surrealist painting. An enormous pool room lay before us. Glass walls extended up from the tile floors, creating a massive, clear domed perimeter. A swath of stars twinkled brilliantly through the clear ceiling, their light refracting through the glass, casting ethereal patterns onto the room's otherwise bleak surroundings.
The pool itself was a semi-circular cutout covering half the floor space, starting at ground level and deepening in a corkscrew motion. Its ceramic tiles, once probably a bright blue, were now tinged with patches of the same fungal growth we had come across on the lower floors. The growth was sparse here, though, letting the original floor design take prominence.
In the center of the room— on top of the staircase we just stepped out of— stood a circular pillar that extended up to the middle of the glass dome, like a spine holding up the entire tower. A small antenna jutted out from above the pillar atop the dome. Surrounding the antenna was a low fence, perhaps a safety measure for maintenance workers.
Annabeth, having finally contained her laughter, stepped beside me, her face illuminated by the soft starlight filtering in through the dome. She too stood silent, taken aback by the unexpected beauty of this forgotten space.
As we moved around the room, our steps echoed across the vast emptiness. With every patch of fungus we passed, the same eerie darkness hovered, the undulating mold standing stark against the ceramic tiles.
We made our way back to the central pillar. A ladder, carved into the pillar, connected to the glass ceiling with a trapdoor.
"To the roof?" Annabeth sang, rubbing her hands together in a goblin-like motion.
"Ladies first."
As she climbed above me, I couldn't help but crane my neck and drool. She slammed open the trapdoor, and we burst through to the roof.
The fenced-in area was covered with a dark spongy surface, gripping at my knees when I stood up. Wind whipped around us, carrying a chill that cut through my clothes and bit into my skin. With each gust, the antenna above us groaned and swayed, almost as if it were joining in a dance with an unseen partner.
We sat on the squishy rubber surface, comfortably in silence. I met her eyes, smiling dumbly. We passed the joint back and forth until it dwindled down, its ember glow flickering one last time before extinguishing completely. A familiar haze crawled through my thoughts, slowing the passage of time to a languishing crawl.
"Hey..." she started, "I think I've finally found inspiration for my next album."
I scooted closer to her, taking her hand. I knew the topic brought about an unusual timidity in her— a blemish in the badass persona she's so keen on presenting. She won't even talk to her own boyfriend about her music career.
"Yeah?" I floated.
She hesitated for a second, settling into the moment. I felt a tug at my crotch, suddenly all too aware of how pretty she looked in the moonlight. I took in every detail— the way her hair fell across her face, the pattern of her freckles, the soft speckling of stars reflecting across her eyes.
"I think you need to take off your shirt, first, though," she whispered, now inches from my face. "You're filthy."
I glanced down, remembering the fungal gunk that had soiled my clothes when she scared me.
Without warning, her hands slid under my shirt, warm and sure. I helped her yank it off, collapsing into her lips.
***
When we got back to the truck, I was still high enough to see everything in slow motion. Before pulling out of the parking lot, Annabeth and I regurgitated the events of our urban exploration, trying to show our significant others what fun they missed out on. It goes without saying that part of the story was intentionally omitted.
Ellie and Josh were unamused. Their lack of adventure will forever be a mystery to me.
We swung out of the lot, hopping onto the highway headed into town. I swayed between lanes, struggling to keep the double-yellow lines in focus.
"Are you sure you're good to drive?" Ellie asked, gripping the armrest.
"I'm fine," I slurred.
Seconds later, another truck materialized in front of us. I swerved to avoid it, then everything went black.
***
I woke up to a strong hand pulling me out of the window. My truck was upside down, the roof completely caved in.
I groaned. "Aww... fuck...."
The person who pulled me out looked like the kind of guy to chew tobacco and spit wisdom. His fishing cap cast a deep shadow across his eyes in the moon's glow, concealing his gaze. He was an old timer, that's for sure, one of those folk who came during the coal rush and decided to stay when all was said and done. I could see his truck— the same truck I saw moments before the crash— pulled into the shoulder of the highway with its blinkers on.
"Easy now," he reassured, his voice like gravel under a boot. "Anyone else inside?"
I nodded, unable to speak.
