Bel air patch

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Chapter 6 - From the Ashes
Winrow, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein, Year 991
She remembered the sounds of screaming. That day came to her in flashes of disjointed images and sensations. In one moment, there was the usual constant chill of the facility, and then in the next there was a burning heat spiraling outwards, climbing up the walls and dying the grey into red.
She remembered twisting shadows and contorted figures. Those magicians, distant and immoveable figures for so much of her life, collapsed to their knees and choked on smoke.
She remembered smaller figures writhing in the flames. A hand crushed beneath debris reaching towards her. A smoking corpse she couldn’t recognize.
She still wondered, sometimes, lying on the cot and staring up at the wooden ceiling, if it had been Tom or Ben. She would focus on the little details of the figure, laboring over the smoking limbs and the exact hunch of the shoulders. She never did know for certain.
She supposed it didn’t matter in the end.
—
Joan inhaled, tightening and loosening her grip on the tray of food she was carrying with her. Once she was done mentally preparing herself, she pushed back her shoulders, gripped the door handle, and turned it.
The door opened with a loud creak. Joan had decided to leave it unoiled on purpose; Amara never responded to knocks, so the least she could do was give a very obvious advance warning when she entered the room.
Joan plastered on a large smile, ignoring the numbness that had been growing on one side of her face, and stepped over to the figure seated on the bed. Amara didn’t even turn, her eyes fixed on the open window and the flowing curtains. It was a bright day, the towering white clouds drifting peacefully across a vast expanse of blue. The sight was particularly welcome after a week of non stop rain.
“Good morning,” Joan said in her most cheery voice. She set the tray down on a small table placed beside the cot. Slowly, Amara turned her head to stare at her. Joan swallowed.
Ever since Amara had woken up, she’d barely spoken or even acknowledged her surroundings. All her movements were dulled, as though she was wading through water, and Joan had yet to see any true reaction from her.
Even when she’d first quietly explained what had happened, that the building was gone and that there weren’t any other survivors, Amara had just listened quietly, perfectly still and unmoving. When Joan had finished speaking, all she’d said was, “Can I see the ruins?”
Joan hadn’t known how to respond to that. Part of her suspected she still hadn’t fully processed what had happened and seeing the destroyed building might provide closure, but she also had to be honest and tell Amara that she was in no condition to move. Amara hadn’t responded to that, but she would still ask, every now and then. Those were the only times she would speak without first being prompted. Besides that, she only ever answered in short, clipped sentences, never referring to Joan by name and never saying more than necessary.
When Joan had confided in Leila, the watchman had made a sympathetic noise and shaken her head. “Poor thing must be in shock,” she’d said.
It was the most obvious explanation and the one Joan had immediately jumped to as well. And yet, the longer she spent around her patient, the more she started to wonder if that initial assessment was wrong.
Despite how dulled her movements seemed and how little she spoke, Amara’s eyes never had the same look to them. Even when she stared off into the distance, there was a constant sharpness there, a hardness that seemed at odds with the rest of her behavior.
Even now, seated on the hospital cot, Amara studied her with that same uncanny perceptiveness, a gaze that always made Joan feel like she was being judged. She forced her own eyes to remain steady instead of darting away like her first instinct was. She briefly considered how absurd it was for her, a former Rose, to be intimidated by an injured patient who was probably half her age and barely old enough to no longer qualify as a “girl.”
Joan cleared her throat, the sound seeming to echo in the pervasive silence.
“How are you today?”
A silent stare was her only answer. Joan suppressed the urge to sigh, instead keeping her smile plastered on. She nodded at the tray of food and stood again.
“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be right there doing work.”
Some time after Amara had woken up, Joan had gotten some neighbors to help her move a table into the patient room so that she could keep an eye on her while working. Amara hadn’t voiced any complaints about it, and it made Joan a little less uneasy, so she’d stuck with the system.
Joan settled down in her seat, squinting down at the stack of letters. She didn’t start reading, however, until she heard the familiar clink of silverware as Amara finally ate. Her shoulders slumped in relief, and she leaned over the table and began to work, ignoring the sensation of eyes on her back as she did so.
—
“You’re healing well,” Joan commented as she carefully inspected an unwrapped wound. She was sure to move slowly and with deliberate gestures, not missing the way Amara’s eyes followed her hands whenever she checked her injuries.
As Joan moved on to the next bandage, she once again considered how lucky Amara was to have survived the explosion. Though she hadn’t seen the building collapse herself, a few of the onlookers had told her that it was sudden and violent. “What do you think happened?” one of them had asked. Joan had told him that she didn’t know. Truthfully she suspected it had been an experiment gone wrong, but she hadn’t wanted to reveal Amara’s secret. As far as the other villagers were concerned, the building was just a lone orphanage that had suffered an unfortunate accident.
“Can I see the ruins?”
Joan frowned. “Not yet,” she said slowly. “Not until all your bones are healed.”
When she looked up again, Amara had turned her head away and was staring at the sky again. Joan sighed and continued the check up.
—
A knock sounded from down the hallway. Joan set down the shirt she was patching and stood with a frown.
“I’ll be right back,” she said before rising and hurrying to the door.
When she opened it, she found not another patient, but Leila still in her watchman uniform. She blinked at the woman, eyes briefly darting over to the basket she was carrying, then back up.
“Leila, it’s good to see you. What’re you doing here?”
“I was patrolling around the area and thought I’d stop by. Here.” She raised her hand and passed the basket over. Joan took it and peered down at its contents. Inside, she found various ripe fruits, some bright flowers that Leila must’ve gotten fresh from the florist, and a small pouch that, when opened, contained an array of glinting coins. Joan’s eyes widened.
“Leila, you didn’t have to—”
“They’re from the watchmen,” the other woman interrupted. She smiled. “I told them I was stopping by and they pooled together some money to help out.”
A warm feeling rose in Joan’s chest. She swallowed, carefully closing the pouch again and setting it back inside the basket beside a bright yellow blossom. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Please tell them thank you for me.”
Leila reached out a gloved hand and patted her shoulder. “After all the times you’ve had to heal us, this is the least we could do,” she joked. She glanced behind Joan at the hallway and lowered her voice. “Speaking of which, how’s she doing?”
“She’s healing well,” Joan said. “I estimate she’ll be able to walk around within the month.”
“You really do work miracles.” Leila shook her head and stepped back. “I ought to get back on patrol. Remember, if you ever need anything, you can ask me.” With a wave, the woman turned around and walked away.
Joan watched her retreating back, shaking her head with fondness before moving to close the door. Basket carefully balanced in her hands, Joan made her way back down the hallway and to the patient room.
“I’m sorry about that, Amara,” she said as she stepped through the doorway. “Leila visited and—”
Joan’s voice cut off.
The cot where Amara usually sat was empty, the wrinkled sheets haphazardly pulled aside. Joan’s eyes darted frantically around the room, landing on her desk table, where her sewing box was overturned, its contents spilled across the table, chair, and wooden ground. Fabric strips, threads, pins, cushions of needles.
And there, a few feet away from the desk, she could just barely make out the top of a head poking out from behind the bed.
The basket fell to the floor.
“No no no—”
Joan didn’t think, immediately sprinting towards the back of the room, cursing herself for being so stupid. Am I too late?
“Amara!” Joan called, stumbling as she leapt onto the cot and peered over in dread, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
There, seated on the ground with her back supported by the bed, sat Amara. She turned her head to face her, and Joan saw that in one hand she held a gleaming pair of scissors and in the other, a thick bundle of wavy hair that lay half scattered across the ground, blown around by the wind billowing into the room.
“You’re back,” Amara observed. Her gaze was as sharp and perceptive as ever.
Joan’s eyes rapidly scanned her, but there were no new injuries to make note of. The only change was her hair, which had been cropped short so that it sat in an uneven line below her chin.
All at once, the tension bled away and Joan slumped down.
“You cut your hair,” she said weakly. Her head throbbed, and she absentmindedly rubbed at it.
“Yeah.”
Joan released a long breath and slowly straightened. She closed her eyes for a moment, calming her rapid heart rate. When she spoke, she forced her voice to remain as still and calm as possible, though she couldn’t entirely mask the slight tremor in her voice.
“Amara, the next time you want to cut your hair or—or do anything, please tell me first. Please.”
Amara stared at her, quiet for a long time. She shifted her position, and for the first time since she’d woken up, something in her eyes changed.
“Okay,” she said.
—
It was a windy day. Joan shivered and pulled her cloak closer, but she didn’t remove her gaze from the figure walking just beside her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joan asked. Amara just nodded, not even turning to look her way, and Joan sighed and shook her head. She faced forward as well, eyes following the dirt path and remembering the last time she’d walked along it.
The closer they got to the ruins, the more Joan’s unease grew.
Amara had continued to heal at a rapid pace, and when she’d first started being able to walk around on her own, she constantly did so, moving with a silent, steady determination. The end result of that persistence had led them to their current situation, on the road to the ruins, Amara with only a few bandages left on her skin and walking by herself, albeit a bit slowly, and Joan, whose eyes kept darting over, watching for any reaction.
As far as she could tell, there were none. Amara moved with remarkable calm, shoulders relaxed and eyes steady.
Joan exhaled and kept walking. Ever since the scissors incident, as Joan had dubbed it in her head, Amara had started speaking more. She was still mostly quiet, but she seemed a little more engaged, more interested in her surroundings. She’d even requested Joan teach her how to read, after Joan had given her a tour of her little home and shown her the library. When Amara was sitting there quietly, listening as Joan taught her basic letters and spelling, Joan could almost tell herself that she was just an ordinary, curious young woman if not for the array of scars on her skin. Joan had tried to heal them, but form magic couldn’t alter colors, and so the marks still lingered.
That near normalcy, however, was where the doubts had begun. Initially she’d assumed Amara wanted to see the ruins to give her closure so that she could move on, but what if it had the opposite effect? Joan wasn’t a fool, she knew Amara’s behavior was in no way normal. She had to be repressing things, or perhaps the truth hadn’t really settled yet. What if seeing the ruins caused her to break down?
The longer they walked, the more the doubts grew. Joan quickly became lost in her thoughts, so much so that she didn’t immediately notice when they stopped walking
“Which way?”
Joan blinked and looked up, seeing that they’d reached a familiar fork in the road. Her heart sank and she swallowed. “Left,” she said, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. “It… it’s just past that hill.”
Amara nodded and turned without hesitation, slowly making her way up the slight incline in a steady rhythm. Another breeze blew past them, carrying scattered tree leaves with it. Joan watched Amara reach the hill top and begin descending until she’d disappeared from view.
Joan stared at the path, limbs suddenly heavy. She tightened her grip on her cloak.
“Get it together,” she muttered. There was no reason for her to be so nervous, she told herself. It was absurd, after all the things she’d already seen throughout her life. But Amara had an uncanny ability to make her feel like a lost child again, someone completely out of her depth.
Joan waited a little longer, listening for any sounds, but there were none besides the wind and rustling flora surrounding them. And so, after a deep breath, Joan lowered her head and made her way over the hill.
When she looked up again, the ruins were in sight. She slowed her pace as she approached.
Where once a simple sturdy grey building had stood, there now lay a pile of debris. Only the bottom sections of the buildings remained standing, jutting out from the ground like broken blades. Charred, splintered wood lay strewn about the grass, and large chunks of shattered stone formed crude boulders.
Surrounding the ruins, colorful blossoms grew in bright patches. Originally someone had suggested burying the bodies—at least the ones they’d been able to recover—there. But Joan had shuddered at the thought of forcing the experiment victims to rest eternally near the broken facility, so she’d requested they move them to Winrow’s graveyard instead. Thankfully people hadn’t questioned her, though the move in the burial site hadn’t stopped people from planting flowers around the area as a memorial.
Joan’s eyes scanned the ruins, finally landing on a single figure standing just in front of the collapsed building. Slowly, Joan approached until she was a few feet away, her footsteps crunching as she stepped over debris.
Amara’s back was turned to her. She didn’t move, simply standing there staring at the destruction before her. The wind blew her now short wavy hair against her neck, and her cloak billowed. The movement caught Joan’s eye, and she caught a glimpse of Amara’s hands hanging at her sides, balled into tight fists that shook barely perceptibly.
Joan opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. Hesitant, she took another step forward.
And then, all at once, the trembling stopped. Slowly, Amara’s fingers loosened, uncurling themselves until they hung limply at her sides. She raised her head, lifting her face towards the deep blue sky. Joan saw her whole body breathe as another wind blew past them, as though she was trying to fill her lungs with as much air as possible.
A few seconds passed, and Amara’s shoulders fell as she exhaled. Her head lowered back down to eye level, and slowly, she turned around.
Strands of hair lay strewn haphazardly against her face, mussed and twisted by the wind. Her posture was perfectly relaxed and casual, not a trace of tension in sight. The scars running up her arms seemed almost to move in the shifting shadows cast by her cloak. Her sharp eyes, a bright green that gleamed in the sunlight, were piercing.
But what caught Joan’s attention the most was her smile. It was bright, unreadable, and utterly unfamiliar.
“Joan,” Amara said, voice calm. “Let’s go back.”
​
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All of March and April (literally - February 28th-April 30th,) I went on a YUGE Resident Evil binge, re-playing REmakes 2 and 3 leading up to the release of REmake 4, which was fantastic. OG 4 still might be better, but I couldn't have asked for a better remake. I was disappointed with the lack of Saddler and complete omission of U3/It, though. And of course Separate Ways is gonna be a DLC. Also re-played a bit of RE5 and 6, which I don't think are as bad as people say. RE6 isn't a complete catastrophe, but it is unquestionably the main series' lowest point. Also replayed RE7 and Village, getting all the Mr. Everywhere's and goats of warding. Bought REmake 1 for $5.40 on the PSN store.
Continuing my first EVAR playthrough of the Final Fantasy series, I'm on 9 right now. It's not bad, but definitely off to a slower start than 6 and 7. Hopefully it picks up soon. Going to play X and XVI afterwards, might get to X-2 at some other point.
Don't think I've ever seen anybody here mention the great HBO show "Barry" created by and starring Bill Hader, which ended last week. Dark but conclusive finale, and the fact that it was only 4 seasons assured it never overstayed its welcome.
Pretty much done with season 5 of Modern Family, which is very good - dare I say great? - so far.
Rewatching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air with Will cuck Smith. Timeless show. It's been 10 years in December since it happened but it still sucks knowing Uncle Phil is gone.
The Flash ended its 9 season run on the CW - which also concluded the network's Arrowverse - with one of the worst final seasons of any show I've ever watched. That being said, I would like to see Grant Gustin replace that lunatic Ezra Miller in the new DC universe.
Watched the Ant-Man Trilogy over the weekend. The first was better than I remember and the best of the 3. Wasp was decent and about the same as I remember. Watched Quantumania for the first time and it was a slogging, rather dull mess apart from Kang.
Also watched Evil Dead Rise. It was decent enough, but I don't get why this series has such a huge cult following.
Listened to the Foo Fighters' new album "But Here We Are." Absolute banger, and not at all what I was expecting from them after the death of Taylor Hawkins. Metallica's new album "72 Seasons," on the other hand, was ass, so I'll see how it ages over time, and I'm also not one of those people that think Metallica hasn't been good since 1989 or whatever that stupid shit is.

