DC Next Proudly Presents:
TOTALLY NOT DOOM PATROL
In: Tales from the (Totally Not) Doom Patrol
Issue Four: Tense Toiling Tale
Written by u/Geography3
Edited by u/AdamantAce
Previous Issue > Terrifically Tasty Tales
Next Issue > Coming Next Month
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Arani Desai was wracked. By pain, emotional turmoil, and agitation. She sat in a rickety chair that creaked with each rocking motion of her shaking body. She looked at the floor with the tense brow of someone on the verge of throwing up, although she couldn’t even tell if nausea was one of her current sensations. A cool breeze drifted in from the vents that did little to soothe her. It was the only comfort afforded to her, as the large glass panels making up one wall of the room didn’t allow for much natural temperature control. On the other side of the room, a locked door faced her. It only ever opened to invite her tormentors in.
Arani thumbed a scar left on her leg from a recent encounter. It was small, but scars like that trapped Arani not just in the house, but within her own body. They made her feel small, and she loathed the powerlessness. She stared at her hands. If she figured out the searing power within her, she could destroy everyone around her and never have to live this life again. The thought process was simple. She couldn’t take it anymore. She ran.
Sound grew harsh, then warbled as she jumped through the glass window and into the pool below. She had hit the window full force but miraculously only had minor cuts, the flimsy glass stinging her skin as it was exposed to chlorine. She was wearing light clothing, but she still felt weighted. She surfaced above water, and turned to see the blurred image of a guard jumping in the pool after her, like a brown smear on a canvas.
Arani propelled herself through her amateur swimming skills, trying to cross to the shallow end of the large pool. As the guard closed the distance, Arani slapped her hands towards him, splashing up water that froze into sharp ice. His face was hit by a wave that crashed into ice just before it reached him, disorienting him. Soon the ice began to spread, surrounding the man and encasing him in a shell of cold.
Arani scrambled to the top of the rapidly forming layer of ice that was replacing the pool. Only the guard’s head was exposed, the rest trapped in glacial agony. Seizing the opportunity, she kicked the man’s head repeatedly. Rage had overtaken her, and all she wanted was to burn it out of her. She was brought back to the real world by her senses, which told her that others were coming. She looked around and realized that the luxurious backyard space was still an extension of her cell. She needed to get off of her father’s land.
She climbed over the railing on the edge of the property, hoping to shimmy down one of the support beams that held the complex aloft over the forest floor. In her haste she made a misstep and clumsily fell, grasping out for branches that only whacked at her on her way down. She landed gracefully in a pile of leaves, now on the ground of the jungle. After a moment to regain her bearings, she was spurred onward by the sounds of armed men swarming above her. People were yelling and moving, their intentions to follow her clear. She stole into the jungle, running as fast as she could.
After some good distance was put between her and her pursuers, she came across a creek, an open wound in the earth. She slowed her pace to descend the minor slope into the creek, but it wasn’t slow enough as she walked straight into a trap. One fateful footfall triggered a large net to snatch her into a tree, sending her hanging like a loose tooth.
As she pressed against the coarse rope of the net, a familiar boil returned to her hands. Her touches fried the cables to a crisp, allowing her to begin to free herself from the impromptu prison. It probably wasn’t set up to catch her; more likely, she had entered a poacher’s range. Still, it was an obstacle, and she was almost clawing at the netting to escape it.
She was helped by gunfire that pierced certain weak spots, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her salvation quickly turned to doom, as five guards from her father’s estate surrounded her, guns smoking. Arani stood up and looked around, their faces familiar. One of them was an old good friend of hers from childhood, who grew up to perpetuate her father’s regime. He came up to her, his gun slung over his cocky chest.
“Easy, Arani. No one here wants to hurt you. We’re required to bring you back unharmed, so why don’t you just come peacefully, okay?” He approached her slowly.
Her response was spitting in his face. Enraged, he grabbed onto one of her wrists, slapping her across the face. After a moment, a devilish look crossed his face. “If you’re going to make this difficult, I deserve some compensation. Maybe we can have some fun before your dad locks you away forever…”
“Never,” Arani grunted as she swiftly grabbed the weapon hanging on his chest. She broke his grasp and switched their positioning, pointing the gun at his head. She faced the rest of the men with raised rifles, eyeing her hostage.
“Get lost, or I kill him,” Arani stated, adding after a few seconds of inaction, “Put your guns down!”
When the guards weren’t complying quick enough for her liking, Arani marched over to the creek, kicking her old friend to his knees. His protests were muffled as Arani dunked his head into the water, holding it there. “Lay down your weapons, now!”
The men slowly put down their weapons, Arani’s eyes flickering rapidly between them to make sure they wouldn’t make any sudden moves. By the time the last man had disarmed himself, Arani felt a disturbing lack of movement coming from her palm. She looked down, at the man face-down in the water, not moving. As the men took stock of what happened as well, their looks became furious. Not knowing what to do, Arani made a break for it, using a fallen tree to quickly traverse the creek.
Gunfire followed a few seconds after, forcing Arani to duck and weave. The heat of the jungle and the buzz of insects around her faded into white noise. She only heard her thudding heart, quick breaths, and feet falling beneath her. Bullets whizzed around her haphazardly, until one struck her in the leg. She tumbled down a small incline she was cresting, her only instincts to cover her head. At the bottom of the hill she became face to face with a large hollow tree laid across the ground. She scurried into the husk for shelter, hoping for refuge from her pursuers.
She sloughed her cloth jacket off. She took a look at her leg, a hole in the back leaking blood. With an amateur knowledge of survival medicine, she wrapped her jacket around her leg tight, trying to contain the bleeding somehow. It was uncomfortable, but the more pressing matter came as she heard the men shouting and surrounding the tree. Arani kept as still as possible, but through a hole in the top of the log she made eye contact. She was spotted.
She heard the men hypothesizing on where in the downed log she was as she scurried around, trying to arouse visual and sonic confusion. After a few moments of silence, she popped through a hole in the top. With the gun she had taken, she shot at random and then ducked back under the moss to avoid the returning counter fire, like a sick game of whack-a-mole. Through the opening she had crawled in she shot at one guard’s feet, landing a hit and sending him falling backwards.
The vessel then shook from the opposite direction, as Arani rolled around to see one crazed guard crawling inside the tight space to try and grab her. Swatting his hands away, Arani’s skin flooded with heat. A torrent of flame flew from her hands, scorching the man as the air filled with the stench of frying flesh. However, this action also compromised her haven, making it burn bright quickly. She burst through the fragile hollow, displacing a man who had stood on top of the log for a better vantage point. Flames quickly spread and she ran through them, using the smoke as cover from gunfire.
The terrain sloped back upwards, Arani having reached the other side of the squished valley. As she struggled up the hill, Arani found herself next to a large tree whose branches reached out to her. She hoisted herself into the tree’s arms, climbing upwards to hopefully avoid the men. She hopped from branch to branch, swinging around the tops of the heavily forested area. She watched as the three remaining armsmen gathered below her. They shouted insults at each other as they disagreed over where she could be.
As Arani leaned back against a tree trunk to hide, a flimsy branch she was resting her arm on snapped and clattered to the ground. Her position was compromised. The men shot into the trees, and Arani got the sense that they no longer cared about her making it back alive. Luckily they had a poor idea of where she was, and Arani narrowly avoided being hit as she jumped to another treetop.
Having found a new vantage point, she had a good look at those below. She breathed into her hands, cupping a chill gasp. The frost coalesced into three daggers of ice, stinging her hands. Hurriedly she threw the daggers downwards, hoping to hit each of the men. Her aim was off, and they all plunked into one man. One in his shoulder, one slicing past his neck, one splitting his eye socket open. Seeing his comrade’s body fall, another guard began to climb upwards to get to Arani directly.
Amidst the desperate rustling and dizzying height, Arani lost track of the man. He got the jump on her, tackling her carelessly. They both careened towards the ground. Luckily for Arani, the man’s reckless comrade shot at the falling pair, hitting Arani’s attacker in the back. This allowed Arani to shift their positions so the man was below her, using his body to break her fall as they thudded to the ground. Arani shook to her feet. Her and the final man stared at each other in a silent standoff. The silence was pierced by the man receiving a phone call, giving Arani the distraction needed to run off. The man lightly jogged after her as he took the call, no doubt from her father.
As she ran on, Arani heard the sounds of civilization. Beeps, honks, whirring wheels. She found herself on the edge of the wilderness facing a busy road, a highway to the dockyards that might hold the key to freedom. There was a resting bike on the other side of the highway, one that Arani could hijack. As she strategized how to cross the roiling sea of vehicles, she saw the last guard approaching behind her. She ran.
Horns blared at her as she made her way perilously. The woman stopped and started, the cars stopped and started, the man stopped and started. All parties, willing and unwilling, engaged in a deadly dance. They played a dangerous game of chicken, where Arani would dash past a car just in time for it to block the man’s path. Arani’s foot caught a rock. She stumbled into the path of a truck. She flattened herself against the ground. She survived. She got up. Right into the grinning face of her tormentor. He grabbed her. But he wasn’t paying attention. A car slammed right into him, sending him flying across the asphalt.
Arani miraculously made it to the other side, ignoring the chaos behind her. Her mind blanked out as she rode towards the dockyard, a place she often went as a child. She was surprised how much she still remembered the route. Sweating and panting, she let her stolen vehicle clatter against the ground as she took sight of a boat, waiting and ready to take her to freedom. She could sneak aboard with the cargo without notice, she was sure of it. There was a loading bridge set up, and no one was around. She ran.
But then she heard vehicles pull up behind her, and the slam of closing doors. And she heard her father’s deep, commanding voice, ordering her to “Stop!” She complied, stopping dead in her tracks. Arani turned around, seeing her father flanked by two men in suits holding pistols. Her father wore a business casual outfit as if he had just stepped off of a yacht. A scarf wrapped around his neck, and Arani wished she could run up and tighten it.
Instead, she blasted ice at the two men’s hands, but in her panic it only manifested as misty snow. Arani ran and hid among the various elements of the dockyard, weaving around crates. She raced towards the bridge that would help her further hide among the cargo. As she stepped onto the bridge, she felt strong hands grab her by the ponytail, yanking her back.
“Little girl,” Ashok Desai glared at his daughter, forcing her to look at him. “You have caused me much trouble.”
Arani was too tired for any clever response. She looked back at him. An exhausted but still defiant look was in her eyes. Her expression communicated, ‘Yeah, and…?’
Ashok sighed deeply. “For years I tolerate your evil, and then I have to grapple with your demonic powers that back up your evil. And this is the thanks I get? You should be glad I didn’t bash your head in with a rock as an infant. Why I don’t do that now, gods know…”
“You’ve made enough of a public mess. It’s time to come home. You have to face the consequences of your actions, little girl,” Ashok tried to pull Arani, but she stood firm.
It was time to burn the bridge - literally. She tensed for a moment as pain rocked through her body. All the uses of her powers that day made her feel like a tingling husk, and this was the most taxing yet. She cried out in pain and rage as a wave of fire erupted from within her. Its force set her father ablaze, his screams filling the air as he grabbed at his already scarring face. He toppled into the water, steam rising as he plunged under.
Arani climbed aboard, watching as the two goons scrambled to help their suffering leader. They now had more pressing matters than stopping her. She hid among some of the crates, finding a nook that kept her hidden and allowed her to rest her head for a moment. Sleep didn’t come easy despite her exhaustion. Hours later when she felt and heard the ship moving around her, the soft rocking of the ocean lulled her to sleep. It had been bloody, but she had fought for her independence and made it out to the other side. She would see another day - and perhaps even become alive within it.
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What Arani really shared with the others was, “Actually. I grew up in India. My dad is evil. That’s all you really need to know.”
NEXT: What The Hole?!

[The Dragonpit](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fgameofthrones.fandom.com%2Fwiki%2FDragonpit&psig=AOvVaw1XVCZ1UCiXpGNb3uGmfDPE&ust=1685629234742000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CBAQjRxqFwoTCPigkfjgn_8CFQAAAAAdAAAAABAE), Kings Landing

Kings Landing has never been described as a beautiful city, even at its best, and this certainly was its best. Targaryen banners hung from the streets, and bread and flowers had been doled out to the populace of the city. Partially to celebrate the ascension of Aegon to Prince of Dragonstone, partially to combat the stench and restlessness of Kings Landing. A team of street cleaners had been instituted as well, scrubbing Flea Bottom of the shit it was known to hold, and spreading throughout the city, a perhaps futile effort to make the place look presentable.
Nobles from across the realm had come and gathered in the dragon pit ushered in by Septons and watched by guards swathed in black and red. They were herded into a partially repaired dragonpit, the rubble and debris having long since been cleared away, and the great bronze dome abandoned in place for an open glass skylight that let the sun bear down on those in attendance.
The royal family and the hand stood on a raised stone platform, high above the realm with Aegon standing in the middle of them all. Looking over the crowd Maelor couldn’t help but admit his own surprise at how many had turned up for the ceremony. Black and Green alike were in attendance, and even the Dragonpit looked fit to burst due to how many had attended.
As the ceremony began the Septon gave a long winded speech, during which Maelor was barely able to keep still as the man waxed poetic about the virtue of kings, and mourned the loss of Prince Daeron and Queen Bethany. Maelor had to bite his tongue during that bit, he’d preferred to leave his kin out of tonight’s festivities, tonight of all nights he’d hoped to not think about Bethany, about his lost love and fallen son, both taken well before their time.
The King's eyes rested on Aegon, the boy he’d raised, the son he’d grown to be from the boy he’d taken from the sands of Dorne. There was love for him, in his heart, and oft times Maelor had wondered where he’d be if he’d ever heeded the advice of William Baratheon and thrown the boy into the Blackwater. Worse perhaps, a bitter man still searching for a way to douse his fury, a man who was looking at the end of his line, with few options to preserve it. He shook the thoughts out of his head, turning his attention back toward the ceremony.
After what felt like years the Septon turned around and produced a slender coronet: a simple band of red gold unadorned and unremarkable, but still a fine thing, fit for royalty. Maelor had designed it himself, thinking that Aegon would’ve preferred something more to his taste, not too audacious and better than the black iron coronet that Maelor himself had worn as Crown Prince. As the Septon finished his ramble, he gently placed the crown atop the Crown Prince's head, and Aegon rose as the herald proclaimed him.
“Aegon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne!” The herald's voice bounced off the walls of the ruined castle, and he was met with a thundering reply from those assembled.
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The Great Hall of the Red Keep

[Vibes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nERPIqWXTLM)
After the ceremony the nobility of Westeros filed into the great hall for the feast, with Maelor accompanied by his White Cloaks and the royal family, with the small council following closely behind. Seating for the feast was quicker than expected, and almost immediately drinks and food began flowing freely among the guests, though the air was heavy with the tension of a hundred different grudges left over from a twenty year old war.
The high table was sparse compared to earlier years, with Maelor in the middle, Aerea on his left and Daena next to her. On his right was William Baratheon, his strong right hand, seated between him and Aegon who sat on the end of the table. Maelor was dressed simply, in a black tunic and pants, swathed in a fine cape of crimson pinned by a dragon of red gold. The Crown of the Conqueror sat atop his head, fine rubies and valyrian steel heavier than he remembered; *Blackfyre* hung from his waist, its familiar weight a comfort to him.
Standing from his seat Maelor cleared his throat as the room quieted, and put on a small smile, looking over the crowd once before speaking.
“Thank you all for coming, truly, it has been so long since I’ve seen the Red Keep so lively, my own daughter can attest that she’s not seen me so rife with worry. Seven know finding enough food to feed you all was the hardest my hand had let me work in years.” Aegon took a breath and prepared for what he was to say next.
“I know many of you have your reservations about Rhaenyra’s descendants, the Black Line, the Tainted Line, unfit to rule a kitchen much less a kingdom. This will not stand. Prince Aegon will wed Aerea when she comes of age, and will sit the throne after me, this is what I have decreed, and this is how it shall be for now.” He could see the surprise on the faces of a few of those gathered and the anger at others.
“Failing that, should the worst happen, I’ve made another choice as to the future of the realm. You are all aware that my own wife was lost to sickness three years ago, I loved the Queen, and there shall never be another like her. But there shall be another Queen. I will take a new wife, a new queen that will bear my children, and stand by my side during the coming years.”
“I have made no choice, and not yet considered any candidates, I’d hoped to marry for love as I did once before instead of haggling like cheesemongers.” He smiled then, a small thing that he hoped would take the tension out of the room.
Whatever reaction was to be had would be silenced with a raised hand, and once again Maelor would look over the assembled crowd. “Now, enough of politics, enough of old grudges and hard words. There is a feast to be had, drinks to be downed, and plenty of food to be eaten.”
“Music!” The band began to play with a vigor, jumping into their craft with peerless skill. “Go now, tonight we drink, tomorrow the finest of the realm will joust and fight for the honor to name a Queen of Love and Beauty. Enjoy the night, and may it last long.” With that Maelor sat down, and took a cup in his hand while rubbing at his eyes.
“Seven fucking hells.”

