Male. Starting Uni soon. There have been times where I felt lonely and was craving affection physical and mental.
I haven't had any experience with romantic relationships, so I decided to try all the tips. none of them worked.Through my whole life, I've noticed that I didn't have trouble making friends at all. I consider myself an extraverted introvert. I tend to speak a lot in certain communities and with people i'm familliar with.
Despite of being an introvert, most of my friendships would just fall into my hands. I got along with my classmates naturally, but I think that's mostly because they come from good famillies.
I remember being at a local Parkour park once. I didn't speak a single word, but I got approached by other athletes or just random dudes. We had long chats and would become friends with ease.
I remember my first day at the gym. A guy started a convo with me and we had no trouble communicating.
When I got my first job at a local fast-food place, I decided to socialize for a bit and got to know all my colleagues. On one night a couple of guys invited me for drinks and we would make this into a habit. We would laugh our asses off, and have a good time in general.
I used to make friends very very easily in online games or the internet when I was younger.
Now, you may say that I must be a person with a lot of contacts, but I really am not. These friendships did not last long, mostly because I was inactive, but they were smooth as butter while they lasted.
And you know what's the similarity between those encounters? I didn't have to say a lot, nor I had to be charismatic/deep/attentive. They just happened. And a lot of these people would compliment how much of a mature, chill, cool guy I was.
I cannot say the same for girls. Most of the girls i've spoken to in my life would give me short, cold answers.
​
I've had a few girls flirt with me or be active in general. One of them manipulated me for an ego boost, the others just friendzoned me.
I remember feeling pity for the shy girl in my class who did not speak to anyone at all. I had no romantic intentions towards her, just a few casual chats about interests. I've noticed that she was very active in no time and I guess we got along well.She started flirting and I played along. I decided to take a step further and invite her to a date. She would play it off at first, but then agreed.
Fast forward to our "date"It was some shitty harry potter movie during which she kept staring at her phone. Turns out her toxic best-friend who would insult me in front of her was enraged that we went to the movies without her.
I brushed it off at first.
After this "date" I texted her: So, how was our date? :)To which she responded: Date? I thought it was a friendly movie night?I understood her true intentions and decided to stop taking her seriously at all.
She would continue to flirt with me, talk about sexual stuff and shower me with flattery.
Then she would gaslight me and try to "roast me"To which I called her a manipulator jokingly.
She started ignoring me in class and not even greeting me. I asked her what's wrong to which she replied "I need a break"I didn't question her further and just said "Alright"Later on that night one of her friends tells me to apologize because she misses me.
I apologized for the sake of it, and she said something like "Finally you apologized. I missed you"Her constant fake compliments and gaslighting would continue until I decided to cut ties with her and ghost her overtime.
I found out that her attitude towards me was actually a form of manipulation called "Love-bombing" since she was flirting with me and sexting me in a matter of days, before starting to gaslight me.
The second girl that I met was through my girl classmate who's a good friend of mine.
I would occasionally reply to her stories and chat. I remember dropping a flirty line jokingly, because I found her cute.
She replied positively and would flirt back. She started to become very active and would ask me a lot of questions and keep me updated on everything everyday.
But i've noticed that her behavior of flirting was very similar to the first girl, so I decided that i'm in the friendzone. I was right. She mentioned having a crush on other guy in a few days.
By providing this second example, I'm trying to say that the tip to be confident and flirt still didn't get me out of the friendzone.
Another tip that I hear constantly and find reasonable is to make the first move and approach them.
I approached this girl at my work and struck up a convo. We shared interests and I could tell she wasn't creeped out and seemed genuine. She even offered to go out on our first talk. We did and we would share a few laughs, I would chat a lot with her, ask her questions, we'd talk about different topics.
I felt a little shy, because this girl was not like any others I've ever seen and I was developing a crush for her. I decided to follow the tip: Just be yourself and don't try to pretend something you're not.
FFW I got friendzoned. She said that I was shy.
Another tip that I heard was to cold approach girls. I was reluctant to follow this tip, because I heard a lot of girls complain about guys "constantly talking to them"So I tried to come up with an original line, and not just hey what's your name.
On my first try, It did work. I talked with a girl for a bit and we didn't have any awkward silences in our convo. As soon as she gave me her social media, her personality changed. She'd give out short answers up to the point where I had no idea what to ask her or how to communicate with her, so I decided to send her some funny vids or those that were related to our common interests like movies, which we spoke about during our first convo.
I decided to be confident and make the move. In a few days I messaged her, politely asking if she wants to hang out and chat at a local park if she's free. She replied instantly and said something like"yeah, of course. I'm a bit busy with schedules, friend Bdays coming up, and i'll message you when i'm free"I sent her a like and asked her how she's doing a few days later. She never replied.
​
The way people describe attracting a girl is like solving some kind of a mystery.
I was told to be funny, ask her a lot of personal questions, be interesting, find common topics and be mysterious.And at first these characteristics seem realistic, but like I mentioned, most of the girls I met would give short replies, which would make me run out of questions to ask or any sort of motivation.
As for the funny part, my sense of humor is different from others and I don't think most of the girls would appreciate it. It makes my buddies laugh, but our girl friends don't really like it.
I don't really understand what they mean by funny. You expect me to be a psychologist to determine what kind of humor she wants and just dance and cater to her needs like a jester to force her into liking me?
There is a huge difference between men and women in terms of their mentality, so the tip to talk to girls like they're boys is straight up bullshit IMO. If they truly are equal, then anyone with a Gender studies degree is an uneducated fool. Men tend to talk about way more extreme things amongst each other.
I decided to ask for advice from one of my girl buddies. She told me to "let it come naturally and not do anything and by engaging with others I am forcing a relationship"And dare I say, this is the worst piece of advice i had ever heard.
So you're telling me that if I stay passive and don't interact with girls I will suddenly become a magnet?If that's true, then why are people trying to get rich? Why won't they just stand there and wait for the money to come naturally? Bullshit.
I'm not some princess in a castle waiting for a noble knight. Why would I spend my whole youth "waiting for the right moment"?
I've seen a lot of people just being focused on pursuing their career and not giving a fuck. Some of them nerds, some of them normal people who are casually interacting with others and outgoing. But I haven't heard anything about them being popular among girls
Frankly, I don't even understand what to do anymore. I'm starting to think that it's my appearance, since i've been berated a lot for it and my girl classmate would rank me as the least attractive during some comparison games or whatever the hell that was.
I've seen a lot of guys that were bland, uneducated, had zero respect or politeness end up with tons of women around them. They had zero hobbies or didn't share any common interests with the girls.
As for me, I take care of myself and my hygiene, up to the point where it becomes an obsession. Not necessarily because of girls, but because I like being clean in general.
I read, watch movies, shows, exercise, and NO, my hobbies do not involve Video games or any shit like this.
It's just that I hate the fact that I'm forced to follow a strict number of rules to find someone, while there are guys who aren't doing the basic minimum and still have huge fucking success.
The only path for me left is Tinder or dating apps, which I'm certain won't do me any good.
At this point I'm just really tired of interacting with people, asking the same questions and ending up in the same place all over again. I no longer have the same drive as I had in the first time. I no longer want romance and bonding, I just want to some casual hookups and that's it.
That's it. Sorry for making it too long.
​
I just want some advice that doesn't involve playing mind tricks, altering myself to cater the needs of someone, or modern "self improvement"
​

Hey there stranger. Let me tell you a lil about myself. I was born in Egypt but moved to the UK when I was 16 with my father’s family for School and University. I’m tall, I have 3 tattoos I’ve been boxing for almost 2 decades now and I lift weights. I’m a little bit introverted but do have some extroverted tendencies from time to time. I like to read fiction and non-fiction, poetry is among the things I love to write and I’m also really into anime and gaming (PC, PS5 and Switch). I work full-time (from home) and I’m doing a masters on the side, it gets lonely sometimes having such a busy schedule but I always make time for myself and the people close to me. Would love to meet some likeminded individuals if you they exist 😅

Sorry for the break in posting I had to take a break due to writers block and school
Captain Alderson, Selkath Empire Docean City
——————————————————————————— I groaned and raised my head slightly. Just raising my head sent shockwaves of pain coursing through my body. I heard a door open and a female voice called out.
“Oh good, you’re awake.”
I closed my eyes and said, “Where am I?”
There was a pause then she answered, “Docean city, sir. You're in Ivyheath. You had to be treated for burns but luckily for you we have one of the best doctors in Docean”
I swore softly. Docean was at least a three-day’s ride from Tartalus Fields. But, THE PIGEON!
“Wait, this is very important. Did a messenger pigeon come to this city recently?”
“Well gee’ sir I don’t know, but if it had bad news that would explain all the messengers riding in and out. Plus there are a lot more guard patrols out as of late.”
I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. So my message had made it.
“Oh on that topic, Lord Genwald wishes to speak to you at the Castle.”
“Sure. Just give me a bit longer to rest up.”
“Of course, we can’t have you leaving before paying your inn fee as well.”
“What???”
“Well, sir. You didn’t expect the accommodation to just be free, did you?”, she said as she frowned putting her hands on her hips.
“Well…no,” I mumbled.
“Good, now should I charge you now or later?” She inquired back to her happy self.
Well, I mean now was a better time than any to lean on my noble blood. I winced at the thought of the shouting and stomping from the grown up man child who was my father. However my family had grown quite wealthy over the years due to his mercantile prowess. But my father was a weak man who loved nothing more than his coffers being full. He loved that even over his own sons, or more specifically, me.
*”HOW DARE YOU, HOW DARE YOU TAKE FROM YOUR OWN FATHER!”
I sat quivering on the floor starring up at the large man who was my father. The golden crown on his ring lifted and fell with a terrible certainty. I smashed into the ground.
I screamed, “NO I DIDN’T DO IT I SWEAR, PLEASE BELIEVE ME.”
He roared back, “SHUT UP, YOU STUPID CHILD, HOW DARE YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL!”
He raised his hand again.
“Papa?” Called a small voice from the door. My little brother stood there hugging the stuffed wildebeast he had gotten as a present from my uncle. My father halted his beating midway and turned, a wide smile on his face.
Jonathan stood there holding the ring. The exact ring I was being beaten for. My father froze when he saw the ring.
Jonathan said, “Sorry Papa is this why your shouting?”
Father looked at him in disbelief and I braced to take a beating to protect Jonathan but then Father simply smiled.
“Hello there son, don’t about it if you want to play with it or keep it you can, don’t worry about it I can always get another one.” he said and without another look at my bruised body he picked up Jonathan and sweped out the room with Jonathan in his arms.*
I shivered in the memory, then responded, “You can bill it to House Arcasus.”
She stared at me for a second.
“You think I’m joking?”
She started at the sudden statement and squeaked, “No sir.”
I sighed, I should have known that my family name would have a provocative reaction. My father had been growing his power and businesses out here, by the border. Nobody was looking out here which allowed his many businesses to thrive without dealing with the empire’s tax obligators. He was quite smart that way.
I jerked up reaching for my hidden knife as a door down the hallway slammed open and I heard men shouting. Then my door slammed backward and open as my sergeant burst in.
“Sir! Your okay,” he exclaimed in relief.
I nodded, “Yes, yes I am soldier.”
“Good, I’ll have you know those useless attendants tried to stop me from seeing you, can you believe that!” He snorted in indignation.
“Well I certainly heard you making your case,” I replied dryly.
He nodded his head vigorously at me, “Yes sir, I did.”
I chuckled then asked, “Tell me your name soldier.”
He nodded and said ruefully, “Well sir, you see, I’m a ward, don't have a last name, but I go by, Karean ward.”
“Very well, Karean, any news from the front?”
He hesitated before saying, “The fort was overrun sir, no survivors, I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes as a wave of grief hit me for a second time. I shuddered before pushing my brother’s face from my mind and I looked at Karean as I stood up.
He eyed me as I wobbled unsteadily, “Ummmm, sir are you ok?”
“Yes, now out while I put on clothes.”
He saluted and strode out of the room leaving me alone in the silence. I shuddered, drawing in a breath. I thought about my brother. He had been kind and caring. He never understood why I hated father so much, because he could never understand.I thought about my brother. He had never understood why I had wanted to leave home so bad. Father was kind to him, his little intellectual prowess. Unlike me whose grades had fallen flat in every single class I took. Jonathan had the best marks in every class, Father’s pride and joy.
I clothed myself slowly, pants then shirt, knife in belt, second knife in conceal shoe spot.
I stepped out of the room and was greeted by the back of a soldier. He spun around raising his sword, he paused when he saw me.
“Sir your awake!”
I nodded, glancing at the armor which was embroidered with the royal coat of arms. I headed downstairs with the man at arms and met my sergeant who was sitting at a table. He shifted over to make room for me, and the soldier stood in front of the table to stop any bystanders from getting too close.
“Well, Sir how your nap?” He said through a mouthful of bread and stew.
I waved a hand as he pushed the bowl of stew towards me, “Thank you but no, and my ‘nap’ was very sleep heavy.”
He snorted in amusement, before stopping and drawing his sword. The reason for his discomfort was the small gaggle of rough looking men approaching.
They stopped a short way away from the two blades eying them warily. They leader stepped forward, braver or dumber than the rest as two gleaming swords turned directly towards him.
“I just want to talk to the cap’in,” he said.
“The cap’in doesn’t want to speak to you, you back alley scum,” the soldier snarled.
The gang leader looked between us a dark look on his face before saying, “So thats how it is?”
An angry murmur came from the crowd and they started to move forward. I shoved back my chair and stood up. The innkeeper watched in terror, at the violence which might occur. Then I thought again. He was watching in terror imagining the damage that could be done to his inn.
As I watched the innkeeper dragged his wife over, he began whispering in her ear then she nodded and ran back into the kitchen. I assumed she was going through a backdoor to get the watch.
I turned back to see one of the gang members swing a fist at the sergeant who dodged and contemptuously smashed the flat of his sword into the offender who promptly crumpled to the ground in a heap. The rest of the gang roared and surged forward.
Fortunately for us, the layout of the inn only allowed the gang to come at us one at a time. I moved up to my first opponent, a huge man. As he stepped into the light, I saw that his skin was a greenish tone. I let out a string of vulgar curses which would have made any wellbred nobleman faint. My opponent was a brute.
Brutes were Orc-Human half breeds. Brutes were often conscripted into the army due to their great skillsets. Brutes inherited Human intelligence and Orcish strength allowing them to have great combat abilities. Brutes were also often orphans from a young age - due to the fact that Orc mothers don’t accept weaklings and Humans aren’t exactly designed to give birth to a 30 pound, 4 foot baby - allowing them to be molded by whatever army took them in.
As my opponent took the first swing at me I dodged and swiftly moved to counter attack. At least, thats what I had planned to do, my body, still recovering from my wounds did not help. My knee gave out and as I went down my opponent swung his fist, and have sent me sailing. When I hit the ground stars burst in my eyes. As I struggle to recover, my opponent, walked up and grinned. He lifted me up, cocking his fist. Then a look at surprise over took his face. He got yanked backwards, and I heard the sounds of shouting.
I stood up and looked around and grabbed a chair to steady myself. I gazed around the inn, overturned chairs, smashed tables and cutlery, watchmen everywhere wandering through the inn swinging wooden clubs with menacing iron heads. There was a small chandelier was swinging.
The innkeeper walked up to me red faced and opened his mouth but quickly backed away as someone approached me from behind. I turned and was face to face with a towns watchman, he had a red band tied around his forearm, which indicated him to be the head of the watch.
He stared hard at me for a second and I thought he would comment on the state of the inn. But then he simply said, “Lord Genwald wishes to speak with you.”
I nodded and gestured at the sergeant and soldier, “May these two accompany me?”
The watchman nodded and said, “That is acceptable,” before moving towards the door gesturing me to follow him.
First Prev