Hey all, it’s me Frank Jones again. I wrote that post a while ago about why you shouldn’t be a paranormal investigator and a lot of you liked it. Since settling into my hideaway in the mountains, life has become quiet and I thought about checking in. The plague hit us like nothing and now that everyone is wanting to travel again, I thought to say hi. I want to say thanks to all of you who commented and gave me those weird pointy thingies this social media does. Some of you even figured out my post office box address and sent me letters. I appreciate it (and don’t do it again).
The common strain among your posts was wanting to know if I had ever encountered other things as an auditor. Of course I have but I have been reluctant to tell you because I don’t want to shine some sort of light on all of it or make it sound like some romantic adventure. It’s “pissing yourself” fear all wrapped up in a waking nightmare with a side of gory terror. I am one of the few who actually made it to retirement…if that’s what you could call this life I’m living now.
But, I have nothing else to do really. Carl only visits once in a while when he’s passing through and I cannot risk any other sort of company knowing I’ve pissed off a lot of people…and things. So, I’m back on this internet board and sharing. So many are curious, I thought maybe another story can scare you all straight. This was the first time complacency almost got me and another killed.
This story takes place somewhere in the 90s in a small New England town. It was one of those places nestled along the banks of a serene river, historic brick buildings line the winding streets, their facades adorned with weathered signs that hint at the town's seafaring heritage. A place where everything smelled like either the ocean or decaying fish. I’m not going to specifically name the town to protect the young lady that may still be living there but in the heart of the town, there’s a renowned drawbridge which stands as a testament to the place’s affinity for water. Its ancient mechanisms creak and groan when allowing vessels to pass through the calm waterway. It also had some of the best outdoor markets I had a chance to stop and check out.
I didn’t pass through this part of the country that often as my boss preferred me to do the long hauls across the country but there was a dead haul nobody wanted.I took it cause I wanted a change of scenery. I was already working as an auditor and part of a loose alliance of others who investigated and dealt with any weird things. I actually had a few monsters under my belt. I honestly had the foolhardy idea that I could handle anything out there. God, I was an idiot.
The supernatural never crossed my mind until that evening, stopping to fuel up my red 1992 Peterbilt 379 and paying for the gas with the attendant and restocking up on those beef jerky sticks and coffee.
That was when I noticed her. She was a young woman about in her mid 30s looking like one of the corporate types with the short hair cut and business suit. I would have not paid her any mind if it wasn’t for the touch of apprehension on her face as she talked on one of those new fangled bright yellow Nokia cellphones. Soft strands of chestnut hair framed her face, their gentle sway moving as she glanced around while talking on the phone. As I observed her, I couldn't help but notice the way her fingers trembled slightly, when trying to get money out of her pocket. I’ve seen that type of fear before. So, like a creep, I eavesdropped on her call.
“Yes, it happened again,” she had said as the nickels finally made it to the counter to pay for her snacks. “I could have sworn there was something outside the window near the edge of the forest….no, of course the security cameras didn’t pick up anything. They’re cheap. Ronald was a skinflint when it came to things like this. Hope he’s rotting in hell wherever he is.”
My mind began to drift away, more annoyed I couldn’t get a move on it. It sounded like a problem for the police and if anything, I was gonna tell her that. It was what she said next that made me stop and brought back the reality of the world.
“Yeah. like nine or ten feet tall. I’m thinking kids are playing around with scarecrows or something. Won’t come from the edge of the forest and when I check, I can see foot impressions and stuff. I already put in a call to the cops. They found nothing.“
“Did it sway a bit and its eyes seem to glint like a cats or owl?” I asked without thinking.
The look I got from both her and the gas attendant made me realize what I had done. Well, too late now.
“I’ll call you back,” she said quickly, eyeing me as she hung up the phone and slipped it back into her purse.
“You need me to walk you to your car, ma’am?” the attendant asked, staring at me.
Of course, I forgot that The Truck Stop Killer had only been arrested a few years before.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, quickly gathering her stuff and making for the door. I slapped the one hundred and seventy bucks on the counter to pay for my diesel guzzler ignoring the change and followed her out but making sure to not move in a way that caused the teenager in the station to call the cops.
“Ma’am,” I called out to her and she turned to me while hurrying up her pace.
“I’ve got pepper spray. Stay away from me.”
“The thing in the woods. You could have sworn you smelled fresh dirt like mulch and it seemed to sway back and forth like it could not keep its balance.” I threw it out there in desperation.
She froze and turned to look at me. Eying me up and down as I kept my distance and angled to head towards my truck.
“How do you know?”
“I…uh…dealt with something like that before. On a job in Canada.”
“Who are you?” she asked, looking at my faded shirt and company logo. “A trucker?”
“I moonlight as a problem solver. Like an auditor of sorts.”
“Who is it?” she demanded, eyes still affixed to me and hand in her purse.
“Better question is ‘what is it?’,” I answered.
I have learned to pick up on the contempt and disbelief from people who hadn’t seen what I have. I was already being dismissed as a whack job.
“You have tracks on your porch you have written off as animals, especially if you own a dog. If you did own a dog, it’s missing. Cops told you it ran away. You got a garden?”
“Yes,” the certainty had started to leave her voice. “A walled garden.”
“And anytime you’re in there, you feel like you’re being watched.”
At that, her hand came out of her purse empty and she approached me with the fear I had seen in her eyes now on her face.
“How did you know?”
“I’d rather not explain out here,” I said sheepishly running my hand through my sandy brown hair that only started getting flecks of gray. “But you got a…pest problem.”
“And you can do something about it? I’ve had exterminators, cops, nature lovers…even a priest.”
“None of those won’t do you any good and I don’t want to scare ya but it’s more active which is not a good sign.”
For a few moments, I could see the indecision in her eyes. The desperate want to dismiss me as a lunatic but whatever she had heard or seen won over.
“Fine. You can follow me to the house.”
“Mind if I hitch a ride?”
The woman started but then looked at my truck. “Promise. I mean you no harm. I really think you’re in danger.”
That was when I found her name was Isabelle Walker.
We left my truck in long-term parking after she told the attendant that I was a long lost relative and that’s why the change of demeanor. I don’t know if he believed her but at that point, I don’t think he cared. I left my truck with its metallic frame standing tall and proud amidst the rows of other vehicles.
I did not realize how desperate this woman was until we got going on the road. I had loaded myself in the passenger seat after pulling out my military backpack from the war which I also used for my auditing services and tried to look as harmless as a man of my stature could.
For the first fifteen minutes of the drive, her focus was on the lonely road, those beautiful eyes darting to me anytime I shifted my weight. I didn’t want to scare her so it was her that spoke first.
“What is it?”
“I really don’t know but the people in my profession call it a Bone Walker.”
The nose crinkled in disbelief.
“Halloween is not for a few more months, Mister…”
“Jones. Frank Jones.”
The James Bond reference caused her to snort in amusement.
“I don’t know what to tell ya, ma’am, except I’ve dealt with some pretty scary things out there. Normally I’m never this forward as most people try to call the cops on me or dismiss me as a lunatic. I mean, I could be a lunatic but I know what I’ve seen.”
“And that is…?”
“You know. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves. They’re real. They’re not common but real nevertheless.”
“Really?”
There was still the disbelief in Isabelle’s voice but I grew to ignore things like this.
“Sure. I mean, think of all the things you experienced and be open to alternate answers.”
Isabelle was quiet for a few minutes and then sighed. “Either you are telling the truth or you're the biggest liar and I’m a fool that’s not going to live through this night.”
“I promise,” I tried to reassure her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
After a few more minutes and off the main highway, we approached her home. The large house stood resolute amidst the dense, ancient forest, its weathered exterior a testament to the passing of time. It was a grand structure, its imposing presence commanding attention. The sprawling estate exuded an air of mystery and faded grandeur, as if it held stories whispered through generations.
As we pulled in, the main house loomed before me, its facade adorned with intricate woodwork and worn stone. Ivy crept along the walls, weaving an emerald tapestry that hinted at the passage of years. The windows, framed by elegant yet slightly cracked panes, stared out into the world with a mixture of curiosity and melancholy.
To the side, a large shed stood detached from the main house, its weathered boards echoing tales of forgotten tools and lost endeavors. The wooden structure sagged under the weight of time, its roof covered in a patchwork quilt of moss. Inside, shadows danced amidst remnants of a bygone era, rusty equipment and dusty shelves attesting to the once-bustling activity that had long since ceased.
Not far from the shed, a family cemetery nestled amongst the ancient trees. Tombstones, adorned with intricate carvings and weathered inscriptions, dotted the landscape. The hallowed ground exuded a solemn tranquility, as if time stood still in reverence for those who rested eternally in its embrace. Wisps of fog clung to the grassy knolls, lending an ethereal quality to the sacred space.
At the far end of the property, an old walled garden stood as a testament to the house's former splendor. Once vibrant and lush, the garden now appeared overgrown and untamed. Stone paths meandered through a sea of tangled foliage, leading to hidden nooks and forgotten corners. Dilapidated stone benches, adorned with intricate carvings, sat scattered throughout the garden, silent witnesses to a time when laughter and conversation filled the air.
As I stood amidst the silence of the forest, the house, shed, cemetery, and walled garden formed a tapestry of history and mystery. They were a testament to the ebb and flow of life, the remnants of a bygone era that clung to the present. Within their weathered walls, secrets whispered and memories danced, waiting to be discovered by those who dared to venture into their enigmatic embrace.
“Great place to be haunted, huh?” she said with sarcasm. “My ex left it to me in the divorce. Was only going to be here long enough to sell it but no one wants it and my job wants me to move to this state anyway.”
“Where are you originally from?”
“California.”
“So, this is definitely a change of scenery for you,”
Isabelle only hummed back at me as she fumbled for her keys in the dying light of evening. I pulled my backpack closer to me as my eyes scanned the treeline where the shadows had begun to deepen. Nothing stood out against the silhouettes of ancient trees which was a good sign. I wasn’t too late.
Stepping through the weathered front door, I entered the interior of the old house, greeted by a mix of nostalgia and faded elegance. The air carried a hint of mustiness, a reminder of the countless years the house had to have witnessed. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, I could make out the clash between old decor and the modern furniture Isabelle had bought.
The foyer, adorned with a worn, threadbare rug. The walls, once adorned with portraits and intricate wallpaper, now bore the markings of time's passage. The wooden banister of the grand staircase, polished with use, creaked softly under my touch as we made our way towards the living room.
Moving further into the house, I found myself in a spacious living room. Large, ornate windows which would have allowed slivers of daylight to filter through the heavy velvet curtains. The walls were adorned with faded wallpaper. An aged fireplace, its stone mantle adorned with trinkets and old photographs, served as the heart of the room.
“You want some coffee?” Isabelle asked, throwing her keys on to the coffee table. I sat down on her couch and dropped my backpack on it with a clunk.
“Sure.”
“Sugar?”
“A lot.”
The kitchen light clicked on and I heard her moving about setting up the coffee pot. The adrenalin was now pumping through me as my mind raced. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail on what a Bone Walker is but it’s a creature that usually haunts the western coast. It being so far out east was strange. I pulled out my old gun bag and unrolled it. My Stevens Model 520-30 “Trench” shotgun was the first thing I reached for as I popped open the internal pouch holding he high flash shells I was glad I packed. It was the startled sound from Isabelle that made me quickly look up.
She stood there with my coffee, eyes locked on the shotgun in my hand. I slowly held up one of the cartridges I was planning to load.
“Flash powder shotgun shells. No load. Just makes a loud noise and a bright white light. What we’re facing lives in the shadows and hates light…normally,” I had heard stories that they could strike in the day but it was extremely rare. She didn’t need to know that.
“Oh,” was her quiet response. “Do…do I need a gun?”
“You know how to use one?”
“No.”
“Then it’ll do more harm than good. You got any flashlights?”
Isabelle nodded mutely, the gravity of the situation sinking in at the array of weapons and items in my pack laid out in front of her.
“Go get them.”
While she was gone, I quickly unloaded the silver bullets out of my Makarov pistol (a gift from a Viet Cong officer and a story for another time) and placed normal 9mm rounds in the clip. I had it holstered under my jacket with the two back up clips when she returned with three cheap flashlights.
“One in your hand and one in your pocket.”
“Why?”
“In case you drop the one you are holding.”
The woman obeyed silently.
As night fell quickly around us, I slung my shotgun over my shoulder and with Isabelle close, we made our way upstairs. There were tell tale signs I needed to check as the only advantage I had over this thing was the fact it stuck to a pattern. If it was at the stage I thought it was, there would be signs.
“Which room is yours?” I asked.
Isabelle pointed to a door down the hallway across from a large window. Approaching it, I quickly shined my flashlight at the mahogany door frame. It was the glint that caught my eye. Deep gouges in the wood.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Claw marks,” I responded. There was no use sugar coating anything now.
“This thing was in my house?” Isabelle said horrified.
“For the last few weeks now,” I said, my nose picking up the faint odor of dirt and mud.
“Why didn’t it attack me then?”
“It wasn’t time.”
“What?”
Talking was going to be the only thing to keep her focused. I had felt the world shift a bit as night fell and I needed her not to panic.
“Bone Walkers are ritualistic creatures. They are very choosy over their prey. It can take a month or two before they move in. That’s why they are so hard to catch.”
“Criteria? Like what?”
“We don’t know.”
That was the honest truth. The only reason we knew their existence and patterns was thanks to blind luck and people surviving their encounters. I showed my light around looking for other signs. Discolored stains in the corners where shadows would naturally form, healthy moss and mold that shouldn’t be there. I found a patch around her bed. She did not notice and I did not want to tell her that it probably stood over her through the night watching her sleep. The sooner I buried this thing, the better.
“Frank!”
There was a trill of terror in Isabelle’s voice and I immediately looked to where she was. The woman was standing by her bedroom window staring out at something. I quickly moved and spotted what she saw. In the forest, at the edge of the shadow cast by the moonlight was an almost, imperceptible form. It stood nine feet, hunched over like a broken scarecrow, its owl like eyes staring back at us.
“Shit,” I muttered. Thank god we had turned on the lights as we went.
It was the flash of light and the crack of thunder that heralded the arrival of the storm. The lights of this old houses flickered which caused my belly to flop a few times. My brain was on fire as I glanced back from the lightbulb to where the creature was and found it had vanished.
“Where did it go?”
I did not have time to explain as another crack of lightning caused the lights to dim. I grabbed Isabelle roughly by the arm and yanked her back down the hallway towards the living room where I had left my stuff. We barely made it to the living room when the lights dimmed low. I grasped the glow sticks out of the bag, cracked a handful and scattered them about, their bright yellow light beginning to glow. The power then went out bathing us only in the eerie glow of the emergency lighting.
As we waited in breathless anticipation, the storm struck, its wrath manifesting in torrential rain. The mansion seemed to respond, succumbing to a power outage that plunged us into an abyss of blackness only moments before.
A trill of terror coursed through me. I knew this Bone Walker thrived in darkness, using it as a cloak to conceal its malevolence. We auditors were not sure if it actually teleported or it preferred to move in pitch darkness. I just knew that the black was our biggest threat.
For a few moments, we could only hear the ragged breathing of the two of us being drowned out by the pounding rain against shingle and glass. Isabelle had wound her hand into my jacket pocket and was gripping it tightly, I could feel her shaking with terror. I kept my shotgun gripped tightly in my hand listening for the tell tale sound of its arrival.
It was the movement out of the corner of my eye and the fact her grip got tighter on my jacket. I swiftly turned on my high-powered flashlight as I spun around and the brilliant beam pierced the obscure corner of the room. No matter what I had read or seen before did not prepare me for what I saw.
It stood there in the corner, its eight foot height engulfing that section of the house. My eyes strained as it appeared the thing was struggling to stay in focus. Its arms were too long for its body, spindly and almost to the floor while the legs appeared backwards giving it a strange forward leaning look. It wore a hunter’s long coat and trousers but through the rips and tears I could make out something squirming and moving underneath. The air filled with the stench of decaying plants and diseased vegetation. Its face was covered with what looked like the remnants of a cheap bandanna but its owl-like eyes gleaned back with malevolence.
Isabelle whimpered, her fear palpable in the room and the Bone Walker lunged toward us. Even though my fear was ripping through me like an unstoppable train, I had the sense to pull the trigger of my shotgun aimed in its direction. The flash and resounding roar painted the entire room in a brilliant black and white shadow causing every corner and edge to appear thick and vivid. The creature screamed and fell to the side into the shadow not illuminated by the weapon’s fire.
Isabelle had thrown herself on the couch and was huddled there, trembling with terror, while I moved quickly to crack a few more glow sticks and toss them into the dark corners of the room. In one, I saw its foot recoil back into the kitchen where it was darker than night itself. This was quicker than I had anticipated. The plans I had been formulating on the drive were no longer viable. I wanted to lure it to where I controlled the battlefield but that was not an option anymore. This had become a cat and mouse game and I knew this was with a predator I could not even hope to understand and had years to hone.
Out of the kitchen again this thing charged forward, relentless in its pursuit, it was trying to find a way around my light barrier which only appeared to slow it down. With shaking hands, I fired several more rounds, each blast forcing the creature to retreat and the girl to scream in terror. As soon as it retreated to a dark part of the house, I turned to where the woman of the house had been. To my horror, Isabelle's fear had gotten the best of her. In that moment of panic, she darted from the safety of the light, towards the hallway and the door outside.
“Isabelle! Stop!” I yelled trying to command her back with my voice but I doubted she heard me. Between the abject horror and the relentless rain, she was going to take her chance. A chance I knew she did not have.
I only took a step when I sensed it. The musty smell of an organic landfill overwhelmed me as the form silently darted past me, its long arm clobbering me up the side of the head. The world spun as pain burst through my brain. I felt the world tilt and fall heavily to the ground, flashlight and shotgun falling away.
As I slipped in and out of consciousness, I knew I was a sitting duck for this thing. There was no way for me to stop it from ripping me to shreds like some of the corpses I had seen. As I blinked, I came to my senses and realized I was alone. How long I had actually been on the ground, I did not know.
I sat up, my head pounding and I could see the door hanging open, the wind slamming the door on its hinges and the rain soaking the hallway floor. Struggling, I found my flashlight and gun and pulled myself together.
There was a slim chance that Isabelle was still alive. I had to think. Where would it go? I ran all the stories I could think of and then it hit me. The garden. The walled garden.
I charged into the rain-soaked night. I sprinted toward the enclosed garden at the edge of the property. As I grew closer, I saw that the rusted door was open and hope flickered in my soul. As I came to a stop, I brought my flashlight up again with my shotgun and saw it.
This creature stood there in the middle of the overgrown garden, its massive clawed hand wrapped around Isabelle’s chest and holding her up. Out from under its bandanna mask, putrid vines had appeared and led up to Isabelle’s face where they were forcing their way down her throat and up her nose. I could see the wide terror in her eyes as vines were snaking their way around her waist and I did not want to think about what they were planning to do.
I brought up the shotgun again and fired. Knowing that I had distance, the flash of light caught the creature by surprise. It shrieked as it fell back. Trying desperately not to release its prey. I did not hesitate to grab the machete at my side and hack at its arm until Isabelle fell down free of it.
It’s claw swiped at me striking me on the leg and easily tearing through my pants leaving bloody lacerations but I put the weapon point blank and fired another round. I do not know if it was the flash, the combination of the creature, or that the almighty above was looking out for me, but the creature caught ablaze from the spark.
It fell back swinging wildly as the fire spread unnaturally fast catching the plants around it on fire. Within a matter of seconds, the walled garden had become ablaze with the bone walker in the center. As I ripped the vines out of Isabelle’s mouth and dragged her towards the door, I looked up to see those owl-like eyes looking at me with such abject hatred that the look stick with me today.
I honestly don’t know how we survived. I had helped Isabelle to her porch and we both passed out against our will from the sheer terror and exhaustion. We were awoken by the sound of a siren. The lights had come back on sometime in our sleep and the rain had drifted off to a comforting drizzle. The fire was still raging in the garden but contained by the ancient walls. At least two fire trucks, an ambulance and cops were flying up the private road towards us.
This entire hunt had been ill-planned and stupid. I knew it. As the cops approached with their hand on their pistols, I knew that I had allowed my own ego to get in the way. I should have taken Isabelle somewhere else until I had done a proper reconnaissance. I shouldn’t have taken her home where it was waiting. And now, the cops were looking at two thoroughly soaked humans, one a trucker with a wound and a gun and a young lady in distress. I was pretty sure I was going to go to jail.
“Isabelle?” One of the cops and his voice caused her to sit up, relief washing over her.
“Derek!” she wailed. “We were attacked! In the garden!”
Another two cops that had arrived had taken off in that direction while Derek helped the girl up and took her towards the ambulance. The other cop with a comically large mustache looked at me with keen eyes, his hand still on his pistol, sergeant stripes glowing in the light.
“Attacked?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up slowly and keeping my hand away from the shotgun and trying not to show the one under my jacket. “Someone came after Mrs. Walker. They were in the garden.”
The cop watched me closely but there seemed to be a recognition in his eyes.
“You by any chance Frank Jones?”
My heart jumped and I must have looked startled as the cop’s face broke into a smile. To my relief, his hand fell away from his holstered sidearm.
“I’ll take that for a yes. My guess is you don’t remember me. Clay Wilson. Santa Fe PD, about six years ago. You helped my partner with a...problem. Nellie Nelson?”
I knew the name but the face escaped me.
“She told me you helped her audit a police union building.”
“Ah, yes,” I said, remembering dealing with the wraith and the twinge in my right arm from it’s bite.
The cop looked towards the fire that was slowly being put out by the fire fighters.
“Any chance this will be one of your audits?”
“Yeah.”
He seemed to think for a few minutes and then nodded.
“Then I think you need to grab that shotgun of yours and hitch a ride with me before too many people ask questions. Whatcha think?”
I nodded. I was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I collected my stuff quickly from the living room and made my way back out where he was waiting. As I limped with the cop to his car, I looked towards Isabelle who was being held by the other. She gave me a look of thankfulness as the cop looked at his partner with confusion.
“Her brother’s got her,” Clay said, opening the back door for me. I was not gonna argue or fight. If he took me to jail or not.
And that was it. My leg was not as bad off as I thought and wrapped it in the back of the police car. Clay only asked where I wanted to go and he took me back to my truck. With that time, I was back on the road with that small town in the rear view mirror.
I never did find out what happened to Isabelle after that, if another creature came looking for her or if she had a chance to live in peace. I just knew that we both barely made it out alive and that was due to my own stupidity. I was furious with myself for weeks after that and told myself I wouldn’t put another person in jeopardy like that again. At least, despite my idiocy, another life was saved and another monster was put in the ground...I hoped. I never did find out if they found a body.