When the old man got within range, John kicked at him with his good leg, but the old timer was quick, much quicker than he looked. He ducked to his right, side stepping John's lashing foot, then darted in and touched the tip of the prod to John's leg. Fire--that's what it felt like. White hot fire. A jolt went through John's body that made his eyeballs hurt. And just like that, the old man slipped in again and jabbed him in the stomach. Then, as John rolled onto his belly, the tip touched his back.
John curled into a ball and hugged his knees to his chest.
"Get through that door, boy," the old man said. "Move it, now!" Like herding an ornery animal.
And like an animal, John Burke responded, lifting himself onto all fours and crawling toward the exit. Halfway across the floor, the old man jammed the cattle prod against John's ass. He cried out and scampered through the door.
As soon they were out of the room, the old man clicked his cheek a couple of times like he was calling a dog. "Get on your feet, like a good boy." John struggled to his feet as the door closed behind him and the bolts slammed into place. He stood at one end of a narrow passage, dark, except for a single bulb hanging from the ceiling at the far end. Again, John felt the prod touch his back.
"Get!" the old man said.
John limped toward the light.
The passage emptied into a windowless room, low ceilinged and big. The old man forced him into a chute--a cattle chute. Horizontal steel poles on each side formed a walkway barely wide enough for a man's shoulders. The poles were stacked four high, the top pole about five feet off the ground. Every six or eight feet stood a vertical brace.
The old man closed and locked a sliding wooden door behind them, then bent and slipped between two of the horizontal poles. Outside the chute, he prodded John to keep him moving. As John walked toward the end, the old man thumped him two or three times with the prod but didn't shock him.
Suddenly, an overpowering stench hit John and his feet stopped moving. He looked to the right, toward the source of the smell, and saw a stainless steel table, on top of which lay a man's lifeless body. He was on his belly with his head turned and John could see the face of the man who'd been goaded out of the room just before him. The white-haired old lady stood beside the table gripping an electric carving knife in one latexed hand, while with her other gloved hand she pressed the man's leg firmly against the table. Bile gurgled up into John's throat as the old lady thumbed the switch on the carving knife and sliced a hunk of meat from the back of the dead man's thigh.
John spewed vomit and dropped to his knees. "Get up, boy," he heard from behind him as the prod juiced his lower back. John screamed in pain as he staggered to his feet. "Move it," the old man said. With legs like jelly, John stumbled forward.
The cut he'd worked into the leather belt was just to the right of the steel loop through which the handcuffs ran. Only an eighth of an inch of leather remained. Using his body, John shielded his hands from the old man's view while he tugged on the handcuffs and hobbled along.
The sides of the chute closed in on him as he reached the end. Near panic, John tried to turn around, but before he could the old man slid a gate closed behind him that penned him in.
Trapped.
From the corner of his eye, John watched the old man. Saw him step towards a workbench against the wall, fifteen feet away, and toss the cattle prod onto it. He pulled a ballpeen hammer down from a wall above the bench. It had a big stainless steel head with a foot long wooden handle. The old man turned and walked toward John with a casual, bored look on his face, just another day in the slaughterhouse.
Bent as far forward as he could, John thrust his hips back and jerked his cuffed hands forward, but the leather belt held. Behind him he heard the old man's shoes scrape the cement floor. Desperate, John twisted his hands to the right. The leather still held. Just an eighth of an inch between a chance for escape and a hammer to the back of the head.
A shoe scuff on the floor. Afraid to look, John stared at his hands. He groaned as he thrust his hips to the right and jerked his hands to the left. The leather tore and the belt pulled free from his waist.
"Where you think you're going?" the old man said.
John ducked and heard the top pole ring as the ballpeen hammer glanced off of it. With the belt still dangling from his handcuffs, John doubled over and stepped between the two middle poles on his left side. To his right the old man cursed him and swung the hammer between the bars. The hammer thumped into John's right hip but he didn't stop. Once through the bars he ran--hobbled on his painful ankle--toward the wall, trying to put as much distance between him and the old man as possible.
"Momma, momma, he got loose!"
"Catch him quick 'fore he gets away," the old lady screamed.
John Burke was lost. He didn't know where he was our how to get out. He turned, saw the old man race around the end of the chute, hammer cocked over his shoulder. John's back was to the wall. Wildly, he glanced around for something he could use. There was nothing.
To his left, twenty feet away was the corner of the room and a closed door.
The old man saw John looking. "You'll never get out." But he slowed down, approaching cautiously, angling toward the door to cut off John's only escape route.
The old man looked nervous about the door. John broke and ran. Waves of pain shot up his leg from his swollen ankle but he ignored it. The old man lunged toward the door to intercept. John tried to stop and start, throw a fake at the old man, but his ankle folded and he hit the floor.
The old man dropped to one knee beside him and raised the hammer over his head. "Got you!"
But as the killer blow came down, John shifted slightly to the side and the hammer struck the cement beside his head, sending tiny chips flying into his face. He lashed out with his good foot, missed the old man's head but caught him in the ribs. As the old man grunted and toppled over, John got to his feet and struggled to the door.
Locked.
John twisted the knob and screamed in rage. The old man stood up. Mounted on the wall next to the door was a gray metal circuit box, the handle protruding from its side angled up in the on position. An electrical shut off.
"Get him, poppy," the old woman screamed from the other side of the room. A nice old couple who called each other momma and poppy.
John grabbed the handle with both hands, shot a glance at the old man, saw him bearing down, and pulled.
Lights out. Total darkness.
Just in time John ducked. He heard the old man grunt as the hammer dug into the drywall. With his manacled hands, John shoved the old man, then ran along the wall to his left. Moving through the dark it felt like a mile. The old lady screamed.
Cuffed hands out in front with the torn leather belt dangling from them, John ran into the wall and turned right. He had no idea where to go or what to do. Just knew he had to put as much distance as he could between him and the old man. At the next corner he turned right again. Just up ahead he heard the old lady. "Poppy, I can't see."
He slowed down, tried to catch his breath. Then the lights came on. Poppy must have gotten to the switch. John found himself next to the stainless steel butchering table, and face-to-face with the old lady. With the power on, her electric carving knife started buzzing.
"I got him, poppy!" she said and chopped at him with the knife.
John jerked his head back as the humming blade passed less than an inch from his eyes.
"Momma!" the old man screamed.
John looked across the big room at the old man by the door. Hammer swinging from his hand, he started to run towards them but had to go around the cattle chute. The old lady again cut at John but this time he managed to catch her wrist in his hands. As he kicked her in the shin he heard one of his bare toes crack, but she loosened her grip on the knife and he was able to jerk it out of her hand.
The old man rounded the end of the chute and howled in rage as he saw them struggling. Momma clawed at John's eyes with both hands, but he managed to close them just as her nails raked his face. Carving knife in hand, he slashed at the old lady. The vibrating blade ripped into the side of her neck and cut across her throat. She gurgled up a foul smelling blast of air from her open trachea that made John gag. With her eyes wide open, the old lady looked stunned as her knees folded and she collapsed to the ground.
John Burke turned and the old man was right on top of him, screaming, swinging the hammer at his head. As John raised the carving knife, the hammer snapped the blade off and knocked it from his hand. The old man lunged closer, grabbed him by the throat with his left hand and raised the hammer again.
John threw an awkward jab with his shackled hands and hit the old man in the face with just enough force to stun him into losing his grip on John's neck. Then with a two-handed uppercut to the gut, this one with a little more behind it, he doubled the old man over, then ran for the door.
Standing in front of the door, he jerked down the power switch and again shrouded the room in darkness. He raised his good leg and kicked the wooden door as hard as he could. It gave just a little. Behind him he heard the old man crying, and something else--things being knocked over, things hitting the floor, the sounds of searching.
As John kicked again, his bad ankle screamed in pain, yet still the door held. He caught his breath, raised his good leg and managed one more kick. This time the knob splintered off and the door flew open. Stairs led up.
Behind him, a two-count metallic click echoed through the room. The unmistakable sound of a shell being chambered. A shotgun.
Fighting back the pain, John loped up the stairs as the shotgun blasted behind him. Upstairs he found himself in an empty kitchen. He moved down a short hallway that opened into a room he recognized, the den of the old lady's house. It was dark outside and only a few lights were on inside the house.
Footsteps on the cellar stairs.
Frantically, John looked around, seeing the big bay windows, but no door to the outside. He knocked the dead telephone to the ground, snatched up the end table, and heaved it through one of the windows.
Outside the air was warm and muggy, the ground soft like after a rain. Naked, except for the handcuffs and leather belt hanging from them, John staggered toward the woods just beyond the house. As he reached the first trees he heard another shotgun blast behind him, heard glass shatter, heard pellets tearing through the trees to his right.
Into the trees, getting some of them between him and the house in case the old man ripped off another shot.
"Murderer! I'll kill you," the old timer yelled through the trees. Almost funny, a minute ago the old man trying to bash his brains in with a hammer but still had the nerve to call him a murderer. Not to mention the sweet old lady carving a man like a Christmas turkey.
John turned forty-five degrees to the right. Choosing a zig-zag over a straight line. A minute later he heard another shot, then the pellets ripped into the branches off to his left. A frustration shot. The old man had guessed he'd turn but he'd guessed the wrong way.
He'd gotten out of shape. Just a few minutes into the woods he was puffing like a steam train, a stitch like a knife twisting into his side. John could feel his ankle starting to swell. Time for the zag so he turned left, crossed through what he guessed was fifty or sixty yards of woods, then suddenly burst into a clearing--the cemetery. The high three-quarter moon cast short, dark shadows from the tombstones. Blackness in a sea of night.
Something crashed through the brush behind him in the distance, followed by bark of a big dog. John had trouble as he stepped over the low spiked fence that surrounded the graveyard. For a second he had to put all of his weight on his bad leg and came close to impaling himself.
John remembered another fence, a six-foot iron one that spanned the front of the property, the half-inch thick bars thrust at the sky like black spears. If it circled the whole property, how the hell was he going to get out?
The barking grew louder.
As he limped between the gravestones, John heard the old man cursing in the distance, farther away than the dog, but getting closer. Terror's icy hand gripped John Burke's heart. His feet stopped moving and he dropped down onto a soft, moist patch of earth and leaned his back against a marble slab that marked someone's final resting place, someone whose troubles were over for good. John put his head into his hands as despair washed over him.
He wasn't going to get away. Not on a bad ankle. Not with his hands cuffed. Not from a madman with a dog and shotgun. A madman who kept humans like cattle, who beat men to death with a hammer, whose wife ran a human butcher shop. They were close, the old man and his dog. John could hear the dog tearing through the underbrush just inside the woods, just beyond the cemetery fence. In a minute it would all be over. He wondered if Gail would ever find out what happened to him? To die like this, in a bone yard, victim to a crazy old man and his even crazier wife.
Fear, despair, hopelessness--these feelings surged through John as a sob racked his body so hard it bounced his back off the marble tombstone and shot a bolt of pain down his spine. Then, as if cleansed by fire, those feelings melted like snow, replaced by something new, by something better, by something that fueled him--Rage.
Perched in front of the grave next to him was a thick marble urn, holding a bouquet of long dead flowers. John rolled to it, grabbed the urn in both hands, and dumped out the withered flora. He felt the comforting weight of the urn, heavy enough to crush a dog's skull, or a man's.
He wasn't going to make it easy. If they were going to kill him, they'd have to work for it. The headstones were too small to hide behind unless he crouched down and John didn't want to crouch down and hide. He was through hiding, besides, his ankle couldn't take much crouching. Better to let the dog see him, try to get rid of the mutt before the old man made it out of the woods.
The underbrush got quiet. The dog was out of the woods. No more barking. The moonlight and the shadows played tricks on John's eyes. A glimpse of movement at the fence then nothing. He strained his eyes, willing them to see through the darkness but it was his ears that responded, picking up the quick thumping of padded feet on the wet grass. The sound coming from his left. John raised the urn and turned, then heard it behind him, much closer. A throaty growl. He tried to spin around but the furry beast hit him in the back.
Claws raked his bare shoulder blades as he slammed face first into the ground and the marble urn flew from his hands, useless. Sharp teeth gripped the back of his head and shook it like the stuffed head of a doll. His scalp tore--he actually felt it--as the dog growled and bit harder.
"Get him, boy!" the old man shouted from somewhere near the edge of the woods.
John used his good left leg to push into the ground and roll. The dog tightened its grip on John's head and tried to roll with him but John used his arms to topple the German Shepherd off of him. As the brute tried to regain his feet, John kept rolling until he was on top with the dog pinned under him. The canine's jaws sprung open, looking for something to bite as John grabbed the animal's big head, one hand on each side, and forced the handcuff chain and part of the leather belt into the back of its mouth.
With his naked body pressing down on the dog, John forced the Shepherd's head back. The handcuff chain cut into the roof of the dog's mouth as John pushed back harder and harder. The beast's nails ripped at John's chest and thighs, but still he forced the big head back until the dog's agonized yelping was cut short by a loud crack, like the dry snap of a rotten branch, as its neck broke and body went limp.
John rolled off of the dead dog and struggled to his feet. The old man yelled, "Did you get him, Butch? Did you get him?" John turned toward the sound of the man's voice and saw him stumble out of the woods, just on the other side of the fence, shotgun held across his chest. The old man's eyes locked on the animal lying on the ground. "Butch!" he cried, voice cracked with emotion Then he raised his shotgun.
John dropped behind a headstone just as a blast ripped through the air. Pellets smacked into the other side of the stone. Then, as the double click of a new shell being racked into the chamber echoed across the graveyard, John scrambled away on all fours, keeping his head below the top of the tombstones.
By the time he reached the cemetery fence, John could barely move. His breath came in ragged gasps; his chest, shoulders, and thighs were on fire; and the back of his neck felt wet and sticky. He lifted his cuffed hands over his head and wiped at his neck. His palms came away covered with blood, blood that looked almost black in the moonlight.
One foot got tangled going over the fence and John fell, landing with a thud on the other side. Behind him, fifty yards at most, he could hear the old man's quick shuffle coming across the cemetery. The old man mumbling and cursing to himself. Once John got into the tree line he felt a little safer, something between him and muzzle of that shotgun. But the going was slow. Much tougher than before. He started to feel dizzy. The dog had torn him up and he knew he was bleeding badly.
He'd made it this far but knew there was no way he could make it all the way back home, at least not tonight. Too tired and too hurt. But with the dog dead, all he had to do was shake the old man off his trail, then hole up somewhere until daylight. In the morning he would parallel the road just inside the trees to keep out of sight. His house was only two miles away. He would make it even if he had to crawl on his hands and knees the whole way.
He ran into the fence. Six feet tall, made of pointed wrought iron bars, no more than ten inches apart. Impossible to slip between them. The bars braced by two thin rectangular, iron beams that ran the length of the fence. One, a foot from the ground; the other, a foot from the top.
John hadn't gained any distance on the old man. He could hear his thrashing back in the trees, his slow, steady pace, his mumbling punctuated by curses.
There was only one way to get out and that was over the fence. John set his feet on the bottom support and grabbed the top crossbar with both hands, but with his wrists cuffed he couldn't spread his hands out. He couldn't climb.
He managed to pull himself up so his chin was over the top of the fence and then swung his good leg up. It didn't go high enough. Arms straining, he swung it up harder and managed to hook his heel on the top support, between two of the bars. That's when he lost his grip.
John fell but his foot stayed. He heard his ankle crack and he screamed. Caught between the two vertical bars and the horizontal support, his bare foot was wedged in tight and he hung upside down, naked, like a stuck pig being bled in a slaughterhouse.
The old man stepped out from the trees, shotgun held across his chest like a soldier. Fifteen feet from John, he raised it to his shoulder and grinned as he pulled the trigger. CLICK.
"Goddamit!" He racked the pump, took aim, and pulled the trigger again. Another empty click. This time he slammed the pump back and stared into the open chamber. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled, then grabbed the barrel in a two handed grip.
He swung it like a baseball bat at John's head and all John Burke could do was close his eyes. Just before the wooden stock crashed into his skull, he heard himself say, "Gail."
* * *
Gail Burke was on the toilet, in the middle of peeing, when the doorbell rang. "John," she heard herself say. "God, please let it be John." She pulled on her jeans and ran to the door, didn't even flush. But it wasn't John. It was a man, old but distinguished looking in a dark suit with a pale blue tie draped in front of a starched white shirt. She glanced behind him and saw a van parked in her driveway. Not a minivan, but a full-sized, white work van, windowless except for the driver and passenger doors. No name on the side.
"Can I help you?" she asked, losing hope her caller had anything to do with John.
He raised his hands slightly and she noticed they held a round plastic container. Rubbermaid, or Tupperware, with a lid on it. "Yes," she said.
"Mrs. Burke?"
Gail nodded.
My name is Muller, Frank Muller. He nodded to the right. "I live on Cemetery Road."
She gave him a brief smile.
"I've read about your...your husband's disappearance in the paper."
At first she'd had a lot of visitors like this. Well-wishers, sympathizers, but it had been two weeks and people had stopped coming by. Mostly, she guessed they thought John's disappearance maybe wasn't so mysterious after all. Middle-aged man, married for a dozen years, suddenly takes off. Maybe found a young girl. No mystery there. But she knew that wasn't what he'd done. Something terrible had happened. She could feel it.
"Thank you," was all she could think of to say.
He raised his hands again. "I've brought you something. Chili, my wife's secret recipe."
She looked at the container. The two-gallon size. That's a lot of chili, she thought. She caught a whiff of it as he slipped one hand under the container and lifted part of the lid with the other. He said, "Chock full of beef and beans. Put some meat on your bones."
Gail felt her face flush. Her jeans hung loosely on her hips. She'd lost ten pounds since John disappeared and hadn't had it to spare to begin with. "Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr..." She couldn't even remember the gentleman's name.
"Muller," he said.
"Of course," she said quickly. "Thank you again, Mr. Muller." Gail reached for the container. "To be honest I haven't felt much like cooking and that smells delicious. Please tell Mrs. Muller that I said--"
Mr. Muller shook his head. "Buried her recently."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
As she took the chili from him, he forced a smile. "I made it but it's her recipe so if it's good she gets the credit." He laughed a more genuine laugh. "And if it's bad, I'll take the blame."
She felt the heat through the plastic. They said goodbye and Gail Burke went inside to eat a bowl of Mrs. Muller's secret recipe. She felt her stomach growl with hunger. If it tasted as good as it smelled, maybe she'd have two bowls.
THE END