I plopped onto the grassy slope embarking off the side of the road. The old man pulled their mangled bodies out, one by one.
The countryside shrank around me. I felt the corners of my vision pulling in, the weed in my system straining the limits of shock I could take before melting down.
"I'm sorry, son," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of my guilt. "The police will be here soon. Don't you worry."
The police.
I stood up. I knew exactly how the police treated people with my skin color in this town.
I ran.
"Hey now!" the man hollered.
I kept running.
Away from my truck, away from my dead friends, away from the police.
I ran until my breath came in ragged, uncontrollable huffs. I flopped to the ground, laying on the cool concrete, cradling my head with my hands. Blood flowed between my fingertips, pooling onto the pavement.
I laid there until police sirens wailed through the night, rapidly approaching. They stopped at the wreck, leaving me in silence. Moments later, the sirens picked up their mournful song again, heading toward me.
I sat up.
I was back in the lot of Sabe's Tower. Only then did I realize how little distance I really ran from the wreck— a couple hundred yards at most.
Four, five, maybe even six sirens filled the air. They were all coming for me. They knew what I had done.
I bolted from my position on the concrete. I could hide in the tower. No way the cops would look for me in that rotting place. They wouldn't dare.
I squeezed through the gap in the fence, same as before, vaulting past the
DO NOT TRESPASS ALONE
signs in a fluid lunge. The sirens behind me screamed into the night, melding together into a continuous doomsday chant.
Red and blue lights filled the lot. I hit the ground right in front of the gaping entrance to the tower, praying that the weeds poking through the concrete would be enough to mask my form. I army crawled, inch by inch, dragging myself across broken bottles and plywood shrapnell, until I was safely in the darkness of the tower.
In.
Out.
I breathed.
In.
Out.
A police cruiser parked in the lot. Its siren drowned out all other wails for a moment before shutting off. A chubby white officer hopped out, surveying the scene. His gaze came to rest on the spot where I had lain. He squatted down, raking a finger through the pool of blood I left behind. He took a few steps toward the tower, squatting down yet again. Another splotch of blood, no doubt.
His voice floated through the plaza, slightly nasal and a little out of breath. "Dispatch, this is officer Chetty, badge number 741. I'm on the scene at 1019 Pleasant Valley Lane, in the lot of Sabe's Tower. I've located a pool of fresh blood that may be linked to our hit-and-run suspect. Possible injury, suspect could be close. Requesting immediate backup and forensics for evidence collection."
Fuck.
I wormed my way further into the tower's belly, sliding between patches of fungus like a mouse in a snake pit, heading for the stairwell. I had to ascend, to find some nook or cranny out of reach of the pursuing officers. The godforsaken tower was one big game of hide and seek, only this time, losing meant far worse than a bruised ego.
Something gurgled in the darkness.
My blood froze. I halted, my heart hammering a tattoo against my ribs. Holding my breath, I strained my senses, eyes peering into the graying murk, searching for the source of the sound.
It came again, a wretched retching, like an animal choking on its own vomit. Hacking, gurgling, bubbling wetness bursting through strained vocal chords, a sound of fading vitality. It was coming from near the door, just outside the meager halo of light slipping through the hole.
A wet line smeared across the back of my neck. A yelp escaped my lips before I realized it was just a cord dangling from the ceiling.
At my yelp, the gurgling paused.
A heavy hush fell over the place, the quietude of the hunted.
I could faintly make out echoes emanating from the stairwell, only a few feet behind me.
The gurgling continued, sucking at the thick air. It began to drag itself forward through the fungus covered floor— a slow, steady, rhythmic drag against the concrete.
FPOOSH.
A geyser of spores bloomed, mingling with swirls of dust in the meager light. The creature, or whatever it was, did not slow its approach. Out of the darkness, a form began to shape— a silhouette clawing its way toward me.
FPOOSH.
I could see this eruption envelop the mass on the floor. One hand appeared, then another. Its fingers scrabbled over the concrete, searching for any purchase to grip. They flexed, heaving the thing even closer.
A mop of curly hair appeared between the hands. A body, face down. It pulled itself closer, into another fungal growth, grinding its face through the rough concrete.
FPOOSH.