I’m not sure exposure would work here since by looking closely and examining my body I am contributing to the downward spiral and obsessions.
I’ve had this fixation for as long as I can remember; I used to stare at myself in the mirror when I was around 5 and find “flaws” to obsess over until it drove me absolutely insane and consumed my every thought. I learned to not look too closely at myself and I started using fashion as an outlet. However, whenever my body changes it triggers me. I zone in on changes without trying, and the need to examine and fixate is overwhelming. It causes a kind of fear response in me, so my brain thinks I need it for survival.
This process makes me an anxious wreck and seems unending despite what I do. I eventually fall into a depressive/dissociative state. It’s happened notably several times in my lifetime and seem to coincide with stages in life.
This new one I’m experiencing has been since January, and it started out as me noticing changes on my skin, especially on my face. There is a patch of skin that is especially concerning, and it’s been eating me alive trying to get it resolved. I’ve been to all kinds of doctors, tried different skin routines, makeup, therapy, paying attention to it/not paying attention to it, every kind of treatment you can think of and more. I even started doing some manic, far-reaching things such as buying expensive machines like a humidifier and air purifier, and staying in different climates and other peoples houses to see if it improves. It’s actually been consuming me, and every action, decision and thought I’ve had… for 5 months… I’m seriously close to losing my mind. Nothing has helped. I’m about to either end it all or check myself into a facility.
Whenever I’m able to distract myself for a whole day and not look at it, I seem to have a better time. But usually at night it will hit me and the fixation I’ve been holding off floods over me and I give into it. I always feel kind of bad for not paying attention to it because it feels like I don’t care or I’m neglecting myself. Even tho I literally have appointments with different doctors, specialists, etc nearly every week.
I’m starting to feel insane, and like no one cares about it and I’m just helpless and hopeless. I don’t know how to live with this. How am I supposed to not look at myself ever again?? I’m considering tattooing the majority of my body so I never have to see my skin clearly again. Maybe it’d be a distraction. Also if I’m going to look weird and I may as well give people something fun to look at and make it a persona.
I’m just desperate for this to stop, and I don’t know how to get there.