Hey there stranger. Let me tell you a lil about myself. I was born in Egypt but moved to the UK when I was 16 with my father’s family for School and University. I’m tall, I have 3 tattoos I’ve been boxing for almost 2 decades now and I lift weights. I’m a little bit introverted but do have some extroverted tendencies from time to time. I like to read fiction and non-fiction, poetry is among the things I love to write and I’m also really into anime and gaming (PC, PS5 and Switch). I work full-time (from home) and I’m doing a masters on the side, it gets lonely sometimes having such a busy schedule but I always make time for myself and the people close to me. Would love to meet some likeminded individuals if you they exist 😅 Preferably F

Hey there stranger. Let me tell you a lil about myself. I was born in Egypt but moved to the UK when I was 16 with my father’s family for School and University. I’m tall, I have 3 tattoos I’ve been boxing for almost 2 decades now and I lift weights. I’m a little bit introverted but do have some extroverted tendencies from time to time. I like to read fiction and non-fiction, poetry is among the things I love to write and I’m also really into anime and gaming (PC, PS5 and Switch). I work full-time (from home) and I’m doing a masters on the side, it gets lonely sometimes having such a busy schedule but I always make time for myself and the people close to me. Would love to meet some likeminded individuals if you they exist 😅 Preferably F

Hey there stranger. Let me tell you a lil about myself. I’m straight. I was born in Egypt but moved to the UK when I was 16 with my father’s family for School and University. I’m tall, I have 3 tattoos I’ve been boxing for almost 2 decades now and I lift weights. I’m a little bit introverted but do have some extroverted tendencies from time to time. I like to read fiction and non-fiction, poetry is among the things I love to write and I’m also really into anime and gaming (PC, PS5 and Switch). I work full-time (from home) and I’m doing a masters on the side, it gets lonely sometimes having such a busy schedule but I always make time for myself and the people close to me. Would love to meet some likeminded individuals if you they exist 😅

Please note that names have been changed for the sake of anonymity, as have also some events for the sake of simplicity and to help you understand the personalities.
Our city, once a humble town nestled in the embrace of the Andes Mountains, has undergone a remarkable transformation over the years. Evolving into a bustling capital and a prominent city within our country, it now stands as a symbol of progress and growth. Yet, beneath its surface of modernity and development, lies a hidden truth, a dark side that lurks in the shadows, concealed from the eyes of the uninitiated. It is a truth woven into the fabric of our city's history, whispered in tales of terror, and attributed to the elusive and enigmatic presence known as the "Twilight Menace." While outsiders may dismiss it as mere legend or the machinations of a criminal underworld, we, the locals, know better. We live in perpetual fear of this unseen terror that haunts our city.
And now, I find myself compelled to share this story with you, even as the memetic hazard surrounding the Twilight Menace threatens to erode my sense of reason. It is as if I am speaking to an inanimate object rather than a person, yet something within me tells me that you, a foreigner, possess the curiosity and open-mindedness necessary to understand and appreciate the fascinating and eerie history of our city.
Let me provide you with some much-needed context. The Twilight Menace is a term we have assigned to a group of nocturnal predators that have plagued our city for generations. They consist of ten distinct subspecies, each possessing its own unique characteristics and hunting techniques. Allow me to shed light on a few of them.
First among them are the Shadow Stalkers. These humanoid creatures boast pale or dark skin, sharp features, and unnaturally elongated limbs. Strikingly, they lack eyes, relying instead on their heightened sense of smell and acute hearing to track their unsuspecting prey. Like all members of the Twilight Menace, they are vaporized upon exposure to sunlight. Shadow Stalkers move with eerie silence within the shadows, patiently observing their targets for hours, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. It is worth noting that the largest known hunting party of Shadow Stalkers comprised a mere four members, prompting them to refrain from attacking when faced with a numerical advantage or disadvantage. The only known defense against them is to gather in groups of five or more, for it seems that their hunting instincts are deterred by such a formidable force.
Next, we encounter the Night Terrors, smaller and more agile than their Shadow Stalker counterparts. These creatures are adorned with fur as dark as the night itself, possessing razor-sharp jaws, claws, and piercing, luminescent eyes that aid their vision in the darkest of environs. What sets them apart is their uncanny ability to create illusions, disorienting their prey and rendering them vulnerable to capture. Similar to their brethren, they dissipate into nothingness upon exposure to sunlight. Unlike the Shadow Stalkers, however, the Night Terrors exhibit no hesitation in attacking their victims even when faced with a numerical disadvantage.
Another subspecies of the Twilight Menace is the Dread Fiends, hulking creatures draped in dark fur and bearing piercing yellow eyes that emit an otherworldly glow. They possess unmatched speed and move through the darkness with uncanny silence, often launching surprise attacks from behind. Their powerful jaws and claws allow them to mercilessly rend their victims apart, reveling in sadistic pleasure as they toy with their prey before finally delivering the fatal blow.
We must also contend with the Blood Mist Creatures, amorphous blobs of mist capable of shape-shifting at will. These entities often assume the form of a menacing, misty cloud, complete with glowing red eyes that flicker ominously. Their method of attack involves engulfing their prey in their ethereal mist, suffocating them while simultaneously absorbing their life-giving blood.
The ranks of the Twilight Menace also include the Silent Horrors, tall and gaunt figures reminiscent of the Shadow Stalkers. They possess long, spindly limbs and an eerie absence of facial features. Swift and soundless in their movements, they strike from the shadows, relying on their ability to induce paralyzing fear within their victims before delivering the final, fatal blow.
Another formidable adversary is the Dark Whispers, small and ghostly creatures resembling a swirling black mist adorned with gleaming green eyes. These elusive entities can effortlessly traverse through walls and floors, making them virtually impossible to evade. With their insidious whispers, they sow seeds of madness in the minds of their victims, driving them to the brink of insanity before ultimately sealing their fate.
The Graveyard Ghosts, skeletal apparitions with glowing red eyes, haunt the resting places of the deceased, emerging from the ground to assail unsuspecting victims. Their unique ability to phase through solid objects grants them an advantage in their pursuit of prey.
Among the Twilight Menace, we also encounter the Moon Howlers, creatures reminiscent of wolves with their black fur and hauntingly radiant blue eyes. These formidable hunters operate in packs, utilizing their sharp teeth and claws to bring down their chosen targets. Their haunting howls under the moonlight have a paralyzing effect, rendering their victims immobile with fear and vulnerability. The Moon Howlers are known to encircle their prey, amplifying the terror and panic experienced before delivering the final, fatal strike.
No discussion of the Twilight Menace would be complete without mentioning the Soul Snatchers, small and elusive creatures cloaked in shadows, their purple eyes glowing with an unholy light. Possessing an ethereal nature, they can effortlessly phase through walls and floors, rendering physical barriers futile. The Soul Snatchers are infamous for their ability to steal the very souls of their victims, leaving behind only empty shells of once vibrant beings.
Lastly, we have the Phantom Hunters, tall and ethereal figures that appear ghostlike, their piercing white eyes glowing with an otherworldly radiance. Often found in areas burdened by great tragedy or loss, these relentless hunters show no mercy to their prey. With the ability to pass through solid objects, they haunt their victims relentlessly, seizing control of their very essence before ultimately snuffing out their lives.
The abilities possessed by these entities may indeed instill terror and a sense of hopelessness. It may appear as though there is no conceivable way to counter their menace. However, there exists a method to confront and challenge them, albeit one that is only accessible to a chosen few. Fortunately, I am among the privileged individuals bestowed with this ability. My means of defense manifests in the form of a sword, an instrument of freezing cold capable of temporarily banishing these entities back to their home realm, known as the twilight lands.
You may wonder about the fate of those who lack the means to defend themselves. Do they inevitably succumb to the Twilight Menace? This is where the second part of the legend takes hold. We possess a protector, a human chosen from the multitude, tasked with wielding the fabled sword of Nott. Despite its connotation in certain languages, the sword stands as a potent tool bestowed upon the most loyal subject of the sun god, harnessing the very power of the sun itself. Any adversary unfortunate enough to cross paths with this radiant weapon is instantly consumed by its searing light, vanishing into oblivion. This chosen protector assumes the mantle of "Phantome."
The enigmatic Phantome remains veiled in mystery, an elusive figure who seemingly possesses the ability to be present in multiple locations simultaneously. They are the sole individuals granted permission to traverse the realm of the Twilight Menace, engaging in communication with these ethereal beings. Although no one has ever laid eyes upon Phantome, the blinding brilliance of the sword's collision with the enemy stands as a testament to their unwavering presence and devotion.
Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Sean van Delphi, and I'm no ordinary teenager. At just 15 years old, I have already faced more dangers and challenges than most adults. As a monster hunter, it's my job to protect the city from supernatural threats that lurk in the shadows. But that's not all there is to my life. When I'm not fighting monsters, I'm just a regular high school student. I attend New Lands, a private school located near my home. To get there, I ride my trusty electric bicycle - I mean, why waste energy on pedaling when I can conserve it for hunting down creatures of the night?
My house may be small, but it's my home. It was built when this area was still rural, but over time it has become a suburban haven, located just outside the bustling capital city. And believe me, when I say that what I'm about to tell you might sound unbelievable, I really mean it. But I need you to trust me, because what I'm about to share is the truth - and the truth can be stranger than fiction.
I live with the monsters I hunt.
My last name is not commonly found in this part of the world, with its European roots (until I experienced the supernatural firsthand, I was skeptical of the legends). My parents, a Dutch father and a Polish mother, chose this small Andean city as the place to start their new life together, and I was born shortly after their arrival. While I wish I could say more about them, my memories of my parents are few, but I do know that they loved me dearly and sacrificed everything for me. Their loss is one of the main reasons why I hunt monsters.
After my parents' death, I was left alone in the world. I spent at least a year wandering the city like a vagabond before stumbling upon my new family: a group of Phantom Hunters. They were searching for survivors of an explosion that had occurred in a nearby restaurant and, in my desperation, I was prepared to become possessed by a supernatural entity. Instead, they took me in and brought me to their home. I still don't understand why they were willing to take such a risk on a stranger, but I am eternally grateful for their kindness and generosity.
With the context out of the way, I’ll tell you my story and how it changed this city forever. It was a normal day, as normal as it can get in this city. I was at school, bored out of my mind, the teacher was giving a lecture about Figurative Language. I guess it was important to learn English but the way the teacher spoke about it just made me want to sleep. I yawned, then nudged my friend Mike to keep him awake. If I was going to be tormented by idioms, he was going to be tormented by metaphors and similes too. I glanced at the clock, it read 1:15 p.m.. Only 5 more minutes until recess, I thought, you just need to stay awake for 5 more minutes Sean. I then glanced at the schedule, I groaned, it was a monday, which meant we had English, recess and then English again. I wanted to kill myself, I wouldn’t be able to last those last 40 minutes. Time ticked by extremely slowly, I swear I nodded off at least 15 times before the bell rang, indicating that recess had started.
As I did every day, I headed to the nearest court, where all my friends were, to play volleyball. Today, however, the teacher denied us a ball, so we were left on our own trying to find what to do. I remember myself thinking Oh god, first English class and then this while I made my way to the parking lot, where there are 2 basketball courts. On the way, I passed through some young ones playing soccer. I figured I had nothing else to do so I took a seat at the edge of the field and watched the game unfold. I knew some of the people that were playing because my adoptive… foster brother was their age and up until some years ago he had been in the same school as me, that was until he decided to change to his old school. Oh, sorry I forgot, over the years, my family has adopted 2 other people, my brother (not related by blood) who is 12 years old, and my little sister (also not related by blood) who just turned 5 last week.
As I was saying, I had just taken a seat to admire the game when I was approached by 3 girls, they seemed the same age as my brother so I dismissed it as probably some of his friends coming to ask me “Oh, are you Jean’s older brother?”. I won’t disclose a lot of details about this conversation because I don’t really remember it that much, but I remember the start of the conversation because it was hilarious.
“Hi! Do you know she likes you?” the girl to the left, she was of average height, had a slightly tanned skin tone and wore glasses, greeted me cheerfully at the end of her dialogue she pointed to the one in the middle, a little bit taller than the first had a pale skin tone and a dark brown hair, the latter put a hand on the girl’s mouth only to recoil with an “EWWW”; they started bickering and wouldn’t calm down for at least five minutes.
“I’m sorry for my friends’ behavior,” The third girl interrupted, by far the tallest of them, standing just five or six inches shorter than me, even though I’m a good 5’9”, she had the appearance of a foreigner, I didn’t know many locals who were blonde with blue eyes, she spoke with a slightly off tone and when I looked at her in the eyes, I felt like my fight or flight instinct was kicking in, panic bells rang off inside my head, but not because I was talking to someone I liked, I didn’t, this feeling… I had only felt this feeling when my life was in imminent danger, like if I was being followed by a shadow stalker. “Name’s Zeph” It took me a moment to react, “Sean”. “Good to meet you” she said, and then proceeded to introduce her still bickering friends. “She’s Holly” she said as she pointed to the one in the middle, “and she is Sam” she pointed to the one on the left. The conversation that ensued in something I can’t recall, the only thing I remember is feeling weary all the time. There was this aura of calmness emanating from Zeph, it was so calm that it bothered me, like how a silent horror would attack its prey.
After the conversation, I left the soccer field and headed to the basketball court where Mike and the others were. I quickly told them what had happened, and Mike was ecstatic. “You’ve got yourself a girlfriend, Sean!” he said, with a huge grin on his face. “Shut up, Mike, I don’t even know if she likes me like that,” I replied, rolling my eyes. We started playing basketball, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Zeph. There was something strange about her, something that made me feel uneasy.
The bell rang, indicating that recess was over, and we headed back to class. I couldn’t focus on the lecture, my mind kept wandering back to Zeph. I decided to look her up on social media, and to my surprise, I found her profile easily. I scrolled through her pictures, trying to learn more about her. There were pictures of her at the beach, pictures of her with her friends, and even pictures of her playing guitar. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something off about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
The next day passed by slowly, and as soon as the bell rang, indicating that classes were over, I rushed home. I went straight to my room, turned on my computer, and started researching. I spent hours reading about different cultures, different religions, and different beliefs. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Zeph, but I knew that there was something.
Days passed, and I couldn’t get Zeph out of my head. I tried talking to her, but every time I did, I felt the same uneasiness that I felt the first time we talked. I decided to talk to my parents about her, but they didn’t seem to know anything about her. I tried talking to my friends, but they just laughed at me, thinking it was some sort of lame excuse to try to throw them off of bothering me with her. Then, one day out of the blue, the group of three decided that I was their perfect victim to their bickering.
As I waited for my parents to come and pick me up from school, I couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that crept up on me. My bicycle had been totaled in an earlier fight, and I didn't feel comfortable walking, especially in the areas where darkness lingered, tempting unsuspecting victims into traps. Ignoring the ominous atmosphere, I tried to focus on something else, anything else.
"Hey!" Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm, sending shivers down my spine. Sensitivity to touch was a part of my condition, and physical contact with others often made me feel claustrophobic. I turned to see who had grabbed me and found myself face to face with Holly. The proximity made me jump, and I knew I had to keep my guard up in case of a fight.
As I tried to compose myself, I felt something move behind me. I tried to turn around, but when I did, there was nothing there. Dread filled me, and I debated whether to draw my sword or not. In the end, I decided against it.
I turned my attention back to Holly, only to be met by Zeph, who appeared out of nowhere and scared me out of my wits. The uneasy feeling in my gut grew stronger, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble I had gotten myself into.
Out of the shadows emerged Sam, whom I hadn't noticed before. My gut feeling intensified as I looked around, trying to find a way to escape. I was trapped, backed against a tree and surrounded by a group of wild 12-year-olds.
"How are you doing?" Sam grinned, her glasses reflecting the sun, hiding her eyes. I searched for a way out and saw Holly standing arrogantly in front of me, while Zeph was on my right. As soon as I met Zeph's gaze, I expected to feel a sense of dread, but instead, I felt nothing.
“Hey, don’t be rude. Sam asked you a question,” Holly said, stepping closer to me. I could feel her breath on my face.
“I’m fine,” I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just waiting for my parents.”
“Oh, we know,” Zeph said, stepping closer to me as well. “We just wanted to chat. You know, get to know each other better.”
I swallowed hard, feeling like a trapped animal. “I really need to go. My parents are waiting.”
“Oh, come on,” Sam said, moving closer to me too. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
But I knew better. These kids were trouble, and I had a feeling that they were up to no good. I looked around, trying to find an escape route, but I was surrounded.
Just as I was about to panic, I heard the sound of a car pulling up. Relief washed over me as I saw my parents getting out of the car. The group of kids scattered, disappearing into the shadows like they had never been there
I quickly walked towards my parents, feeling safe now that they were there. As we drove away, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble those kids would get into next. And I made a mental note to avoid them at all costs in the future.
I got into the car, my dad was there, the vehicle was dark, so his shining white eyes were so easily found. “Who are those people that were talking with you” He said, his speech a mix of natural sounds and low screeches, it was the Twilight Lang, their form of speech I had learnt through the years.
“They are some weird friends” I answered him, shuddering, then added “Thanks for saving me there, you were just on time”
I don’t know if he knew something was off or he was just suspicious of something but he looked directly at me through the rearview mirror, his pale face a mix of worry and relief.
“I’m glad to be of help, as always” We didn’t speak more during the return trip, he left me to wonder what my fate would’ve been if he hadn’t shown up just then.
As we arrived home, I went straight to my room, feeling exhausted and relieved at the same time. I lay on my bed, thinking about the events that had just occurred. I knew I had to be more careful in the future and avoid getting into situations like that.
But the nagging feeling in my gut wouldn't go away. I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to the encounter than what I had seen. I wondered why those kids had targeted me, and what they had wanted from me.
I went to school the next day, still feeling a bit uneasy after the encounter with the group of kids. As I walked through the halls, I caught glimpses of the girls from the day before. It was strange, but I didn't feel the same sense of dread that I had before. In fact, Zeph seemed different somehow, as if her aura of calmness had suddenly disappeared, at least for me.
As the day went on, I tried to avoid them as much as possible. I didn't want to get involved with them again, especially after what had happened the day before. However, they seemed to be everywhere, like they were purposely trying to cross paths with me.
At lunchtime, I sat alone in the cafeteria, trying to eat my sandwich in peace. But soon enough, Holly and Sam appeared at my table, uninvited.
"Hey there," Holly said, smirking at me. "Mind if we join you?"
I didn't really have a choice, so I just shrugged and nodded. They sat down across from me, and I couldn't help but feel uneasy.
"So" Holly said, looking expectantly at me. She didn't say anything more so silence reigned over our table.
"So?" I asked, eager to break the muteness in the air
Holly leaned forward, a wicked glint in her eye. "We were just wondering if you've changed your mind yet. About joining our group, I mean."
I shook my head, they hadn’t asked me anything before, but I wasn’t going to join their group even if I wanted to die. "No, I haven't changed my mind. I don't think I want to be a part of your group."
Holly's smile faded, and her expression turned cold. "Well, that's too bad. We could've had some fun together."
I tried not to let her words affect me, but I couldn't help feeling a little scared. What did she mean by "fun"? And why did they seem so fixated on me?
The rest of lunch was uncomfortable, and I couldn't wait to leave the cafeteria. As I walked down the hallway, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around and saw Zeph walking towards me.
"Hey," she said, her voice soft and hesitant. "Can we talk?"
I was surprised by her sudden change in demeanor, but I nodded anyway. We walked to an empty classroom and sat down at a desk.
"I just wanted to apologize," Zeph said, looking down at her hands. "For what happened yesterday. We didn't mean to scare you like that."
I wasn't sure if I believed her, but I appreciated the apology nonetheless. "Thanks," I said, still feeling wary.
Zeph looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. "I know Holly and Sam can be a bit intense sometimes. But they're not all bad. We just...we have our own way of having fun, you know?"
I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of fun?"
Zeph hesitated for a moment before speaking. "It's hard to explain. We just like to do things that are a little...different. Things that other people might not understand."
I couldn't help but feel a little intrigued. "Like what?"
Zeph smiled, seeming to relax a little. "Well, for example, we like to explore abandoned buildings. Or go on night hikes in the woods. Stuff like that."
I wasn't sure how to respond. On one hand, it sounded kind of exciting. On the other hand, it also sounded kind of dangerous.
Zeph must have sensed my hesitation because she quickly added, "But of course, we only do those things when it's safe. We're not stupid or anything."
I nodded, still not completely convinced. "I don't know, it just seems kind of risky."
Zeph shrugged. "It's not for everyone, I guess. But if you ever change your mind, you're always welcome to come along."
With that, our conversation ended, and we left the classroom. As I walked away, I couldn't help but think about what she had said. Maybe there was more to these girls than I had originally thought.
Oh how correct I was.