A knife protruded from its back. The handle jutted upward, a grim totem amidst the grime and gore. I shuddered, involuntarily taking a step closer to the stairwell.
It looked up at me.
Or rather, Josh looked up at me.
I stared back, mouth agape.
His face was nearly sanded off from the concrete. His nose took the worst of it, ground down to the bone, leaving only two sucking, gurgling holes between his eyes. His cheeks were a mangled mess of blood and rocks, viscous red flowing freely to the tip of his chin before dribbling off. The chunks of meat hanging where lips should have been flapped against his teeth with every jerky motion, tethered to his face by all too little strands of flesh. Beneath them, his teeth showed bright red and white in a perpetual grimacing smile.
"Josh?" I managed to whisper, my voice a frightened squeak.
Josh opened his mouth as if to respond, ripping both cheeks in half. He hacked, gurgling, spitting up blood that came from deep within his torso. He slowly cocked his head to the side, but instead of stopping at a slant, he kept twisting his neck until bones started to crack and his head dangled upside down.
His mangled, upside down head swung limply as he pulled himself to his knees, his neck like jelly. He wasn't wearing the same clothes he was wearing earlier tonight— no, he was wearing clothes from the night Annabeth first cheated on him with me. He was at a Villanova game, supporting his favorite team since birth. Annabeth knew he would be gone for the weekend, so we took our chance. I was still at her place when he came back, wearing his Collin Gillespie jersey and reeking of beer.
Now in front of me, his prized jersey was in tatters, torn to ribbons by the concrete. He groaned, shuffling and reaching for me with bloody fingers.
I bolted into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. I pushed myself faster and faster until the door to floor 9 loomed to my side. I didn't pause for a moment, pushed forward by the gurgling echoes reverberating from below.
My thighs, weak from the frantic climb, begged for a break. I wobbled into the hallway, painfully tip-toeing through the fungus. The door to 901 beckoned ahead, hanging open like it had been awaiting my hasty return.
I stumbled over the threshold when Annabeth's singing filled the room. "Oh, Donovan!"
I froze.
Outlined against the window was a two-headed beast. One face belonged to Annabeth, the other to Ellie. The creature swayed, an obscene dance of bare, fused flesh. It wore no clothes, as if to mock God himself. It had two sets of everything— eight appendages total, like a humanoid arachnid. Annabeth's breasts, now side by side with Ellie's, put Ellie to shame, even now.
Annabeth crooned again, "Oh, Donovan!" each syllable laced with acid and honey. The sound made my skin crawl as it floated through the silent room.
"You always did want more, didn't you Donovan?" Ellie sneered, a harsh grin splitting her face.
Annabeth spat, "More than Ellie could give. More than anyone could give."
The thing dropped to the floor with a thud. All eight limbs moved in unison as it crawled.
"Isn't this what you wanted? Both of us at the same time?" Their voices tumbled over each other, mouths moving in synchrony. Together, their laughter filled the hollow room. "Don't you like the thrill, Donovan? Don't you like playing with fire?"
The thing scurried at me, jumping over fungal growths with powerful leaps. The sudden movement broke my paralyzation, spurring my legs to action. I darted into the closet and through the stairwell door, into the gurgling echoes.
Back down the stairwell I ran, the two headed beast in pursuit. Both girls snarled, hindered by their conjoined size in the narrow passageway. Their struggle echoed through the stairwell, mixing with the gurgling. I fled further down, needing to put distance between that thing and me.
I stopped dead in my tracks between floors 2 and 3.
Josh was there, leaning against the wall with the knife removed from his back, now grasped tightly in his hand. I staggered back up the stairs, instinctively retreating, narrowly avoiding the blade as he lunged at me.
Glancing up, I caught a flash of pale skin bearing down on me, cutting off my escape. My only way out was the door to floor 3. I charged through the closet, leaving the echoes behind me.
Floor 3 was empty— no walls, only fungus and windows. The atrium loomed to my left, a pie shaped hole missing from the floor and ceiling. I backed away from the door, eyeing the dangling cords hanging in the atrium.
Maybe... Just maybe....
Josh stumbled from the stairwell, filling the air with his wet slurping. Annabeth and Ellie followed, scrambling toward me.
I didn't have time to think.