Maybe I am in the wrong. But I’m done. Too much sickness and selfishness going around.
I’ve been sick with long Covid for 11 months now. I’m slowly improving but it’s been a very tough battle. I might have some scars left that will never heal. I lost my engineering job and my spot to go to the Air Force Reserves. I was completely destroyed since my siblings and I grew up in an abusive household and I didn’t even think I would make it this far in life. My accomplishments in life are all I have. My family is all I have. My mother has an autoimmune disease and needs all the help she can get when she gets super sick or lands in the hospital. It was super tough to see her fighting for her life twice in the hospital while I was fighting long Covid myself and was very limited to what I could do to help her. My brother and sister live with my mom in a house I was able to put in a down payment on and get the loan. At 578 a month it was the cheapest I could get for a 3 bedroom. My brother is 23 but refuses to work because working makes him “anxious and depressed”. Wow… literally all of us. I told him if he couldn’t work to provide for himself then he needed to leave. He still lives there doing nothing all day. My sister is in college and this summer she wants to have an internship an hour away even though she has no car and has no experience driving on a busy highway where there are way too many accidents to count. So I told her to scrap it for this summer and try getting a summer internship closer to home or try for another summer getting that same internship when things weren’t so crazy. She got upset and agreed. However, she later turned around and applied to the internship anyway and told me about it. Of course I got upset with her and told her why. 1.) she needs to practice more to drive in a highway like that before she commits. 2.) she should focus on trying to get the car she needs in the first place 3.) the timing with everything going on is terrible and it adds more stress to the situation. Mom needing more help around the house since I can’t help her like I used to. She didn’t care and said she would do it no matter what happened even if she got in an accident. Of course, we had our falling out and haven’t talked since. Over the years I have bent over backwards for her to get her what she wants but in doing so she has learned to not take a no as an answer even if it harms someone else. I have also noticed that little things I get compliments for (my long wavy “mermaid” hair) she tries to copy and if someone else has something she likes she goes out of her way to buy something similar. When someone suggested a certain hair product to me, she went to buy it for herself. At first it didn’t bother me, but with the years she kept doing things like that and it got annoying. Long story short, I now see her as selfish and a low key jealous individual. My brother just wants every excuse to be lazy and then blame it on every one else. Yes, I have my faults but I no longer want to associate with them. My sister tried to patch things up and I refused. I told her “you made your choice so I’m Making mine.” Call me childish but with long Covid and my mom being this sick my priority is family and this just broke me. I no longer want a relationship with them and will only do things for my mom from now on.