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---
Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, United Nations Fleet Command
Date [standardized human time]: January 15, 2137
The predators’ war strategy hinged around hitting the two Federation founders where it hurt. The Kolshians always offer severe resistance, as they proved they could hold their own against the masters of killing, after all. During my therapy sessions, one topic discussed was the reality that the Commonwealth could’ve intervened on the cradle. They’d possessed the technology and the numbers to smack an Arxur raid down like it was nothing; instead, they’d watched as the Gojids were pushed to the precipice of extinction.
Had I known about Nikonus’ apathetic view of our woes, back when Cilany and I visited Aafa, I would’ve gutted him with my claws then. The Kolshians would be the more satisfying of the founding duo to combat; I could envision the smug look on their chief’s face. However, on an objective level, it was clear-cut which conspirator was the easiest to undermine. The Farsul States were the brains of the empire, and their worlds were ripe for the taking.
The Farsul and the Kolshians disagreed on the handling of humanity’s survival, with the States contributing to the ill-fated extermination fleet. Their ships were known for being damage-sponges, a more prey-like and displayable attribute than their conspiratorial counterparts. The Farsul elders, like their Ambassador Darq, made a grave error of judgment at the summit on humanity; tipped off about their genocide participation by Earth, the Arxur moved in on their homeworld, Talsk. The grays’ raid nearly succeeded, and was warded off with substantial losses.
I’m sure Talsk has rebuilt its forces, just as Earth has replaced their army. Still, they’ve been weakened by the war, while the Kolshians have been waiting in the wings.
Cilany listened astutely, as I told her via FTL call-link what I was authorized to disclose. “So let me get this straight. You’re going to drop into Talsk’s inner orbit within minutes, and land solely to access the Galactic Archives?”
“That’s correct,” I answered. “Humanity can’t afford to spare troops on an occupation. They don’t bomb civilians either. The goal is to trap the Farsul within their own world, and cut them off from the galaxy.”
“And they’re pulling any crew with training in ground combat from the starship? Including you and your human pals.”
“Crewing the ships was equally as difficult as building them, Cilly. Logistically, we don’t want more mouths to feed up here, and we also need men for every battleground and occupation across the galaxy. Sillis, Fahl, Mileau, ground defenses. If you can hold a gun and keep your wits, you’re part of the landing party.”
Tyler referred to it as being a utility player in a game called baseball, which involved smacking a stone with a metal club. I didn’t grasp what he was on about, and I didn’t dare to ask. That human was rather unapologetic with his predatory hobbies.
Cilany pressed her toes to her head. “So you’re cobbling together the ‘nonessentials' from your ship, and they’re all heading planetside during an orbital battle? That’s suicide.”
“The predators have a distraction planned. The Farsul ships should be…concerned with other events. I’ll be fine. We’ve got a plan.”
A plan that involves de-orbiting a lunar body, and fits in with the general picture of Terran psychosis. A normal day in the United Nations’ service.
“Thanks for the non-answer,” the Harchen reporter grumbled. “I thought we were friends, Sovlin! Give me something. Like…why was there satellite footage of naval armaments being loaded on to Terran carriers, which we know from subspace trails were heading Federation-bound?”
That was the other deranged part of the mission, which was anything but a routine landing. The Terrans noticed a patch of Talsk’s ocean was unreadable by standard sensors, during stealth recon. Intelligence coupled this with communications between Archives staff, discussing “shipping exercises.” Like any normal species, the primates drew the conclusion that the Farsul were hiding incriminating information underwater…and based their mission parameters on this assumption.
Did the United Nations believe that habitats under the ocean were possible? If the humans weren’t grasping at straws on this one, I’d be beyond impressed with their deductive skills. At this point, I didn’t think their insanity was up for debate. Cilany wasn’t going to hear intel that was damaging to their species’ reasoning skills from me.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know about the boats,” she pressed. “What good do those do in an orbital clash? Are you landing by water ship?”
I jabbed a sharp claw at the camera. “If you wanted to know that, you’d be here with us. They’d sign off on it, undoubtedly. Believe it or not, humans send reporters with their troops into war zones.”
“I’ve heard of them. ‘War correspondents,’ covering conflict from the front lines, armed only with a camera. I’m willing to take risks for a scoop, but that’s lunacy! I, as a non-human, like to gather my stories in areas without active firefights.”
“These FTL comms saved your ass then. You’d be out of the loop for weeks. I’ll keep you informed of the results when the mission is complete.”
“I won’t push you more, for now. Whatever you find in the Archives, I want to be the first to know.”
“I’ll see what I can do. So long.”
My eyes turned to the triangular shuttle waiting in the hangar bay. I was aware the Terrans had a myriad of new contraptions, but this design seemed foolhardy to me. A narrow, aerodynamic vehicle was optimal for atmospheric travel. Thankfully, I didn’t have to pilot this craft; while it was made to transport crew, it was self-flying.
Samantha and Carlos had saved me a seat, while Tyler and Onso manned what was considered the back-up pilot and co-pilot’s chairs. What I’d been told at the briefing was that we would descend to sea level, before transferring to a submarine. My immediate inquiry was if the humans had ever seen a Gojid swim, but they just laughed. The amusement was followed by a patronizing smile, and a response of “That won’t be necessary.”
I swear, if the plan is for me to ride on Carlos’ back and no one is telling me, I’m gonna claw some binocular eyes out.
“Hello, Onso.” I recalled Dr. Bahri’s advice to be kinder to the primitive in my inner dialogue, rather than regarding him only by his innate ignorance. “You ready?”
The Yotul flicked his reddish ears. “I mentioned on shore leave that I wanted to break Farsul skulls. They have their paws in every pot, every mind in the Federation. I’m sure as shit ready to fight them.”
“I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous. Land creatures don’t belong…sinking into the ocean. I mean, this submersible ship does not float. How do we get back up?”
“Same as flying. Air currents versus water currents. You trust human tech or you don’t.”
“I’m more comfortable in space too, but it’s good the navy is finally going to get a cut of the action. Humanity needs to win on every terrain and theater of war,” Carlos growled.
“My comments about the space era aged like milk,” Samantha griped. “I called a sailor friend of John…of my husband’s ‘obsolete’, and now they’re airdropping warboats. Just my luck; I’ll never hear the end of it if they get a single kill.”
I gently tapped her hand with my paw. “It might be good for you to reconnect with some of your old friends.”
“Spare me the ‘Kumbaya’ therapy shit. I mean, good for you, but you don’t need to proselytize.”
Tyler cleared his throat. “Let’s keep it professional, people. We’re pulling a stealth jump behind each of Talsk’s four moons, but we can’t get closer than that. Entering real space any second.”
“As if you’re professional,” Onso snorted.
“Remind me how many game controllers you’ve broken? We’re so close to kicking these Feddies in the backside, and I want—no, I need to get this perfect. Are all of you ready?”
“I’d like to live to see the Federation fall,” Sam sighed. “Ready, sir.”
“And I’d like to live to see galactic peace,” Carlos countered. “Ready here too, sir.”
Before I could offer up my own assent, Tyler raised a hand for silence. The shuttle’s digitized replica of the main viewport depicted the shadow of a moon, and a small handful of human carriers snuck through other gravitational hiding spots as well. Launching too soon or too late would result in our demise. We had to wait for the distraction to draw the Farsul’s attention; I had no idea how humans planned to move the smallest lunar satellite.
The fact that we got this close, under their nose, shows the lasting consequences of the Arxur attack. The Farsul’s barebones defenses aren’t equipped to catch us in their net; their outposts, with key scanners, were picked apart too.
The enemy would be alerted to our presence, once the predators made their move to disturb the smallest moon. The target body lagged a short ways behind our satellite haven’s orbit, which meant our carrier could watch the show. Human military affairs always intrigued me, from how they conjured the impossible with every battle. There was “thinking outside the box”, and then there was ignoring the box’s existence altogether. Rules and conventional wisdom didn’t apply to them.
Our viewport plucked stills of box-shaped human craft. In real time, they were blurs that accelerated from behind the target moon’s shadow; that energy expenditure definitely caught the Farsul’s eyes. The objects had been gaining momentum within subspace, and exited warp at a mind-boggling pace. These were evident drones, though they were unlike the Terrans’ conventional battle technology. I squinted in confusion, as the lead cubical craft blazed toward the deformed rock without slowing.
The first impact caused a geyser of debris to erupt from the moon, while the drone was obliterated. There appeared to be a slight slowing of the lunar body’s orbit, though it was fractional. It was insanity to think they could redirect a celestial object’s momentum. The humans were undeterred, however, and launched more of the peculiar boxes into the moon.
“Reverent Protector,” I murmured. “They’re chipping away at its momentum. Throwing ships at it…”
“Until it changes course.” Carlos released a shrill noise by blowing air through his teeth, which made me flinch. “It’s simple kinetic impact. I remember we used this same tech to deflect an asteroid from Earth back in 2129.”
Onso flicked his ears. “It’s like shifting a boulder that’s already rolling downhill. It’s got a shit ton of momentum, but you collide enough objects, with enough force, and you could theoretically change where it’s rolling to.”
“So this was a brute-force planetary defense system, that you weaponized because you’re predators. Carry on, I guess,” I huffed.
Panicked Farsul ships rushed toward the moon, but they, understandably, were not prepared to stop murderous monkeys from dislodging a massive satellite. The United Nations chipped away at the orbital momentum, deflection by deflection, until the speeding rock had visibly changed its arc. Talsk’s gravity won out in the absence of a blistering orbital velocity, and the mile-wide rock began to careen toward the planet.
Tyler took that as our cue to launch the triangular shuttle, which was prepped for this moment, away from our carrier. The Farsul vessels concentrated fire on their falling moon, and struggled to simultaneously fend off Terran warships which harassed them on approach. To top it off, our big guns were within orbital range, but the predators were using precision strikes against bases rather than antimatter city hits.
There was no way for the enemy to watch for surface-bound transports, with all of the chaos preoccupying them. I wasn’t surprised that no craft moved to intercept us, and that the ride down to Talsk’s surface looked to be seamless. The idea of descending below the ocean still left me riddled with unease; my spines were bristling, and it wasn’t from the humans’ eyes.
“Your crazy plan worked.” I tried to focus on the Farsul missiles fruitlessly impacting their own moon, rather than the blue patches enlarging before us. “I’d love to have ears inside the enemy ships. They don’t even know what hit them.”
“Ah, yes. Doesn’t it suck when your moon becomes a meteor with a few love taps?” Sam snickered.
Tyler allowed himself an amused snort. “Yeah, I hate when that happens. Really ruins your day.”
We breached the atmosphere in graceful flight, with flaming resistance enveloping our ship outside. The battle overhead receded into the background; it wasn’t our job to spectate the Farsul moon’s fate. Our shuttle’s autopilot had everything under control, throttling through the outer bands of a foreign world. It slowed our pace to a manageable glide, once the sparkling ocean grew nearer. Water stretched as far as the eye could see, even from hundreds of meters up.
There was nowhere to land that I could make out, and the ropes and parachutes at the rear of the aircraft pushed a suggestion into my brain. What if the plan was for us to jump or rappel from the aircraft, onto a submarine’s hull? Where were the submersibles anyways…had their airdrop not preceded us as planned? My claws wrapped around the harness tighter; everything that could go wrong was at the forefront of my mind.
We’re slowing down, but not fast enough! Something must be off with the computer. We’re going to slam belly-first into the water, not hover.
The humans weren’t panicking, so I tried to convince myself that those thoughts were my fear speaking. However, the choppiness of the waves was visible, and I saw no way to stop in time…at least, not without an inertial dampener failure and the death of us all. My remaining spines were trying to escape from my back; I was almost ready to scream to brace for impact. A mechanism shifted in the shuttle’s belly, and it was then that I suspected we were gliding for a landing.
We touched the surface of the water, but instead of sinking, we bobbed gently like a leaf. Our supports splashed the water, and slowed, while balancing atop the waves like it was nothing. I breathed an uneasy sigh of relief, grateful that I had kept my mouth shut amid the humans’ composure. The predators always had wild plans, like plunking an airworthy craft into desolate seas. We were out of the proverbial burrows.
Then, without warning, the floats gave out, dropping all support from the triangular craft. Primal terror gnawed at my heart, as our ship started to sink.
---
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Evil often wears a mask.
John Burke felt his tendon tear. It happened just past the DEAD END sign, an instant after his foot struck the edge of the pothole. His right ankle folded and he went down hard--real hard--on the rough asphalt road.
Mid-summer morning, just outside New Orleans. Nylon jogging shorts and a tank top were no protection against road rash. His right knee hit first, then his hands. The pebble-studded pavement devoured the skin on both then bit into his hip, but he barely felt the hip. Maybe the shorts helped, or maybe by then John was in too much pain to notice.
He lay in the street--thank God cars were rare on Cemetery Road--bleeding, clutching his leg. Everything forgotten except his pain. He could see his ankle already starting to swell, turning purple along the inside. When he tried to flex it a white hot bolt of pain shot up his leg.
This is bad, John thought. Really bad. Doctor Van Dykes, surgery, months of physical therapy...
First thing--get off the street. John rolled onto his left side and had to stop and catch his breath as a wave of nausea washed over him. As the blood ran from his hands and knee where the road had carved away hunks of meat, he watched bright crimson drops splash onto the asphalt.
Hundred-year-old oaks overhung Cemetery Road, their branches draped in gray beards of Spanish moss that shaded the street. A quarter-mile past the DEAD END sign, the road bridged over the Chinchuba River, a slow-paced tributary no more than a couple dozen yards wide. Some mornings, mist drifted off the water's surface and into the woods on both sides of the road, giving the place a surreal look.
A perfect place to jog--run--John Burke didn't like using the "J" word. Jogging was what people did on weekends as they watched their bellies grow. John was a runner. At least four times a week with half-a-dozen races a year.
The nearest house--the only house on Cemetery Road--stood at the end, half a mile away, next to the graveyard for which the road was named. Maybe, just maybe, he could limp there, borrow a phone, call Gail. John looked at his watch, just 7:15. His wife didn't leave until eight. If he could get to a telephone she could pick him up and drive him straight to Doctor Van Dykes' office.
The trip was torture. Taking short hops on his left leg, he could make it only ten or fifteen feet before he had to rest. To rest John had to drop his right foot down and put a little weight on it and that sent waves of pain shooting up his leg. Behind him, he saw a trail of blood like red tears on the ground.
At the end of the road, the pavement gave way to a gravel driveway flanked on either side by two white stone columns. A six-foot, spiked, wrought-iron fence disappeared into the woods on either side. Hinged inside the columns gaped a pair of wrought iron gates. Mounted on the left hand column was a brass plaque with the number 100 etched in black. 100 Cemetery Road.
John paused at the top of the driveway and leaned against one of the gates to catch his breath. The drive descended at a slight grade, curved to the right, then vanished into the woods. He'd run past the driveway hundreds of times but had never actually seen the house or the cemetery. There was always something slightly unsettling about the look of it, something that made him pick up his pace as he ran past.
After a deep breath, he started hopping down the gravel drive, using trees along the way as resting points. The house was a hundred yards past the gate. A big two-story, clapboard construction, that looked run down, almost seedy. It had suffered years of wood rot and badly needed a coat of paint.
The gravel path ended at a two-car garage attached to the right side of the house. Left of the house, on the other side, past a stand of trees, John caught a glimpse of the cemetery. He could just make out a low iron fence and a few gray tombstones.
A wooden porch with a decayed railing spanned the front of the house. The front door was solid wood, without windows.
He leaned against the frame and knocked. A minute passed. John knocked again, this time pounding with the bottom of his fist. At least another half minute went by before he heard slippers shuffling on the floor just inside. The door opened just a crack and a white haired old lady peered out. "Yes," she said, suspicion in her voice.
John held up his right leg, showing his bloody knee and black and blue ankle. Exhausted, he didn't have time to mince words. "I'm hurt. Can I use your phone?"
The old lady looked down at John's leg. A look of concern washed over her face as she threw open the door. "Come in. Oh, my goodness, come in."
John stretched his arms across the doorjamb as he hobbled inside the threshold. "If I can just use the phone, my wife will come pick me up."
"What on earth happened?" she said, leading him through the foyer.
"Twisted my ankle in a pothole."
"Oh, my word," she said, turning to look. "Is it very bad?"
"I think so."
"Come sit down. Let me get you something."
The foyer floor was tile, but he wanted to be careful. "I don't want to get blood on anything."
She shook her head. "Don't be silly. Blood washes right out." The old lady stepped toward John and took hold of his left arm, letting him lean some of his weight on her.
In the den, John was relieved to see a wooden floor. As he dropped onto the sofa, he nodded toward a telephone on an end table. "If I can just use the phone..."
A strange look flashed across the old lady's face, but was gone in an instant as she nodded toward the telephone. "That one doesn't work." She pointed toward a door that looked like it led into the kitchen. "You stay put. I'll call somebody for you in just a second, but first let me get you some water."
John tried to protest, but she was determined. While she was gone, he eyed the room. The den was big, with six bay windows overlooking the woods behind the house. The room was filled with old-fashioned furniture and had a cavernous fireplace at one end, but it also had a worn look, and a smell. A smell John always associated with old age, with his grandfather's house in the last few years before he died.
Next to the dead telephone was a framed black and white photo of a pretty young woman in a riding outfit, posing at what looked like the front gate of a ranch. It was the old lady, much younger and much thinner.
When she came back carrying a tall glass of ice water in one hand, John still had both hands clutching his swelling ankle. He jabbed an elbow toward the photo, more for something to say than anything else. "Is that you?"
She nodded. "My father owned the Rocking R ranch.
The name was familiar. One of the biggest meat suppliers in the state. "Owned?" He stressed the past tense.
She nodded. "After Daddy died, we had to sell. Rising interest rates and the drop in beef prices, we got just pennies on the dollar." She sounded bitter.
For a second she stood quiet and John used the lull to introduce himself and explain how he'd hurt his ankle.
She handed him the glass. "I may have seen you jogging before. Looked like somebody was chasing you."
John thanked her and smiled at the image that popped into his head of this nice old lady lurking in the woods close enough to see the road. As he took a long sip from the glass, he noticed a slightly bitter taste that reminded him why he drank bottled. "You live here alone?"
"No. My husband and I are retired. For forty years we owned Muller and Son funeral home."
"That's where we had the service for my father," John said.
"I'm sorry." She patted his shoulder. "When did he pass?"
He had to think for a second. Time flies. "Two years this past spring," he slurred.
She stared at him with a look of compassion. "Our son would have handled that. We sold the business to him four years ago."
John's head began to spin. The glass slipped from his fingers as he crumpled to the floor. Darkness.
* * *
John Burke cracked his eyes and saw blinding lights. Then felt thumping. Someone was thumping on his chest. He opened his eyes all the way. White light, bright white light. Flat on his back, he tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes but his arm wouldn't move--at least not far. Just a couple inches then something held it. Same thing happened when he tried to use his other hand.
John felt a cold hard floor beneath him--the rough surface of cement--as he rolled onto his side. There was something wrong with his hands. They were trapped at his waist as he tried again to shield his eyes from the blinding light.
More thumping, this time on his left shoulder. He blinked several times to clear his vision. His eyes focused on a bearded, bare-chested, fat man, squatting on the floor next to him. A pair of steel handcuffs clamped on the big man's wrists were fastened to a belt encircling his waist.
"You okay?" the man said.
John just stared at him, realizing the man wasn't just bare-chested, he was completely naked.
"I said, are you okay?" the bearded man asked again.
"Where am I?" John's head felt like it was going to split open.
The naked fat man shrugged. "I don't know."
John looked down at himself and saw that he too was bare-assed, his own wrists handcuffed and bound to his waist by a two-inch wide leather belt. Using his elbow and good knee, John started to snake away from his new acquaintance.
"You can't get away," the man said.
Get away from where?
The pain in his ankle made him stop. He looked around, saw he was in a room maybe thirty feet by thirty feet. Besides him and the fat man, there were four other men in the room. All naked, all handcuffed and belted.
The bearded man hadn't moved. "It's not me you got to be afraid of." He pointed toward the room's only door. "It's the old man."
* * *
The old man had been in four times to bring food. Slop was more like it. He came into the room carrying the thick brown paste in a couple of five-gallon buckets. The stuff tasted like it had a lot of lard in it.
"How long have you been here?" John asked.
The bearded man--Skeeter he called himself--just shrugged. "The old man always keeps the lights on so we can't tell the difference between day and night."
Along one wall was a chest-high trough into which their keeper poured the paste. A second trough along the adjacent wall held water. Like animals, the men stood in front of the troughs, stuck their faces into them, and slurped.
Like everyone else, everything of John's had been taken from him while he was unconscious: shorts, shirt, socks, shoes, and most important, his watch. In addition to belted handcuffs, the other men wore leg irons, essentially a pair of oversized, stainless steel cuffs with a foot-and-a-half of chain between them. But John had been spared that, probably due to the size of his swollen ankle.
Skeeter didn't know why he was here, why any of them were here. "I was just hitchhiking"
"Hitchhiking?"
He nodded. "On the interstate."
"The old man was driving a van. Pulled over and gave me a ride. After a few minutes he reaches into a cooler between the seats and hands me a beer. I'm talking about a sealed up beer. Popped the top on it myself. I took couple of sips, remember thinking it tasted kind of funny, like it got spoiled. Next thing I know I wake up here--like this." Skeeter tugged at his handcuffs, rattling the chain looped through the belt.
During the next several feedings John got pretty much the same story from three of the other four men. All hitchhikers, all picked up by the old man. The fourth guy, the one the others said had been here the longest, didn't talk. Just leaned against the wall in a stupor.
"Something in the food," Skeeter said.
"What do you mean?"
Skeeter patted his gut. "I didn't have this when I got here." He nodded toward the food trough. "And it makes you tired all the time."
* * *
Feedings. That's the only way John Burke had of marking the passage of time. Seemed like they were spaced out evenly, several hours apart, figured maybe three times a day. It was after the seventh feeding that the old man came and took away the guy who wouldn't talk--the sleepy guy.
He came in wearing a full-length plastic apron and carrying an electric cattle prod. He used the prod to shock the sleepy guy in the ass and wake him up, then delivered a couple more jabs to drive him from the room. Just after the door closed behind them, John heard the two bolts shoved into place.
"What the hell was that about?" he asked Skeeter.
"That's the third one I've seen him take."
"Do they come back?"
Skeeter shook his head.
"Where do they go?"
"I don't know. But...I'm afraid my turn's coming."
"I want to get out of here," John said, "and that looks like the only way out."
"Bad as this place is, I got a feeling what's on the other side of that door is a lot worse."
Hungry as he was, John barely ate. A couple things he'd noticed, the other four men were flabby and they slept a lot, especially after a feeding. The food--slop they called it--had to be the reason. The thick brown paste made everyone fat and sleepy. Something in it, some type of sedative, and maybe something else, something that made you want more. John couldn't remember ever being so hungry. Still, he only took a mouthful at each feeding.
And while the others slept, John worked. The leather belt around his waist was buckled at the back and secured with a small padlock. The handcuffs ran through a stainless steel ring in front. He'd tested the steel parts, the buckle, the lock, and the ring, but didn't think there was any hope of attacking them; the only weak spot was the leather itself.
So as soon as the others filled their bellies and nodded off, John would hobble to the drinking trough. He'd found a slightly rough edge at one corner and had begun scraping the belt against it. The belt was thick and the leather tough. The going was slow, but at least it was something. And something was better than nothing.
* * *
Just after the twenty-ninth feeding, that's when the old man came and took Skeeter away. He'd taken two more since that first one, and two new ones had come in. They came in one at a time, three feedings apart, and just like he imagined it had happened to him, the old man dragged them unconscious into the room and left them. They'd each awakened, naked, shackled, and groggy.
Then it was Skeeter's turn. He must have known because as soon as he heard the bolts slip back his face turned white. He backed himself into one of the far corners, trying to put as much distance between himself and the door as he could.
Skeeter had told John he used to be a wrestler, high school and college, back before the drugs and the booze, back before he'd hit the road. Since then he'd ridden his thumb, crisscrossing the country in search of a good time. Skeeter put up the best fight John had seen from any of them, but the belt, the handcuffs, the leg irons, and the cattle prod were just too much. One two-minute round was all the former wrestler had in him. After that, he was lying on the floor in a puddle of his own urine, a blubbering pile of flabby flesh covered in scarlet welts.
The old man grabbed the chain between Skeeter's ankles and dragged him through the door. Helpless, John just watched. The most terrifying thing was the old man's lack of emotion. No spark of evil in those eyes, just the look of a tired man trying to get through another day.
By the thirty-fifth feeding--John figured eleven or twelve days since he arrived--he had managed to saw through almost the entire two-inch leather belt, just an eighth of an inch remained.
Only one other of the original five who were in the room when John woke up was left. The old man came in, wearing his black plastic apron, and carrying the prod. In a minute it was over. He'd prodded the man through the door on hands and knees, the poor bastard doing everything he could to keep from getting shocked. This time only one bolt clicked into place.
For what seemed like an hour John sat in the middle of the room and watched the door, his stomach twisted with fear. Just as exhaustion overtook him and his head started to nod, the bolt shot open and the old man swept back into the room, wielding the cattle prod like a sword. John slid backward against the far wall as the old man's eyes fixed on him. But there was no hatred in them, nor malice as he strode toward John, waving the tip of the prod in a "come here" motion. As the cool wall pressed against John's back, he felt his bladder let go, felt the warm liquid spill down his thighs.
I'm going to die.
(to be continued...)