I jumped, grasping at the dangling wires, praying they would hold my weight.
Time stuttered, hanging suspended like an icicle on a winter's morning. The world spun in a dizzying blur as I twisted, fingers stretching for a grip. Panic clawed its icy fingers up my spine, but it was the surprise that struck me most. The simple disbelief that this was happening.
A wire found its way into my hand, snapping without slowing my fall.
The wind whooshed past, ripping the breath from my lungs. Above me, the third floor retreated, its grimy concrete replaced by a view of the atrium's ceiling, wires swinging back and forth from my desperate escape.
Then came the sensation of falling. It's a feeling that strikes a primal chord, an orchestra of fear and adrenaline that means the end of a life. My stomach lurched, free-falling alongside me, while the rest of my body seemed to hover in a state of disbelief.
The impact came as both a shock and an inevitability. There was a moment of sheer, undiluted pain, a soundless scream reverberating through my very bones. It felt like being shattered from the inside out, an explosion of agony that started from my back and radiated outwards. An iron-hot spike of pain shot through me, and then, a chilling void as everything below my waist slipped into a terrifying numbness.
The echo of my body's collision rang in my ears as the world spun into a disorienting whirl of blurs, shadows, and pain. The cold concrete beneath me felt real, solid, a chilling contrast to the sudden loss of sensation in my legs.
In the throbbing silence that followed, I understood. I had fallen. I was broken. I lay sprawled on the atrium floor, gasping, the world tilting dangerously in my vision.
Annabeth and Ellie emerged from the staircase, scrambling across the atrium floor. Red and blue police lights filtered through the tower’s windows, making shadows dance between the monster's eight limbs. Josh wasn't far behind, still clutching onto the bloody knife, head rolling upside down between his shoulders.
"Police, we're coming in!" a familiar nasally voice shouted.
The moment officers stepped foot in the tower, the monsters vanished in a spray of spores.
​
X

Fourth and final part at the same time tomorrow.
Series Page - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Three)
Clouds. Black, moving, twisting like rope. His head ached. His blood was hot as flame. Fire flashed in the clouds, and the old stormtower gleamed. The Old Man stared back at him from the gloom, eyes carving at his skin. You could have warned me. He taunted him. Smoke bled around his shoulders, and his skin melted away. Cal tried to look away, but it was too late. The fire was on him, and the sky filled his eyes with black water, smothering his breath.
*
He gasped, pain searing down his spine, and choked on his own breath, spluttering.
‘Get him up.’
‘I’ve got him.’
Lokk’s voice. Cal felt a hand curling underneath one of his arms, lifting his aching jaw off the floorboards. Pain shot down his back again, and he cried out, eyes spinning. Then there was another hand beneath him, and he was lifted groaning away from the floor. They lowered him carefully into a chair, and he fell against it, skin stinging, panting through gritted teeth.
‘What happened to him?’
‘Had a wolf at ‘im, by the looks of it!’
‘Don’t be a fool! No wolves in these woods.’
‘Believe in magic, but not in wolves?’
Cal groaned again.
‘Shut it, all of you!’
Cal blinked again, and the Innkeep’s rosy cheeks coalesced into the air before his eyes, looking down at him worriedly. Lokk was at his shoulder, wide-eyed, his mop of lank hair hanging loosely over his forehead. Someone had put the door to, and it was suddenly very quiet. Cal took a breath.
‘What happened, boy?’ The Innkeep asked him. Beyond his shoul-ders, Cal could see the faces of a half-dozen patrons, blinking back at him with wide eyes. All except Old Godry, who looked mildly irritated. Outside, the storm wailed helplessly against the thatching, and thunder rumbled against the hills, more distant, now. Cal held his breath, craning his ears. But the footsteps were gone. He swallowed.
‘There were…’ He hesitated, glancing towards the door. ‘I… fell.’
‘Down half the Teeth by the looks of it!’ Lokk pointed at his arms. ‘What were you doing out in this?’
Cal blinked, looking down. His arms were crisscrossed with dozens of bloody cuts, and his shirt was hanging off him in strings. He frowned, shrugging, and then winced as fire raced over his skin, and fell back against the chair, gasping.
‘Thought… Thought I had time to get back.’