I'm looking for an RP where my character would swap bodies of a girl a different race from himself. I would like to play around with the idea that my character doesn't suspect anything lewd going on at all until after the body swap would actually happen and even then would play along with what the person he swapped with asked. I don't necessarily want the rp to be all direct smut, but a lot of it is where my character is coerced or tricked into more and more lewd acts by your character. For example wearing overly tight clothing with slutty words written across them or extremely skimpy outfits.
I would like it where the girl initially looks very innocent and only merely interested in being in a male body but internally is beyond happy to now be a (white or black) male. Before the swap she made plans to turn my character into a total racial slut. Maybe on the first day it's just them getting used to being with each other but with the previously mentioned lewd clothing and then could slowly escalate telling my character to act his race or other demeaning things. A huge turning point would be where the girl convinces my character to get a tattoo in her body either by saying she booked it way in advance or really wanted to get it done now without telling him of what the tattoo is going to look like exactly, either way she convinces my character to go through with it. Depending on how fast you want to move the progression this could be as simple as a tramp stamp, spade tattoo, womb print or to where my character is put under before waking up to find he's now covered in racially motivated sexual tattoos. This is only a basic outline so I'd love to discuss this in detail with you.
As for the race of the girl she could either be white, black, hispanic or asian for the sake of this rp but I'm also potentially open to mixed race girls too! As for who she is exactly is up to you, an aunt, step-mom, half/ step-sibling, classmate, teacher etc.
The way they swap bodies are honestly endless but for me personally I like the ideas of swap class, a remote or even some sort of magic. A fun idea I had was that our character's would willingly consent to swapping for a day but maybe your character "accidentally" made the swap longer than it should have or found ways to keep extending the duration of the swap until there's no going back.
I only RP in first person and would like you to as well. I usually hover around 3-15 sentences and would like you to as well.
Kinks - Anal, anal training, ass to mouth, tasting myself, buttplugs, milfs, coercion, being lied to, outfit control, slutty outfits, incest, noncon, dubcon, power reversal, teasing, rimming (giving and receiving), musk, sweat, incest, feminization, demeaning, race play, interracial, race change, tattoos, tramp stamps, body modification, queen of spades, queen of hearts, and many more. Just ask!
Limits - 3rd person, one-liners, and vomit
Dm or chats if interested in playing something out with me! For now I'm only interested in rping on discord for now!

Me (22m) and my boyfriend (24m) were together for 9 (almost 10) months before he told me he thought we should break up because he had all these pent up feelings about my home life that I’m not going to get into. We’ve been still seeing each other during this time where we’ve been broken up, and I started making real strides in fixing the things he had feelings about, like my lack of spontaneity or only seeing him on weekends. We started talking about getting back together a few weeks ago, and when we discussed it, we decided we would wait to make any official decision about it until after a work trip to Illinois he had coming up. That trip is now about a week away. The more and more I’ve been thinking about it, the more I’m unsure of what I should do. I love him very much. I can picture my whole future with him and it looks amazing. We are a very very good match. But there are a few issues I have that I don’t know how to resolve.

1. We have certain interest in bed that don’t line up. To be clear, we are very capable of having good sex. However, I am the kind of person who, if my partner came to me and discussed things before hand and i knew the person and maybe as a bonus I got to join in or get sent videos after, they can sleep with basically whoever they want. And my boyfriend is fine with that. It’s never actually happened, but the way he’s acted makes me feel like his attitude is that he’s fine about it. However, he would very much not feel comfortable extending me that same offer. He can get jealous/insecure about stuff like that, to the point where a running joke between us is that I make a comment about some guy, like I like his tattoo or something like that, and he will say “sorry I’m not him,” or maybe I’ll be texting/snapping a male friend and he’ll say “texting your other boyfriends?” And he always says it as a joke, but for whatever reason I have started feeling uncomfortable about that joke, because it feels like I can’t so much as look at anyone but him. We went to a bar a few weeks ago and he left me to go full his drink and I felt like there was nowhere safe that I can look but at the lights on the ceiling. The problem I have with the jealousy is that it creates a double standard, and I can’t just start not liking the idea of him with someone else to alleviate it.
   
2. He is a very independent person, to the point where he will plan for example a trip with his friends, and, for no good reason, if he tells me he’s planning it and I ask to tag along, He has a good chance of saying “No, I’d just rather go alone.” I could never imagine a scenario where I wanted to go do something fun and the reason I don’t bring my partner is because I’d rather go by myself. Because to me it feels like he thinks he’d have more fun without me there. And maybe that’s immature and something I can work on, but I don’t know if I can help feeling left out.
   
3. The type of job my boyfriend has lets him work from home and has an on season and an off season, where the off season is fairly slow, where there’s still work to be done but not a huge list of tasks a mile long. And the on season is 10:00 am till 3:00 am for weeks if not months in a row. With no off days. And when I’m there during on season, it doesn’t really feel like quality time. And it feels like if I do anything around him like watch tv or play a game I’m gonna be distracting him. He loves his job and it’s completely unfair for me to ask him to change anything about it because hes very career motivated, and that’s totally fine. I just feel like I can’t really see him or do anything with him for weeks at a time, and I think my want for attention needs more than that.
   

At the end of the day, maybe my ADHD makes this harder because I’m more immature or emotionally simpleminded, but I have wants and feelings that I would have to just accept. And I honestly don’t know what to do. Any advice would be greatly appreciated, this has been the hardest decision I’ve had to make in a long time because until we say for sure we’re not getting back together, I still love him and moving on from that will be really hard, but I still don’t know what to do.

On first glance, Whickham appears to be a typical former pit village, a place of no consequence in the north east of England. But should you look closer, you would reveal a long and interesting folkloric history. And at the heart of that history, is Lang Jack.
Should you ever visit Whickham and ask about Lang Jack, you’d hear all the standard stuff. They’d tell you that he was incredibly tall, and inhumanly strong. They’d say he heaved stones from a quarry the next town over on his back and up the hill that Whickham sits atop in order to build his house. And lastly they’d tell you that you can visit him yourself, his monument is at the centre of the village, a great towering pillar holding up a bust of the man himself.
All of this is true, or so they say, but there’s more.
What they won’t tell you is that he was almost as famous for his anger as he was for his height. In fact, in a fit of rage he is reported to have tipped an entire cart of stones, horse and all, down an embankment, killing the poor animal and destroying the cart.
They also won’t tell you about his alcoholism, which destroyed his family, career, and liver, leading to his untimely death. He would often get so drunk that he would jump up and down on the spot, one part party trick, two parts act of vandalism when his heavy frame crashed through the wooden floorboards and he flopped into the cowshed beneath him.
But most importantly, they won’t tell you to visit his monument at midnight. They’ll never tell you this because they know the story of Ye Olde Lang Jack’s monument, they know the games they would play as children, and they know the fear that creeps into their chest when they remember the look on that contorted, dissolving stone face.
To tell the full story we have to go back in time, back to a time long after Lang Jack’s death, and long before his monument was moved. You see, the monument once sat in a very different part of Whickham, a place called Woodhouse Lane in Fellside. This area is much more rural, with sprawling fields around it in almost all directions. It sat beside a cottage, Jack’s cottage, the one he built with his bare hands.
The monument was first placed there in 1860, the same year of Lang Jack’s death. There has long been speculation that Jack was buried beneath the monument rather than in the churchyard like many other notable Whickham villagers. Peculiar for the time, Jack rejected the church, instead spending much of his time drinking and working as ‘hired help’ for businessmen who sought to intimidate and punish unruly workers, especially unionmen.
As a result of this speculation, the site of Lang Jack’s monument was a popular one among children and teenagers looking to spook themselves.
They would arrive, rocks in hand to hurl at the monument of Olde Lang Jack. Each child would take turns trying to strike the stone giant in the face as it smiled down at them from its 18 foot plinth. And if they missed, Ye Olde Lang Jack might just reach up with those long arms of his and snatch them deep down into the dirt.
Children played this game for years, and the stories of Jack’s grave spread like wildfire. Generation after generation the game was modified to fit the modern day, and as it was, so too did the stories of Jack mutate, and finally, with each stone throw, Jack’s face became more mutilated.
The years of wind, rain, sleet, and stones twisted Jack’s once charming and chiselled face into something much more unsettling. Corrosion took away his smug smile and replaced it with a sneer. Then it took his eyes, once kind, now they stare piercingly outward, as if a single glance could turn you to the very same stained and mossy stone.
This new face, and in particular the eyes, is what drew the children back. They gawked and pointed and groaned out chants they’d received from their parent’s childhoods. There were many variations, but most went something like this:
"Gangly Lang Jack, The Giant of Whickham
Who stood eighteen feet tall but that’s not all
So mighty and strong that they wrote this song
To tell all of Ye Olde Lang Jack.
He built our home with only his hands
The most beautiful village in all of the lands
Now he lies cold and dead underfoot
Hands grasping at nothing, his purpose kaput.
So chuck him a stone and give him a wink
Stare into his eyes and see if they blink
But watch where you step, the giant is sleeping
And listen carefully to Olde Lang Jack’s weeping."
They would dance around the monument to Lang Jack and sing this song, then dare each other to stare into his eyes. After that they’d throw their stones and more often than not be chased off by a local, giggling into the distance, off to tell their friends about their bravery under the stony gaze of Lang Jack.
This bravery didn’t last long. Soon the very sight of Lang Jack would strike fear into the hearts of the children of Whickham. No longer would children sing the song of The Giant of Whickham, they wouldn’t visit his grave or throw their stones, but most of all, no one would dare stare into Olde Jack’s eyes.
Fear like this was not the type that crept into the heads of sleeping children as they dreamt of the fun they’d had at Jack’s grave. Instead it was a very unnatural fear, a fear that came at a cost, and that cost was the life of a young girl named Mary.
Mary was brave, braver than most, and she wore that bravery like a badge of honour. So when some of the older girls dared her to go up to Lang Jack’s grave alone, she didn’t hesitate before agreeing. She even upped the stakes and decided that she would venture up in the evening, just as the sun was starting to set.
The night she chose was particularly blustery, the wind howled through the treetops as she made her way to meet Lang Jack. Polaroid camera in hand she pushed hard against the gale that saw fit to blow her back down the hill. But she was persistent, and so brave, so with each gust she only quickened her pace.
Mary rushed to the top of the hill, triumphant over the weather and ready to take on The Giant.
What happened next will forever be between Mary and Jack, and the two of them alone. A passerby claims to have seen a flash atop the hill before hearing a mighty crash. Thinking it was lightning they hurried back to their home. But beyond that, no one truly knows what happened that night.
Mary was found the next day, still clutching her camera. A single polaroid is said to have been found at the scene. Those who have seen it have described it as the frozen eyes of the devil himself. Although it is much more likely to have been a snapshot of Lang Jack’s face as the bust fell from atop the plinth and onto poor, brave Mary.
After that night the monument was moved to where it remains today. It was shortened to reduce the risk of another fatal accident, and placed where all of Whickham could see it, where there would always be someone to chase away the children.
The children who knew Mary, or knew her story, grew up fearing the statue. They forgot his song and denied ever throwing their stones. Time weathered their memories and before long they forgot why they were even scared in the first place. But their children remained curious, and some still met at the statue.
And so this brings us back to what they won’t tell you. They’ll never tell you to make the same mistake that so many have before. They won’t tell you to meet at Olde Lang Jack’s gravestone at midnight and stare into his eyes. And they won’t tell you to listen for his weeping and look for the tears streaming down his scarred face. But you’ll do it anyway, because how could you resist?
So the cycle goes on, and the stories continue to be told for years and years. All the while Jack cries on his plinth. Why does he cry? Nobody knows. Does he feel guilty for what happened to little Mary? Perhaps, or perhaps he mourns the man he once was. Before folklore changed him into the gibbering spector locked in the stone tower. Feared by many and ignored by most, only noticed by those who wish to see him weep.