It might sound like an impopular opinion, it probably is from what I heard about how peoples liked the games but I'm gonna explain.
There is a trope in fiction that I like a lot : the disappearance of Magic from the human world. The Lord of the Rings and Hellboy are two references that I have in mind.
In Tolkien's universe, as time goes, the elves that are not leaving Middle-Earth for the land of Valinor are slowly loosing their immortality and their magic. The dwarves, going always deeper under the earth, are to disappear. Orcs and goblins will hide in the darkest corners of the world. Eventually, as the Age of Men continues, all that is magical disappears. And once the heroes of the past are dead, there is nothing magical and nothing wonderful and fundamentally good about humanity. Tolkien's plan for a new story after the Lord of the Rings would have featured evil powers coming back in secret cults among humans while their world gets darker and darker and the tales of other creatures than men were becoming legends. In this universe, magic slowly disappears, just like any magical creatures, which become the legends and fairy tales of our world.
In Hellboy, a universe that I exclusively know through the movies, magical and even demonic creatures have always been existing on earth. Before the arrival of humanity, they were everywhere and lived in peace. Mankind appeared and led war against other magical creatures. In the second movie about the Golden Army, we hear the tale of the elvish realm who waged ware against humanity and created a mechanical legion to defeat them. The extent of the slaughter, targeting soldiers and civilian alike, convinced the king of the elves to stop the army and dismantle the crown controlling it. A peace was then signed with Humanity. And millennia later, Humanity reign on the whole world, forcing magical creatures to live in abandoned industrial zones or slowly fading away. This leads to Prince Nuada's return to collect the parts of the crown controlling the Golden Army, in an effort to wipe out Humanity from the surface of the earth. He couldn't accept Humanity's destruction and oppression and the disappearance of magic and all fairy creatures from the surface of the earth. He would eventually be killed, with his sister, ending the whole elvish royal family. In this universe, magical creatures are still there and are fading away, far slower, but there are also attempts to revolt against Mankind and this de-enchanted world.
This trope I think is very very effective as we're living in a world that's more and more understandable, less and less obscure, inexplicable with less and less room for fairies, for fantasy and for magic and magical creatures. Imagining a world were magic still exists, even if withering away, in the corner of our existence, and who's struggling to survive against this polluting and industrial, overexpanding humanity.
More specifically, I really like the approach of Hellboy with the idea of a rebellion of magical creatures.
In the context of Fables, what could have been done with this ?
I would have loved an even more industrial Fable 4, with technologies similar to the beginning of the XXth century on Earth, so much things could have been done in that direction. If the industry in Fable 4 was limited to some neighborhood in Bowerstone and in Millfield (mostly for resource exploitation), we could imagine that a later Albion would be even more industrialized and discovered and inter-connected. There would be train tracks, Oakvale would probably be re-established as some new city in the marshes which are slowly disappearing, Aurora would probably be annexed to Albion and exploited similarly to our universe's colonization. The Monarchy, in the end, wouldn't have changed a bit and after the death of Fable III's hero, it would return to its authoritarianism and disconnection from the population as capitalism strengthens its grip in the life of the population.
In that setting, it would be interesting to start as a new hero, with natural powers and without gloves, far from the royal family. Maybe in the Gypsy community in the mountains or in the poor industrial neighborhood of Bowerstone. And if I'm not gonna start a full description of a story, the game could focus on a quest in contact with magical creatures to organize the return of magic in the human world. Of course, this wouldn't come without its problems and the kingdom of Albion would be opposed to such a quest as soon as it would hear about it. There could be some circumstance alliances with Reaver, who would fight to preserve his immortality. And there could be an alliance with Albion proletariat, all this population, exiled from the countryside, exploited and used for the machines and industrial production and who keep in mind the many tales about fairy creatures and similar beings of magic. And the game could end on the return of Magic in the world of Albion and in an actual revolution against the monarchy in Bowerstone, expanding the use of magic to maintain the people's living conditions and to fight against tyranny.
And there would be the return of magic, why not the reformation of the Heroes' Guild and so much more things like that. And that's why I would have loved an even more industrial Fable 4...

Since freshman year I’ve been in and out of trouble, often getting myself in all kinds of nasty situations. It was around that time my grades started to drop and my parents got more complaints from my teachers. I hung with the wrong crowds and would often get suspended. Over the years things got worse. My problems left school and became minor offenses with the law. Everything from shoplifting to vandalism. I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve been dragged home in a squad car, only to be snatched in and scolded by my dad.
In the middle of senior year not much had changed. My grades were overall still piss poor and I almost got busted for selling prescription pills. At that point I had messed up so much that my parents finally decided that they’ve had enough. They gave me an ultimatum. I had just turned eighteen, so they told me either I got my shit together, or they were going to let me go - one more mishap and I was out of the house.
Honestly, I’ve been wanting to move out and get away from my parents for a while anyways. My “unruly” and rebellious acts in high school was a result of their constant bickering and attempts at controlling every aspect of my life. I’ve become more and more annoyed with them as time passed.
After our talk I became determined to stay out of trouble. I still needed somewhere to stay before leaving, and I didn’t want to get thrown out before I found a way to support myself. I was motivated to turn my life around. But I had to start somewhere, and it was in an industry I knew I’d hate working in.
Fast food.
I found a position at a burger joint. After a few weeks of faithfully punching the clock after school, and fulfilling my duty as a cashier, I really was off to a good start. That was until I decided I needed a car. Although my job was only a few blocks away, I thought I would need some reliable transportation for myself in the future.
Obviously I had no money to purchase a new car, so I planned on buying a used one. One day after school I made a trip to the nearest dealership and searched for a used vehicle with a low price. I wanted to get the car as soon as possible, but I had no credit and I couldn’t pay the full price up front. I searched for other solutions.
An old acquaintance told me about a guy called Bucky-Mac. He told me this guy would loan me the money for the car no matter what my credit was like. From what I've heard, Bucky-Mac was primarily a drug dealer, but he also lent money to desperate people on the side.
Apparently he's been around for years, so I found it odd that I've never heard of this guy before. The fact that this guy was pretty much a loan shark did very little to deter me at the time. My sudden enthusiasm and hope that came with finally wanting to get my life together and taking my future seriously kind of clouded my judgment.
I went to the guy that my old friend had informed me of. Bucky-Mac spent a lot of time in a spot located on the other side of town. It was in a wooded area, at the end of a long dirt road deep into a labyrinth of trees. I rode my bike over there that day, so it took me about ten minutes to travel down the dirt road and reach the small wooden house with boarded up windows.
There were four black trucks parked on the property, with a few men hanging out and standing here and there. One guy smoking a cigarette turned and spotted me coming his way. He stopped in the middle of taking another swig and stared at me as I came closer. The other guys nearby spotted me soon after. I rode closer to the guy with the cigarette and hopped off my bike. All the eyes glued on me made me feel uneasy, so I was slow about speaking. After seconds of awkward silence the cigarette smoking guy says,
“Who are you?”
The curious men that surrounded him looked as if they also wanted to know.
“I-I’m Jake. I’m here to talk to Bucky-Mac,” I said.
He nodded his head in approval before flicking his still lit cigarette away. Then he gestured for me to follow him. I was led into the nearly dilapidated house, as many of the other guys had their gaze locked on me as I entered.
The place was mostly dark inside. But there were a few dimly lit areas, many of which were occupied with boxes and blocks of a suspicious substance heavily wrapped in tape. There was a guy inside hauling many of the blocks into the boxes as he taped them up. The house also reeked of marijuana. The scent was so strong I was surprised it didn’t hit me while I was outside.
We made a turn down a hall which had a closed door at the end. The guy in front of me knocked twice when we reached it. The door swung open in seconds, revealing a middle aged man standing in the doorway. He was smiling. He glanced at me quickly then laid eyes back on the guy in front of me.
“Who is this?” he asked.
The guy in front me shrugged his shoulders.
The middle aged man’s smile grew wider. He had one gold tooth. His hair was slicked back, and it shined in the sunlight beaming in through the window behind him.
“How’s it going?” He said, still smiling.
“I’m fine, man. You?” I replied.
Although I felt a little uneasy, I tried to present myself as confident and just as friendly as this guy appeared to be so far.
“Why don’t you come into my office?” He said, stepping back and giving way for me and the other guy to enter.
We walked in then the middle aged man closed the door behind us. There were two chairs sitting in front of a decorative desk, which had a revolver and a half consumed glass of liquor near it. I took a seat in one of the chairs, as the man came and sat behind his desk. The other guy stood by the door.
“So, what’s up? "
“You are Bucky-Mac, right?” I asked.
He picked up the glass of liquor and gulped down what remained before saying,
“Of course, mate! All day everyday.”
I looked behind me and saw the guy by the door grinning. Then I spun back around only to see Bucky-Mac still smiling.
I sighed.
“I need to borrow some cash,” I said.
From there I explained my situation. I told him that I just turned eighteen and was about to graduate high school in a few months. I informed him of my bumpy years of high school, why I wanted to turn my life around after graduating, and how the money would allow me to buy a car, which would be convenient during the job hunting process.
“Hmm, I see,” Bucky-Mac mumbled, staring at his desk, “You seem to be a man of good intent. You made some mistakes, and now you wanna do better. I can respect that.”
He pulled a bottle of booze from behind his desk and started to refill the glass in front of him.
“You know, most people would find this hard to believe. But sometimes I wish I did the same when I was your age,” Bucky-Mac continued, “If I had thought the same as you earlier on, I’d have a much more stable life right now.”
I heard the guy by the door chuckle, as if he disagreed with Bucky-Mac’s statement.
“Thanks, man,” I said.
He offered me a drink, but I kindly turned it down.
“No worries, pal. You have my support,” Bucky-Mac assured, “So how much we lookin’ at?”
The second I left Bucky-Mac’s spot I headed straight for the dealership and purchased the car I’ve had my eye on. Then on the following day I pulled up to school in it. Some of the kids standing in the crowd in front of the school building noticed me as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. A few of them were my friends, and I often walked to school with them everyday.
They were surprised to see me suddenly pull up to school driving a car, and no longer walking with them. I must say, it felt good to drive around in a vehicle that I could say was mine. Although it was only a cheap used one, it was still my first car.
Among some of the kids in the crowd was a girl. She was standing in an area alone by the front doors. She was really tall, towering over most of the boys that stood in a group not too far away from her. Her eyes were locked on me as I drove by.
Abatha is her name. I’ve known her since first grade. No, we weren’t quite friends. If anything we were the opposite. Abatha has been a total bitch to me ever since the first day we met as small children.
It all started in second grade. Abatha snatched a toy from me. Then she proceeded to push me down and go crying to the teacher, saying I was the one that took the toy from her. The teacher believed her, and I was put in time out. I remember seven year old Abatha teasing me for the rest of the day after that.
This small childish incident led to non-stop feuding between us, year after year, well into our high school years. Most of it was initiated by her.
Often Abatha would taunt and harass me every chance she got. It became worse at the beginning of high school when my years of delinquency began. She had many field days laughing and making fun of me the second she found out I’d gotten into some trouble.
Her harassment was never anything more than verbal. Abatha never physically assaulted me, or displayed a desire to do so. I found this odd, as she very well could've, and inflicted some damage due to her large size. She’s always been a larger girl. Even when we were younger she had always been taller than me. By the time junior year came around she was 6’4.
As I pulled into a parking spot I saw Abatha grin before turning and entering the school building.
Two hundred fifty dollar payments a week. That was the deal. I told Bucky-Mac about my job as a cashier and he was willing to work with me. I expected close to half of my check to be gone every time I got paid for the next few months, but it was for a good cause.
I returned to Bucky-Mac’s spot one afternoon after leaving work, to pay him his share. The first week of paying was a piece of cake. Easy in, easy out. But it was when I went back the following week I realized I may have made a grave mistake.
He wanted double of what was paid the previous week. Five hundred dollars.
When he told me that, my stomach dropped. During our negotiation he specifically said two hundred fifty dollars per week. I was confused as to why he was changing the terms and conditions.
“I forgot to mention a little something called…interest,” Bucky-Mac explained, “Look at it this way. You’re helping me, help you.” Bucky-Mac said.
That friendly smile he once had when I first met him had turned into something else.
I already knew there would be some interest involved, because otherwise he wouldn’t make any profit lending money. But I didn’t expect it to be that much. Fortunately I was able to make the payment, as I could work more hours than most high schoolers who were restricted by child labor laws. But I barely had any money left afterwards.
When I went back the third week he wanted a thousand dollars.
One thousand dollars.
I mean, there was just no way he could expect me to pull that kind of cash on the spot. Especially after I told him about my low paying occupation.
I told him I couldn’t pay him that week. Then that’s when the shit hit the fan, and the guy beneath that friendly façade came to surface. Bucky-Mac’s smile faded completely, then he abruptly gained an expression of pure rage.
“We had a deal,” he said, standing up out of his seat.
That same guy from before was standing by the door, but the second Bucky-Mac stood up out of his seat, he moved in closer to me.
With my heart now racing, I mumble, “You didn’t say anything about interest rates this high -”
“We had a deal!” Bucky-Mac shouted.
“Dude, I get that. But w-we agreed to something totally different!” I said, now starting to get even more nervous.
I glanced behind me once more and saw that the other guy was almost leaning right up on me, still glaring. At this point I wanted to just run out of the room.
As Bucky-Mac walked from behind his desk the guy behind me wrapped his arm around my neck, locking me in a tight choke hold. I struggled to break free but the guy was too strong.
“What the fuck is thi - “ I started.
Before I could finish my sentence, Bucky-Mac came and punched me in the stomach. I grunted in pain then coughed multiple times. Then he kneeled down to look me right in the eye, as the guy behind me still had a hold on me.
“Now I’m gonna tell you this, Jake. I don’t like being ripped off,” Bucky-Mac said.
I felt the guy's arm slightly constrict around my neck tighter.
Bucky-Mac searched my pockets then pulled out all the cash I was carrying, which wasn’t very much.
“You’re short on payment,” he continued, “From now on, I want full payments every single week, starting next week. By then, I expect two thousand dollars sitting on my desk….no excuses. Or we’re gonna have some serious problems, Jake.”
Bucky-Mac delivered a few more punches to my gut before the guy behind me finally released me, letting me fall to the floor as I held my stomach.
“You can leave my office now,” Bucky-Mac mumbled, drawing a cigar from the inside of his suit.
After that incident I hadn’t returned to Bucky-Mac’s spot for two whole weeks. Bucky-Mac called my phone constantly during that time. I ignored. Every time my phone rang and I saw his number my heart would instantly leap. I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I had to think of something quick.
In the meantime, everyone at school was already excited about prom. I wasn’t. I had gotten myself caught up in some debt. Prom was the last thing I cared about.
During the next few weeks that’s all everyone at school discussed. My parents even brought it up to me, expressing how they hoped I planned on going to the last prom of high school. At first I disregarded their suggestion and didn’t plan on going. I had no one to take. I was pretty sure anyone I asked would’ve turned me down anyways. But to my surprise, someone asked me to prom instead.
A girl named Alexis. This was odd because I hadn’t interacted with her much over the years, and I barely knew her. But she told me she had no one to take to prom and she’s been checking me out for some time. So reluctantly, I agreed to go to prom with her. Afterwards, we spent some time hanging out and dating off and on. Some mornings I’d even pick her up and give her rides to school in my car.
One morning Abatha caught Alexis and I getting out of my car and heading to the school building. Abatha was standing alone once again. This time she was scrolling away on her phone. She spotted us out in the parking lot, then waited for us to approach her. Another mischievous grin plastered her face.
“Looks like the troublemaker caught himself another fish,” Abatha said as we passed by.
When I didn’t reply, Abatha stepped out in front of us and blocked our way.
I sighed.
“Abatha, not today”.
I had to look up to her as I spoke.
“I don’t wanna get into it with you right now. Please move,” I continued.
I took Alexis by the hand and tried to move around her but she just blocked me again.
Abatha did this often. I’ve had many girlfriends throughout high school. Every time Abatha saw me with a new girl she’d come and embarrass me in front of my date.
Every time.
I sighed again. Abatha chuckled.
“What’s wrong, Jakey boy?...still feelin’ butterflies?” Abatha taunted.
She glanced at Alexis.
“Let me ask you something,” Abatha continued, stepping closer to Alexis, “Does he often get…jittery, when you’re alone?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your busine - “ Alexis started.
“Does he scream when you see him with his pants down?” Abatha interrupted, “Only asking because he did it before. When I pulled his pants down back in sixth grade…..wait, have you seen him with his pants down yet?”
Agitated, Alexis took me by the hand and made her way around Abatha, pulling me along with her. As we trotted along, I glanced back and saw Abatha frowning. I smirked at her as we walked further away. Abatha rolled her eyes in frustration before turning around and going in the opposite direction.
I was just getting off work on one Saturday night, as my shift had just ended. My manager was counting the till and I just cleaned the last table in the restaurant. While I waited by the door for the manager to lock up for the night, I saw a black truck pull into the parking lot outside. The truck parked right beside my car. My guess was a last minute customer. Evidently my manager thought the same because he told me to tell whoever was in the truck that we were closed. When they came to the door, that is. But no one ever did get out of the truck. About ten minutes had passed by and they were still sitting there letting the engine run.
My manager and I stepped outside after he had set the alarm and finished the till. Then the both of us went our separate ways in the parking lot, after the manager had locked the restaurant doors.
When I got to my car I tried to sneak a peek into the truck that was parked beside me but the windows were tinted very dark.
Go figure.
I heard the manager start the engine on his car and pull out of the parking lot. That’s when a door on the mysterious black truck suddenly shot open. A large man hopped out of the back seat and grabbed me from behind, hauling me into the truck afterwards.
As soon as the large man threw me into the back seat, I was reminded that I had told Bucky-Mac where I worked when we first met. I told him part of my schedule, and gave some specifics on times. I had also informed him of some other things I couldn’t recall at the moment. I know I may have told him a little too much but the guy seemed so friendly at first I thought I could trust him.
The guy that hauled me in pushed me further across the seat, before getting back in himself and closing the door. Someone else in the truck flipped on a light. Then I could clearly see Bucky-Mac sitting right beside me. He didn’t look happy.
“Sup, Jake?” He said.
He stared at me with cold and menacing eyes.
There were two guys in the front. They were looking back at me, holding expressions similar to Bucky-Mac’s.
“You’ve missed some payments, and it better be for good reason. Now, I hope you have cash to cover these couple weeks you’ve decided to skedaddle,” Bucky-Mac said.
He continued to glare at me, waiting for a response.
“I-I’ve been trying to get the money. What do you think I’m at this restaurant for?” I stammered.
He snickered then covered his face with his hand.
“Now, that’s a good one!.....But it’s still unacceptable. You haven’t been paying, and you’ve been ignoring my calls,” he snarled.
He elbowed me in the face, striking me right in my nose. My nose began to gush blood.
One of the guys up front lit a cigarette, then that’s when Bucky-Mac and the large guy sitting on my other side started to viciously beat me. They kicked my ass in that back seat for minutes, then the large guy opened the door again before shoving me outside on the ground.
The black truck backed up and took off, leaving me behind in the moonlit parking lot.
My entire body was aching like hell, and one of my eyes throbbed non-stop. I touched my bottom lip. It was swollen, and felt slightly enlarged. I could barely stand up straight heading to my car, as the pain had caused my body to beg for rest.
As I opened my car door, I heard something from a distance. A strange sound. Like a howl. It was echoing out into the night, and it went on for seconds. I turned in all directions making several attempts at finding the source.
I found nothing.
I even glanced at the sky. There was nothing there but the half moon.
I had dug myself deeper into the debt hole by not visiting Bucky-Mac for those two weeks. He increased my debt even more, and accounted for the times I didn’t show up. As expected, he doubled the amount for each week. This meant I owed him a total of eight thousand dollars as of the night in the parking lot.
After that I made sure I stopped by Bucky-Mac’s spot and paid him as much as I could for the following few weeks after, even though it was nowhere near enough. As a result of the low payments, I received more beatings everytime I went. But I had to keep going and pay him what I could, otherwise he’d do something worse if I didn’t show up at all.
But what was I kidding. I was never going to pay off this debt. At this point I realized that’s exactly how Bucky-Mac wanted things. He wanted a constant flow of cash that never ended. Even if I showed up to his office one day and paid what I owed in full, he’d just double the debt and kick my ass again.
The beatings were getting unbearable. I couldn’t take it anymore. So I felt I had to skip out on him for a couple more weeks as a way to catch a break from getting my ass kicked. Again I ignored his calls when he hit up my cell phone. After that I just anticipated the black truck waiting for me outside of my job.
Bucky-Mac didn’t show up at my job anymore. He came to my school instead. After the bell rang and the school day came to an end, fear showered me when I walked outside and saw the black truck parked across the street.
I planned on giving Alexis a ride home that day, so she was by my side as I tried to ease my way to my car. Unfortunately I was spotted as I crawled into the driver’s seat. The backdoor on the black truck swung open, then that same large guy from before came trotting across the street. When the guy approached my car, he swung my door back open then gently pulled me out of the driver’s seat.
“Jake, where are you going?” Alexis said, “Who is this?”
The guy held his arm on my shoulder as he walked me across the street to the black truck. He faked a smile and pretended to be an acquaintance to avoid drawing the attention of the nearby students around us. We got to the truck then the guy shoved me into the back seat once again.
I met Bucky-Mac with an unsettled gaze the second I was thrown in. I could hear Alexis constantly shouting my name outside.
“I thought I wouldn’t have to tell you again,” Bucky-Mac mumbled, “But it looks like you’re a pretty terrible listener!”
With that, the guy up front started to slowly drive away from the school. I glanced out the window and saw Alexis jogging on the sidewalk to keep up with us. The truck made a stop after a block of cruising. They parked near a curb closeby.
Another beating was initiated, and I can tell you this was the worst one yet. They gave me double the amount of blows to my body. I received so many strikes to the face I was surprised I could see at all when it was over.
Alexis peeped through the window with her hands cupped around her eyes, yelling for them to stop.
“Stop it, you’re gonna hurt him!” she cried.
They kept going, punching and elbowing me for minutes. I could feel blood elevating my throat.
Bucky-Mac drew a knife and held it to my pupil.
“Listen here you little shit. The next time you screw me over, not only are we gonna beat you twice as worse and twice as longer, but I’m gonna take my blade…and pluck one of your eyes,” He threatened.
He brought the blade even closer to my eye. Almost to the point where I could almost feel the tip touching my eyeball.
“You can’t afford to test me again, Jake.”
I was shoved out of the truck once more, only to be meant with Alexis crying on the sidewalk. The panic on her face grew more intense when she saw my nose dripping with blood.
“Jake, what’s going on?” she sobbed.
I didn’t answer.
Someone else was walking towards us on the sidewalk. It was Abatha. She saw Alexis crying, then glanced at me. As soon as she saw my battered face there was an expression of concern.
Abatha wasn’t smiling.
Alexis broke up with me the next day. She got spooked by the incident and decided she didn’t want much to do with me anymore. Our plans to go to prom together were also canceled. The incident had given Alexis the wrong impression - that I was still engaging in pathological behavior. She complained of not being able to be around me anymore, saying,
“So these are the kind of people you deal with?!...If that’s the case, then I’m afraid we’re not gonna work.”
She walked away then barely spoke to me anymore after that. Then of course Abatha just had to be nearby to witness and overhear everything. Abatha was already holding her usual grin when I glanced at her.
“Looks like you messed up again, Jakey boy!” She teased, “Your fish unhooked itself and swam away?”
I glared at her angrily, then brushed past her to enter the school building.
It was pretty disappointing for our plans to be canceled. But hell, my whole ideal ending for my senior year had been canceled as far as I knew. Just when I was starting to grow more enthusiastic about senior prom all hope was taken away. Prom was just a month and a half away and I no longer had a date to take. To make matters worse, Alexis had already found another prom date within days after splitting up with me.
Abatha wouldn’t shut up about that. She rubbed it in face for days.
“Well that was quick. We’ll see how fast you can find another date…if at all,” she said before trailing away, giggling.
I lifted a middle finger at her as she walked.
At this point in time I no longer cared about the car. I wished I could return it and take back everything. I just wanted out of this debt with Bucky-Mac, and for senior year to just end already. I was giving up on all hopes for my plans for the future. As a matter of fact, after being too afraid to face Bucky-Mac once again and skipping out on meeting him for another three weeks, I decided that I’d contact the police and inform them of the situation I’d gotten myself in soon. Then let my parents know what was going on.
I was sure my parents would definitely kick me out after finding out I made a deal with a loan shark. But I didn’t care. Keeping a secret wasn’t worth my life. Or in this case - my eye.
Unfortunately I made the fatal mistake of not acting on those thoughts soon enough, as I ended another night shift at work with the black truck waiting for me out in the parking lot. My heart leaped instantly as I felt my body run cold. I wanted badly to just tell my manager everything and beg him to call the police for me. But instead all he did was activate the security system and lock the doors as usual. Then he pulled out of the parking lot, leaving me to endure what was to come.
The black truck pulled out of its parking spot and made its way over to me. That same large guy hopped out and started to haul me into the truck.
“Get his ass in here!!” I heard Bucky-Mac hiss.
We all heard something. Then the large guy holding me paused.
It was the same howling sound I heard before. Again it echoed out into the night, and got louder the longer it went on.
“What the hell is that?” The large guy said.
“Who gives a shit?!! Get him in!” Bucky-Mac demanded.
The large guy did just that.
This time instead of giving me the usual beating quickie, they pulled off as soon as I was hauled into the truck and drove me back to Bucky-Mac’s spot. The truck halted at a stop upon arriving at the small raggedy house.
This was my first time at the spot during the night, and it looked a bit different. There was no kind of artificial light in this wooded area so it was a lot darker than usual. But the light from the full moon above provided enough to see around the dark pit that surrounded us.
The men shoved me out of the truck and started their beating ritual. The other two men joined in this time, punching and kicking me, barely giving me a chance to breathe. In the middle of all this was the sound of the howling again.
The large guy was the only one to acknowledge it. He paused, but Bucky-Mac and the other two continued to beat me.
After minutes of receiving many more blows, they all stopped. The large guy positioned my body to lean against the back tire of the truck. Then Bucky-Mac drew his pocket knife and kneeled down to face me.
I moaned and groaned from the painful sensations moving throughout my body.
"I tried," Bucky-Mac started, "I've really tried to work with you. But it's obvious you're a fraud."
He had some nerve. The loan shark, calling me a fraud.
"I think you get a kick out of not giving me what I want…what I deserve.”
He opened the blade on the knife and brought the point to my eye.
“Now I’m gonna take something away you desperately want….and don’t deserve,” he continued.
I swore I could feel the tip of the blade slightly drive into my sclera. Before it could go any deeper, we all heard that howl for the third time that night. Except it sounded very close this time. So close no one could ignore it. Not even Bucky-Mac. He lowered the knife then glanced behind him, as that’s where it seemed the howling came from.
There was nothing there but a patch of darkness resting between the trees.
“What the - ?” Bucky-mac whispered.
As we all stared at the patch of darkness, two glowing dots emerged in front of our eyes.
Two yellow glowing dots.
Behind the yellow dots came another howl, along with some deep and beastly growls.
The dots started to come closer, then continued until whatever was hiding in the shadows came out into view, and was exposed beneath the moonlight.
The sight of the creature we were looking at had caught us all off guard. Bucky-Mac dropped the knife then all five of us began backing away.
In front of us was some kind of tall and fury beast. The creature stood upright just like a human, and had to be no less than seven feet tall. Its muscles were so defined they practically rippled through its black and shiny coat of fur. Turns out the yellow dots were the creature’s eyes. Those beady eyes were locked on us, as we backed away even further.
The creature opened its long snout full of pointed teeth, dripping with saliva, and let out a deafening, monstrous sound.
"Bucky, what the hell is going on?!" One of the other guys shouted.
"H-how the fuck should I know?" Bucky-Mac yelled.
I could hear the fear and concern in their voices.
The creature let out several smaller growls, then suddenly began sprinting towards us on all fours. Bucky-Mac and his guys drew pistols and began firing multiple shots at the hairy beast.
I turned to run but instantly tripped and fell on my stomach. The sharp pain in my stomach left me stagnant for seconds.
Bullets struck the creature in several areas on its muscular body. The gunfire seemed to do little to no damage, but it was enough to keep the creature temporarily distant. The beast backed off then started to crawl up the walls of Bucky-Mac’s small drug house. The men continued to fire at the creature until it reached the roof.
“Come on, kill this fuckin’ thing!” Bucky-Mac shouted, firing away with his revolver.
With many bullets still striking its body, the creature took a huge leap off the building. It jumped so high I could see the full moon behind it’s body as it accelerated through the air - towards us. It landed right on top of the guy who drove the truck, crushing his puny human body and taking a huge bite out of his head afterwards. Blood sprayed from the exposed brains in his skull, dousing his partner in the face nearby and preventing him from seeing where he was shooting.
The guy screamed and tried to flee the area. He could barely turn around before the creature took one of its paws and ran its razor sharp claws across his face, slicing one of his eyes in the process and leaving three gruesome gashes behind.
Shocked, Bucky-Mac dropped his gun and watched the creature lift his disfigured partner off the ground and pull one his arms clean off his body. The guy screamed in agony as his stump cascaded with blood and fell to the ground like a waterfall. He wiggled and twitched in pain, making several feeble attempts at breaking free of the creature’s grasp.
Bucky-Mac turned and started to flee. The big guy followed behind him, dashing right past me, and leaving me alone with the beast.
The creature turned and started to stare at me with those yellow eyes, still holding Bucky-Mac’s mangled partner in its hand. The fear and terror left me paralyzed. I couldn’t move.
I started to feel a little light headed, and keeping my eyes open became difficult.
The last thing I remembered before I passed out, was those glowing eyes and those sharp canines dripping with crimson.
When I woke up I couldn’t tell how much time had passed. I stood up and scanned the area, only to see the truck still beside me. The mangled bodies of the driver and passenger of the truck were laid out not too far away. But Bucky-Mac and the large guy were nowhere to be found.
The creature had disappeared too.
I wasted no time. Right away I started to run, trying to make my way out of that neck of the woods. While darting through the trees, I came across two more bodies, one slumped on its side and the other on its back.
I ran to one of the bodies and rolled it over using my foot. I almost screamed when I saw the face. It was Bucky-Mac, and he was unrecognizable. His face had been completely torn away, leaving nothing behind but his exposed and bleeding face muscles. His mouth was slightly open. Opened wide enough for me to see his one gold tooth.
The large guy’s torso had been torn open, his body sprawled out, eyes staring out into nothing but the darkness that surrounded him. Dried blood was caked all over his face and neck.
I heard some growls.
This caused me to start running again. I got a glimpse of a pair of yellow eyes hiding in the middle of some trees as I passed by. I ran faster. Then I heard multiple footsteps behind me.
It was following me.
I made it out of the woods and reached a street light out on the road, where I sat down on the curb and took some time to catch my breath. I didn’t hear the footsteps anymore so I assumed I was safe. I also glanced behind me again and saw nothing pursuing me.
That thing had all the time in the world to maul me to bits. It could’ve easily caught me while I was running…so why didn’t it?
For some reason I still felt a bit light headed. I rested my head on my hand. But while doing so I felt a rough substance on my forehead. I brought my finger to my face to see what I had touched. Something blue and dry.
Lipstick.
Someone kissed me.
My parents wondered where I was and wanted to know why I was getting home so late that night. I lied and said I went to a party after work. They were a bit upset that I didn't call and let them know what was going on. I was fine with that. I was just glad to be alive, and for the first time since forever I was happy to see them.
It was that night I realized I would be just fine staying with my parents for a while longer. I also decided that I had no problem working at the burger joint until I figured out what I really wanted out of life, and college just may be a possibility in the future.
I continued to faithfully show up to work and complete my shifts, and wait patiently for my senior year to come to an end.
Meanwhile, the authorities found Bucky-Mac and his men. Then they raided his drug house. No one could identify the cause of their deaths, or tell whether another animal or human was responsible. The story was all over the news, and it had people in town shook. Everyone kept talking about the gruesome killings until the end of the school year. Who or what might have done it was always up for debate.
To this day, no one knows that I was there to see it all. I always got uneasy overhearing someone at school talk about it.
Two weeks before prom I opened my locker to see a pink envelope lying on top of my books. I picked it up and saw Abatha's name written across the front. While tearing open the envelope I sighed and rolled my eyes, expecting to see something crude and belligerent.
There was a folded letter inside, and upon opening it my eyes went wide. My heart started racing, and I was shocked to my core. At the very top of the page was an imprint of lips with…
Blue lipstick.
Below that was a lengthy letter from Abatha, explaining how she really felt about me. How she's felt for a long time. In the last paragraph was something else that left me perplexed.
She was asking me out, and she wanted to be my girlfriend.
She..she also wanted to take me to prom.