‘Damned fool.’ Carel told him, appearing beside her father. She had a pail of steaming water under one arm, and a bundle of rags in the oth-er. ‘Got to clean those before they rot.’
‘I’m fi-’
‘That’s enough talking.’ The Innkeep told him. ‘Or I’ll want coin for the cloth.’
Cal thought better of arguing.
‘Saw a fair few mugs go over.’ The Innkeep turned towards the rest of the room, smiling reassuringly. ‘I’ll fetch a new barrel. This one’s on the house.’
A few grumbles of approval from the assembled regulars. They were all watching him. He could feel their eyes on him, prying, poking. Sen-sible boys know better than to go wandering in a storm. They’d always thought the Blacksmith’s stray was cracked. Same as his master. Godry seemed to have let his irritation go at the promise of free ale, but Cal spotted the butcher’s brute of a son, Petr, sneering back at him over the rim of his mug. He lowered his eyes. They thought him mad. Maybe they were right. Behind his eyes, the shadows were still chasing him through endless trees, clawing at his heels. But the door stayed closed, and there was no sound beyond it but the storm. Maybe he was losing his mind.
‘Quite the show, that was.’ Lokk grinned as his father went off to find the barrel. Carel rolled her eyes, pulling up another chair and set-ting about dampening the cloth. ‘Barely seen you in weeks, then you show up all bloody an’ panting like a wolf that’s got in with the chick-ens? You always knew how to make an entrance.’
Cal grunted. He didn’t feel like explaining himself. Wasn’t sure he could, even if he did.
‘Scared off the new folk, too.’ Lokk nodded towards an empty table in the far corner of the room, scattered with discarded mugs.
Cal blinked. ‘What?’
‘Had some of Solen’s new hands in tonight.’ Lokk told him offhand-edly, scratching his chin. ‘Quiet lot. Must have given them quite the fright. Saw themselves out sharpish.’
‘What did… hnngg.’ Cal clamped his teeth together with a groan as Carel pressed one of the rags against his bloody forearm.
‘Stay still.’ She told him, wiping the cloth slowly across his skin. It felt like someone was stripping his flesh with a wood plane. Cal clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to yelp. Lokk lounged idly against the bar beside him, sweeping his loose hair back from his forehead un-tidily.
‘Interrupted Godry, too.’ His friend went on, clearly unperturbed by his suffering. ‘Old goat hates being interrupted.’
Cal grunted again. The little clump of patrons seemed to have lost interest in him, now, turning back to their mugs as the Innkeep moved deftly through the tables, a little cask under his arm. Petr and his father were sitting glowering at no one in particular. Forley and his young wife Priss looked taken aback, and not the least bit shaken, by the un-expected turn of events the evening had taken, but the dour-faced min-ers beside them (whose names Cal did not know) seemed to have paid Cal’s entrance no heed at all. Old Godry was sitting patiently, firelight knotting over his scarred cheeks, waiting for his cue. Soon their mugs were full again, and the foolishness of the Blacksmith’s stray was quite forgotten. The Innkeep set the empty cask down somewhere behind the bar, and went off to find another barrel. Cal gritted his teeth as Carel went on with her work, eyes watering, and watched the villagers blur indifferently by the fire.
‘You weren’t finished, Godry.’ Albin, the butcher began, taking a long swig from his mug. ‘’bout to tell us how the wizard farted out his storm to save the savages.’
Cal saw Forley roll his eyes. ‘You know damned well where we were! Tell us about Arolf!’
Albin scowled, opening his mouth to retort, but Godry regained his composure in time to step in.
‘Aerolf, Forley.’ He corrected patiently.
‘Aerolf, then.’ The young shepherd agreed, rolling his eyes. ‘What happened next?’
‘Well, like I was saying, old King Talor’s already met his end, but them Northmen weren’t done yet. That beast Aerolf most of all.’ Godry began, lowering his voice and eyeing his audience conspiratorially. ‘He had a score to settle, see. This weren’t the kind of man to let a woman run from him, you understand.’
‘Serves him right.’ Albin grumbled. ‘Couldn’t keep her in his bed, even with a sword on her.’
The two miners snorted in agreement, and Petr just kept scowling. Cal flinched as Carel drew her rag over a particularly deep cut. He caught her eye reproachfully, and she smiled slyly.