Welcome to Camp Redwood! The feel-good camp for ALL AGES.
We toast marshmallows around the fire, tell spooky ghost stories, and hide in random secret military bunkers under the campgrounds! Because SOMETHING IS HERE WITH US.
Camp Redwood is the PERFECT PLACE for a summer getaway where we start EVERY DAY with a CAMP REDWOOD SMILE. Where our counselors disappear every five minutes, and our campers disembowel us for funsies! Did I forget to mention our littles aren’t actually eight years old, but fully grown adults?
We hope you enjoy your fucking stay!
We are also not responsible for any counselors revealing they are not who they said they are—and not who they appear to be.
...
So. There’s a LOT to tell you and not a lot of time to tell it.
Right now, I suppose you could say we are under lockdown—if that is the word. I want to go over the last several days to get you up to date. That’s all I can do right now. I can hope and pray the thing with Teddy’s voice does not get in here, and once again cry out for help—that I know is not coming. Not from the authorities, at least. But hey, if any of you fancy coming to rescue us, we’re in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. The closest rest-stop is maybe three fucking hours away. So have fun. Has it really almost been a week since I posted? Well, we’re still here!
And surprise, surprise, help is not coming. So, please excuse the salt. I am seventeen years old and I have been abandoned by the adults who were supposed to be looking after us.
Who were supposed to act under protocol if something like this happened. I know they were waiting for it—there are specific fucking guidelines on an emergency evacuation for counselors if this ever happened. But then the little shits took over before we could do anything. I guess I’ll start by letting you know that there are two of us left. (three, if we count Rowan, but I’m not). What I thought was going to be a quiet summer getaway with kids my age has turned into a nightmare.
For one, we have been cornered inside the head counselor’s underground secret bunker. If you want to know why she has a secret military bunker, I guess you should keep reading.
Because shit gets weirder than animal crackers having the power to turn adults into kids, and vice versa. When I made my first post, I thought that was it for us. I thought for sure there must have been a self-destruct somewhere—which meant whoever was running this camp was waiting for something like this. I was sure we were going to die, so after making the post, I have to admit with ya’ll—I just slept. I curled up, tried to ignore Harry and Carmel calling our names through childish laugher, and went to sleep with the thought in my head that I was completely at peace with what I had done with my life.
Sure, I was young. Seventeen years old is too young to be ripped apart by littles who are in fact grown adults. But as I was falling into slumber and allowing myself to fall, with my head resting in my lap, my head turned towards a separate pile of files on the other side of the room—I realized I really wanted to know how this was possible. There was so much I needed to know. Why did eight-year-old Eleanor Summers have a file where here birthday dated back to 1979? Why had supposedly innocent sugary snacks turned our adorable littles into mini psychopaths?
These kids were not kids, somehow. But how? How was that even possible? Could it be that the files were wrong?
1979 was definitely 45.
But Eleanor Summers couldn’t be 45 years old. I knew what 45 looked like. I knew that they thought like. They spent half of their time on Facebook laughing at outdated memes, and the other half… I don’t know, working? They have job’s! They’re happily married with kids, maybe soon grandkids! That was not Eleanor Summers. Because Eleanor Summers was most definitely eight years old. I had played several rounds of teddy-bears picnic, and spent hours reassuring her that Harry's ghost stories were in fact not real, enough times for me to know that this little kid was little—and a kid.
But something was bothering me. More than the secret military bunker, and magic age-regressing animal crackers. When I first signed up to Camp Redwood, one of the tag-lines to gain attraction had been, “Solve mysteries in the woods in the dead of night, with nothing but a flashlight and your fellow campers!” I had no idea I would be solving this thing on my own, trapped inside a bunker.
“What are you doing?” Rowan, who was still looking through Allison’s dinosaur laptop, turned to me with half lidded eyes, when I slowly got to my feet, careful not to make too much noise, and crept over to the pile of separate files which seemed to be crumbling apart from age. He kept his voice low, but it sounded almost like a whine. He could have been scared, but from the way he was sitting, cross-legged with a frowny face, I figured something must have been going on with him. The guy looked tired. More tired than normal.
The bags under his eyes were practically shadowing his face, and were an odd contrast to unusually ashy colored cheeks and slightly dilated eyes. Still though, Rowan refused to look vulnerable. I caught glimpse of Harry’s raybans sitting on his head, pinning back thick dark brown curls from falling in front of sleepy eyes. Maybe he was finally losing his cool and breaking out of the well-constructed façade he had been hiding behind since Teddy disappeared.
We had just narrowly escaped a crowd of psycho littles high on age-regressing sugary snacks who were doing who-the-fuck knows to the other counselors who had been captured, so I didn’t blame him looking like that. I guess he couldn’t look me in the eye, because in Rowan’s mind, he was the reason why this happened. He was the leader, and the camp had fallen to psychopathic little eight year olds who had taken half of the counselors hostage, and the other half—most likely taken apart in the physical sense, after what we had witnessed in Cassie’s cabin. Still though, it wasn’t Rowan’s fault. He could sit there and pull a face all he wanted, it’s not like I was going to blow up at him for getting us stuck down here. He actually saved us.
And trapped us, judging from the footsteps upstairs, Carmel and Harry still bouncing around looking for us.
It was a game in their heads. The little’s thought it was cat and mouse. Harry and Carmel were the oblivious cats prowling, while we were the mice, hoping to fucking GOD we weren’t caught and eaten. Ignoring Rowan, I glimpsed what looked like a box full of DVD’S—all of which were labelled with dates and names. I saw familiar ones, my heart racing into my throat. Phoebe. Eli. Cassandra.
Each DVD had one of the kid’s names scribbled on the front, as well as a date.
I found Eleanor’s right at the back of the box.
Eleanor Summers.
08/05/2021. (PM)
Before I could hesitate and think what I was doing, I slid the DVD into the portable player attached to the MacBook. Rowan, to my surprise, didn’t move. But he did make an acknowledging noise when the screen flickered to what looked like video footage. Peering at the screen, I found myself staring at a small white room. There was no door. Only a wooden desk and a chair, and sitting on it was a middle aged woman with dark blonde curls tied into a strict ponytail. She was wearing what looked like a prison jumpsuit.
Her eyes were eerily glued to the camera, unblinking. Her wrists were cuffed in front of her. Though from the look on her face, she saw the restraints as a game. Her eyes lit up with intrigue and I could practically see the cogs in her mind starting to turn as she struggled with them.
As soon as I saw this woman, I felt all of my nerve endings set alight. I wanted to turn the screen off, or look away. But once I was looking at the screen, I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. “Let’s try this again.” There was a woman offscreen. She sounded young. Too young to be in that kind of authority. I figured there was no way teenagers were being hired as special ops agents, but I guessed I was wrong. She cleared her throat. “It is 4:35 exactly. August 5th 2021. My name is Agent Lemrac,” she stated. “I am asking once again for you to comply with us. As I have said several times, the court are willing to lessen your sentence if you plead guilty with insanity.”
The woman surprised me with a snorting laugh. She seemed to come alive, leaning forward with animated features, her brow reaching her hairline. She was acting like a child, bouncing up and down in the seat, her lips stretching into a wider grin. “What did you just say?”
There was a pause. I could tell the woman was intentionally antagonising the interviewer.
“It means you have been legally declared insane,” the interviewer stumbled over her words slightly. “Mrs Summers, it would be in your best interest to work with us to lessen your current sentence which at the moment is standing at,” the sounds of shuffling paper crackled through the speakers. The interviewer cleared her throat again rustling paper. “Thirty six years. Without parole.”
The woman didn’t speak, only continued to smile—and the interviewer delved further into the sentence. “If you do in fact plead guilty with declared insanity, you will be sentenced to a program which is in the process of supporting and rehabilitating people with your…” she caught herself for a moment. I could tell this interviewer had a biased opinion and it was definitely showing through her interviewing style. I could hear the rapid intakes of her breath as she hurried through what seemed to be a script she was reading from. “Conditions.” She finished. “The Redwood program aims to help people exactly like you.”
Redwood? I thought.
Like… Camp Redwood?
Rowan whistled behind me. I guess I could call that a reaction. The guy was probably still in shock after seeing Café de Teddy splattered all over little Cassie’s cabin floor. I should have known those little bitches weren’t playing Operation for eight hours straight. Turning my attention from Rowan and back to the screen, the woman in the jumpsuit appeared to have changed tactics. Her expression twisted into nonchalance. She leaned back in her chair. “I am not pleading insane because I am not insane.”
“Mrs Summers—”
The woman cut her off. “I am not crazy.” She raised her hands “I am doing what needs to be done.” She leaned forward. “Humanity suffers in the skin. We age and die— and how is that fair? What if we want to see the next millennium? And the next two millennia after that? Why should our bodies dictate our lifespan? Why should we sit here and wait to rot and wither and die when we have the intelligence and mindset to do it? If nobody else is willing to throw ethics aside to take a step forwards in human evolution, I should do it myself.” She folded her arms across her chest, again, like a child. “I did what was to be done.”
“Dr. Summers.” The interviewer’s tone grew stiff. “You and your colleagues conducted illegal and unethical procedures on your family and friends—as well as four other victims.”
The woman inclined her head. “You have a daughter, am I correct? I have a son.”
“A child you killed, Dr Summers.” The interviewer retorted in a hiss which was definitely expressing emotion. She ignored the mention of her daughter, but I could tell it had rattled her to her core. Her voice had cracked. This case was close to her.
That was obvious. Without seeing the interviewer herself, I could sense how uncomfortable she was, shuffling in the chair. Every so often I would hear the sound of her rubbing her hands on her knees and tapping her shoe against the chair leg. She oozed anxiety, not just from her tone of voice, but the way the frame seemed to move with her. “Dr. Summers, you used your son in your research, along with several of his friends. This was not science.” Her voice shook. I heard her sharp inhale. Unprofessional, but very human. Instead of staying stoic and keeping to script, this agent was cracking apart. “It was murder.”
“Agent Lemrac, concentrate on the interview only.” An official voice crackled through what sounded like an intercom on screen.
“Got it.” She spoke through her teeth.
The woman was finding wounds and pressing on them. She was scanning the interviewer for vulnerabilities and preying on every insecurity. She leaned back speaking through a sigh. “Without my son’s sacrifice we wouldn’t have created an answer to death. To growing old and dying, and leaving loved ones behind.” Her voice softened into a murmur, but I didn’t trust it.
After identifying the shattering pieces of this interviewer which were very clear visible in her view, the woman was taking advantage.
“Agent Lemrac, you have a daughter. Am I correct in saying her name is Mari?
“That… that is not relevant.”
“Glioblastoma.” Dr. Summers lips curved into a sickening smile hidden behind mocking sympathy. “A sickness of the brain--which, unfortunately, I cannot fix. If your daughter’s brain was in my hands, I would try. However, not even a brand new body would help her. One which would never age or grow sick. And for that, I am deeply, deeply sorry.” She reached her cuffed hands forwards. “My condolences, Agent Lemrac. Honestly. I have to hand it to you. You are incredibly brave for coming here today and talking to me while abandoning your sick child.” She shook her head.
“Your daughter is dying of an incurable illness, suffering inside fragile skin which will break and fall apart and be unable to keep her standing for much longer. While my son will live on forever. He will see every millennia, a planet which will crumble and build itself back together. And maybe the end of the universe itself.” There was a twitch in her expression and a glitter in her eye I did not recognise. Insanity.
She was fucking insane. I was seeing the pure of it, the depraved and disgusting gleam in eyes empty of remorse and regret. This woman did not care what she had done. I could tell from the look on her face. If she had the chance, she would do this again.
But there was no way they were trying to say her cruelty and complete disregard for her son’s life was due to insanity.
“You are sick, Dr. Summers.” The interviewer said after a moment of gathering herself.
The woman shook her head with a chuckle. “I told you. I am not sick--”
“Sick in the head!” The interviewer’s voice exploded through the speakers in a shriek—a terrified cry she had been trying to hold in. I finally saw her—or at least the back of her. She was a young woman with light blonde hair falling loose on her shoulders. She was trembling. Slamming her hands down on the table, she screamed at the orange jumpsuit woman.
“You are psychologically fucked in the head! You psycho bitch! That is my sister!” She spoke through strangled sobs rattling her whole body. “Mari is my little sister. She is not my child.”
Her breaths were strangled and harboured. I noticed figures looming in the background, but she was continuing. “You killed your own fucking son,” she spat. “You are not legally insane, you are sick!” she shrieked. “You planned and put this together! You sit there and you talk about your son like he’s a… like he’s a tool! You deserve to rot. Do you hear me?” I noticed the orange jumpsuit woman was still smiling, satisfied with the interview’s reaction. Her words were spoken in a vicious poison as she leaned forward and spat directly in orange jumpsuit’s face.
“Agent Lemrac!” Whoever her superiors were—were panicking. “I told you not to turn it off. I knew this was going to happen. Can we stop the demonstration, please? Human emotions present inside an Aceville soldier are too powerful—"
Voices were murmuring in the background, and Agent Lemrac raised her hands. “I want to stop.” She choked out, her hands trembling. She spoke like she still had control over the situation and wasn’t being apprehended. “I want to stop. Do you hear me?” The interviewer was crying, I realized. “Stop the recording! I can’t do this. Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick—”
When the footage ended in a burst of static, I found myself backing away, something slimy creeping its way up my throat.
The woman in the orange jumpsuit who had murdered her son and countless others in what sounded like an attempt at playing god, was Eleanor Summers. I thought back to Teddy’s corpse, and the surgical precision of every organ’s removal. The young interviewer had mentioned colleagues of Eleanor.
Was it possible that Camp Redwood was in fact nothing more than a rehabilitation camp for murderous criminals? There was a loud bang from above, and I was torn from my thoughts.
I turned to Rowan, who had been unusually quiet. And I realized why, when I twisted around to find him three inches from my face, his laboured breath tickling my cheek.
The boy jumped back with a chuckle—like me noticing him was some kind of game, before diving back into the chair. I did notice something odd, as my thoughts spiralled. Rowan couldn’t sit still. Slumped in the leather spinning chair, he fingers tapped a rhythm on the armrests while his feet jumped up and down. In the dim light of the bunker, I glimpsed a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead and the flesh of his neck. He looked to be… feverish—and now that I was looking at him properly, all of my attention on the boy, I noticed small things which seemed… off about him.
For one, he wasn’t coming up with a plan. Rowan always had a plan. Even if he wasn’t completely sure of it, or was completely winging it. This time though, he was strangely quiet. I found my voice when he stuck out his tongue at me. “What are you looking at?”
“Rowan.” I spoke softly, careful not to garner attention from above us where Harry and Carmel were still clamouring around, playing games. “Are you… feeling okay?” I asked, when he turned back to the laptop, manically biting his fingernails.
“I dunnnooooo, Josie! Am I feeeeeeling okaaaaaayyyyy?” He surprised me with an uncharacteristic laugh.
But I did know it.
I knew it from earlier when he reacted to Allison’s bunker and I had been too freaked out to realize that I was dragging along the enemy with me.
Because the fucking idiot had consumed animal crackers. I had seen him for myself earlier, pouring a pack into his mouth for a snack. Which meant either the ‘kids’ had intentionally dosed him with mind altering sugary snacks, or the more likely, he could not resist those preservatives which was the equivalent of caffeine. It’s not like I could blame him when he harboured the weight of an entire camp, but come on, did he really have to sacrifice his own fucking mind to keep himself awake?
Rowan wasn’t just biting. His nails. He was gnawing. Which he previously thought was a filthy habit. He had yelled at a camper for chewing on her nails a few days earlier.
Now that I was noticing it, I couldn’t… stop noticing it. The boy’s whole demeanour had changed; the way he was sinking into the chair, instead of sitting up straight like usual—- I used to call it having a stick up his ass. The boy started typing on the laptop, ignoring me. But when I watched the pattern of his fingers, he was just typing gibberish. Footsteps pounded above us, Harry and Carmel acting as the kid’s’ brainwashed foot-soldiers. Or, more likely somehow, if the animal crackers had caused the littles, or I guess, the fully grown forty year old criminals, to relapse in age-- then maybe it was possible for the same thing to happen to us. To Rowan.
I could feel myself starting to back away, but there was nowhere to run. I just slammed into a cupboard. My gaze flicked to Rowan again, who was tapping a beat on the laptop tracking pad, swaying back and forth, his eyes elsewhere before his gaze found mine. “Marcoooooo!” Harry shouted from above, giggling with Carmel.