1. Porsche 718

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.5839041,-83.2444932,3a,16.1y,62.25h,86.3t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sj5vDx1l-V-SudFrfism_DA!2e0!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

1. 1930s (I think it's a Ford?)

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.5820404,-83.2434764,3a,15y,136.93h,85.49t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sEzHuXHT0A8VAqtZUD7-eOQ!2e0!5s20220801T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

1. Stock EG Honda Civic (92-95)

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.546648,-83.2159059,3a,31.7y,66.11h,79.03t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sOXsXvTfRZTnaZs6z2VEziw!2e0!5s20070901T000000!7i3328!8i1664?entry=ttu

1. 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.54668,-83.214275,3a,15.1y,161.89h,85.55t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s0EeV4vBRhjZ6rZGtSSaDIA!2e0!5s20190801T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

1. Matte OD Green Range Rover Sport (wrap already fading?)

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.5474279,-83.2140916,3a,20.9y,245.48h,79.65t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sjyLSnJDovuqVQLT9fh5PBA!2e0!5s20211101T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

1. C4 Corvette (1991-1996)

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.548851,-83.2161007,3a,15y,338.7h,83.63t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sTvCyRyLUIA_UmL4LiYm9mg!2e0!5s20211101T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

1. Lexus RC

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.5496296,-83.2168317,3a,18.9y,45.68h,78.54t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1s863qIUalzZ8Z4UPXZYDJzA!2e0!5s20170801T000000!7i13312!8i6656?entry=ttu

1. Mercedes G550

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.5505014,-83.2174359,3a,58.7y,68.78h,65.82t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sePg_Y67nbs-D9ZsM20YLsg!2e0!5s20170801T000000!7i13312!8i6656?entry=ttu

1. Lincoln Town Car (1995-1997)

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.545442,-83.2115104,3a,17.1y,139.74h,84.26t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sebA-4lK4TOtqs9GXUGwpNQ!2e0!5s20190601T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

1. Mercedes AMG GT-S

https://www.google.com/maps/@42.5454107,-83.2109782,3a,18.8y,96.24h,80.2t/data=!3m7!1e1!3m5!1sQ0-1qUTvIe6Oq56JQsCrpA!2e0!5s20180801T000000!7i16384!8i8192?entry=ttu