‘Oops.’
She was very close, he realised, and he could feel the heat of her against his cut-thread skin. Another night, he might even have enjoyed it.
‘So there they was, dead King and all. Could of had the throne for hisself, right then.’ The old miner continued gravely. ‘But he was more animal than man. Mad as a beast, they say, big as a bear, covered head to toe in blood, cut up like an old buck. And this beast had a taste for blood.’
The little circle of villagers leaned a little closer in their seats, eye-ing Godry eagerly. Cal realised he was listening along with them.
‘So off he goes, bloody magic blade in hand.’ Godry held out his hand like a blade, scowling at them over the fire. ‘He finds that place where old King Talor locked up his pretty young daughter. And what’d’you think he does when he finds it?’
‘Kills her.’ Forley whispered.
‘That’s right, boy.’ Godry nodded, dropping his arm. ‘Heard it said he clawed the tower door open with his bare hands. Dragged her out in-to that garden, butchered her right there in the grass, threw her off that big rock of theirs like an old ham. This weren’t a man you run from. If he couldn’t have her, no one could.’
‘How’d they kill him, then?’ Albin asked, frowning.
‘Well, see now. Northmen ain’t the only one with monsters.’ Godry said craftily, raising one patchwork brow. ‘Dekar’s a sharp one. He’d realised what was afoot, by now. Rallied the King’s Men, drove the scum back out of the King’s hall. Weren’t a man amongst them left standing, save the ones in the garden. But for Aerolf and them, he saved his best killer.’
‘The Bloodless.’ Forley murmured.
‘The Bloodless.’ Godry agreed. ‘Biggest woman you’ve ever seen. Big as a wagon, skin like blue snow. They say there’s nought but ice in them veins, and if you cut her, she don’t bleed.’
‘And I’ve got rocks for balls.’ Albin snorted.
‘Might as well, for all the good they do you.’ Godry snapped back at him. ‘But the Bloodless finds the traitor. Right there in that garden, all covered in the Princess’s blood. Cuts Aerolf down, throws him from the walls after her, him and his magic sword. Almost killed that Stonesplitter dog, too, whilst she were at it. Weren’t no easy thing though; gets her head cut open like a peach for its trouble. Should’ve died, right there. Would’ve, if not for those… other types Dekar had took up with.’
‘‘Least the traitor was dead.’
‘Aye, that he was. That Heartspire’s taller than a mountain. Say there weren’t nothing left of him but mulch, once he got to the bottom. Him and the princess both.’
‘Makers have mercy.’ Forley murmured, making the sign of the Nine over his breast. Even Albin took another mouthful of ale.
‘Weren’t no mercy. A beast don’t deserve none.’ Godry said sober-ly, following Forley and drawing a circle over his chest. ‘If he couldn’t ‘ave her, no one could.’
Cal barely heard them. He felt drained, as though the cuts had bled the weight from his bones. He floated just above his chair in a haze, and the roomed blurred and swayed as if through shallow water. Carel went about her work quietly, carefully, and the pain of it washed over him in raw waves, until the pail of water at her feet was stained an ugly pink.
‘Dekar had a plan though!’ Forley whispered excitedly, his rever-ence forgotten. ‘Tell ‘em, Godry!’
‘That he did, Forley.’ Godry smiled, his scarred face contorting gro-tesquely. ‘See, that Dekar’s sharp as a carving knife. Took up Taylor’s magic sword, led the King’s Men himself. But that weren’t all. Had some of his men kept back, from down West. Big men. Hard men. Came on the Northmen camp in the dead of night. Surrounded ‘em.’
‘Weren’t just any men, I hears it.’ Albin grumbled.
‘Here we go!’ Forley snorted.
‘Said it yourself, Godry. Dekar took up with them religious types.’ Albin shot back, frowning indignantly. ‘Everyone knows it.’
‘Religious? Masks don’t keep the Makers.’ Forley spat. ‘Ain’t noth-ing but bandits dressed up like monks.’
Cal blinked.
‘Brothers ain’t got no Gods save the Darkness.’ Priss murmured qui-etly. ‘You say Nine, I say eight.’