Not every town is on the map.
"Daddy, I gotta pee."
Dale Thornton looked over his shoulder at his six-year-old son belted into the back seat of their Jeep Cherokee. As the boy squirmed around, Dale looked at his wife in the passenger seat beside him. "Didn't he just go?"
Carol glanced at her watch. "That was over an hour ago." She twisted to look into the back seat. "Can you hold it?"
In the rearview mirror, Dale saw Jesse shake his head. His wife checked her watch again. He could almost see the wheels turning inside her head. She was the family mediator, and she had just come up with something that made perfect sense. One of the reasons he loved her so much was her ability to change gears. In himself, Dale recognized his single-mindedness as a drawback. He admired her flexibility. In more ways than one, he thought. She was a good wife and a good mother.
"It's almost five," Carol said. "Let's stop at the next town. We can all use the restroom and get something to eat."
Dale tugged the spiral-bound road atlas down from where he had wedged it between the visor and the roof. They had left Tulsa that morning, headed for Mardi Gras, and he hoped to be in New Orleans by 10 p.m. Looking at the LOUISIANA page, his eyes traced the route he had highlighted in yellow. They had detoured down old U.S. 167. Rural America was disappearing and Dale wanted his son to see something of it before it was completely gone.
They were somewhere south of Ruston. He couldn't remember if they had passed Jonesboro or not, so the next town was either that or--if they'd already passed it--Winnfield. The gas gauge was on a quarter of a tank. They needed to stop anyway. "All right, honey," he said. "We'll take a break."
Carol laid a hand on his leg. "I'm glad we came this way. You can't see anything from the Interstate."
Ten miles later they sprang upon a small town. There was an old-fashioned, carved wooden sign posted beside the highway. Dale read out loud, "Welcome to Batesville. Population 875."
"What's that mean," Jesse asked.
Dale glanced at his son in the rearview mirror. "That's how many people live here."
"When somebody dies, do they change the number on the sign?"
Carol smiled over her shoulder at Jesse. "I bet they change it when a baby is born."
Just like her. She didn't like to talk about death or dying. Instead, she liked to focus on the good things in life, babies, birthdays, and family vacations. She had always been like that but more so since her grandfather passed away last year. She had been very close to him, closer than she had ever been to her father.
Dale sneaked a glance at her. She was his angel but an angel with dark secrets. She had shared some of those secrets with him but not all of them, probably because she knew the abuse in her life disturbed him so much. "That sign probably hasn't been changed in twenty years," he said.
"Why put it up if it's not right?" Jesse asked.
Good question. "I don't know, son."
As they got into the little town, Dale was impressed. The side streets that cut off of the highway were lined with neat wooden houses, most of them with white picket fences. A lot of the little towns they had passed through looked run down and dirty, but not this one. Batesville was clean and pretty.
When they came to the town's only traffic light, Dale saw a business on each corner: a hotel, a gas station, a restaurant, and the Batesville General Store. Before the light turned green, Dale pulled the Jeep beside the pumps at the gas station. A middle-aged man wearing oil stained coveralls stepped out from the office. "What can I do you for?" he asked. His tone was friendly, something you didn't hear at many gas stations these days.
Dale stepped out of the driver's seat and stretched. "I need a fill-up and some food." Then he jerked his thumb toward the back seat. "And my son needs to use the head."
The man wiped his hands on a rag he pulled out of his pocket. Then he shook Dale's hand. "Dudley Simpson. I can help you with the gas and the bathroom for your boy, but as for food, afraid all I got is potato chips and sodas." He pointed to the restaurant across the street. "Right over there is the best food in town." He laughed. "Only restaurant we got, but I wouldn't kid you. It's really good. Restroom's not too bad either."
Jesse said he could hold it until they got to the restaurant, so Dale sent him and Carol across the street to get a table. When he reached for the gas pump, Dudley Simpson stopped him. "I don't charge extra for full service. Every car comes through here I pump the gas, look under the hood, and check the tires."
"Don't see that too much anymore," Dale said.
"Guess I'm kind of old-fashioned."
After Dudley finished, Dale added a couple of bucks to the bill. He felt a little awkward, unsure if he could tip the owner of a gas station without insulting him. But Dudley took no offense, just said thank you and asked him to stop in again on their way home.
When Dale turned the key, nothing happened. He turned it again and still nothing happened. Just a click. No dash lights, the motor didn't turn over, nothing. Dudley told him to pop the hood again. After Dale turned the key a couple more times with Simpson's head buried under the hood, Dudley said he'd found the problem. "Alternator's shot. You must've been running on battery for a good while."
"Can you fix it?"
The gas station owner looked at his watch. "Not today. Parts store is closed 'till tomorrow."
Great, just great, Dale thought.
"I could arrange a tow to somewhere else, next town down the highway has a Goodyear Service Center," Dudley said, "but even they won't get to it until tomorrow."
Dale nodded, his mind stuck on having to spend the night in Batesville instead of New Orleans.
"I'll get to it first thing," Dudley said. "Have you out of here by ten o'clock." He pointed at the hotel. "Mrs. Jensen has a nice place. A-C, cable TV, and no bugs."
Great. No bugs.
Dudley told Dale that he could leave the Jeep right where it was. No need to worry about it, he said. They had a town marshal but nothing ever happened in Batesville. So quiet the state police never even came by.
"Sorry I'm blocking your pumps," Dale said.
Dudley shrugged. "Other side's open." Then he looked at his watch. "Besides, it's five-thirty. I close in half an hour."
As he crossed the street, Dale remembered his gun. A Smith and Wesson .357 revolver that he always brought with him on road trips. You never knew what could happen. They might break down on the highway and get attacked by a drug-crazed motorcycle gang. The gun was in the cargo compartment, wrapped inside a cloth and tucked between the spare tire and the side wall. It would be safe enough.
At the restaurant he told Carol the news and in typical Carol fashion she looked on the bright side. "It'll be fun being stranded in a small town," she said. "Who knows what'll happen?"
"Do they have TV?" Jesse asked.
A cute young waitress served them. The plastic tag pinned to her blouse said her name was April. When she brought out their food she set Jesse's down first.
"That's the cutest little mark on your face," she said. "Almost looks like lipstick."
Unabashedly, Jesse pointed to the red oval shaped birthmark set high on his right cheek. "It means I'm special."
She smiled. "It looks like a kiss."
"Really?" Jesse asked.
Dale saw a look of contentment on Carol's face. Jesse's birthmark was something she'd never wanted their son to be shy or embarrassed about.
The waitress set out the rest of the plates. "I heard a mark like that means that right before you were born an angel kissed you."
Jesse turned to his mom. "Is that true?"
Carol smiled at her son and nodded. "I think she may be right."
April bent down and kissed Jesse on the top of his head. "I'm not an angel, but there's a kiss from me."
Dudley Simpson had been right; the food was excellent. After they ate, Dale got up to use the bathroom. "You need to go again, Jess?"
The boy shook his head. "No thanks."
Dale handed Carol a credit card. "Let's save our cash."
She nodded. "All right, baby."
"Back in a sec," he said as he turned away.
***
When he came out of the men's room, Carol and Jesse weren't at the table. The waitress had been quick. Most of the dirty plates were gone; the only ones left were his. Dale looked for his family near the front door, then up by the cash register, but they weren't there.
Maybe Jesse had changed his mind and Carol had brought him into the bathroom with her. So Dale waited, but after several minutes passed and they didn't come out, he decided to check outside. They might have gotten cold or Jesse could've gotten restless and they were waiting out front for him. But they weren't out front, either.
Across the street the lights were out at the gas station--Dudley was closed for the night. The Jeep Cherokee sat at the pumps. Anxiously, Dale looked at the hotel. Maybe...but they wouldn't do that, wouldn't have gone without him. That wasn't like Carol. Smart and independent, but she liked her husband doing the man things, and in her mind, checking into a hotel was a man thing.
Back inside he knocked on the door of the women's restroom. No one answered, so he cracked it open. "Carol?" No answer. "Carol, Jess, you there?"
"Can I help you, sir?" It was their waitress.
Embarrassed, Dale forced a laugh. "I seem to have lost my wife and son." He nodded toward the men's room. "While I was in there."
"Your wife and son?" She looked confused.
"When I came back they were gone."
She had a blank look on her face.
Annoyed, he said, "I ate with them."
The waitress furrowed her brow. "Sir, I didn't see you with anyone else."
Dale stared at her. For a second he thought that maybe he was wrong, maybe this wasn't his waitress. He checked her name tag, saw it said April. "You waited on us." Dale pointed to his right cheek. "My son has that little birthmark. You said an angel kissed him."
She shrugged. "I think I'd remember that."
He pointed to himself. "You remember me?" Then at their table. "We were sitting right there."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. I remember you, but you ate by yourself." She turned to the table where Dale's dishes still sat. "I was just bringing you your bill."
He raised his voice. "Is this some kind of a joke?" People began looking at him.
April took a step back and raised her hands. "You need to talk to Mr. Simms."
"Who's Mr. Simms?"
"The owner."
"Well that's who I want to see."
Mr. Simms was already scurrying over. "What's the problem?"
Dale turned to him. "I can't find my family." He pointed at the girl. "She was our waitress and she's telling me she doesn't even remember them."
Mr. Simms looked at April.
She shrugged again. "I'm sorry but he was alone. I've never seen his family."
Simms looked like he didn't understand. April tried to explain it again, but Dale cut her off and pointed to the table. "My family and I ate right there. I went to the restroom, came out, and they were gone."
Mr. Simms clapped a hand on Dale's shoulder. "Maybe they're outside waiting for you."
"I've checked outside," he barked. "They're not there."
Simms glanced at the waitress. "Why don't you get back to work. I'll handle this."
Dale grabbed her by the arm. "She knows where they are."
Everyone in the restaurant stared at him.
Mr. Simms jerked Dale's hand away from the girl. "Sir, she said she doesn't know where your family is."
April pleaded with her boss. "He didn't have his family with him."
"She's lying!" Dale said, as he inched closer to April.
Simms stepped between them. Looking at Dale, he said, "Have you checked your car?"
He nodded. "It's broken down at the gas station across the street. We've got to spend the night at the hotel."
Mr. Simms smiled. "That's probably it."
"What?"
"I bet they're at the hotel."
"He was by himself," April said.
The restaurant owner snapped his head towards her and pointed to the dinning area. "Go."
She looked at her boss for a second, a half-formed protest on her lips; then suddenly she spun on her heel and stomped away.
Simms looked back at Dale. "Have you checked the hotel?"
"They wouldn't do that."
"Have you checked?" Insistent.
Dale could feel himself losing control as the sweat dripped from his armpits. He took several deep breaths, trying to force himself to calm down. "No, I haven't."
"Maybe your kids got tired."
The deep breathing had made him light-headed. "Just the one boy." As Dale turned toward the door, Simms patted him on the back. "I'm sure everything's going to be fine."
But things weren't fine. At the hotel, he woke up Mrs. Jensen. Turns out she and Mr. Jensen had an apartment behind the office. Dale had banged on the glass door of the office for five minutes before a light came on.
Mrs. Jensen had come out first. A white haired old lady, covered in a paper-thin pink housecoat, imprinted with blue flowers the size of a quarter. A minute later, Mr. Jensen, looking about seventy, dressed in a full set of dark green, silk pajamas and a pair of matching slippers, stumbled into the office, smelling like he'd taken a bath in Jack Daniel's.
Dale's heart sank. He went through the story anyway, but as he expected, the Jensens said that no one had checked in or even come by since mid-morning.
Walking back to the restaurant, he looked at his Jeep. Still empty and no one near it.
A marked police car was parked near the restaurant's front door. As he got closer, Dale read the decal on the side, BATESVILLE TOWN MARSHAL. Maybe now he could get some help.
Just inside, near the cash register, Dale found April the waitress, Mr. Simms, and a heavyset man in jeans and a T-shirt, talking. As he walked up, all three stopped and stared at him. He felt like a freak in a boardwalk exhibit.
"Did you find them?" Simms asked.
Dale shook his head. "The people at the hotel haven't seen them."
The big man in jeans took a step toward him. "Mr...?
"Thornton. Dale Thornton."
The man stuck out his hand. "Jerry Stillwell. I'm town marshal."
"Saw your car outside." Dale shook the marshal's hand. "My wife and son are miss--"
"I understand there was a problem here earlier."
"Yeah there's a problem. My family disappeared."
The marshal and Simms traded glances; then he looked back at Dale. "So I heard. What do you think happened to them?"
Something didn't feel right. "If I knew that, they wouldn't be missing."
Marshal Stillwell stuck his belly out. "No reason to get smart. You all ready scared some customers. Don't make--"
"Scared some customers. Is that why you're here, because I scared some customers? My wife and son are MISSING!" Everyone in the restaurant had stopped eating and was watching the soap opera at the door. With a sharp edge to his voice, Dale said, "What are you going to do about it?"
The marshal jabbed a finger at him. "You better calm yourself down or I'll do it for you. Now I need to ask you some questions," his eyes swept the customers, "and I don't think this is the place to do it."
"I'm not going anywhere." Dale pointed to the completely cleaned off table where they'd eaten. "Half an hour ago my family and I ate right there. Now they're gone. Someone in here knows what happened to them."
The marshal dropped a big hand on Dale's shoulder and tried to guide him out the door. "We're going to find your family, but not here, not like--"
Dale pulled away. He pointed to Simms and the waitress. "They coming with us?"
"I don't see the need for--"
Dale reached out for April. "She's lying!"
With surprising speed, the town marshal slipped behind him and clamped a meaty forearm around his throat, sealing off his windpipe. Dale grabbed at the hairy arm and tried to twist it away as the marshal whispered in his ear, "Take it easy, son." Then something jabbed him in the kidney that sent waves of pain shooting up his back.
Seconds later, Dale was on the floor, his cheek pressed against the cool tiles, as the marshal handcuffed his wrists behind his back.
***
"She said it was the kiss of an angel, huh?" Marshal Stillwell asked. Things had calmed down some. Dale and the town marshal were alone in his office. Dale was still handcuffed, but the marshal had moved them to the front. He sat in a chair in front of the lawman's desk, watching him fill out forms with a ballpoint pen. Stillwell touched his finger to his right cheek. "That mark you're talking about is right here?"
Dale nodded.
"That's strange."
The handcuffs were uncomfortable. Dale twisted his wrists, trying to get some circulation back. "What's unusual about it?"
"We had a preacher in town few years back with the same kind of mark on his face." Stillwell traced a small circle on his cheek. "Heard him say once during a sermon it was from an angel's kiss."
Dale stared at the marshal, his flesh suddenly crawling with goosebumps.
"But he was a strange one. Lots of rumors. Guess it goes with the territory."
"What territory?"
"Young, good-looking preacher. Single. Moves into town, starts preaching all hours of the night." He gave Dale a knowing wink, like they were sharing a secret. "Giving special counseling sessions to half the women in town."
Grasping at straws, looking for anything. Dale said, "Is he still here?"
Marshal Stillwell shook his head. "Church burned down."
"What about the preacher?"
"We never found his body."
"He was the only one in the church?"
Stillwell looked down at the form on his desk and pressed his pen to it. "He had six or eight ladies in there with him. Supposed to be some sort of social club. Fire was so hot, we couldn't tell one body from the next. That was when the rumors really started."
Dale flexed his fingers. His hands hurt. "What kind of rumors?"
The marshal laughed. "Just gossip. People 'round here are simple minded, superstitious, that's all."
"What kind of gossip?"
Stillwell looked up. "Not everybody you understand, but some people have been talking about how the preacher isn't really dead, about how he's gonna come back some day."
Dale needed to get out, to find Carol and Jesse. There was something terribly wrong here. "Am I under arrest?"
Stillwell nodded.
In the corner stood a single holding cell, the door gaping open, waiting. "What's the charge?"
The marshal jerked a thumb in the general direction of the restaurant. "Disturbing the peace."
"What about my family?"
The man tapped the pile of forms in front of him. "I'll forward these missing persons reports to the state police in the morning; then I'll call the judge and try to get a bond set for you."
Dale sprung to his feet. "I've got to find my family tonight!"
Marshal Stillwell eased out of his chair and stood up. "Just calm down. Soon as I get this information to them, the state troopers will be on the lookout." He jerked his thumb toward the south. "Their office is just five miles down the road."
Dale nodded at the phone on the desk. "Call them now."
The marshal shook his head. "Can't do that."
"Why not."
"I got procedures to follow."
Dale Thornton squatted and shoved the desk into Stillwell. The marshal's chair rolled back on its casters but snagged on something and tipped over, spilling Marshal Stillwell onto the floor. Dale scrambled over the desk, knocking papers, pens, and a near full cup of coffee on top of the lawman, then dropped a knee into the man's big belly. The marshal curled into a ball and moaned.
Stillwell didn't have a gun on him, at least not one Dale could find. The way he was dressed it looked like he had been called out from home. Maybe he forgot his gun, or maybe he just didn't carry one. Dale grabbed a handful of shirt and dragged the marshal into the open holding cell, then kicked the door shut. It locked automatically.
By the time Stillwell staggered to his feet Dale was searching his desk. The marshal tried to rip the steel bars apart with his bare hands. "Let me out of here, you crazy bastard!"
Dale ignored him. In the bottom right hand drawer he found a gun, a .38 caliber, five-shot Smith and Wesson. Stillwell started shouting for help. Dale leveled the gun at him. "Shut up."
Stillwell quit yelling.
Dale kept searching.
A few seconds later, the marshal said, "You'll never get away with this."
Holding his wrists up, Dale rattled the handcuffs. "Keys?"
The cop pointed to the desk. "Bottom left."
After he got the handcuffs off, Dale finished going through the desk, then did a quick search of a filing cabinet that was set against the wall. There he found keys to the holding cell and a roll of duct tape.
As Dale approached the cell, Marshal Stillwell backed against the far wall. "What are you gonna do?"
Aiming the revolver at Stillwell's belly, Dale ordered him to lie on the floor. A few minutes later he relocked the cell door, leaving the marshal with his hands cuffed behind his back and a strip of silver duct tape wrapped around his head that sealed his mouth shut. On his way out of the marshal's office, Dale tossed the revolver back into the desk drawer and kicked it shut. That was trouble he didn't need.
The state police. "Their office is just five miles down the road," the marshal had said.
Darkness had settled over the Batesville. How long had he been in the marshal's office? Everything in town was closed and locked up tight. There wasn't a light to be seen, and not a soul on the street. He didn't see any payphones.
He had to get out of town. Which way had the marshal pointed when he mentioned the state police? Thinking about it, Dale decided it had to be south. They'd driven in from the north and he was sure they hadn't passed a state police troop.
The night had turned cold. If he was going to walk for five miles he needed a jacket.
It took just a few minutes to make it to the gas station. His Jeep was right where he'd left it, but when he reached into his pocket for the keys they weren't there. An image flashed through his mind. A close up shot just like in a movie. His hand reaching toward Dudley Simpson's, and in his hand, his keys.
Damn!
He looked into the rear window, saw their luggage lying in the back. Dale thought about breaking the window and getting a jacket, maybe his gun, too. Not the gun. He was in enough trouble all ready for what he'd done to the town marshal. Assault, kidnapping--maybe not kidnapping, he hadn't taken him anywhere, just locked him in his own cell--but something like kidnapping. Desperation had driven him to it. That's the only reason he had done it. Because he had to find Carol and Jesse.
He could make it without a jacket.
Old Highway 167 south. Dale Thornton started walking. Ten minutes later he saw headlights behind him, coming from town. He crouched in the bushes beside the highway, but the beat-up pickup glided to a stop next to him. An old man sat behind the wheel, alone in the truck. "You need a ride?"
Feeling like a complete fool, Dale stood. "Yeah, I guess."
"Where you headed?"
"You know where the state police office is?"
The old man nodded, then jerked his head toward the passenger side. "Hop in."
As he climbed into the pickup truck, Dale shot a glance at the old man. Probably at least seventy, with long ghost white hair and a bushy mustache, wearing a stained undershirt and a pair of denim overalls. Dale scanned the dashboard for a clock but didn't see one. "What time is it?"
The old man shrugged. "Haven't worn a watch in thirty years. Do things as quick as I can. A timepiece strapped to my wrist ain't gonna make me move any faster."
The drive was torture. Never did the old man go over thirty-five miles an hour. Only good thing was that he didn't ask any questions. Just dropped Dale off in the parking lot of the state police troop. As he walked through the door into the police station, Dale glanced over his shoulder and saw the old man's pickup rumbling down the highway.
Inside, sitting behind a chest high counter, was a uniformed trooper, sergeant stripes on his sleeves. Mid-40's, with an iron gray crew cut. "Can I help you, sir?" the sergeant said.
Dale spat out the story as fast as he could, leaving out the part about how he'd handcuffed the town marshal and left him gagged in his own jail cell.
The sergeant's face had remained inscrutable while Dale talked. "What was the name of that town again, sir?"
"Batesville."
The sergeant wheeled his chair over to a map hanging on the wall. "And where'd you say it was?"
The state cop demonstrated the same bureaucrat mentality as the town marshal. Any minute now he'd break out a sheaf of forms and start filling them out. Dale pointed north. "Five miles that way."
"What'd you say your name was again?" The sergeant glided the chair back over to his work area and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket.
"Thornton. Dale Thornton."
As soon as the sergeant finished jotting Dale's name on a pad, he looked up. "There's no town named Batesville."
"I was just there!"
The sergeant stood up. "Take it easy, sir. I'm sure you just got the name mixed up."
Just like in the restaurant.
"...get to the bottom of it." The desk sergeant was still talking, but Dale hadn't heard everything. He felt dizzy. Was everyone around here crazy? "We ate dinner there," he mumbled. "I left my car at the gas station. Dudley Simpson's gas station."
The sergeant nodded as he walked around the counter. A big man, at least six feet, with the beefy build of a weightlifter. "I know Simpson's place. Old 167 and Highway 90. But there's no town there, just the gas station."
"The gas station's smack in the middle of the town. There's a restaurant, a general store, and a hotel, too."
The sergeant closed on him, his body bladed, his gun side away from Dale. "I need you to put your hands on the counter, sir."
"What?"
With his right hand resting on his holstered pistol, the state trooper took hold of Dale's wrist with his left hand and pushed it to the top of the counter. Dale's other hand followed. The sergeant said, "Pull you feet back."
"What are you doing?"
"You have any weapons on you?"
"No! Of course not." Glad he'd left the marshal's gun, glad he hadn't gotten his own out of the Jeep.
"I'm just gonna pat you down."
"Why?" Dale said. "I haven't done anything. My family's missing?"
The sergeant slid his hands over Dale's waist and the outside of his pockets. "It's for safety, sir."
"Whose?"
"Yours and mine," the trooper sergeant said as he stepped backward a few feet.
"Something's happened to my wife and son. I came here for help."
"What happened to them?"
"I don't know," Dale said. "That's why I need your help."
"Mr. Thornton, I've worked this area for nineteen years. There is no town called Batesville."
"I don't care what you call it, but there's a town five miles away and we need to go there right now."
"Closest town is twelve miles from here and it's south."
The gas station. At least the sergeant knew about the gas station. Dale looked over his shoulder at the big cop. "Can I stand up?" After getting a nod, Dale pushed away from the counter and stood straight. Arguing wasn't getting him anywhere. "Look sergeant, maybe I seem a bit confused, but I know my wife and 6-year-old son are missing. Our car broke down at Simpson's gas station. Can you drive me there and help me look for them?"
The sergeant took his hand off his pistol and relaxed a little. "How'd you get here?"
"An old man in a pickup gave me a ride."
"You get his name?"
Dale's mouth opened but nothing came out as he realized he couldn't remember a thing about the old man or his truck. No details at all.
"What's the matter?"
Dale shook his head. "He...he just gave me a ride. I didn't get his name."
The trooper sergeant held up his hand. "Stay right here. Soon as I get someone to cover the desk, I'll give you a ride back to Simpson's."
Ten minutes later Dale climbed into the passenger seat of the state police car. The sergeant looked over at him. "Put your seatbelt on." Dale strapped himself in but noticed the sergeant didn't.
On the highway the trooper asked him to go over the story again. As Dale repeated what had happened, the sergeant asked several questions about Simpson's: what time of day, what was wrong with the car, who had the keys; but he asked nothing about what happened in the restaurant. The restaurant that wasn't there, according to the sergeant.
A few minutes later the police cruiser's headlights lit up the darkened gas station and Dale's Jeep parked at the pumps.
There was nothing else--absolutely nothing else.
The sergeant slowed down as he turned into the parking lot. "That your Cherokee?"
Stunned, Dale couldn't answer. Staring out the window, struck dumb by what he saw, or didn't see. No restaurant, no hotel, no Batesville General Store--no town. Just empty farmland and a few trees surrounding the gas station.
The trooper pulled his car up behind the Jeep, leaving a car-length gap between the two of them. "Stay here," he said as he pulled a flashlight from a charger mounted to the dash.
Dale leaned his head against the window and watched the sergeant creep up to the driver's door of his Jeep Cherokee, flashlight held out in front of him, his other hand on the butt of his pistol. The state cop opened the door--the locked door--and poked his head inside the passenger compartment of Dale's Jeep. The trooper backed out and held up his hand, Dale's keys dangling from his fingers. "Keys were inside," he shouted.
With legs quivering, Dale stepped out of the police car. He couldn't understand this. The Jeep had been locked, Dudley Simpson had the keys. He stumbled toward the trooper.
The sergeant shined his flashlight into the back, into the cargo compartment. Suddenly, his face turned to stone. He dropped the keys, drew his gun, aimed both it and his flashlight at Dale. "Don't move!"
Dale stopped dead. What the hell was...
"Get on the ground!"
Not comprehending, Dale just stood there.
The trooper screamed at him, "Get on the fucking ground--now."
Dale Thornton dropped face down onto the pavement. From the corner of his eye, he saw the sergeant side-stepping around him until he was behind Dale and to his left.
The trooper said, "Turn your head to the right."
Dale did as he was told. Then the sergeant closed in and cuffed his hands behind his back. Just the second time in his life Dale had been handcuffed, both on the same night.
After backing up a few steps, the sergeant keyed the radio clipped to his belt and called the state police troop. When the dispatcher answered, the sergeant said, "I need back up units," Dale heard him take a deep breath, "and notify the corner."
The tinny voice from the radio said, "What you got, sergeant?"
"Homicide," the trooper answered. "Suspect is in custody."
Homicide?
The sergeant hooked Dale's elbows and jerked him to his feet, then picked up the keys and opened the tailgate of the Jeep.
Lying in the back, in the cargo space, arms and legs twisted into a torturous configuration, was the naked body of his wife, Carol. At the back of her head, her golden hair was tangled and caked with dried blood. Her face chalk white, her forehead blown out where the bullet had exited. On the carpet next to her was a .357 revolver--Dale's .357 revolver.
She was alone.
"Jesse!" Dale screamed at the dark and empty fields.
***
In 1885 the town of Batesville, Louisiana burned to the ground. Scores of people were killed in the predawn fire that swept through the town. Among those reported killed in the blaze was the town's only minister, but many bodies were so badly burned that positive identification was impossible.
The fire started in the Batesville church and was allegedly set by a preacher from a nearby town. The preacher, a God-fearing and righteous man, was said to have been outraged at the evil deeds going on in Batesville, which he had called a modern-day Sodom.
The town of Batesville was never rebuilt.
THE END