timestamped tagged photos here: https://imgur.com/a/t0UQdxs
I love these clothes but have to move and need the money.
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Stone Island Retro Shorts (black) M$25
FOG Essentials (khaki) S$25Fits like Medium
Pants bundle $75
Dime Blue Jeans SSOLD
Off White Black Skinny Jeans 29x32$25Patch on back is falling off, needs stitching
Polo Ralph Lauren Khakis (Retail) 31x30$25
Sicko Born From Pain Tee (gray) M$20Fits like a large
Shoe Bundle $160
New Balance 2002R Protection Pack (Rain Cloud)44 EU$60Like new (worn 2-3 times)
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First, Next
​
Chun shuffled in her chair, she was only a mortal boar-kin, why did she have the misfortune of taking the hidden master up to his room. Now this Mei of the Iron Paw sect had cornered her in the Inn when she arrived for the morning shift.
Mei shoveled rice into her mouth from an oversized bowl as she spoke, “Tell me exactly what happened last night when you led the hidden master to his room. I want to know everything you know about him.”
Again Chun shuffled, “I actually met him before that, he was alone at the table near the exit. It was odd because everyone tries to move to the kang to keep warm, but this man simply sat at his table as though the cold meant nothing to him.”
Mei stopped eating, “He was here while we were eating? What was he doing?” She demanded.Chun recoiled a bit, “He just seemed to be watching everyone, including your table. When I brought him his food and drink I warned him to stop staring or he would draw someone’s wrath upon him.”
Mei nodded, if she couldn’t sense him, she obviously couldn’t expect a mere mortal to know what they were dealing with. “What did he do after that?”
Chun took a deep breath, “He seemed to just sit there and eat his meal until the warning bell sounded. When you and your sisters left he asked me how much he owed, dropped coins on the table and left the inn. I didn’t see him again until after the battle.”
Mei sat back and thought, “He paid for his meal you say?”
Chun nodded, “He didn’t even complain or haggle, he simply dropped the coins as if they were nothing and walked out. Huang has told me not to accept payment if he asks when he comes down this morning.”
Mei nodded, “A wise choice, now that he is no longer hidden he may decide to toy with you, it is best for you to play along.”
Chun looked around the inn as customers started to come in for breakfast, it was still early, the sun had barely breached the horizon.
Mei sighed, “Bring me another bowl of porridge, I will await the hidden master, his name was Cain, correct.”
Chun stood quickly before bowing, “He stated his name was Victor Cane, Mistress Mei.”
Mei sat back in her chair and shoo’ed the boar-kin mortal away. Her sisters had taken shifts to ensure from a distance the hidden master had not left. More information on this male was needed, and she expected to gather it for her sect.
She would already be renown for the twenty two instinctual cultivators slain here yesterday, particularly as she had only lost 7 sisters. Three to one was not a feat to be trifled with when it came to instinctuals. The problem was, at least ten of those were from this hidden master that she knew next to nothing about.
She would await him here, and eat her fill to replace her spent energies.
_________________________
DAILY MAINTENANCE COMPLETE
ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTIONAL
SUBSPACE LINK : NO CONNECTION
RADIO LINK : NO CONNECTION
POWER CORE : 100%
CAPACITOR CORE : 100%
TIME 0700
ACTIVATE WAKE UP ALARM
​
Victor slowly regained consciousness after sleeping like the dead. New gene-mod updates, transmat accident, small firefight with ware-wolves and one cute tiger lady had really kicked his ass. “Computer, turn off that damn alarm.”
He opened his helmet as he sat up from the horrible bed. He had never seen a mirror as poorly made as the one in front of him, maybe it was tarnished bronze? He recalled his scout drones and sent them to storage before reaching in and pulling out his overnight bag.
After washing his face in the not-too-clean sink and brushing his teeth he made his way to the chamber pot by the bed. After relieving himself he decided breakfast was in order. He put his overnight bag into dimensional storage and made his way downstairs to the inn proper.
As he slowly walked down the stairs, hoping the wood could hold his three hundred kilo weight a second time he noticed Mei sitting at the same table as the night before. As usual, the patrons around them gave her a wide berth. Well, judging by the way Mei’s eyes never left him he assumed she wanted to talk to him.
“Hello Mei, how are you doing this morning? He asked innocently enough.
She looked at him stone faced, “I spent most of the night burying my sect sisters, then caught a few hours sleep while we waited for you to wake up.” She stated as she crossed her arms.
Well, this was more new information, evidently there was some camaraderie within the sects. He wasn’t sure of that until now. Evidently cultivators do care for each other, if they care little or nothing for the average peasant.
Victor decided it was best to seem the aloof master rather than the bumbling fool he obviously was and change course, “Chun, could you bring me whatever you have for breakfast, oh, and some more of that wine!”
Mei’s eyes flared at Victor, if looks could kill he’d be scorched right now, “Who are you? I just reminded you that 7 of my sect sisters were buried last night and you call to a mortal for food?”
Victor turned back to her, his officer face was back on again, “Is this your first war Mei?”
Mei sat back and batted her cup back and forth in her hands as she looked down at the table, “Yes, while I’m older than some of my sisters, war hasn’t visited the Celestial Empire in decades, if not centuries.”
Victor reached out a hand and placed it over one of Mei’s. She froze at his touch, a male cultivator touched her, a lowly cultivator of the second tier. “This is not mine, I have lost count of the small fire-fights and battles I’ve been a part of of my last twenty years. Or the soldiers I have lost.”
Mei blinked, fire-fights, like what he did last night was considered small, she had never seen creatures burn like that, wait, did he say the last twenty years. She cleared her throat, “Um, please excuse this lower cultivators curiosity, but you have been in battles for the last twenty years? You look no older than I at twenty eight seasons, how is that possible?”
Victor removed his hand as Chun brought him a huge portion of porridge, rice, pork sausage, eggs and wine. He looked up to her as she bowed down, “Thank you Chun, you are dismissed. Yeah, I don’t age like other people. Actually, I don’t age at all.”
Chun turned on her heels and nearly sprinted back to the kitchen. She had gotten a small taste of Mei’s killing intent when she glared at the hidden master, while she nearly dropped to her knees, the master didn’t even seem to notice.
Victor popped one of the sausages into his mouth as he watched Mei nearly drop her jaw in astonishment. Victor pointed to his plate, “Would you like one? They are quite good.”
Mei shook her head, “You’re an immortal and you thanked that peasant? Do you care nothing for face?”
Victor looked back as he chewed, “Chun? Yeah, she works hard, least I can do is thank her for her efforts. Someone should do something about the turnips though, they are horrible.”
Mei crossed her arms, “I cannot tell if you are toying with me or not. You have an Imperial accent, one that requires training from birth, you fight as if you are a divinity, and you show appreciation to mortals?”
Victor shrugged, “I’m not a complicated man, I’m just passing through the Empire looking for a way home. Speaking of which, you mentioned the Eternal Empress, would you say she is the most powerful person in the land?”
Mei uncrossed her arms before leaning in, “You mean to tell me you don’t know about the Eternal Empress yet you are hundreds of li into her Empire?”
Victor mixed his eggs and sausage into his rice bowl and then looked despairingly down at the chop sticks. He reached into his dimensional storage and produced a spoon, which to Mei seemed to appear from nowhere and scooped out a portion before taking a bite and pointing at Mei with his spoon. “Well, it’s not grits, but it will do in a pinch. No, I don’t know about the Empress, that’s why I’m asking you, if anyone knows how to get me home it might be your Eternal Empress, so how do I get an audience with her?”
Mei sat back in her chair once more, holding the hand Victor had recently touched under the table, “That might be easier than you think, but you may not like the outcome. I sent ahead to my sect leader one town over and she will be using a calling stone to reach the Imperial Palace, I’m sure they will have questions about the foreigner who is also a hidden master.”
Victor stopped eating and sat back in his own chair, “Ah, you say I may not like the outcome, why is that?”
Mei shrugged, if he didn’t know how things worked she didn’t see the harm in telling him. “The Eternal Empress has been said to be a bit temperamental, particularly to foreigners entering her lands. Yes, she is said to be the wisest in the land, and many millennia old. Her magic defends this land and its people.”
Victor took another slow bite with his spoon, “So she may know how to get me home, or she may try to have me killed. No way to know until I meet her eh?”
Mei nodded before stopping, “Wait, you said she may try to have you killed, not that she would have you killed or kill you.”
Victor grinned at her, “Well, I’m not about to make it easy on her if she tries. Listen, I’ve got some things to get done, so in the mean time, here.” He then presented her with a silver bauble with a red gem in the center that dropped from nothingness into his hand. “Take this with you, and give it to the Empress, it will allow her to communicate with me no matter where I go.”
Mei stared at the piece of exquisite jewelry, it would be worth many fortunes over in the Celestial city, and he just handed it to her? “Wait, I can’t just let you leave, you are a foreigner in our lands, it is my duty to keep a watchful eye on you.”
Victor walked over to the bar where Huang looked nervous and dropped a large pile of copper coins before walking to the door.
Mei stood, kicking the chair behind her and stomped towards the exit only to see the hidden master take flight again on wings of fire. This time he did not stop at the bell tower, but continued to fly towards the mountains. “Damn that man to the divinities she shouted as even she lost sight of him in the clouds.”
______________________
“Activate camouflage mode.” Victor spoke into his helmet as his armor took on the the colors surrounding him. It wouldn’t fool anyone close up, but from the distance he was from the village now he doubted even the cultivators could make him out from the sky.
With any luck, Mei would get that communicator back to the Empress, who might know how to get him home. In the mean time though, he reached into his dimensional storage and brought out a satellite probe. He had used the full capacitor load on his jump jets and was still eighteen thousand meters up, more than enough for the probe to reach geosynchronous orbit.
After launching it he looked for a good patch of ground to land. He found one at the base of a mountain range, it even came with a mountain stream. Firing his retro-rockets he landed soft enough and sat on a particularly smooth boulder.
His heads up display showed him his probe had reached geosynchronous orbit and was gathering data. “Well, this is going to take some time.” He thought to himself as he ordered his AI to split his armor. To anyone else watching this would have probably been horrifying as the scout armor appeared to break apart and separate into two halves joined together by a hinge.
Victor took a sniff of himself and groaned, “Good thing the suit is sealed, being in that thing for almost two days and I am ripe!” He thought as he found a nice place in the woods to relieve himself in a way he couldn’t with his armor on.
After that he removed the boxers he wore in his scout armor and placed them on the boulder and stepped across the pebbled beach into the stream. He instantly regretted it, gene-mods or not, a mountain stream in the fall is still cold! After washing as best he could he walked back to his armor, reached into his dimensional storage, produced a towel and fresh boxers and dried off while sunning himself on his rock.
His AI sounded in his inner ear. IMMEDIATE AREA SURVEY COMPLETE.
He kicked off his boulder and climbed back into his now somewhat aired out armor and checked out the results. A mountain in this range was nearly perfect for his needs, abundant metal and mineral deposits, and a valley with a small but very useful petroleum reserve, as well as some natural gas deposits, although those were less than 6% on the scan.
Victor checked that his jump jets capacitor were sufficiently charged and set his jump vector for a somewhat flat ridge three quarters of the way up the mountain, just below the snow caps. Four minutes later, he landed, staring at a nearly sheer cliff face that raised up the mountain another 20 meters above him.
He reached into dimensional storage and retrieved a mining laser. These were a bit expensive, but necessary to start any good mining operation. Mining drones were not good at starting a mining shaft. Oh, it could be done, but it was usually done slowly and crudely. Best to set the aperture to four meters square and crank up the power.
The laser had a magazine of some miracle crystal that put out about ten seconds of power before it was exhausted and was then discarded. He squeezed the trigger and watched as the sheer rock face before him seemed to literally disintegrate as the shaft began to deepen to a depth of about four meters in.
The laser chimed and ejected the magazine as the barrel smoked from the immense heat it had just endured. Victor carefully sat down the mining laser and opened his dimensional storage once more to bring out four mining drones, two forge spiders, and four scout drones.
He set the mining drones to work digging into the mine shaft with gusto the seven dwarfs could never match. Then turned his attention to the scout drones, he sent them off in a patrol pattern to watch over the mountain for any sign of trespassers. Then he remembered the satellite and set it to watch over his piece of paradise as well.
He also thought about retracing his helmet but the temperature outside was just above freezing and decided it best to have a seat and wait a bit for the mining drones to get some work done. On a whim he checked his database, yup, there were 86 different versions of Snow White, might as well pick the Disney one from antiquity, he’d never seen it anyways.
One hour and twenty three minutes later the film was over, and his mining drones and forge spiders had deepened the shaft another five meters. A small pile of ingots had been dropped off by the spiders, the air around them giving off a small mirage effect from the heat they radiated.
Computer, have the nano-forge produce proper steel doors, tracts, motors, and security to cover the dimensions of this shaft. The AI took measurements, produced the adjusted prints, sent them to Victor for approval, then started crafting the necessary materials. Then Victor’s stomach growled.
Sighing, he went over to the pile of fresh ingots, some iron, some copper, others tin and silver.
Retracing his helm he found that although the temperature hovered around 2 degrees celsius, near the ingots it was quite a bit warmer, if you didn’t mind the metallic smell, which it didn’t. Reaching into dimensional storage he found his ration stash, while he had hoped this would be what he would use to fashion himself a life after he left the Imperial Guard, there was a chance he would never get home.
“Resources are there to be used.” He quoted to himself as he took a bite from a bar he hoped wasn’t made from corpo-starch, but as it had no ingredient list he had no way of knowing. Finishing his ration bar, the densely caloric and extremely nutrient bar would play havoc with his bowels later. He noted getting living quarters up soon would be a really good idea.
He slid his helm back into place, “Computer, have the mining drones level off and begin to dig a cavern to fit the small hab module in dimensional storage, have them oversize it by a meter on all sides, I want some clearance when I bring this out of storage.”
The AI complied and he watched his mini-map on his hud as the drones turned ninety degrees and started opening up a new cavern. A few minutes later, the computer chimed to let him know the doors were complete and ready for installation.
A good thing he had his scout armor, these doors were five centimeters thick and three meters high and wide. They weighed almost four tons a piece, which was right at the limit of what his power armor was capable of. Pulling out the necessary tools he installed the tracts above and below, then setup the motor controls before pulling the doors out of storage and setting them into the tracks.
After testing and adjustment he was satisfied that not only were they very secure, they even seemed to blend in well with the sheer cliff wall. “Not a bad job if I do say so myself.” Victor said as he began setting up production orders for ventilation, water drainage, and lighting with his AI to start construction while he waited for the chamber to be completed.
A full six hours later and several movies of varying degrees of watchfulness, his computer chimed letting him know the new cavern was complete and the mining drones were continuing their downward path towards the more dense metal reserves deeper in the mountain.
He stood, stretched his back, and ordered the massive steel doors to open, walking the gently sloping shaft down the ten meters to the new cavern. The walls were smooth and the entrance seemed just about right for the habitats air lock door to fit flush with the mining shaft.
A few minutes later and a loud bang as the habitat module appeared from dimensional space and then found that gravity existed again, slamming it the few centimeters to the floor of the cavern. “Oops!” Victor said to himself hoping he didn’t break anything.
Nothing appeared to be damaged, after all, these habs were basically mini-bunkers designed for anything from death worlds to deep space mining. Fifteen meters on each side and four meters high, it gave him an excellent respite from the world around him. Indoor plumbing, central heating and air, entertainment center, kitchen, bath, and a bed.
He entered the habitat and sealed the airlock to the mine shaft. The internal temperature of the hab read twenty one degrees celsius, so he shed his armor, placed it in the airlock rack and connected it to the habitat’s power and computer system before opening the inner airlock.
“Home sweet home, at least until I find a way back." Then he thought about it, would the Guard blame him for the transmat accident? Sure he lied about having anything on him in dimensional storage but he knew guys who smuggled things around all the time and something like this never happened to them. "Hope I don’t look at a court martial if I ever to get back home for going AWOL or some such bullshit.” He muttered as he headed for the shower. That mountain stream was freezing!
______________________
“What to you mean he flew away?” Shihan looked at Mei from across her desk.
Mei shifted uncomfortably in the rickety chair that sat across from the elder cultivator in front of her. The room was also cold, and Shihan had set the desk low so that she could sit on the kang and keep warm while others had to endure. “He said he had important matters to attend to and flew away on wings of fire.”
Shihan shook her head, “Lazy eggs, all of you. We lost seven Iron Paw warriors in your battle three days ago, and probably would have lost you all if not for this hidden master. I have reached out to the the sect mistress who will be informing the royal court at this weeks meeting with the Empress. Do you have anything else to report?”
Mei nodded and set the jeweled bauble on the desk in front of the elder sect leader, “The hidden master, Victor Cane presented me with this. He stated to give it to the Empress and they would be able to communicate no matter the distance.”
The older lady stared at the priceless looking item before slowly looking back up to Mei, “I feel no chi coming from this item, how could it possibly do what he says. Even our best calling stones can barely reach three hundred li, how could this tiny broach communicate anywhere?”
Mei had thought long on this, “I do not know mistress, however, I do know that not once did I feel any chi from this hidden master either. I believe it is his cultivation technique, as he must use near perfect yang energy to power his creations. Can you detect pure yang, head mistress?”
Shihan shook her head, “I cannot my student, for that is only in the realm of the highest levels of male cultivation, and to my knowledge, no male alive can use pure yang energy, hence why they are inherently weaker as they cultivate some yang and some yin, their meridians are out of balance.”
Mei nodded, this was the same conclusion she had reached as well, “I watched him create multiple items from thin air, some for weapons, one was a simple soup spoon, we know most men use their cultivation for crafting, perhaps this hidden master is so adept at it he uses pure yang energy that we simply cannot sense.”
Shihan’s eyes widened with the implications, “That means he would appear as just a normal mortal until he decided to act, just as he did in your report.” She then looked down at the silver jeweled broach that sat on the desk. “The craftsmanship of this object is superb, its gem is absolutely flawless, I have never seen silversmithing so pure. Were this not to be sent to the Empress its sale would keep the Iron Paw clans coffers full for seasons on end.”
She sighed, “No, we cannot abandon our duty, I will send this item to the Empress herself, and as this Victor Cane had entrusted you with it, I feel that you should be the one to deliver it to her yourself.”
Mei gasped before bowing, “I will not fail you head mistress.”
Shihan sat back on her cushions enjoying the warmth of the kang under her, “See to it that you do not, for the Empress does not take kindly to fools who waste her time.”