I had to guess their mental age had to be at least 8-10 years old. Which meant I wasn’t just dealing with a camp full of forty-year-old psycho’s, I was also dealing with mentally relapsed counselors acting like toddlers.
Rowan seemed to jolt in the chair, twisting his head around, his eyes suddenly incredibly childlike and playful, and very Un-Rowan, were finding the ceiling, his mouth stretching into a smile, like he was seeing butterflies. His eyes flashed to me, and I caught a twitch in his lip. I knew that look. It was the look on my seven year old sister, who knew mom was mad at me, and wanted to make it even worse.
His cheeks were starting to blossom scarlet from what must have been the overwhelming urge to laugh. Rowan pressed his lips together and held in a breath like a hamster, and the asshole was fucking with me. Waiting for me to beat him to it by accident. Kids were fucking ruthless, but there was something terrifying about an 18 year old with a little kid’s mind.
I lifted my index to my lips, miming for him not to even try, but the boy just mimicked me, bugging out his eyes and pressing his finger to his grinning mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.” I managed to whisper. The boy was definitely playing his own game, moving in twitching movements, baiting me. When he cupped his mouth, I almost let out a cry, but then he dropped his arms with a giggle, as if to say, “I’m just kidding!”
Slowly, I turned around, grabbed the salt I’d found in Allison’s cupboard, and a flat can of soda. Without making too much movement, I poured a handful of salt into the can. But Rowan seemed to know exactly what I was doing. Because in the time it was taking me to advance towards him with the can of salty soda, one arm shakily ready to grab hold of him, and put him into a headlock, he was cupping his mouth, all logic and everything adult, everything he had been as our leader, igniting in playful eyes, leaving me the last one standing.
“Pollloooooo!”
By the time Rowan had managed to reveal our hiding place in a spluttered laugh, I had hold of the squirming boy, one arm wrapped around his neck, my other forcing the can of soda into his mouth. I had definitely miscalculated his strength. During camp Redwood activities, he was always the last one to come back from the trail, holding his knees and panting. I figured he was unfit. However, I was wrong. Underneath his shirt, the guy had some serious muscles.
It was like attacking a brick wall. However, Rowan was mentally a kid. So, I had my intelligence and logic on my side. When it became obvious I wasn’t going to get anywhere with brute strength, I resorted to tickling him, which made him squirm, squeaking out a laugh. When he opened his mouth to yell at me to stop, I took my chance, thrusting the can into his lips and holding his nose so he swallowed it down.
“No!” His laughter turned into muffled yelling, as he batted his fists at my chest. “No, no, no! Get off, get off!”
His body convulsed as the salt did its job, causing the boy to lurch to his knees and choke up forbidden animal crackers in a gooish sludge which turned my stomach. By the time Rowan seemed half himself and half not, still kneeling, his head pressed against the floor, Harry was poking his head through the door with a goonish grin. “Found you!” He giggled, before forcing the door open, allowing Carmel and Callen, freshly caught and mentally turned into littles, to advance down the stairs with equally terrifying grins. There was something wrong with Harry’s face, and I only realized it when the guy himself was hauling me from the bunker, Carmel dragging a barely responsive Rowan. There was nothing in Harry’s expression, only blind childish excitement at winning the game. When he dragged me out of Allison’s cabin and threw me to the ground, I realized he too had insane strength I had not been expecting. But that thought quickly retracted when I was seeing his face in the light of a crescent moon lighting up the sky an eerie glow. Harry’s cheeks were puffy and swollen, his right eye way bigger than it should have been.
When he spoke, his voice was more of a lisp. This was something far more realistic than magical animal crackers fucking with his brain.
“He needs help!” I managed to choke out when Carmel wrapped jump-rope around my wrists. Next to me, Rowan was refusing to get up, still choking up salty soda, groaning into his hands. Every time Callen tried to restrain him, he hissed out like an animal.
“Do you hear me?!” I struggled violently. “Harry needs—”
BANG.
Is what it felt like. The feeling of something—what felt and sounded like a toy car—colliding with my temples, sent me onto the ground, my head spinning itself off of its axis. I remember lying on my back and frowning at the moon which almost looked like it was getting closer to me, blurring into a white ball of light—before reality sunk in, and it was in fact Carmel’s converse coming down to finish me off. I didn’t stay knocked out for long. But I did dream.
I think you can call it a dream? I was lying in bed at home; my room drowned in the dark. I was cosy, curled up in my blankets, when a clammy hand slammed over my mouth, rousing me from slumber. There were two figures in my room. They didn’t have faces. They just existed as shadows, silhouettes. Before one of them raised something above their head, and… impact.
It was the same impact as the toy car hitting me, snapping me back to that night. It wasn’t a dream. Because I remembered his clammy fingers over my mouth, and his hisses for me to shut up as he dragged me from my room.
My parents stood in front of me with expressions of sympathy. Basked in warm light, my mom and dad looked almost otherworldly. “For the best.” Was what they mouthed when my own phantom screams slammed into me. I asked them why, and they didn’t reply, allowing him to pull me further and further from what I knew, from my life as I knew it. But.. that couldn’t be real. I had memories of getting on the bus to camp Redwood. I could recall the whole journey. So, why… why was my tangled mind saying otherwise?
When I gathered myself, the first thing I realized was I was sitting down. I was outside, cool night air grazing my bare arms. There was something attached to me, jerking violently, And it took me several disorientating blinks to understand that I was tied back to back with Rowan. My head pounded, and something wet and warm dripped down my temple. Great. I could add head injury to the long list of things to worry about.
“Let me go you little fucking witch.”
Rowan was back to himself, though from the muffled hissing and the sound of choking—I had to guess he was being force-fed animal crackers.
“Let me—mpphmmm. little…. fucking… mphmmphhmhppmm!”
“Rowan.” I managed to get out in a croak. Through flickering eyes, I caught glimpse of a familiar figure dancing around us. Shivers rocketed down my spine, and I wrenched at the jump-rope restraints, but they did a surprisingly job of restraining my arms behind my back.
Eleanor was with Rowan, while Eli was knelt in front of me. Looking at him, the boy had definitely aged in the face—and I couldn’t help wondering what exactly he had done as a forty something year old to be sent to this place.
“Josie!” Rowan responded in a wail. “Josie. Wake the FUCK up.”
“Stop swearing.”
Eleanor spoke with the cold tone of her actual age.
“Oh, yeah?” Rowan spluttered. “Fuck you.” The boy’s laugh was still rough from almost vomiting his insides out from too much salt intake. “I’m sorry, you were a fucking boomer all along?!” He wriggled in the restraints, lunging forwards, which sent me backwards.
“Stop swearing, Rowan.” Was all the girl responded with calmly.
“Like I’m going to listen to you!” He sneered. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fucking fuck!” What are you going to do, huh? Bite me with your false teeth?” The sound of saliva hitting skin made me wince. He was pissed. I had no doubt his completely rational anger was going to get us killed. Rowan was also somehow getting mixed up between forty and eighty. Though he was unwillingly snacking on mind bending sugary goodness.
“Fudge, Rowan.” Eleanor spoke in a giggle.
“What?!”
“Say fudge. Not fuck.”
“No.”
His hiss of pain caught me off guard. I don’t know what she was doing to him, but it was hurting him.
“You fudging fudge! I’m going to fudging kill you when I get out of these fudging ropes—“ his manic cursing became a muffled yell.
“Say fudge,” Eleanor hummed, followed by his hiss when the palm of her hand skinned his cheek. “Fuck is a bad word. You even said so yourself and you’re my favourite counselor.”
He heaved out a breath.
“You fudge,” Rowan spat. “When I get out of this, I am going to fudging kill you, you fudging—” His manic ranting morphed, once again, into muffled yelling, after another fistful of animal crackers were forced into his mouth. When I risked twisting around, I could see his rebellion slowly starting to simmer out as he relaxed slightly. I wanted to yell at him to keep a clear head before cold fingers were dipping under my chin and forcing my head around where I found myself face to face with Eli.
“I like you, Josie,” he said, before untying me and pulling me to my feet. Now at the age of nine or ten, he was a lot stronger. When I tried to pull away, the cruel blade of a knife grazed my gut. I caught his grin. “But we don’t need you.” Eli pointed to Rowan.
“We just want them.”
I followed his pointer finger which went from Rowan to Harry and Carmel, who were just standing there like fucking idiots, probably awaiting the next game. Harry’s face was getting redder. It looked like he was suffocating, and yet his grin was growing wider and wider, splitting his lips apart. “Rowan Atlas.” Eleanor said, dragging him to his feet. Something was stapled to his forehead head, which caused him to howl in pain, hissing another strangled line of “Fudge”. but I couldn’t read what it was.
“Camp leader. Intelligent, and problem solving skills.”
“Harry Carlisle.” Eli nodded his head with a smile. “Quick thinker. Strong minded.”
“Carmel Locke.” Cassie spoke behind me. She had her arms folded, a wry smile on her lips. “Smarter than she makes out—- an independent learner, and can work well under pressure.”
Looking at these kids, I felt sick to my stomach. They were planning something—and had the intelligence of renowned scientists, which was what I gathered from the footage on the MacBook. “What?” was all I could hiss out, as Eli prodded the blade of the knife into my back, ushering me to walk. “What are you talking about?”
“Duh.” He spoke in a more tweeny giggle. “Like I said, Miss Josie. You’re my favorite counselor but we don’t need you, so I’m going to use you for parts.” He laughed when a shiver spiderwebbed down my spine. “See! I told you I was going to show you my collection!”
“But… what do you need them for?”
Eli pressed his index finger to his lips with a laugh before forcing me to face forwards. “That’s a secret!”
When I didn’t, or couldn’t move, he shoved me into a stumbling power-walk, and I managed to turn my head quickly, making feverish eye contact with Rowan.
“Rowan.” I said calmly through the gutter in my throat. “Get…. Get help.”
If I was going to die, I needed him to get a hold of himself and somehow alert the outside world what was going on.
“From whom, Josie?!” He wailed back—and as I was dragged away, I could once again sense the childish undertones in his voice.
I had no choice but to obey Eli’s orders. If I didn’t want a knife in my back. He took me to the main lunch cabin, which, when I set foot inside, almost sent me to my knees.
Something lurched inside me, and I was screaming with no voice, staggering backwards, only to be shoved onto my face. In front of me was what had been the lunch hall, fully converted into the beginning of a laboratory.
What had been cafeteria tables were fashioned into makeshift gurney’s and beds, and I was looking at all of the missing counselors. Yuri and Noah had been skinned completely, their faces laid out on a makeshift surgical table. Joey had been ripped open, his heart and brain removed, a glittering metallic substance creeping its way across his forehead. It was then when I remembered Eleanor Summers words.
She wanted to prevent death and preserve the human mind. Looking at what was in front of me, this was the start of it. There was equipment I had never seen before. Lily’s body was empty, carved out completely, tubes forced inside her. When I glimpsed her fingers move and begin to ball into a fist, I saw red. I saw fucking red. The exit was so close and yet Eli, fucking Eli, wielded his knife. I think that is when part of me gave up. My brain just stopped. It short circuited. Seeing my friends murdered and yet somehow being kept alive through playing god, my body slumped to the ground. I was numb. Completely numb.
I’m not sure what would have happened if those bloody saws and instruments which had been used on my friends were used on me too.
Luckily, that did not happen. Before Eli could get his slimy hands on me, he crumpled to the ground in an almost cartoon-like fashion, and standing over me was Harry. Who was looking better. When he grasped hold of me and helped me up, I only had one word. “Out.” And he was nodding, his eyes glistening as he drunk in our friends’ fate.
“How?” I managed to sputter out, when we made it out of the cabin, ducking behind a tree. Harry turned to me, motioning for me to shut up. There was a group of now ten to eleven year olds already running around, searching for what I guessed was him.
“I’m allergic to peanut butter,” Harry murmured, his grasp tightening on my wrist as he led me across the camp, the two of us stumbling.
“What, and you just magically healed?”
He didn’t respond to that, which bothered me.
“The bunker is our best shot,” I hissed out. “I think we can get in contact with someone down there.” I paused, unable to stop myself. “What makes you so important?”
“Dunno. Maybe I’m their favorite.”
When we found Allison’s cabin, which was more of a safehouse (an exposed safehouse) I found Rowan sitting on the wooden porch with his legs swinging over the side. “Rowan!” Harry groaned. I found it hard to believe their roles had been switched. Now he was the one yelling at the camp-leader. “I told you to stay inside!”
He ushered the boy inside, before barricading the door with some hefty looking equipment. I could tell from the grin on his face that our so-called leader was once again no longer himself.
I had to bite back a groan. “You’re kidding.” I said, pointing to Rowan, who buried his head in his knees and blew a raspberry. “Does he look and act like our leader right now?!”
“It’s Rowan, Josie.”
“He’s a liability.”
“He’s our friend! Wouldn’t Rowan do the same?”
Yes, he would. But. He would also realize we’re lost causes.
“Gag him with something.” I said. “If he makes any more noise, we’re dumping him.”
“He’s a kid!”
“Just the mind of one.”
I don’t know how animal crackers worked, but his age seemed to be progressively younger. This time he just sat with wide eyes watching us.
Harry almost tore apart the place looking for means of communication, before an old fashioned ringing sound made me jump.
“What was that?” Harry turned to me with his lip curled.
“How am I supposed to know?!” I hissed. “Keep looking!” But when I ducked under the table, my hands crawled under the desk, finding a wire—and attached to that, an ancient looking phone which looked straight out of a 1940’s movie, a bright green rotary phone.
Hesitantly, I answered it, lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Did you awaken the subjects, Agent Salta?"
The voice on the other end was a woman, an oldish sounding woman with the tinge of a British accent.
“What?” I shot a look at Harry before shaking my head. “No. My name is Josie Greenfield. We’re at Camp Redwood, and we need help.”
The woman paused.
“Where is Agent Salta?” She cleared her throat. “This line is reserved for communication with agents only.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about!" I squeaked out. “My name is Josie, and whatever is happening here, we need help!”
“Josie. Did you awaken the subjects?”
I paused after a moment, shooting Harry a look when he tried to take the phone off of me. “Yes.”
“And… are our agents unavailable?”
“I don’t understand.”
“When a health and safety breach is activated, our agents are awakened to deal with the Project Spearhead subjects if they were to ever go rogue, or become conscious enough to think. Josie, can you tell me what is in front of you? Describe it to me.”
I held my breath. Next to the hidden phone under the desk was what looked like mismatched wires, all of which had been severed. I lowered myself slowly, poking at mess. “Wires. I see… cut up wires.” I whispered. “Does this mean they know about you?”
She hummed. “Ah…That makes sense. The only way to activate our sleeper handlers would be to send out the signal. You appear to have been sabotaged. Unless activated manually, our agents cannot help you. I am sorry. They are your problem now.” The woman paused.
“If I were you, I would hope and pray they have not sabotaged the self-destruct. If you find that, then you may be able to save yourselves and find peace.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for your service, Josie Greenfield.”
“Wait.” I managed to get out. “Wait, no! You can’t just… you can’t leave us! We need help!”
I found myself yelling at nothing when the phone went dead. The dull tone of the dead ringtone was clanging in my ears before footsteps from up above. “Fuck this.” Harry picked up a lead pipe. “They’re still little kids, right? I mean, their head must still be partly kids—- so let’s fucking beat their heads in.”
He noticed something, then, starting forwards towards the mess of files I had left earlier. Harry knelt on the ground and picked up Eli’s file, his eyes wide. But he wasn’t staring at the dates confirming the little boy’s age.
Instead, Harry pointed at the bottom of the file. “I don’t want to freak you out, Josie,” he whispered. Initially, I didn’t know what he was trying to show before I glimpsed notes scrawled at the bottom of the file, followed by a signature. “But I’m pretty sure that is my fucking writing.”
Harry was right.
I pulled the paperwork off of him, flicking through each file before turning my eyes to him. “Who the fuck are you?”
A clanging sound from above broke the tension, and whatever Harry was about to reply with was strangled in his throat. He slammed a hand over his mouth.
“Guys?”
The voice twisted me up inside, threatening to release a shriek from my mouth I had managed to clamp shut.
Teddy.
“Are you down here?” His voice was strained, and had an odd tone to it. “I can’t… I can’t see you.”
…
Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?! It’s been a blur of a week. We’ve managed to stay down here, surviving off of Allison’s rations. Rowan isn’t getting any better. He seems to have stopped mentally de-ageing at the age of maybe six. Harry has spent the last few days trying to get in contact with anyone, but it’s like they are IGNORING US.
I’ve been looking through everything I can find on Project Spearhead, but nothing points to Harry being involved. So. How is his signature all over the files? How is it possible that two friends I thought I knew several days ago, are now complete strangers?
Teddy keeps coming back.
He’s crying out to us.
I think he’s… in pain.
My god, I can’t stand this anymore. Please. CAMP REDWOOD NEEDS HELP.