[First.] (Chapters 1-2) [Prev.] (Chapters 3-4) [Next.] (Chapters 7-8)
​

Chapter 5:
FALLING LIKE DOMINOS
^{They’ve got the moves!}

Like a cackle of hyenas, the peaceful silence of the desert was broken by the despotic laughter of raiders (the ‘Rust Fiendz’ as they like to call themselves) riding in the night, their vehicles kicking up a large cloud of sand in their wake, and the smell of motor oil, sulfur, iron, and death tailing them as they drove off from one of their latest hits.
In the cabins of each rusted-to-hell pile of scrap on wheels, their jury-rigged radio crackles to life. The constant whine of static and electrical buzzing is punched through by a haughty voice. “Hey good shit back there, boys!” the gruff voice barks. Over the din of motors and engines, the roar of various vehicles’ occupants punches through, their raucous cheers just as vicious and loud as their dilapidated chariots. At the head of the pack of these rusted raiders was a heavily modified pickup truck that looked more akin to a sheet-metal sarcophagus that crashed through a hot-topic, a fitting final resting place for their war chief.
“Shit,” he snickers to himself, reveling in his recently ill-gotten spoils as he plunges a hand through a roughly made sack made out of a mysterious hide; whether it’s human or an animal remains a mystery. “Dumbass motherfuckers. Why do these starry-eyed jackasses keep trying?” He pulls out a bottle of spirits, the label reading: ‘Whiskey Rose brewery--A Cassidy Venture.’ Rolling down the window, he breaks the top of the bottle like the fucking barbarian he is and downs the bottle. “Whatever, not so starry-eyed anymore,” he snickers to himself, recounting the way his latest victim’s eyes clouded as she lay bleeding on the half-built foundation of the colony’s brewing facility. “As long as the hive lords keep paying, there’s no need for me to ask questions. ‘Sides these colony upstarts need a fucking reality check anyways.” Tossing the bottle out the window and rolling it up, he stops midway and watches through the rear-view mirror as the empty glass bottle collides in the face of one the scouts. The man lets out a high-pitched yelp as he goes tumbling off his motorcycle and is quickly crushed under the wheels of the others. “Hey dipshits look out next time!” he shouts out as he finishes rolling up the window. Without another look back the war chief focuses on the sands in front of him, not bothering to notice the smaller cloud of sand blending in behind the group.
-------------
“C’mon, come on!” Carmine hisses through gritted teeth. He lets go of the wheel, allowing the cruise control to stay on the path towards their target as he checks the chamber of his pistol. Meanwhile, Victor preemptively loads the makeshift crossbow with a tracker bolt, and Devin pulls back the bolt of the machine gun and begins assessing priority targets. “Devin!”
“Yeh chief? Devin answers back.
“I want a spotter report before we get any closer!”
“On it buddy!” With that, Devin pulls out a periscope and uses it to peek over without exposing himself from the safety of the gunner’s nest confines. He catches a glimpse of some poor bastard falling out into the desert sands and promptly being turned into a fine human pâté under the wheels of his fellow raiders. Devin winces at the sight but then smiles rather smugly. “Well, that’s one to scratch off the list. Fucker probably deserved it,” he mutters to himself. “Oi Carmine good news!”
“What is it?”
“Is god gonna smite them for us?” Victor interjects.
Devin shakes his head for no one to see. “Nah, I fucking wish. We were going to be dealing with eight scouts, six technicals, and king mong over there. However, it seems that we can scratch off a scout, cause the dumbass somehow managed to fall off his bike.”
Victor sucks air through his teeth at the news. “Bitch got smeared across the sand by his own buddies. Sucks to be that loser.”
Carmine snorts and chuckles to himself. “Bitch deserved it. Hey Devin, soon as a bunch of them group up give ‘em a taste of the beans. Save the actual HE round for king doitch bag over there.”
“Got it.” There’s a pregnant pause between all three of them as they see three of the scouts and a technical start slowing down from the main group and approaching them. “Oh shit, here comes a gaggle of them now.” Wordlessly, the trio goes to meet them, each of them readying themselves for the fight ahead. “Hey, Carmine, blast the radio; It’ll make us aim better.”
“Whose playlist is on right now?”
Victor rolls down the window and props himself out with his assault rifle at the ready. “Don’t know. It’s either yours, Devin’s, or any one of our granddad’s playlist. We all know that all your grandad listened to was ‘fortunate son’!”
“Oh, fuck off Victor!”
“The joke will never die! Besides, at least your grandad was different. Devin and my grandpa were practically the same person, they even had an on-going list on all the same ideas they had and even the same things they said... Well, what are you waiting for? Play that shit!” Victor shouts over the wind rushing past.
“They were brothers all the same, just as we are now!” Carmine shouts back. “Alright, playing that shit!” Carmine jams a finger into one of the old, faded buttons of the decrepit radio. It takes a moment before it comes to life. The static fading away until suddenly crisp, clear, energetic music starts blasting from the speakers, and the trio are greeted with the steady beat of a tambourine. “Fuck! Could be any one of ours!” Carmine shouts over as a guitar joins in on the fun, followed by drums hot on its tail.
​

All the old paintings on the tombs
They do the sand dance don’t you know?
If they move too quick. (Oh Whey oh!)