I have completed all of the main story and all of the side side quests. However, whenever I go back to the board in Ocean Avenue, the final three ‘Lost and Found’ quests never pop up. I have no clue which ones they are but I don’t know what to do from here. Below are the places that I’m missing them:
Bel-Air: 0/1 Venice Beach: 1/2 Ocean Avenue: 9/10
Does anyone have any advice for what I could do? Anything will help. Please and thank you.

I do love the house in Bel Air but it’s just so expensive to decorate‼️ Anyone got some favourites houses that aren’t bank breaking when decorating? :))

5/24 - I had a really really bad flare up. Along with my usual eczema patches - I woke up to small red dots that only continued to multiply/itch/burn. I frl lost all self esteem and was so lost, I kept scrolling through this Reddit page to see if anybody else has experienced this haha.
I have emailed my doctodermatologist and I’m still waiting for a response :( - luckily took matters into my own hands. I requested an allergy test. After researching, I think I either have/had: contact dermatitis OR rosacea.
Things I did: -took out scented beads + drying sheets from my laundry -got a dehumidifier -got a UV allergen vacuum cleaner > vacuumed my bed before I sleep -placed air purifier in my bedroom -only used cleanser (cerave hydrating) and moisturizer -stopped using makeup > SLOWLY introducing new “””eczema friendly””” products back into routine as I have too many events this month :(. Specifically invested in : saie, tower28
knock on wood ~ 10 days later, my red dots and rashes are completely gone, only light scars are present!!! i still have my usual eczema spots, but so so glad the bumps have disappeared.
***I am NOT a doctor and my method might not work for you - I just wanted to share how I was able to clear up this unknown allergy/eczema/rash attack.

Key visual novels are great for beginners and are usually very far removed from your typical complex visual novel. The atmosphere and characters they provide are also addicting! If you're interested, read further:
Recently, I found out that Kanon, Air, Clannad, and a bunch of other Key classics have been ported to the Switch with new graphics, as well as insanely useful features like being able to go back to previpus dialogue!
You can legally purchase them from sites like yesasia, or used a hacked switch and download them for free if you have no morals like me.
The Japanese fonts have been upgraded and are much more noticeable when compared to their PC counterparts, and it does seem unlikely that (and this is quite unfortunate) we will receive any PC versions with these upgrads. Clannad was actually released on Steam with the updates from the Switch port since Clannad was so popular, however no Japanese PC version if I recall corretly was sold or included so a steam user had to make a patch for the game using the Chinese version as a base (not even kidding.)
It is unlikely we will see the other Japanese Key games already ported to the switch getting a PC release as far as I can tell and it appears that most of them (especially Kanon) won't be receiving a western switch release.
Having said that, I think an on-the-go simplistic visual novel experience (with everything upgraded from the old pc versions) is truly one of the most thrilling experience to get motivated to do some Japanese study.
What are your thoughts on using these new visual novel ports? Have you ever used visual novels for studying on console? Most of us do 99% of our VN reading on PC but examining the aspects of console learning has gotten me super interested!

Juliet Menton whistled along to the chipper tunes emitted by the radio. She stomped on the gas, selected a higher gear and let the Suburban growl as it accelerated. Large pine trees and rocks zoomed past her, mist hanging in the damp, moist air. She halted at a t-junction, checking her map again though it was pointless as one of the signs at the junction clearly read Forks, 15 miles. Juliet huffed, turning the car in the direction the sign pointed. She rolled though down a window though turning up the heat, drawing the crisp cool Washington air deep into her lungs. The Suburban ventured in between another patch of trees, the radio tuning out crackling static as no signals managed penetrating the thick forests. Typical. Normally she would have easily found some local station to tune into. Juliet growled, shutting off the radio and switched her attention to the cassette player on the dash. She sunk a hand down into the glove box, retrieving a tape. Fingers drumming impatiently on the steer wheel, Juliet inserted the tape into the player and cranked up the volume. Seconds after, the unmistakable opening tunes of Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA croaked out and filled the car. Juliet snorted with a laugh. Perfect song for the occasion, after all she wasn’t in Canada any longer. She turned her gaze beyond the road, attempting to find something interesting to look while she drove. Only trees, rocks and hills meet her eyes, interrupted by a small creek occasionally. Honestly, it wasn’t any worse than the Saskatchewan prairie, only offering fields of oats, wheat and canola interlaced by stretch of unbroken grasslands. Her tongue ran across her eye teeth. She was undeniably thirsty. Stowed away in the trunk were a few bags of animal blood, some of it being deer and elk, other bags cow blood. Juliet closed her eyes, imagine the sweet irony liquid washing down her throat. Her eye teeth finally elongated, shaping into their proper curved, pointed form. she shook her head with annoyance and vanquished her thoughts, her fangs slowly retracting and becoming flat again. It was her father’s fault that she could not just go out and feed right now. He had insisted that she move somewhere and learn to control her desire to drink. Away from the lonesome farm that lay embraced by the fields and great plains. A gleeful smile crept onto her lips. At least she would not have run the deplorable swather in the summer nights with its broken-down air-conditioner that sucked canola pods, chaff and what else into the too often scorching cap. Juliet was much content with leaving that job to her brothers. Her father had built his farm away from humans. It kept them busy enough from journeying to the nearest town to feed. Buildings started to appear out of the low laying mist, mostly bungalows from the early 20th century. Juliet sighed, slowing down from fifty-five to thirty-five miles an hour as she entered the sleepy town. Forks, Washing was not much to look at, though that was compared to the only town, Juliet had ever been to, the town of Ravensfield. It was a small prarie town dotted with grain elevators and cattle merchants. Forks seemed to possess a gloomy gray tint. Perfect for Juliet though as her cool pale skin would likely go less noticed here. She turned down a street, attempting to find the local high school where she was to enroll. She adjusted the brown worn-out pilot jacket, her feet sweaty in her thick hiking boots