‘All the same.’ Albin was saying, folding his arms over his mug. ‘Brothers are useful, and good old Dekar didn’t sniff at them like you do.’
‘That’s enough, Alb.’ Godry interrupted. ‘He’s still our King, even all the way out here.’
Cal opened his mouth, straightening in his seat, but Carel pushed him back down again tutting.
‘Sit still.’
‘But-’
‘Hardly our King anymore, anyways.’ Albin spat. ‘Not like it used to be. Valia’s for the lowlanders.’
‘You sounds like a Northman.’ Forley scowled.
‘Or one of the Elahi.’ Priss added. Albin bristled, and Godry jumped in just in time.
‘Doesn’t matter. All Dekar’s hard men never got to the Northmen camp.’ The grizzled old smelter went on. ‘Seems old Isandur weren’t done yet.
Cal gritted his teeth. His head ached, and his mouth tasted like smoke.
Albin spat at his feet, sneering. ‘Isandur my arse.’
‘Let him be, Alb.’ Forley told him.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the butcher and his son fixed Forley with their most angry of looks. Then Godry cleared his throat noisily, and Petr shoved himself to his feet and stalked off to-wards the bar, snatching up their empty mugs as he went.
‘But Isandur is a crafty one, and no mistake. Showed up just in time, as always. What he wanted from it, no man can say. Them Chosen are scheming sorts, what ones is left. Us mortals couldn’t guess what they’s thinkin’.’ He paused, nodding knowingly. ‘Storm-tamers, they call ‘em. He spoke the words, and the sky opened. Biggest storm you’ve ever seen. Caught Dekar’s men as they came. Scattered ‘em like wheat in a gale.’
Petr aimed a crooked smile at Carel as he passed, and she lowered her eyes. Cal barely noticed. He no longer heard Godry. The room around him seemed very far away. Was he awake? Or was he dream-ing?
‘Northerners took the chance. Fled faster than the wind what chased them. Them that were still on the rock, them what murdered and killed our King?’ Godry went on, shaking his head sadly. ‘Them he called the wind itself for, and carried them away before Dekar could get at them. Aerolf’s brother, among them. King of the North, he goes by now. Couple of other Northmen, too. Stonesplitter cut almost in half by the Bloodless’ blade.’
Albin spat on the floor, and the miners scowled. No right-minded Valian liked this part, magic or not. Cal ground his teeth.
‘That Chosen bastard let the King get his throat slit, then shows up to save his killers.’ Albin cursed.
‘Makers know why. Not been seen since.’ Godry agreed. ‘Back they went, anyway, back to the rest of the savages as they fled like dogs. Storm was so heavy, river banks burst behind them, flooded half the valley.’
Cal’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his skull was ringing. Out-side, the wind whined over the thatching, howling at the broken clouds.
‘Don’t matter how many men Dekar had. Or how many Brothers. Ain’t no one swimming in mail.’
Cal forced his eyes shut. Black Ones. A storm. Falling.
‘Cal?’
He opened his eyes, blinking into the firelight, and found Carel look-ing down at him worriedly.
‘Does it hurt?’ She was asking softly.
‘What… no, I’m fine.’ He told her, blinking again. ‘I need to…’
‘Stay here.’ She told him, lifting up the bloody pail. ‘I need more cloth.’
She turned on her heel and disappeared. Cal’s head spun.
‘… already scared off the new folk with all these tall stories.’ Albin was saying. ‘Storm’s just a storm. Forge boy knows.’
Cal blinked, lurching unsteadily to his feet. Asking questions, the Innkeep had said. His vision blurred unsteadily, and the room stared back at him, wobbling like a top.
‘Cal, you need to sit down.’ Lokk told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Cal blinked. His eyes stopped spinning, and the ache in his head had vanished. The wind had moved on overhead, and the air was thick with smoke and heat. The little group of patrons were eyeing him curiously. All save the butcher.
‘Listen to him boy, before you hurt yourself.’ Albin sneered back at him.
‘Come on, Cal. Ignore him.’ Lokk murmured in his ear.
Cal swallowed, meeting the swarthy butcher’s eye for a moment. Then he let himself be steered backward, slumping into his seat like an empty sack.