​
“Bitching!” Devin shouts, loading in one of the makeshift rounds for the grenade launcher.
-------------
Three scouts, having watched one of their own get crushed under the wheels of their fellow Rust Fiendz, group up together and begin to slow down to lag behind the rest of the pack, not wanting to take the chance of watering the sand in their own blood and viscera due to others’ disregard of life.
“Hey!” One of them shouts, getting the attention of the others. “Who the hell are those jobbers tailing us?”
“’ow the fack should I know?” One of them barks back.
“Well figure it the fuck out because they don’t look like one of ours. Their ride looks too clean and purdy to be one of us. You!” He points to the third, “Go flag one of the more sober guys up there and tell him to back us up.”
“Wait. What the hell why me dipshit?!” He protests.
“Because I said so fuckwad. Unless you want to be fly food smeared across the sand, I suggest you do it.” The third scout relents and goes to one of the technicals up ahead to request help. “Good, we have a new pecking order established now.”
The second scout looks at the self-appointed head incredulously. “The ‘ell there is! I never ‘oted yew to be boss of the scouts!”
“Your fault for not stepping up. Now shut up. From what happened up ahead I don’t think the boss wants anyone bothering him and those party crashers are getting closer. Get ready and bitch boy and motor cuck are coming over to back us up.” The self-appointed head turns around heads off for the armored car coming up on their rear.
“Mutha fucka!” the second bitterly swears. “The ‘ell is that music anyways?”
-------------
Devin stands up and positions himself over the gunner’s nest, eagerly bobbing his head along with the music as he leads the shot on the approaching raiders. Carmine for his part begins steadily speeding up to meet them.
“I’m gonna show these fuckers what real desert heat is!” Victor excitedly shouts over the music. He racks the bolt on the assault rifle and begins taking aim himself.
​

All the bazaar men by the Nile
They got the money on a bet
Gold crocodiles (Oh whey oh)
They snap their teeth on your cigarette.

​
The music starts ramping up now as Carmine floors the gas causing the RPM to sharply rise to the redline and all the men begin harmonizing with music.
​

Foreign types with the hookah pipes say

​
“WHHHEEYYY OOHHH WHHEEY OH, AAAYYY OOHH WHHEEYY OOHH!” They sing together.
​

Walk like an Egyptian...

​
And like that the music dies down for a moment leaving only the strumming of the electric guitar and the methodical shaking of the tambourines. Everyone holds their breath while they focus on the four hostiles coming at them head on. Each one of the men’s eyes dilating like a cat’s, just waiting for the moment to pounce.
...
...
“Closer.” All that’s left is the tambourine, it’s rhythm in sync with the beating of their hearts in their eardrums.
...
...
“Closer.” They all think to themselves, their adrenaline and testosterone building up in anticipation. The guitars make their presence known drowning out the noisy racket of the raiders. Tensions continue to rise until suddenly!
Dun dododo dun dun
Dun dododo dun DUN
DUN DODODO DUN *THOONK\*
Devin fires the grenade launcher, and shots begin to ring out alongside the strums of the guitar. As if on cue, the singer returns, her voice coming in right on time as the bean can explodes, sending bits of tin and whatever else they could stuff in there as makeshift shrapnel, taking out the scouts and flipping over the technical on its side like a wounded ox.
​

The blonde waitresses take their trays
They spin around and they cross the floor
They’ve got the moves! (OOHHH WHHEEEYY OOHHH!)
You drop your drink, then they bring you more!

​
-------------
The sudden shots and the explosion bring the rest of the raiders out of their revelry as each and every one of them sobers up and checks their rear-view mirrors. They watch in surprise as one of their own is flipped onto its side by an unknown assailant. None of them are able to get a good look until the cloud of smoke passes and an armored car in better conditions than theirs rides up to the flipped technical and throws a firebomb onto it, followed by a staccato of gunfire from someone leaning out the passenger side window with nonsensical music playing.
You drop your drink, then they bring you more!
(That drink being the firebomb that was force fed into that poor fucker.)
There is a collective moment of “Oh Shit” between the Rust Fiendz as the single communal braincell bounces in out of the skulls of all the members. Some of them panic, while the drunker ones, angered by this party crasher, make a sloppy U-turn and go to face this suicidal nimrod head-on.
-------------
Carmine pounds the wheel and shouts, “FUCK YEAH GUYS! GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE!”
“Hell yeah brother!” Victor shouts, all the while Devin begins cackling like a madman over the destruction they had caused. Devin’s cackling is quickly cut short as he hears the pained groans of a poor, unfortunate scout that was badly maimed by the dollar store dumpster frag. Nonchalantly, he brings out his carbine and double taps the raider for good measure and goes back to cackling.
​

All the kids so sick of books
They like the punk and the metal band

​
A honk from the horn cuts Devin and Victor’s celebration short as they see two more technicals and the last of the scouts coming their way.
​

When the buzzer rings (OOHH WWHHEEYY OOHH!)
They’re walking like an Egyptian

​
“That’s our cue guys, get ready!” Carmine calls out.
Devin fires another shot of the grenade launcher at the oncoming enemies, but the effect isn’t as spectacular as last time as the makeshift bean can round manages to dent one of the technicals but bounces off the hood and into the sand. “Fuck a dud!” Devin curses.
“Get on the turret and start blasting Devin!”
“Orders received!” Devin ducks back into the safety of the gunner’s nest right on time too as wild and erratic shots ping off of it. Before he can rack the bolt and begin firing, a thunderous blast disorients him and knocks him against the walls as the whole armored car shakes and sand rains down from above him. Drunkenly, he rubs the back of his head but is caught off guard by his helmet getting away. “Da fuckz wah that?” he slurred out.
Victor ducks down as bullets rattle on the hood of the car and junk rounds begin ricocheting off the armored grill covering the windshield, some of them managing to thread the needle and lodge themselves in the damaged bulletproof glass. “An explosion dipshit. Now-,” Victor covers his head and blind fires out the window towards the oncoming raiders. “GET ON THE FUCKING GUN!” he hurriedly shouts.
“Son of a-bitch goddamn mother *rrghh\*” Devin growls. Shaking his head and racking the bolt of the heavily bubba’ed FAL, he grits his teeth and takes aim. As the scouts get closer, they notice the gunner’s nest moving and begin concentrating their fire on the turret and spreading out. The sudden spray of bullets causes Devin to flinch and wince at the sparks and sharp sounds of scrap bullets on metal, but he clenches his jaw and fires an unfocused burst at one of the scouts. Devin’s shots go wide as Carmine begins speeding ahead and whipping the car violently left and right, either to try and ram some of the scouts or to throw off the aim of the technical firing the explosives.
​

All the kids in the marketplace say
(WHEEY OHH WHHEEYYY OOHH, AAYY OH WHEY OH!)
Walk like an Egyptian...

​
The music is abruptly cut off as another explosion rocks the speeding armored car and the radio cuts off. “FUCK DUDE!” Carmine shouts out.
“What. What! WHAT!” Victor rushes out, dipping back in from the passenger window and narrowly avoiding a spray of bullets from a scout coming up on their rear.
Before Carmine could get out a sentence one of the technicals that had been acting as cover for the other slows down and positions itself on Carmine’s side. Several shots ring out and manage to get through the grate that acted as armor for the driver side window. Victor watches on in horror as three heavy *THUNKS\* can be heard following by Carmine groaning and buckling. Carmine’s head slams on the wheel violently and he ends up honking the horn before snapping back up and firing his pistol at the offending technical.
“ASSHOLES!” Carmine curses. “Devin light those fuckers up on our right!” A violent rhythmic roar can be heard above them as Devin sprays the machine gun with extreme discrimination at the flanking technical. The screams of the raiders are drowned out by the gunfire before their vehicle begins to slow down and all noise from the raider’s Humvee ceases, all except a pitiful mechanical sputtering. The spraying resumes as Devin now has a clear shot on the technical that had been launching the explosives at them. The Rusted Sedan tries to bob and weave out of the shots until something explodes in the back and the car cartoonishly bounces on the sand.
“Fuck,” Devin heavily breathes out. Checking the scuffed belt feeding ammunition into the machine gun, he grimaces at the count and shakes his head. “Eighty-four rounds left. Fuck eighty-four rounds left,” he repeats to himself. “Well let’s see if I can’t rat my out of this one!” Cautiously he peeks his head out from the nest and sees two scouts behind the car taking pot shots at the rear-view window. Thankfully Carmine had the foresight to mount his ballistic shield to the back, but how long it’d hold was the question that worried Devin the most. “Hey, Carmine!”
“Urgh! Ah-Y-yeah Devin?”
“I need you to start doing some shit!”
“What kind of shit!” Carmine takes another shot to the side of his enclosed helmet and one to the side of his chest plate, the bullets not getting through but still managing to cause him to flinch and bruise from the force. He snaps his head to the scout, and the scout, now realizing how much she fucked up begins clutching the break of her ATV. Her ATV doesn’t slow down in time as Carmine fires three shots at her. One of the shots goes wide and misses, the second grazes her arm, but the third pierces her throat. She clutches at her throat with one and falls backward, one hand still death gripping the brake, the uneven steering and the violent braking causes the ATV to flip.
“I need you start swerving around and make these bastards on our tail get closer so I can nail them with the last bean can!”
Victor fires another burst taking out a scout that had been harassing the passenger side of the car. Overhearing the conversation, he taps Carmine’s sides and gets his attention. “Or what we could do. Hey Devin, how close are they!”
“They’re pretty close Victor!”
“How close?”
“About mouth to exhaust pipe distance! Why?” The realization dawns on Devin as he ducks back down to avoid the shots and he promptly gets back on the turret and focuses on ahead.
“Okay, thank you!” Turning his attention back to Carmine, Victor says, “Slam the brakes, this is going to be funny.”
“Oh, fuck yeah!” Carmine laughs out. Carmine abruptly slams on the brakes of the car, it takes a moment as the wheels fail to find traction on the sand, but it isn’t too long as a violent crash and shake of the car tells them as much. “Shit, one of them had a brain cell to rub between their fingers.” Luckily fortune was on their side as the sudden jolt from one of the scouts crashing into them managed to jolt the radio back to life. Unfortunately, though, one of the scouts speeds past them.
The trio lets out an elated cry as the music comes back on, but the elation is short lived as a frustrated shout from Devin alerts them to some unfortunate news. “Fuck he’s getting away and the rest of those braindead barbarians are heading into that sandstorm!”
Carmine steps on the gas and starts chasing after him and Victor leans out the window and takes aim with the crossbow. “Yeah, no we don’t do that here,” Victor states matter-of-factly. “Carmine step on it I want to make sure I land this.”
Carmine nods and tightens his grip on the wheel as the RPM hits the redline once more. “Alright hold on!”
The last scout looks behind himself as the sound of death rumbles like an engine getting pushed to its limits. Seeing how quickly the armored car is gaining on him, he hunches over and begins silently praying for mercy. His prayers are cut short as he feels a sharp pain pierce through his lower back, and he begins swerving wildly into the sandstorm, following the taillights and silhouettes of the other technicals as best he can through the storm.
Victor brings out a tracker and begins monitoring the tracker bolt. “And now we follow him through the storm.”
Devin hunkers down and suddenly jolts, a new fun idea pops up in his head. “Hey Carmine, pause the music. We’re going to be making an entrance!”
-------------
In the middle of the sandstorm the Rust Fiendz bicker and panic amongst themselves through their radios.
“Who the fuck were those guys?!”
“How the hell am I supposed to know!”
“Are you retarded! The Hive lords probably had enough of our shit. They sent someone to kill us!”
“We’re all going to di-“
“SHUT THE FUCK YOU WASTERS AND LISTEN HERE!” Their warchief screams over the radio, the sheer volume of causing the sound quality to warp and distort the audio of their poorly maintained radios. “We probably lost those jackasses in the storm by now, just keep driving. Furiosa!” He calls out.
“Furiosa you useless bitch! Answer me!” he angrily shouts again through the radio.
A calm voice, much too calm and collected to be a raider answers him back, “We’re almost out of the storm boss. It won’t be too long now.”
The warchief throws up a hand in exasperation. “Now you fucking answer.”
“Apologies sir, I was focusing.” She replies, her voice showing no hint of emotion.
“Yeah, well next time do it quicker.”
“Yes sir.”
The Rust Fiendz keep a tight formation as they follow Furiosa’s dune buggy as it takes the lead and guides them out of the storm. Once they’re out of the storm, Furiosa circles around and parks next to the Warchief’s pickup truck. Her vehicle compared to the rest of the group is well maintained with only light rusting here and there.
“Wait holy shit! The hell is that coming at us!” One of the raiders shout out over the radio.
Everyone draws their respective firearms and aims it at the red blinking light coming at them from the depths of the sandstorm. The air is suffocating now as the red gets closer and closer; it’s blinking becoming more rapid and it’s light brighter and brighter. All of them tense up as they hear an engine’s rumble get closer until suddenly something bursts out from the storm and everyone begins indiscriminately blasting at whatever had made the mistake of fucking with their crew.
The gun fire and shooting lasts for a good solid minute, the bullets kicking up sand, the muzzle flash lights the midnight sky and the smoke obscures everyone’s vision. Eventually the shots die down and so does the smoke revealing.
“H-Holy fuck!”
“You GODDAMN IDIOTS!” The Warchief shouts as everyone takes a good look at the swiss-cheesed remains of the last scout and the unidentifiable heap of scrap that was his vehicle. Before the Warchief could shout anymore abuse and obscenities at his band of idiots and jackasses.
Furiosa, the only competent member, says something over the radio. “Listen!” Everyone stops what they’re doing and does as she says. They listen intently and all they can hear is the rumble of their engines, the howling sandstorm and...
“Whistling?”
The whistling is distant, but overtime it gets louder and louder until they also hear the sounds of-
“Are those fucking guitars?”
“I hear a rattle...”
​

Slide your feet up the street, bend your back

​
“Is that singing?”
​

Shift your arm then you pull it back

​
Everyone’s collective blood runs cold as the familiar tune starts playing through the sandstorm and the sound of an engine gets louder and louder.
Life is hard don’t you know
And then once more silence.
...
...
...
“The fuck did it-“
For once in the Rust Fiendz collective lives, they did something in unison. They screamed as an armored car with people shouting-
​

"OOOOHHH WWHHHEEYYY OOOHHH!"

​
Landed on and crushed the occupants of a Cadillac, scratching another off their list of technicals.
​

SO STRIKE A POSE ON A CADILLAC

​

Chapter 6:
IN AN ESCAPE POD WONDERING IF THIS TRULY IS THE LAST
^{静けさが追いつめる}

“OH BY THE COMMON GOOD WHY! WHY! WHY!?” Cried Akali as one of the buttons he pressed only caused the escape pod to accelerate even faster. He clutched the sides of his head and began pacing in circles.
​
“How do I always get myself into these sorts of situations?!” he desperately shouted his hands grasping at the air, helplessly reaching out for something that wasn’t. He asked the question over and over again, but his desperate cries were answered only by the deafening roar of the escape pods thruster as it hurtled through space.

The escape pod blared.
“W-what is it now!” Quickly Akali rushed over to the main console of the escape pod to see what else the universe wanted to add to his woes. His eyes widened and all the feathers on his cobra-like hood flared out, a primordial fight or flight response to scare off predators or to make oneself blend better with shrubs and bushes to ambush prey. However, this response would do nothing as he couldn’t scare a console, nor were there any bushes to hide in from the decrepit satellites.



And like that hope was reignited in Akali as he frantically reached for the glove compartment, his hands fumbling the latch to open it. Each time it did his heart rate would spike until. “YES FINALLY!” He triumphantly shouted as he opened up the glove compartment. Instantly he looked down and all that met him was a pocket of darkness as black as the void around him as the glove compartment was empty. Save for a hastily written note that read.
The User Manual is currently being inspected by Health and Safety Specialist: Orza T’igalma. Please DO NOT use the Escape pod during this inspection period.
~Yours truly Cleaning and Maintenance Specialist ‘Gumpy’
P.S. Stop calling me a Janitor. I am a Cleaning and Maintenance Specialist dammit!
The light in Akali’s eyes faded out upon reading the note. His mind shutting off completely, tuning out the rattling and occasional impact that shook the escape pod as it barreled through the halo of space debris and satellites that surrounded the dead planet that the escape pod was on a hell-bent collision course towards. However, his mind was able to think of one thing; the crewmember he had encountered during his rush to get to his uncle, the various signs that got knocked out during his collision with said crewmember, and even the janitor’s scrubs that the crewmember wore. Then the pieces started fitting together; and he realized that one of those signs looked oddly like the one used for escape pods back on the station he was previously on.
The feathers on his hood spiked up as he let out a primal screech, “LORD GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE SO THAT I CAN MURDER THAT MANGY LO’HAAANNN!!”
-------------
Meanwhile on the Great Endeavor.
Several members of The Great Endeavor’s security team rushed to the escape pods; the order had just been given. It was a ‘Centauri protocol’ which called for the security team’s best equipment and their best members.
“What in Hel’s embrace?” One of the Vicaik members exclaimed.
“What?” One of them asked.
“Where the Hel are the signs?”
“What signs?”
“The signs.” The Vicaik stated again, pointing at the empty mounts and missing placards. The other members began looking around and sure enough, the signs were gone.
“It shouldn’t even matter. We know where they are,” One of the members said dismissively.
“I know that, but isn’t the captain’s nephew new?”
One of the crewmembers pauses at this and strokes their chin at the observation. “By about... a little less than a week why?”
...
...
The Vicaik slaps a heavy paw to their forehead. “Shit, that explains it!” He exclaims.
“Explains what?”
“He probably didn’t even memorize the layout! Also, that janitor probably screwed up some of the electrical systems while cleaning and probably shorted out some of the signs.”
“And?”
“You know what he always does. He always takes the damn signs to electrical to ‘have them fixed’. Before the Vicaik can elaborate more on the topic, an alert on their PDA’s draws their attention.