Let me be the first to welcome you to the MotheOffspring, Nurturing/Support, Teaching/Education Resource Network, or? M.O.N.S.T.E.R. Nursery. My name is Sassy, short for Sasquatch. Yes, THAT sasquatch. Are there other kinds?! I'm a HCC (Healthcare Cryptid) here at the nursery. I also teach humans the survival basics of coming across a baby monster in the woods.
Anyhoo, you're probably wondering why Sasquatch are utilized as Labor and Delivery nurses. It's simple, really. We're natural born mothers. You see, we just love babies! We always have! All of that nonsense about whooping, tree knocking and vocalizations that we do in the woods when you guys are camping? Don't get scared! That's just us shouting out to our boys letting them know we have humans in the woods! Humans could possibly have a BABY with them. Now, I don't like to judge based on looks, but those bald human babies are so ugly? They're cute! Poor little things look like they have mange, though. Who would think a bald puppy is cute? Ew.
I digress. So, when it came to the M.O.N.S.T.E.R. Nursery? We were the natural choice. Even though I happen to be female? History tells us that male nursery nurses happen to have the best bonding with our little devils. Well, little devils and whoever else was born that day. Just look at Chewy over there bonding with that litter of werewolf pups born on the last full moon. He's so maternal? He's practically a breast.
Now, all babies are not created equal. Have you ever wondered which monster's baby is the loudest? I can promise you that you'd rather listen to that werewolf pup litter any day over being 5 minutes late with Baby Siren Head's bottle. I had a headache for a week. When Vlad and Countess Bathory had their little undead bundle of joy last month? You'd be surprised how quick a Bigfoot can prick and milk their finger to get a fresh bottle of nutritious blood for that adorable, pale little parasite. He definitely had a healthy appetite, especially if you were B positive. Vlad and Countess Bathory couldn't have been happier. Patient satisfaction has always been a priority for HCCs (Healthcare Cryptid) since day one! We've never gotten below a 5 on the Jack Link's scale of 0 - 5 jerkies. We are collectively very proud of this fact! It's such an accomplishment for Bigfoot and all of Sasquatch kind.
Okay, I could understand why you think we're a little full of ourselves. I, mean, when Sasquatch are the chosen ones to be the top requested HCC? It's a far fall to the 2nd position. Look, we can't all be God's Chosen Ones. Yes, he exists. Yes, he created us. You're getting distracted, again. We aren't all going to argue semantics on what is Creationism and what is Darwinism and all of that. I'm too busy trying to teach incompetent, um cough cough, INTERESTED humans how to provide the most basic care for any creature's neonates (medical term for newborn) that they might stumble across while enjoying hiking, camping, fishing, etc. The priority? The newborn. Additional concerns?
1) MotheFather finding humans around newborn and attacking them.
2) Humans treating the scenario like an episode of "Jack Ass" and thinking it's a good idea to "mess with" the newborn and? Again? Mom/Dad attacks them.
3) Basically? A human breathing will set Mom/Dad off. Most creatures just don't want humans around. They can't be trusted. Sorry, Guys. It's been that way every since you refused to credit Chewy in the '67 Patterson–Gimlin film.
So? Your first reaction, if you see a baby creature? Look for it's parents. If you see them? Run. Run fast. Like, put Forrest Gump to shame kinda runnin'. Those parents don't want you there for any reason at all. Pick 'em up and put 'em down the whole way back down the trail.
If you don't see the parents? Proceed slowly and with caution. Now, don't let everything I've said scare you into not helping a baby monster. They're babies, after all. Please, check on them. Just be aware of your surroundings so as not to frighten the wood creatures which will, in turn, attack you. Then? It's just a bad day for everyone involved.
So? Depending on the woodland creature? You'll want to know what action you need to take to help the baby and? Hopefully? Survive assisting. The first thing you'll want to do is call out/whistle, whatever you have to do to try to get someone's attention. Look around and listen. What do you see and hear? If it's nothing? Again, proceed with caution. If you hear howling, growling, tree knocking, whooping, any of these things? Leave, either their parents are still around or we're there and will then takeover. I know. It's confusing to try to tell when we're tree knocking hoping you have a baby with you or if we know there's a baby around and we don't want you around the baby. Really, if at all possible, just don't mess with the babies if you don't have to. With that having been said? Let's proceed!
As you cautiously approach? Keep making noise letting everyone know you're there. We don't want to scare the life, or afterlife, out of these little ones. They're at their most vulnerable right now. Let's use Chewy's patients today as an example. You traipse along and stumble over a werewolf den. Well, that's not something you see every day. You hear soft whimpering. About 4 or 5 little werewolf pup heads pop up out of the den. How's everyone looking? Is anyone hurt? No? Then check your supplies. It just so happens you were successful fishing earlier. Werewolf pups love fish almost as much as moonbathing and cutting their baby teeth on a human femur. They'll be thankful, the Alpha male and female will be thankful and you'll really be thankful. You get to walk away, karma and limbs intact.
Next? It would be highly likely that you'd come across a wendigo, skinwalker, rake slenderman, etc. besides just a litter of werewolf pups. Try to prepare yourself as much as possible for these encounters. The better prepared? The better off everyone will be. The best part? These creatures won't want your everlasting soul in infancy. Those challenges don't present until adolescence. So? Enjoy the respite for the moment. Now? No matter what the situation? You'll always want to approach with caution and announce your arrival. It's saved not only many a human? It's saved a lot of cryptids as well. Try to have some sort of food item on you that's rather filling. You'd prefer that over them making YOU the food item.
So, as we proceed down the trail, there's a cabin to the left and it's the last house but do not enter, please. The last good hearted Samaritan did and, well, let's just say he had a run in with a girl locked in the cellar who wasn't quite herself. That's probably about the most PC way of explaining demonic possession. Anyhoo, there was bad press for a year and visitors to the park fell off, it just was a big mess. They ended up doing some kind of cybernetic enhancement and now the good Samaritan has a chainsaw for an arm. He's done a great job keeping them all in line. Overall? That was one we got right.
Since I brought up Vlad and the Countess Bathory's bouncing little bundle of bloodsucker? It's important to know that if you are in your domicile, and R.V.'s count, vampires cannot enter without an invitation from you. So, if you are camping in your R.V. and someone comes knocking late at night? Don't answer. If they aren't a vampire? They can come back the next day. If they don't come back? You definitely made the right decision. Now, the problem is? If you encounter a vampire in the wild. Hopefully? They've already set their sights on whoever they picked that night to be their victim. If not? A dropper of Holy Water as perfume on either side of your neck is a nice deterrent. Again, if the little count is there by himself? He's clearly gotten away from the castle. He needs returned immediately. Go to the nearest tree that displays a "break in case of emergency" box. Break the glass, take the bag of beef jerky out, shake it. Every Sasquatch in a 5 mile radius will come running to you. Point the baby vampire out and we'll be glad to take it from there.
Something I should bring up to our do-gooders ready to risk it all: if you can't swim? Don't try to help aquatic creatures. It won't end well. It never does. Little fry just aren't acclimated to landlubbers. Merpups are tough for even us to handle. They get scared, you can't swim, bad things happen. So? If you're determined to help any baby monster no matter where they reside? Take swimming lessons. You'll thank me. Trust me on this.
Don't let the fae trip you up, either. They're mischievous. They'll also try to sneak a changeling in on you if you do bring your human babies to the forest. If you respect walking around fairy rings and respect mother nature? The fae shouldn't be an issue. If you don't? Well, you were warned.
So, what have we not covered? Flying creatures. Yes, they present a challenge even we Sasquatch find difficult. It's hard to assess the needs of a baby that's wrapped in the arms of a mother flying 75 feet above your head. Even though the task is daunting? It's a challenge we'll definitely take on. We just watch and wait for Mom to go on the hunt and we take a peak at that tiny little velociraptor in that nest, with it's mouth hanging wide open, just awaiting a morsel. Now, the Mothman's baby was an experience. Cocoons are just something you have to see for yourself, especially when they're 6 feet tall. It's truly fascinating!
I think that covers everything for today's lesson. Bear in mind, we're beginning the summer season here in the U.S. Encounters are going to increase between cryptids and humans so be aware and care when it comes to our babies. We're aware and care when it comes to yours. Stay safe and Sasquatch on!