‘Must have lost more blood than I thought.’ Lokk told him, pulling up a chair beside him and tutting. ‘Want to pick a fight with Albin as well as that storm?’
‘What?’ Cal mumbled, blinking. The butcher had gone back to his drink, and the other villagers had gone with him, grumbling amongst themselves about the practicalities of storm-tamers and treacherous, magical old men. He took a breath. ‘I wasn’t. I-’
‘Sure looked like you were. You know Alb. Just his way. Didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘Lokk, when did the new folk leave?’
‘What? Oh… I told you. Right after you turned up. Spooked ‘em good, you did, all bloody like a fresh ham…’
‘Where did they go?’
‘How should I know? Had my hands full peeling you off the floor. Why d’you care, anyway?’
‘Lokk, I need to…’
‘Oh, no you don’t! You aren’t going anywhere. Need to rest.’ His friend told him, pinning him to his chair by his shoulders. ‘Look like you fell down half the Teeth face first.’
‘I…’ Cal began, lowering his voice. His head was clearing, and the room was no longer spinning like a leaf. Beside the fire, the other pa-trons were still bickering emptily. The storm had passed, and the ache of it was clearing from his battered skull. ‘I didn’t just fall. Something was chasing me.’
‘What are you talking about? You crack your head, too?’
‘Lokk, listen. There were…’
‘Let go!’
They both looked up at the sudden commotion from beside the bar. Carel had just made it out from behind it with a fresh pail of steaming water before Petr had cornered her, bulky shoulders blocking the way forward like a stubborn bullock. He had one meaty hand curled around Carel’s wrist, and she had her eyes fixed on the floor. Cal was on his feet before Lokk could say anything.
‘Let go of her.’
The big youth let go of Carel’s wrist, and the pail fell abruptly back to her side, spilling steaming water across the floor. She looked at it distantly, frowning.
‘Or what, you little shit?’ The butcher’s son grumbled throatily, turning slowly around to facing Cal, glaring down at him with rheumy-eyes. His words had the imprecise edge of drink to them, and his breath smelled of sour ale. ‘Gonna throw yourself down a fucking hill at me?’
‘Just leave her be, Petr.’ Lokk added from Cal’s shoulder.
‘Mind your own business.’ The big youth snorted, still glaring at Cal darkly. ‘Sit down before you hurt yourself, stray.’
He began to turn back to Carel. Lokk put a hand on Cal’s shoulder, and Cal ignored him.
‘Leave her be.’ He said again.
‘Or what?’ Petr snarled back, lurching around again, wiping spittle from the corner of his mouth. ‘Going to bleed on me?’
‘It’s fine, Cal. No harm done.’ Carel said quietly from beside the bar, eyes still on the ground. ‘Sit down, let me finish with your cuts.’
‘You heard her. Be a good little foundling and sit down like she says.’
Cal swallowed. Petr was nearly a head taller than he was, and his arms were thick, corded with miner’s work. But there would be no avoiding it now, and he didn’t have the patience to let it be, that night. The big youth was drunk, and spoiling for a fight. Cal glanced back over his shoulder, but the other patrons were bickering loudly beside the fire, oblivious, or indifferent, or both. The Innkeep was still in the back somewhere, tapping a new barrel. Strike first. Strike hard. Cal shifted his feet slightly, readying himself. His head had cleared, and his pain was far away. The moment of calm was on him. A blink in time. The room faded away, vibrating with stillness. There was only his breath. In, and out. He waited.
‘Nothing to say? Suppose a dead whore can’t teach her cunt son any manners.’
Cal moved quickly, uncoiling like a bowstring. He burst forward off his hind leg, bunching his fist towards Petr’s slab of a jaw. The butch-er’s son had no chance to react. How could he? Cal moved with the ease of a seasoned brawler, hard limbs whipping like clubs. Lokk’s arm slipped from his shoulder. He was already halfway across the distance between them before Petr could even blink.
His boot splashed, skidded, slid. The water. Cal blinked, lost bal-ance, and slid wildly into Petr’s chest. His head thudded into the other boy, and he staggered back, confused, dazed. Petr blinked down at him, cogs turning slowly in his ale-slowed mind. Then a broad grin spread across the big youth’s jaw.
‘Should’ve listened, stray.’

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