Things were exactly how they were described when Anina and her team landed on Zeroria. They had taken two days to prepare for this journey. They spent the first-day watching videos of the first settlers, the Reformers, and how they thought it was survivable for months. After that, they had all the details of how things went back then: Each day, the people of Eligius 2.0 documented their experience on the planet and sent the video to an Alpha station until one day — three months after they first landed — the people began to die. According to the last videos, the possible cause was the air.
Anina took a deep breath before she unstrapped herself from the seat. The other shuttle had landed four hours ago, and the team was waiting for them. Now that the second shuttle, Elegius 098, had landed, the Team A members were coming down off their shuttle and waving at them.
Their shuttle was called Eligius 098, and the other one was called Eligius 099. There were ten of them on each of the ships.
It was designed to survive an alien attack and move fast when chased. It was designed for exploration, too. It had a medical bay, a kitchen, a conference room, the flying patch where everyone would get strapped for flying, and bedrooms that could fit about a hundred people if they used bunk beds but fewer if a person had a room to themselves.
Anina smiled as she watched Candace get out of their shuttle. She was the medical practitioner on Team A, and Dr. Muhammad represented Team B. They had their simple instructions. They need to explore the planet, locate the ship used by the first humans, extract the resources they had with them, and return to Adventurer within seventy-two hours.
“Listen, up,” Parker said. He was standing already and holding a map on a piece of leather in his hand. “Our team is going to find the location of the Eligius 2.0, and we will return with everything we can find. I need the doctor and everyone else to come with me.”
Anina nodded to his instructions. Anina was the only one left to step out of her seat. Piloting the ship wasn’t a joke, after all. Her legs were still jerking. This was her first time landing a ship. Though she had Jerry as her partner, the experience was still wild.
“Anina,” Parker called. “You remain here, and we will go get the items.”
Anina frowned. She had come here to babysit the ship. “No, I’m coming,” she said.
Parker turned to face her fully. “We have two engineers on this ship. We can’t afford to let the two of you out there. It’s too risky.”
Anina glanced at Jerry and felt sad. First, it was because she was a woman. It was because she was still an amateur at piloting the shuttle.
“I will stay,” Jerry intervened. He sat back down and nodded. “You go,” he said to Anina.
“Thank you,” she managed to say with a smile.
Parker glanced at both Anina’s and Jerry’s faces. He wanted to protest but changed his mind and shrugged. “Now listen up,” he said, “Confirm your suits are intact. Your oxygen tank. Before we head out there, you should be sure you are not open to breathing….” As he spoke, he checked himself, looking at all the signals on his wristwatch.
Anina checked her watch, too. Each of the things she needed to check was displayed. The device’s main screen showed the state of her oxygen and mask. When she clicked the button on the side, the watch showed another interface, displaying her location and temperature and what direction would lead to a drop or an increase in temperature.
The temperature inside the shuttle was average at 27°C.
Anina glanced at the inner corner of the Space Shuttle, which showed the outside temperature as — 184 °C.
After the checking, they all joined three cars. Parker and Christian first walked out to see the exterior, then returned to the ship’s garage and stepped into the cybertrucks.
The cyber trucks were cars with super-powered engines. They mainly relied on solar energy from batteries. As said in the years before, they were designed to survive alien attacks. So they were bulletproof. Throwing heavy objects wouldn’t produce any worse damage besides the sound of a heavy object hitting the stainless steel used in creating their bodies.
Anina sat in the back seat of the first car that led the way out of the shuttle with four people in it — Parker, Hernandez, Anina, and another man called Christian, who drove the vehicle. They went in the north direction. First, they would check the ship that had been abandoned for a hundred years. The last humans had a home, too. They would check it and make videos of the situation. Then, they would fetch everything they could get into their cyber trucks. They were meant to bring back parts of the Eligius 2.0 machine, deposits of extracted minerals, recorded research on the extractions, and possibly plant samples. Anina extremely doubted there would be foodstuff, but it could be possible if they were well-preserved and the solar power had kept the machine working for that long.
On the other hand, Team A headed south of the spot they had landed while Anina’s team headed north. Christian was driving while Hernandez and Anina were in the rear seat.
The landscape was a vast plain land of snow and smoke. In the distance, you could see large or tall walls of snow. Some were long and giant and hid the landscape behind them. Parker held onto the map and read it, holding onto the iPad, which had the same video of the first humans on this planet, the same video everyone watched before starting this journey.
After some minutes of driving, Parker got up, opened the top of the cyber truck, and launched a drone. Anina brought out her Ipad from my bag and watched the drone’s direction on the screen.
Everything looked the same. There were hills and mountains all covered in snow. No sign of plants or trees. This place could have been a desert in previous years. But according to the stories, it was the snow that changed everything. The plants and trees would die in the winter and return in the spring. It would only take a week or less for a land area to be filled with trees and bushes.
They continued for an hour or two, driving up and down hills, navigating around rocks and frozen waterscape. They went between gorges and under dark tunnels.
“We are close,” Parker announced two hours later.
Anina stared at the screen again to see what he was talking about, but she couldn’t see anything that showed they were close. There was nothing to show signs that humans ever existed here. The only movement was small blocks of snow falling off from the top of giant or snow-molded rocks. She looked up at Parker and saw him holding onto a telescope.
“Turn left and maintain the lane,” he commanded.
Anina glanced at the front of the car. There were metal pegs with white and yellow and white colored bottoms. These were the ideas they used years back to guide people on which parts to follow and which ones were dangerous. Yellow and white bottom pegs were signs to show it was safe to follow this part.
The cyber truck kept going and drove past the first peg. Then, they came across the next one on the other side of the car. Great. It meant they were on track. The longer they moved, the more pegs they came across. Then gradually, they came to the location of the first humans.
An abandoned ship was there; some feet away was a cave with the USA flag under the entrance.
The cyber truck stopped, and Anina and the other occupant exited the vehicle. It was the first time she stepped out of the car and set foot on the ground. She wasn’t expecting it to be this smooth when she looked down. It wasn’t snowing anymore. Instead, it was like walking on a smooth, slippery, hard glass floor. She was tempted to kneel and tap on it. But this was expected. Everything could freeze this hard if the temperature were slightly above -200 degrees.
Parker came down, too, and the other cyber trucks parked around them in a circle. The occupants of the other vehicles descended, too, and came around in front of the spaceship.
“Listen. Two of us will go into the spaceship to see what’s inside. You wait for our command,” Parker said.
Anina nodded. They all lined in two lines and waited for some feet away from the ship. Its name was Elegius 2.0. It had been abandoned for too long and looked out of shape. It probably used old systems, designs, and machines. Even if it worked, no one could fly it in this group. Not Jerry, not herself. They would need another tutorial to understand it.
Most of the body was covered in heavy snow. Unless they could melt those things, there was no way they could move this ship with the load of ice on it.
“Team A, come in,” Parker commanded through the radio.
Anina started walking into the spaceship that second. She got to the entrance and climbed in through the stairs. She walked through the corridor and some doors and headed to the cockpit. As she went further, it became a lot darker. She turned the lights on on her suit. The light on her glass helmet turned on so she could see better. The suit had other sources of light behind and all over the body. It was a brown colored suit, but with the lights on, it was glowing with yellowish lights.
She got to the door of the pilot control area, pushed the door open, and there, she saw dead devices with cracked screens. She saw abandoned clothes hung on the side of the chamber with name tags. She walked carefully and towards the front. She had read about Eligius 1.0 and 2.0, but it was brief. When she was learning about spaceships, her tutor taught her about Eligius 2.0. She could sit in one of these machines and try her hands at it.
She strolled around the front. She noticed a red light indicator, which showed the red blinking light. The battery was in good condition. She smiled, moved her hand around, and read each button’s description. It differed greatly from their modern version, the new Eligius 098. But it was a lot bigger and required more skills. The modern version was programmed and could maneuver itself when the weather was calm, stable, and predictable, but the Elegius 2.0 wouldn’t.
But who knows? She hadn’t tried one.
She knew the start button, the one in red. It was a lot bigger than the others, and the power sign was on it. She knew it. She wanted to press it.
She did.
The light came on everywhere on the ship.
She smiled, feeling proud of herself. Then, she looked around as the area became bright and lit; everything with an electronic screen came alive.
“Welcome to the Eligius 2.0,” a female voice said, “Please ensure all safety precautions are followed.”
Anina scoffed and stared at the ceiling as if expecting to see the face behind the voice-over. “You are not dead after all,” she said.
The sound of her radio cracked, and she glanced to wait for what Parker had to say. “Thank you for showing you know this ship more than we do. We really need the light. But get your ass down to the store. We have a lot of items to move.”
Anina kept quiet. She was still smiling at herself for keeping the light on.
Parker’s voice broke out of the radio again. “Anina, are you there? Anina, come in.”
She answered her radio. “I’m on my way, Sir.” She turned around and walked off the cockpit.
Then, she heard a loud noise, like something massive falling in the distance. The noise continued for a few seconds, ten or more seconds, before a heavy crash came. It shook the whole place; even the Elegius bounced for a second or two.
​
***
Part Two
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