Everything in my inventory is up for trade. The most valuable items are listed here, the rest you can find in My Inventory

Feel free to Add Me or even better send a Trade Offer. Open for any suggestions: upgrades, downgrades / knives, gloves, skins / stickers, patterns, floats.

All Buyouts are listed in cash value.

KNIVES

★ Butterfly Knife Freehand FN #1, B/O: $2500

★ Butterfly Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $822

★ Butterfly Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $616

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★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW #1, B/O: $1300

★ Bayonet Autotronic FN, B/O: $1050

★ Bayonet Tiger Tooth MW, B/O: $629

★ Bayonet Bright Water FT, B/O: $326

★ Bayonet Safari Mesh BS, B/O: $233

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★ Karambit Lore FT, B/O: $1110

★ Karambit Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $840

★ Karambit Freehand MW, B/O: $784

★ Karambit Bright Water MW, B/O: $759

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★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Fade FN, B/O: $1801

★ M9 Bayonet Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $751

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★ Nomad Knife Fade FN, B/O: $1156

★ Nomad Knife Slaughter MW, B/O: $544

★ Nomad Knife Blue Steel WW, B/O: $318

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★ Flip Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $646

★ Flip Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $574

★ Flip Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) MW, B/O: $552

★ Flip Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $257

★ Flip Knife Freehand FT, B/O: $255

★ StatTrak™ Flip Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $287

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★ Huntsman Knife Lore FN, B/O: $461

★ Huntsman Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $436

★ Huntsman Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $353

★ Huntsman Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $212

★ Huntsman Knife Bright Water FT, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT MW, B/O: $129

★ Huntsman Knife Forest DDPAT BS, B/O: $123

★ StatTrak™ Huntsman Knife Rust Coat BS, B/O: $127

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★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $375

★ Bowie Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $363

★ Bowie Knife Tiger Tooth FN, B/O: $269

★ Bowie Knife Crimson Web WW, B/O: $192

★ Bowie Knife Bright Water FN, B/O: $159

★ Bowie Knife Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $126

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★ Stiletto Knife Slaughter FN, B/O: $616

★ Stiletto Knife Crimson Web FT, B/O: $412

★ StatTrak™ Stiletto Knife Night Stripe FT, B/O: $227

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★ Falchion Knife Lore FT, B/O: $214

★ Falchion Knife Autotronic FT, B/O: $192

★ Falchion Knife Scorched WW, B/O: $105

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★ Survival Knife Crimson Web BS, B/O: $216

★ Survival Knife Case Hardened FT, B/O: $198

★ Survival Knife Scorched FT, B/O: $111

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★ Shadow Daggers Fade FN, B/O: $368

★ Shadow Daggers Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $228

★ Shadow Daggers, B/O: $201

★ Shadow Daggers Damascus Steel FT, B/O: $108

★ Shadow Daggers Ultraviolet FT, B/O: $105

★ Shadow Daggers Black Laminate FT, B/O: $99

★ Shadow Daggers Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $85

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★ Gut Knife Doppler (Sapphire) MW #1, B/O: $1700

★ Gut Knife Gamma Doppler (Phase 1) FN, B/O: $223

★ Gut Knife Marble Fade FN, B/O: $203

★ Gut Knife Doppler (Phase 2) FN, B/O: $191

★ Gut Knife Case Hardened BS, B/O: $127

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★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife Doppler (Phase 4) FN, B/O: $199

★ Navaja Knife, B/O: $138

★ Navaja Knife Damascus Steel FN, B/O: $111

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★ Classic Knife Urban Masked FT, B/O: $146

★ StatTrak™ Classic Knife Stained BS, B/O: $168

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★ Ursus Knife Doppler (Phase 3) FN, B/O: $476

★ Ursus Knife, B/O: $375

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★ Skeleton Knife, B/O: $1137

★ Talon Knife, B/O: $608

★ Paracord Knife, B/O: $305

★ Survival Knife Forest DDPAT FT, B/O: $97

GLOVES

★ Moto Gloves Transport MW, B/O: $204

★ Moto Gloves Polygon BS, B/O: $142

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves Blood Pressure BS, B/O: $84

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

★ Moto Gloves 3rd Commando Company BS, B/O: $63

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★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Kimono WW, B/O: $1215

★ Specialist Gloves Tiger Strike FT, B/O: $672

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander FT, B/O: $305

★ Specialist Gloves Lt. Commander BS, B/O: $140

★ Specialist Gloves Crimson Web BS, B/O: $137

★ Specialist Gloves Buckshot FT, B/O: $75

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★ Driver Gloves Crimson Weave FT, B/O: $359

★ Driver Gloves Imperial Plaid BS, B/O: $229

★ Driver Gloves Overtake BS, B/O: $77

★ Driver Gloves Racing Green FT, B/O: $48

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★ Sport Gloves Omega FT, B/O: $739

★ Sport Gloves Amphibious BS #2, B/O: $733

★ Sport Gloves Arid BS, B/O: $292

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★ Hand Wraps Giraffe MW, B/O: $212

★ Hand Wraps Leather FT, B/O: $160

★ Hand Wraps Desert Shamagh MW, B/O: $101

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★ Broken Fang Gloves Yellow-banded MW, B/O: $185

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point FT, B/O: $67

★ Broken Fang Gloves Needle Point WW, B/O: $59

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★ Hydra Gloves Case Hardened BS, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald FT, B/O: $65

★ Hydra Gloves Emerald BS, B/O: $62

WEAPONS

AK-47 Case Hardened BS, B/O: $130

AK-47 Bloodsport MW, B/O: $79

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Fuel Injector BS, B/O: $76

AK-47 Bloodsport FT, B/O: $70

AK-47 Neon Rider MW, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AK-47 Aquamarine Revenge FT, B/O: $72

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AWP Fade FN, B/O: $1039

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Asiimov FT, B/O: $139

AWP Wildfire MW, B/O: $95

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP BOOM MW, B/O: $93

AWP Duality FN, B/O: $81

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Asiimov BS, B/O: $79

AWP Chromatic Aberration FN, B/O: $60

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Hyper Beast FT, B/O: $68

StatTrak™ AWP Electric Hive FT, B/O: $55

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Desert Eagle Blaze FN, B/O: $623

Desert Eagle Emerald Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $241

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Cobalt Disruption FN, B/O: $81

Desert Eagle Printstream FT, B/O: $54

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M4A1-S Blue Phosphor FN, B/O: $434

StatTrak™ M4A1-S Bright Water MW, B/O: $55

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M4A4 Poseidon FN, B/O: $1465

M4A4 Asiimov BS, B/O: $55

M4A4 Hellfire MW, B/O: $50

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USP-S Kill Confirmed MW, B/O: $72

USP-S Printstream FT, B/O: $69

StatTrak™ USP-S Kill Confirmed FT, B/O: $139

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AUG Flame Jörmungandr FN, B/O: $234

P90 Run and Hide FT, B/O: $147

Five-SeveN Candy Apple FN, B/O: $61

Trade Offer Link - Steam Profile Link - My Inventory

Knives - Bowie Knife, Butterfly Knife, Falchion Knife, Flip Knife, Gut Knife, Huntsman Knife, M9 Bayonet, Bayonet, Karambit, Shadow Daggers, Stiletto Knife, Ursus Knife, Navaja Knife, Talon Knife, Classic Knife, Paracord Knife, Survival Knife, Nomad Knife, Skeleton Knife, Patterns - Gamma Doppler, Doppler (Phase 1, Phase 2, Phase 3, Phase 4, Black Pearl, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald), Crimson Web, Lore, Fade, Ultraviolet, Night, Marble Fade (Fire & Ice, Fake FI), Case Hardened (Blue Gem), Autotronic, Slaughter, Black Laminate, Tiger Tooth, Boreal Forest, Scorched, Blue Steel, Vanilla, Damascus Steel, Forest DDPAT, Urban Masked, Freehand, Stained, Bright Water, Safari Mesh, Rust Coat, Gloves - Bloodhound Gloves (Charred, Snakebite, Guerrilla, Bronzed), Driver Gloves (Snow Leopard, King Snake, Crimson Weave, Imperial Plaid, Black Tie, Lunar Weave, Diamondback, Rezan the Red, Overtake, Queen Jaguar, Convoy, Racing Green), Hand Wraps (Cobalt Skulls, CAUTION!, Overprint, Slaughter, Leather, Giraffe, Badlands, Spruce DDPAT, Arboreal, Constrictor, Desert Shamagh, Duct Tape), Moto Gloves (Spearmint, POW!, Cool Mint, Smoke Out, Finish Line, Polygon, Blood Pressure, Turtle, Boom!, Eclipse, 3rd Commando Company, Transport), Specialist Gloves (Crimson Kimono, Tiger Strike, Emerald Web, Field Agent, Marble Fade, Fade, Foundation, Lt. Commander, Crimson Web, Mogul, Forest DDPAT, Buckshot), Sport Gloves (Pandora's Box, Superconductor, Hedge Maze, Vice, Amphibious, Slingshot, Omega, Arid, Big Game, Nocts, Scarlet Shamagh, Bronze Morph), Hydra Gloves (Case Hardened, Emerald, Rattler, Mangrove), Broken Fang Gloves (Jade, Yellow-banded, Unhinged, Needle Point), Pistols - P2000 (Wicked Sick, Ocean Foam, Fire Element, Amber Fade, Corticera, Chainmail, Imperial Dragon, Obsidian, Scorpion, Handgun, Acid Etched), USP-S (Printstream, Kill Confirmed, Whiteout, Road Rash, Owergrowth, The Traitor, Neo-Noir, Dark Water, Orion, Blueprint, Stainless, Caiman, Serum, Monster Mashup, Royal Blue, Ancient Visions, Cortex, Orange Anolis, Ticket To Hell, Black Lotus, Cyrex, Check Engine, Guardian, Purple DDPAT, Torque, Blood Tiger, Flashback, Business Class, Pathfinder, Para Green), Lead Conduit, Glock-18 (Umbral Rabbit, Fade, Candy Apple, Bullet Queen, Synth Leaf, Neo-Noir, Nuclear Garden, Dragon Tatto, Reactor, Pink DDPAT, Twilight Galaxy, Sand Dune, Groundwater, Blue Fissure, Snack Attack, Water Elemental, Brass, Wasteland Rebel, Vogue, Franklin, Royal Legion, Gamma Doppler, Weasel, Steel Disruption, Ironwork, Grinder, High Beam, Moonrise, Oxide Blaze, Bunsen Burner, Clear Polymer, Bunsen Burner, Night), P250 (Re.built, Nuclear Threat, Modern Hunter, Splash, Whiteout, Vino Primo, Mehndi, Asiimov, Visions, Undertow, Cartel, See Ya Later, Gunsmoke, Splash, Digital Architect, Muertos, Red Rock, Bengal Tiger, Crimson Kimono, Wingshot, Metallic DDPAT, Hive, Dark Filigree, Mint Kimono), Five-Seven (Neon Kimono, Berries And Cherries, Fall Hazard, Crimson Blossom, Hyper Beast, Nitro, Fairy Tale, Case Hardened, Copper Galaxy, Angry Mob, Monkey Business, Fowl Play, Anodized Gunmetal, Hot Shot, Retrobution, Boost Protocol), CZ75-Auto (Chalice, Crimson Web, Emerald Quartz, The Fuschia is Now, Nitro, Xiangliu, Yellow Jacket, Victoria, Poison Dart, Syndicate, Eco, Hexane, Pole, Tigris), Tec-9 (Rebel, Terrace, Nuclear Threat, Hades, Rust Leaf, Decimator, Blast From, Orange Murano, Toxic, Fuel Injector, Remote Control, Bamboo Forest, Isaac, Avalanche, Brother, Re-Entry, Blue Titanium, Bamboozle), R8 Revolver (Banana Cannon, Fade, Blaze, Crimson Web, Liama Cannon, Crazy 8, Reboot, Canal Spray, Night, Amber Fade), Desert Eagle (Blaze, Hand Cannon, Fennec Fox, Sunset Storm, Emerald Jörmungandr, Pilot, Hypnotic, Golden Koi, Printstream, Cobalt Disruption, Code Red, Ocean Drive, Midnight Storm, Kumicho Dragon, Crimson Web, Heirloom, Night Heist, Mecha Industries, Night, Conspiracy, Trigger Discipline, Naga, Directive, Light Rail), Dual Berettas (Flora Carnivora, Duelist, Cobra Strike, Black Limba, Emerald, Hemoglobin, Twin Turbo, Marina, Melondrama, Pyre, Retribution, Briar, Dezastre, Royal Consorts, Urban Shock, Dualing Dragons, Panther, Balance), Rifles - Galil (Aqua Terrace, Winter Forest, Chatterbox, Sugar Rush, Pheonix Blacklight, CAUTION!, Orange DDPAT, Cerberus, Dusk Ruins, Eco, Chromatic Aberration, Stone Cold, Tuxedo, Sandstorm, Shattered, Urban Rubble, Rocket Pop, Kami, Crimson Tsunami, Connexion), SCAR-20 (Fragments, Brass, Cyrex, Palm, Splash Jam, Cardiac, Emerald, Crimson Web, Magna Carta, Stone Mosaico, Bloodsport, Enforcer), AWP (Duality, Gungnir, Dragon Lore, Prince, Medusa, Desert Hydra, Fade, Lightning Strike, Oni Taiji, Silk Tiger, Graphite, Chromatic Aberration, Asiimov, Snake Camo, Boom, Containment Breach, Wildfire, Redline, Electric Hive, Hyper Beast, Neo-Noir, Man-o'-war, Pink DDPAT, Corticera, Sun in Leo, Elite Build, Fever Dream, Atheris, Mortis, PAW, Exoskeleton, Worm God, POP AWP, Phobos, Acheron, Pit Viper, Capillary, Safari Mesh), AK-47 (Head Shot, Wild Lotus, Gold Arabesque, X-Ray, Fire Serpent, Hydroponic, Panthera Onca, Case Hardened, Vulcan, Jet Set, Fuel Injector, Bloodsport, Nightwish, First Class, Neon Rider, Asiimov, Red Laminate, Aquamarine Revenge, The Empress, Wasteland Rebel, Jaguar, Black Laminate, Leet Museo, Neon Revolution, Redline, Frontside Misty, Predator, Legion of Anubis, Point Disarray, Orbit Mk01, Blue Laminate, Green Laminate, Emerald Pinstripe, Cartel, Phantom Disruptor, Jungle Spray, Safety Net, Rat Rod, Baroque Purple, Slate, Elite Build, Uncharted, Safari Mesh), FAMAS (Sundown, Prime Conspiracy, Afterimage, Commemoration, Dark Water, Spitfire, Pulse, Eye of Athena, Meltdown, Rapid Eye Move, Roll Cage, Styx, Mecha Industrie, Djinn, ZX Spectron, Valence, Neural Net, Night Borre, Hexne), M4A4 (Temukau, Howl, Poseidon, Asiimov, Daybreak, Hellfire, Zirka, Red DDPAT, Radiation Hazard, Modern Hunter, The Emperor, The Coalition, Bullet Rain, Cyber Security, X-Ray, Dark Blossom, Buzz Kill, In Living Color, Neo-Noir, Desolate Space, 龍王 (Dragon King), Royal Paladin, The Battlestar, Global Offensive, Tooth Fairy, Desert-Strike, Griffin, Evil Daimyo, Spider Lily, Converter), M4A1-S (Emphorosaur-S, Welcome to the Jungle, Imminent Danger, Knight, Hot Rod, Icarus Fell, Blue Phosphor, Printstream, Master Piece, Dark Water, Golden Coil, Bright Water, Player Two, Atomic Alloy, Guardian, Chantico's Fire, Hyper Beast, Mecha Industries, Cyrex, Control Panel, Moss Quartz, Nightmare, Decimator, Leaded Glass, Basilisk, Blood Tiger, Briefing, Night Terror, Nitro, VariCamo, Flashback), SG 553 (Cyberforce, Hazard Pay, Bulldozer, Integrale, Dragon Tech, Ultraviolet, Colony IV, Hypnotic, Cyrex, Candy Apple, Barricade, Pulse), SSG 08 (Death Strike, Sea Calico, Blood in the Water, Orange Filigree, Dragonfire, Big Iron, Bloodshot, Detour, Turbo Peek, Red Stone), AUG (Akihabara Accept, Flame Jörmungandr, Hot Rod, Midnight Lily, Sand Storm, Carved Jade, Wings, Anodized Navy, Death by Puppy, Torque, Bengal Tiger, Chameleon, Fleet Flock, Random Access, Momentum, Syd Mead, Stymphalian, Arctic Wolf, Aristocrat, Navy Murano), G3SG1 (Chronos, Violet Murano, Flux, Demeter, Orange Kimono, The Executioner, Green Apple, Arctic Polar Camo, Contractor), SMGs - P90 (Neoqueen, Astral Jörmungandr, Run and Hide, Emerald Dragon, Cold Blooded, Death by Kitty, Baroque Red, Vent Rush, Blind Spot, Asiimov, Trigon, Sunset Lily, Death Grip, Leather, Nostalgia, Fallout Warning, Tiger Pit, Schermatic, Virus, Shapewood, Glacier Mesh, Shallow Grave, Chopper, Desert Warfare), MAC-10 (Sakkaku, Hot Snakes, Copper Borre, Red Filigree, Gold Brick, Graven, Case Hardened, Stalker, Amber Fade, Neon Rider, Tatter, Curse, Propaganda, Nuclear Garden, Disco Tech, Toybox, Heat, Indigo), UMP-45 (Wild Child, Fade, Blaze, Day Lily, Minotaur's Labyrinth, Crime Scene, Caramel, Bone Pile, Momentum, Primal Saber), MP7 (Teal Blossom, Fade, Nemesis, Whiteout, Asterion, Bloosport, Abyssal Apparition, Full Stop, Special Delivery, Neon Ply, Asterion, Ocean Foam, Powercore, Scorched, Impire), PP-Bizon (Modern Hunter, Rust Coat, Forest Leaves, Antique, High Roller, Blue Streak, Seabird, Judgement of Anubis, Bamboo Print, Embargo, Chemical Green, Coblat Halftone, Fuel Rod, Photic Zone, Irradiated Alert, Carbon Fiber), MP9 (Featherweight, Wild Lily, Pandora's Box, Stained Glass, Bulldozer, Dark Age, Hot Rod, Hypnotic, Hydra, Rose Iron, Music Box, Setting Sun, Food Chain, Airlock, Mount Fuji, Starlight Protector, Ruby Poison Dart, Deadly Poison), MP5-SD (Liquidation, Oxide Oasis, Phosphor, Nitro, Agent, Autumn Twilly), Shotguns, Machineguns - Sawed-Off (Kiss♥Love, First Class, Orange DDPAT, Rust Coat, The Kraken, Devourer, Mosaico, Wasteland Princess, Bamboo Shadow, Copper, Serenity, Limelight, Apocalypto), XM1014 (Frost Borre, Ancient Lore, Red Leather, Elegant Vines, Banana Leaf, Jungle, Urban Perforated, Grassland, Blaze Orange, Heaven Guard, VariCamo Blue, Entombed, XOXO, Seasons, Tranquility, Bone Machine, Incinegator, Teclu Burner, Black Tie, Zombie Offensive, Watchdog), Nova (Baroque Orange, Hyper Beast, Green Apple, Antique, Modern Hunter, Walnut, Forest Leaves, Graphite, Blaze Orange, Rising Skull, Tempest, Bloomstick, Interlock, Quick Sand, Moon in Libra, Clean Polymer, Red Quartz, Toy Soldier), MAG-7 (Insomnia, Cinqueda, Counter Terrace, Prism Terrace, Memento, Chainmail, Hazard, Justice, Bulldozer, Silver, Core Breach, Firestarter, Praetorian, Heat, Hard Water, Monster Call, BI83 Spectrum, SWAG-7), M249 (Humidor, Shipping Forecast, Blizzard Marbleized, Downtown, Jungle DDPAT, Nebula Crusader, Impact Drill, Emerald Poison Dart), Negev (Mjölnir, Anodized Navy, Palm, Power Loader, Bratatat, CaliCamo, Phoenix Stencil, Infrastructure, Boroque Sand), Wear - Factory New (FN), Minimal Wear (MW), Field-Tested (FT), Well-Worn (WW), Battle-Scarred (BS), Stickers Holo/Foil/Gold - Katowice 2014, Krakow 2017, Howling Dawn, Katowice 2015, Crown, London 2018, Cologne 2014, Boston 2018, Atlanta 2017, Cluj-Napoca 2015, DreamHack 2014, King on the Field, Harp of War, Winged Difuser, Cologne 2016, Cologne 2015, MLG Columbus 2016, Katowice 2019, Berlin 2019, RMR 2020, Stockholm 2021, Antwerp 2022, Swag Foil, Flammable foil, Others - Souvenirs, Agents, Pins, Passes, Gifts, Music Kits, Cases, Keys, Capsules, Packages, Patches

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So I (23F) met this guy (23M) when he became my manager at work after I had been there for a few months. I immediately thought he was cute but didn’t say anything bc he was at the time my boss and I didn’t want to mess up my chance at a promotion I was up for at the time. Him and I became pretty close during his first month bc I was the only other person close to manager in terms of roles for a while. During our few shifts together it felt like he was flirting with me but I could never tell if he was actually flirting or if “that’s just how he was” this included things like: - I confessed that the smell of Marlboro cigarettes were a comfort smell for me, as that’s what my dad smoked growing up and him and I are very close. This guy smoked the same ones. He said in response, “Then you should spend all your time with me, I’ll be your favorite person.” - Whenever we made eye contact across the store, he would smile wide and make a big gesture of waving at me - asked me if i thought his mustache was handsome - Him and another coworker were talking about the brand supreme, and he looked at me and said “I only like supreme when (my name) wears it.” (I have one hoodie and wore it to work sometimes). - Told him about how I was a simp for my last partner, and he said “the only man you should ever simp for his me” this felt obvious but then he started joking about how he wishes everybody would simp for him like a cult leader, so idk what to even do with that. - I was also always the first person he called or texted about anything work related even when there was another manager higher up than me, that he worked with more.
On the other hand of things he told me things that would consider the opposite of flirting like: - told me he was sleeping with 40 yo. woman bc it was “convenient” - told me that he was “talking” to a girl who was a licensed massage therapist and was “learning” from her - hardly ever texted me first
We’ve had a few interactions since we both left the store which have included: - me sending a picture of myself wearing a shirt from the tattoo shop he works at and him replying “looks so fresh, miss you :,(“ - telling him I was coming to his tattoo shop for a service and him replying “f*ck yeah excited to see ya 😋😋😋” and “I miss you 🥲😓🥺😥” - after seeing him at the tattoo shop I said I should come down to the area more often (my attempt at flirting) and him just saying “i’m down to hang whenever”
I guess I am just confused as to where I land with this guy, I really like him but cannot tell what he thinks of me and the signals are really throwing me off. I’ve also never been the type to make the first move, and am debating just telling him I think he’s really cute but idk I don’t want to embarrass myself. Any advice would be appreciated :)

Today I beated the Gloom Hands and an entity called "Ganon's Ghost" (could be different in English. I play in French) appeared. He didn't move much but teleported, used a bow and a sword and had a weird and intense gloom attack that covered everything around me in gloom. I had to rush in the gloom to attack him before I was consumed (I was in the Hebra labyrinth so a closed space).
Overall he really wasn't difficult to beat. I'm just confused as to why he appeared out of nowhere. I also didn't beat Ganon at the castle so I have no clue if it's linked to the boss fight. I was just confused and creeped out.
But at least I've got a pretty cool sword now.

Let me be the first to welcome you to the MotheOffspring, Nurturing/Support, Teaching/Education Resource Network, or? M.O.N.S.T.E.R. Nursery. My name is Sassy, short for Sasquatch. Yes, THAT sasquatch. Are there other kinds?! I'm a HCC (Healthcare Cryptid) here at the nursery. I also teach humans the survival basics of coming across a baby monster in the woods.
Anyhoo, you're probably wondering why Sasquatch are utilized as Labor and Delivery nurses. It's simple, really. We're natural born mothers. You see, we just love babies! We always have! All of that nonsense about whooping, tree knocking and vocalizations that we do in the woods when you guys are camping? Don't get scared! That's just us shouting out to our boys letting them know we have humans in the woods! Humans could possibly have a BABY with them. Now, I don't like to judge based on looks, but those bald human babies are so ugly? They're cute! Poor little things look like they have mange, though. Who would think a bald puppy is cute? Ew.
I digress. So, when it came to the M.O.N.S.T.E.R. Nursery? We were the natural choice. Even though I happen to be female? History tells us that male nursery nurses happen to have the best bonding with our little devils. Well, little devils and whoever else was born that day. Just look at Chewy over there bonding with that litter of werewolf pups born on the last full moon. He's so maternal? He's practically a breast.
Now, all babies are not created equal. Have you ever wondered which monster's baby is the loudest? I can promise you that you'd rather listen to that werewolf pup litter any day over being 5 minutes late with Baby Siren Head's bottle. I had a headache for a week. When Vlad and Countess Bathory had their little undead bundle of joy last month? You'd be surprised how quick a Bigfoot can prick and milk their finger to get a fresh bottle of nutritious blood for that adorable, pale little parasite. He definitely had a healthy appetite, especially if you were B positive. Vlad and Countess Bathory couldn't have been happier. Patient satisfaction has always been a priority for HCCs (Healthcare Cryptid) since day one! We've never gotten below a 5 on the Jack Link's scale of 0 - 5 jerkies. We are collectively very proud of this fact! It's such an accomplishment for Bigfoot and all of Sasquatch kind.
Okay, I could understand why you think we're a little full of ourselves. I, mean, when Sasquatch are the chosen ones to be the top requested HCC? It's a far fall to the 2nd position. Look, we can't all be God's Chosen Ones. Yes, he exists. Yes, he created us. You're getting distracted, again. We aren't all going to argue semantics on what is Creationism and what is Darwinism and all of that. I'm too busy trying to teach incompetent, um cough cough, INTERESTED humans how to provide the most basic care for any creature's neonates (medical term for newborn) that they might stumble across while enjoying hiking, camping, fishing, etc. The priority? The newborn. Additional concerns?
1) MotheFather finding humans around newborn and attacking them.
2) Humans treating the scenario like an episode of "Jack Ass" and thinking it's a good idea to "mess with" the newborn and? Again? Mom/Dad attacks them.
3) Basically? A human breathing will set Mom/Dad off. Most creatures just don't want humans around. They can't be trusted. Sorry, Guys. It's been that way every since you refused to credit Chewy in the '67 Patterson–Gimlin film.
So? Your first reaction, if you see a baby creature? Look for it's parents. If you see them? Run. Run fast. Like, put Forrest Gump to shame kinda runnin'. Those parents don't want you there for any reason at all. Pick 'em up and put 'em down the whole way back down the trail.
If you don't see the parents? Proceed slowly and with caution. Now, don't let everything I've said scare you into not helping a baby monster. They're babies, after all. Please, check on them. Just be aware of your surroundings so as not to frighten the wood creatures which will, in turn, attack you. Then? It's just a bad day for everyone involved.
So? Depending on the woodland creature? You'll want to know what action you need to take to help the baby and? Hopefully? Survive assisting. The first thing you'll want to do is call out/whistle, whatever you have to do to try to get someone's attention. Look around and listen. What do you see and hear? If it's nothing? Again, proceed with caution. If you hear howling, growling, tree knocking, whooping, any of these things? Leave, either their parents are still around or we're there and will then takeover. I know. It's confusing to try to tell when we're tree knocking hoping you have a baby with you or if we know there's a baby around and we don't want you around the baby. Really, if at all possible, just don't mess with the babies if you don't have to. With that having been said? Let's proceed!
As you cautiously approach? Keep making noise letting everyone know you're there. We don't want to scare the life, or afterlife, out of these little ones. They're at their most vulnerable right now. Let's use Chewy's patients today as an example. You traipse along and stumble over a werewolf den. Well, that's not something you see every day. You hear soft whimpering. About 4 or 5 little werewolf pup heads pop up out of the den. How's everyone looking? Is anyone hurt? No? Then check your supplies. It just so happens you were successful fishing earlier. Werewolf pups love fish almost as much as moonbathing and cutting their baby teeth on a human femur. They'll be thankful, the Alpha male and female will be thankful and you'll really be thankful. You get to walk away, karma and limbs intact.
Next? It would be highly likely that you'd come across a wendigo, skinwalker, rake slenderman, etc. besides just a litter of werewolf pups. Try to prepare yourself as much as possible for these encounters. The better prepared? The better off everyone will be. The best part? These creatures won't want your everlasting soul in infancy. Those challenges don't present until adolescence. So? Enjoy the respite for the moment. Now? No matter what the situation? You'll always want to approach with caution and announce your arrival. It's saved not only many a human? It's saved a lot of cryptids as well. Try to have some sort of food item on you that's rather filling. You'd prefer that over them making YOU the food item.
So, as we proceed down the trail, there's a cabin to the left and it's the last house but do not enter, please. The last good hearted Samaritan did and, well, let's just say he had a run in with a girl locked in the cellar who wasn't quite herself. That's probably about the most PC way of explaining demonic possession. Anyhoo, there was bad press for a year and visitors to the park fell off, it just was a big mess. They ended up doing some kind of cybernetic enhancement and now the good Samaritan has a chainsaw for an arm. He's done a great job keeping them all in line. Overall? That was one we got right.
Since I brought up Vlad and the Countess Bathory's bouncing little bundle of bloodsucker? It's important to know that if you are in your domicile, and R.V.'s count, vampires cannot enter without an invitation from you. So, if you are camping in your R.V. and someone comes knocking late at night? Don't answer. If they aren't a vampire? They can come back the next day. If they don't come back? You definitely made the right decision. Now, the problem is? If you encounter a vampire in the wild. Hopefully? They've already set their sights on whoever they picked that night to be their victim. If not? A dropper of Holy Water as perfume on either side of your neck is a nice deterrent. Again, if the little count is there by himself? He's clearly gotten away from the castle. He needs returned immediately. Go to the nearest tree that displays a "break in case of emergency" box. Break the glass, take the bag of beef jerky out, shake it. Every Sasquatch in a 5 mile radius will come running to you. Point the baby vampire out and we'll be glad to take it from there.
Something I should bring up to our do-gooders ready to risk it all: if you can't swim? Don't try to help aquatic creatures. It won't end well. It never does. Little fry just aren't acclimated to landlubbers. Merpups are tough for even us to handle. They get scared, you can't swim, bad things happen. So? If you're determined to help any baby monster no matter where they reside? Take swimming lessons. You'll thank me. Trust me on this.
Don't let the fae trip you up, either. They're mischievous. They'll also try to sneak a changeling in on you if you do bring your human babies to the forest. If you respect walking around fairy rings and respect mother nature? The fae shouldn't be an issue. If you don't? Well, you were warned.
So, what have we not covered? Flying creatures. Yes, they present a challenge even we Sasquatch find difficult. It's hard to assess the needs of a baby that's wrapped in the arms of a mother flying 75 feet above your head. Even though the task is daunting? It's a challenge we'll definitely take on. We just watch and wait for Mom to go on the hunt and we take a peak at that tiny little velociraptor in that nest, with it's mouth hanging wide open, just awaiting a morsel. Now, the Mothman's baby was an experience. Cocoons are just something you have to see for yourself, especially when they're 6 feet tall. It's truly fascinating!
I think that covers everything for today's lesson. Bear in mind, we're beginning the summer season here in the U.S. Encounters are going to increase between cryptids and humans so be aware and care when it comes to our babies. We're aware and care when it comes to yours. Stay safe and Sasquatch on!

Bit nervous on what to expect but I got my test booked and coming up in a few months. Any advice or information on the route. I know the location of the centre has moved a couple times and I am not sure if it will move again as it is currently at Norbreck Castle.
Also some general advice for me for my driving test, doesn't have to be related to the location just some general advice from anyone. Thanks!