​
A.N: Hope you guys liked this chapter.
Also, Question: Should I make the chapters their own separate posts or should I keep doing what I'm doing now? Any other feedback, critiques, or criticisms are very much welcome.

In part 1, we examine some of the dialogue that happens in the first four seasons. By the time we get to season 3, we have in fact eliminated any theories in which Red is not one of Liz's parents, because Red admits to Kirk Liz is indeed his daughter, and not having raised her, it eliminates this is a adoptive or step parent situation, a parental without necessarily meaning biological connection. Red is one of Liz's parents, either Katarina or Raymond Reddington. The same exact spot we continue to spin in season 8, when Townsend tells us as much. He can replicate for Red the effect of losing his family by killing Liz in front of him.
You can read an extended analysis of the link of the Hobson's choice, the suicide speech and Rederina here.
We will examine seasons 5 and leave seasons 6, 7 and 8 for a third part because season 5 is pivotal and the analysis is a long one.
Season 5: Them Damn Bones!
The bones are the cornerstone of everything that follows, for is the foundation that Red is not the Reddington from before 1990 when he disappeared. Remember that we have never been shown a dead Reddington, or even a fresh dug grave. Nachalo gets us to a wounded Reddington in the car, nothing further. It is said by Katarina and Ilya, but we have no visual confirmation.
Red saying he had a prior identity does not solve much, per se, because one thing we know is that the man known to the US Navy as Raymond Reddington, does not seem to exist under that name until the Naval Academy.
Remember that Liz, obsessed with blood relatives, and with the resources of the FBI to find all sorts of records (birth, death, marriages, college, voting, taxes, military records, financial, name change, etc.) is surprised when she thinks Ressler found her paternal grandfather. It seems both our "new" Reddington and the "old" Reddington had a prior identity.
We will spend some time in the bones, for they are pivotal. This season sets up everything that follows.
Let us begin by identifying key moments:

1. Kate dig the bones, tells Red about it, gets Tom to pick them up, and does not add any identification clue to them. Attaches a tag so they are directed to Liz.
2. Tom picks up the bones and decides to find out the identity before giving them to her, getting Nik to help. Nik gets Pete who extracts DNA from a tooth and breaks into CODIS using Liz's id. The bones return an ID, and Garvey is notified of the match.
3. Garvey gets the bones, gets Tom, Pete and Lena, and eventually kills Tom via his goons and leaves Liz in a coma.
4. Red get the bones, but not before Liz manages to find Jennifer by following Garvey. Garvey died, shot by Liz and Dembe.
5. Garvey had given the bones to Jennifer and involves someone who had a grudge with Reddington for an issue in 1989, Sutton Ross. (For this part, think about the logic of it, if the man Ross had the issue with has been dead long enough to be a bag of bones).
6. Jennifer, aided by Ross, shows Liz the bones in a charade. (For this one please remember that Jennifer knew where Liz lived, and yet, that is how she chose to show Liz. As for entrapping Red, Liz would have happily done so, without the theatrics.)

Let us begin by point # 5, which comes in 5.22, because it goes to the crux of the matter. The involvement of Sutton Ross by Ian Garvey. Let us think about this matter carefully:
Ross has a grudge with Reddington, because he believes that in 1989 Reddington had tricked him into stealing bad plans for the Chinese. Garvey helped him faked his death.
Garvey knows the identification of the bones, and by then, so would Ross. Why would Garvey involve Ross to get his revenge, if both men KNOW that the man who tricked Ross has been dead for a very long time?
Raymond Reddington was an officer with the US Navy Counterintelligence, not a traveling vacuum salesman, so the idea that anyone would supplant him without anyone noticing is poppycock.
Therefore, the Reddington who Ross blames for his mishap is the same Reddington who disappeared a year later, in 1990, the so-called, original or real Raymond Reddington.

In the '80s, when a company or a country wanted to steal R&D rather than develop it, Ross and his team stole it for them.
Didn't he steal R&D on a stealth fighter for China?
A defective stealth fighter called the Grayscape Seventeen. The Navy knew Ross was working for China, so they made sure he stole plans for a plane that couldn't fly, and when it crashed, China blamed Ross, turned him over to the feds, who issued an arrest warrant, and Ross disappeared.

"Let's start with this DNA report. For 30 years, I've wanted to be in the same room as Raymond Reddington, the bastard who tricked me into selling the Chinese a dodo bird when they were looking for an eagle. And here we are. So, the DNA report tell me what it means. ... The only guarantee you have is that, if you don't tell me, she will die. Of course, perhaps you don't care about that. Perhaps her life isn't worth your revealing your precious secret for. After all, what is she to you, really? "
Let us re-write this if Ross knows for certain Red is someone other than the man who arrange the Grayscape 17 charade:

Let's start with this DNA report. For 30 years, I've wanted to be in the same room as Raymond Reddington, the bastard who tricked me into selling the Chinese a dodo bird when they were looking for an eagle. And here we are, it turns out he has been dead for a very long time, which I found out when I got the report, and means I will never get any revenge on the perp, and you are an idiot for taking the name of a traitor. So tell me what the report means be cause I am curious to know how Raymond Reddington died?
The only guarantee you have is that, if you don't tell me, she will die. Of course, perhaps you don't care about that. Perhaps her life isn't worth your revealing your precious secret for. After all, what is she to you, really? Because she is not your daughter, because you are not Raymond Reddington, who Jennifer told me was Liz's father.

Was Sutton Ross licking hallucinogenic toads? What possible good may it do to him, other than getting him killed to learn whatever about the report? It supposedly is self explanatory: Reddington is dead and this man is someone else. But clearly, this makes no sense. The fact Sutton was involved is because he too had a grudge against Reddington, like Jennifer and Garvey had.
Clearly this incident dates to the 1980, Ross's 30 years places it in 1989.
Is there something else confirming that Garvey does indeed believe the bones are not of Raymond Reddington? Yes. When Garvey finally learns what is the connection between Red and Liz, this is what he says:
"Reddington's (RED) her father.... Now I get it. Reddington (RED) and your husband (TOM), how they knew each other. Reddington (RED) didn't know you (LIZ) through him (TOM). He knew him (TOM) through you (LIZ)."
Garvey is saying the man who is alive, and the father of Liz and Jennifer is one and the same, not the bones in the bag. That is why he wants the whole truth, because if the secret is that Reddington is an imposter, what else would Garvey want to know?
Let us write it if we believe Red is an impostor and not the same man who fathered Liz:

Reddington's (DEAD MAN IN BAG) her father.... Now I get it. Reddington (DEAD MAN IN BAG) and your husband, how they knew each other. Reddington (DEAD MAN IN BAG) didn't know you through him. He knew him through you.

Consider too what Dembe tells Red:
"Ross wants blood. He (ROSS) thinks you (RED) ruined his life."
"But he (ROSS) thinks you (RED) did, and because of that, he wants to world to know what's inside the duffel. (A SECRET RED DOES NOT WANT OUT)
It does not matter what Red did or did not, if he gave Ross the plans, or facilitated the exchange, or if he was not responsible at all. What matters is what Dembe knows (who is the bag's identity), and what Ross knows (who is in the bag) and wants, which is revenge for the charade on the person he holds responsible, who is the man calling himself Reddington in 1989.
Those lines make no sense whatsoever, for anything other than the bones would not be the original or real Reddington.
Ross wants blood. He thinks you (RED) ruined his life. BUT IF Ross has the bones then Ross knows Red is not the man who tricked him, or sold him, or gave him those blueprints.
But he thinks you (RED) did, and because of that, he wants to world to know what's inside the duffel. (The bones of the man who DID set him up, or at least who Ross thinks did, which begs the question, why on earth would he then think Red ruined his life. At most, he is an idiot for taking that name.
​
Let us move now to point #3, which involves what Garvey says about the bones to Tom and what Red himself discusses with Dembe and Smokey about them, namely, the value of the bones:
"You know, all this time I've given you to think has prompted me to do some thinking of my own. And, uh I got to tell you, I'm stumped. When you consider all the people on the planet who would be interested in the contents of that case and you multiply that number by an even greater number of unspeakable things those people would do to get it, how the hell could it end up in the hands of a little pissant like you?"
and:

RED: We came all this way to find the duffel has been handed from one enemy of mine to another.
DEMBE: And yet, neither chose to make its contents public.
SMOKEY: If what you're looking for is as valuable as you say, why why why why didn't they put it up for auction?
RED: I have no idea.

Exactly what would be lost to Red if the world knew he is NOT Raymond Reddington, but an impostor who much like Gregory Devry, took the name for reasons unknown?
Red's value, his empire, is based on his contacts, decades of being the concierge of crime, of brokering deals, finding information. Who he was is irrelevant. And remember that, for the Rederina lens, knowing he is not Reddington does not equate to knowing he is Katarina. The name Reddington had no intrinsic value, for all Reddington was in 1990 when he disappeared, and then in 1991 was a two bit traitor.
For all Nachalo was trying to sell us different goods, Nachalo's Raymond Reddington had not much value per se. He was an imbecile incapable of suspecting a beautiful Russian woman, one who could move freely in the West without being followed by a cadre of KGB agents so she will not defect, was not a KGB agent herself.
Then let us move to the matter of the identification. Red is certain that whoever has them, will come to him, will be able to identify them, and once done, there is no more questions to be had:

GARVEY: Let's start with the truth.
RED: You have the bones. You already know the truth.
GARVEY: A truth. I want the whole truth.

In season 3 we had learned that Reddington's DNA was not in any DNA identification database.

Who is this guy? - He claims he's Reddington?
Yes, and we can't disprove it with DNA because there's nothing on file from 1990 when Reddington disappeared.

He is identified by fingerprints alone in the pilot of the series.
And yet, in season 5, for the Rederina theory, we are meant to believe that somehow DNA from Raymond Reddington has magically appeared in CODIS, and Ian Garvey, US Marshall attached to Carla and Jennifer Reddington has been advised a match has been made.
We have three options. First, the DNA was a direct match and the plot makes no sense, nothing new there.
Second, the DNA is from Jennifer Reddington. But that is nonsensical, for upon learning that Jennifer's genitor is a skeleton, nobody would think that the man using the name of her legal father is an impostor, but would think instead that her mother was certainly having fun when Reddington was in Russia, and her husband, having found out about the hanky panky, had dispatched the man. A story of sex, betrayal, murder and paternity, but not of identity.
And the third option is that the DNA match was not of Reddington. Valuable bones as proof of death? In this case, it means that the report shown to Liz by Jennifer was a fake. Her little revenge for Garvey's death.
So, to believe that the DNA is indeed Reddington's we have to accept that the creator and writers were too lazy or too stupid to even add a line of how was the DNA added when they had made a point to tell us that it was not there in 2015.
Totally possible, especially in light of season 8B starting with the supremely stupid The Russian Knot, ending in the dumpster fire and the Toxic Fumes, TM by u/Anselmo213, followed by insipid season 9 and filler season 10, still ongoing.
​
Now let us focus on the exhumation of the bones, Kate's motives and actions. The bones is the last step in a long battle in which Kate took Red's money, sent his associates to jail, exposed his part in the Von Hauser death, and got the Apothecary to design a poison that would have suffocated Red slowly. She was doing all this, not to save Liz, whom she believed was past salvation, because she always had chosen Red over the truth, but to save Agnes.
The interesting thing, is that when she digs them, she touches the carved K on a tree with respect, and apologizes to Katarina. If Kate indeed would know Red is Katarina, in what universe does that action make any sense, especially when the bones are supposed to be those of a man she hated, when she has already poisoned Rederina to die slowly of suffocation!
Her attitude would make sense if she believed she had dug the bones of Katarina, thus ending the danger to Liz because with her mother dead, there is no using Liz as bait.
Kate dug the bones, even though she was going to testify. Without as much as a hint of their identity, attached a tag with Liz's name and address, and tasked Tom, never good for following orders, to give them to Liz. Consider Kate may have had one of her people do so without incurring in any mishaps, the choice of Tom seems designed to get him killed, particularly when she took pains to alert Red the bones were out and in route to Liz, and called the person delivering them her ally.
Let us get to the issue of what Dembe and Red discuss, when they go check the suitcase location and find it gone. The night before, unbeknown to Kate who had died earlier, Liz gets a test that proves that Raymond Reddington, from a sample from an old case before he disappeared, was Liz's father. She had confronted Red.
The non-denial that also happened in 4.22 should not be news:

DEMBE: You didn't deny it.
RED: I didn't.
DEMBE: And she thinks that's Kate's secret?

For Rederina and Third Man this is not an issue. He is not her father, because in one case he is her mother, and in the other he is unrelated, although his confession to Kirk, and Townsend's word make this impossible. But let us go to the first time he has denied it, which was in season 1, when Liz asks him directly, and obviously does not believe the answer.
Red had suffocated Sam (possibly at Sam's request to kill him swiftly) after promising the man who had been a father to Liz that Sam will always be her father, something only a biological father has any right to do. Not even a mother can do so, especially considering Sam WAS Liz's father, and especially true in the Rederina case, for Katarina had been responsible for what happened to Reddington, by targeting him, then babbling to the cabal about a fulcrum, then hiding his death and taking his gender and identity.
"You will always be her father, Sam. I can only hope that I can love her and protect her as you have."
Having given this promise on a deathbed to Sam, Red cannot ever say again he is Liz's father. He can say Liz is his daughter, for that shifts the onus to Liz. But Sam is her father.
This line, interpreted from the Rederina standpoint, is especially despicable. She got her father killed, had deceived her husband the child was his, told the cabal's Fitch who Liz's father was, then hid his death, had Ivan steal information from the KGB, so she will have even more enemies, made Liz's father as a traitor, assume the gender and identity, proceeded to abandon Liz, then killed the man who had actually been Liz's only parent, lied to Liz about her mother being dead by suicide, and her father who was a criminal had abandoned her, then directed her life from afar, like a puppet, and then, instead of letting her kill him and be done with it, insist they make up, then she kills him via emotional blackmail.
What right did Rederina have of assuming the man who had been Liz's only parent, that he had no intention of supplanting Sam as a father? WTF?
Then all in relationship to those bones this is what Dembe says:
"Raymond I'm not sure Elizabeth will ever be ready to learn about what you did to Katarina."
For the two theories that are not Rederina, this presents no problem. Red did something TO Katarina. Betrayed her, hurt her some way, kill her, whatever. But the phrasing of it, however, does presents a lot of issues for Rederina.
It implies that gender change was not done willingly, but was a last resort.
It is disquieting, even though we had already established in Cape May that according to the Rederina lens, in the Hobson's choice, Red describes his actions to save Liz and let the woman go as the worst he has done. Now Dembe seems to do the same, by implying the gender change was done unwillingly, yet Nachalo does not seem to have any of it. Katarina describes the "new Reddington" as someone useful, but has no hint of a tremendous sacrifice, the worst thing done.
It disassociates Rederina from Katarina, and implies some wrongdoing in what happened to her "what you did to her".
For the non-Rederina camps, it seems that the bones are somehow related to Katarina. They are something Red did TO her. Considering he later takes the bones to burn at Dom's that seems to be supported. This is supported as well by Kate's actions when she dug her, the carved "K" on the tree, and the loving attention to place them not in a trash bag, but on a suitcase.
Red told also both Liz and Tom that the bones were none of their business, which would certainly be a lie if they were the bones of either parent of Liz.
TO TOM: This is a secret, not a lie.
TO LIZ: I won't tell you something that's none of your business. It was none of Tom's business.
​
Finally we have to examine the role played by Jennifer Reddington AKA Lilly Roth (point #6), who is who briefly shows Liz a report that has Liz believe the bones are those of their father. A report that has not been seen or confirmed by anyone else, for the envelope Tom saw was not the same as the one Liz saw. Possibly a Prop Department's laziness or a clue. Right now who would know?

Red meets with Jennifer

One encounter which is truly remarkable if we want to analyze what Rederina does to the story is the encounter between Red and Jennifer. Red had maintained Jennifer under surveillance, since the bar shootout. She wants answers, and he wants the bones. So they meet. We do not know if she knows the report by then, and she is certainly not afraid of Red at all. She will lead Red to a cementery where her mother is buried as Naomi Hyland, dead the same year the bones were exhumed by Kate, 2017, 2 years prior to this moment.
So Red is telling Jennifer what HE thinks Jennifer wants to know, why was she abandoned.
We will examine this conversation in light of all possible situations, because either the writers were being extremely dishonest, or Jennifer is certainly speaking ambiguously:

RED: Put where the Cabal wouldn't find you.
JENNIFER: Or my father. (implying she may know already Red is not her father because he is an impostor)

but then JENNIFER: "After you left, we went into Witness Protection."
So, Jennifer, just like Kate seems to know both that the man there is her father and know he is an impostor. Dishonest writing especially if an unambiguous answer is never one we are meant to have and they were lying for 10 years saying they knew what the answer was and so would we at the end.

OPTION 1: Let us examine the conversation if we think Jennifer already knows the man talking to her is an impostor and assuming REDERINA:

REDERINA: "In 1990, the KGB and the CIA had almost nothing in common except the mutual determination to hunt down one individual."
That would be KATARINA ROSTOVA, the person talking to Jennifer. Well that is absolutely true for Rederina. Katarina was indeed being chased by both the Americans and the Russians. IN HIS INSTANCE REDERINA IS BEING HONEST with Jennifer
JENNIFER: "You".
THAT WOULD IMPLY THAT JENNIFER KNOWS HE IS KATARINA, for her father was not being chased by neither one.
REDERINA: "Being a fugitive from American law enforcement is a lot easier than being a fugitive from the two most powerful nations on Earth. And anyone close to a target of theirs becomes a target themselves."
So, Rederina is telling Jennifer that he became Reddington because it was easier to evade the FBI than the CIA and the KGB. Seems unusually open, but considering Cape may underr the Rederina interpretation tells us Katarina became Rederina because she had no choice, the Hobson's choice, the hardest thing he had done, equating it to suicide, Rederina is then telling Jennifer that he did all this simply to protect her family, which in this case is simply Liz, not her (Jennifer) or her mother (Carla).
JENNIFER: "Family."
REDERINA: "Especially family."
A confirmation then that with her father dead, Rederina seek to protect Katarina's family, Liz, for Jennifer is nothing to Rederina. Rederina tells Jennifer then all was done to protect Liz. Except for what follows:
REDERINA: "Unless they're abandoned on the side of a road on Christmas Eve."
WAIT. WHAT? Rederina is now telling Jennifer that her father's disappearance was due to his having abandoned HIS family, Jennifer and his wife, Carla, because he wanted to protect them? According to Nachalo he had just taken the fulcrum he had created by himself, taken his love child without so much as a goodbye to his wife, and holed up in that secret location, the family Summer house, to wait for Katarina (the human being telling this line), to show up for both her child and the fulcrum? Carla never said anything about a fire, only that he had never shown up, and they were waiting for him for Christmas? So now Rederina is adding that cruelty to Jennifer who already knows this man in front of him is not her father.
And here is were things get really weird.
JENNIFER: "After you left, we went into Witness Protection."
WTF? Supposedly in this scenario, because of what she says below "Or my father" Jennifer knows the man in from of her is not her father. So why is she then referring to Red as she would her father who LEFT THEM. So, does she knows her father is long dead, or does she not?
REDERINA: Put where the Cabal wouldn't find you.
JENNIFER: Or my father.
Well, if Rederina had not told Fitch who Liz's father was, and that he did have proof against the cabal, proof she failed to find THEN hid the death of Reddington all to make him into a traitor, then to assume his identity to protect Liz, Jennifer and Carla would be mourning the death of a stupid man who could not keep it in his pants, or figure out a Russian woman interested in the sap was not a KGB spy, but supposedly he just said the whole WITSEC was about protecting them from the cabal. WTF? I mean, W.T.F.?
REDERINA: An effective, albeit excruciatingly painful solution.
WHAT? Why would hiding Carla and Jennifer would be excruciating to him? Rederina chose to do all those stupid things supposedly to protect Liz and Carla and Jennifer, So why would all be painful? Especially after all that BS about having no choice in Cape May. How could ANY of this make any sense?
Effective?
You survived, as did your mother, to whom I hope you are now willing to take me.
Well then.
OPTION 2: Jennifer already KNOWS the man talking to her is NOT her father, he is an impostor.
IMPOSTOR RED: "In 1990, the KGB and the CIA had almost nothing in common except the mutual determination to hunt down one individual."
Katarina was indeed being chased by both the Americans and the Russians. So IMPOSTOR RED is being truthful that the origin of this mess is that Katarina was being chased by everyone she had betrayed.
JENNIFER: "You".
Since her father was not chased by anyone NOT the cabal, then she is just mistaken, or she assumes this impostor was just trying to save his own ass.
IMPOSTOR RED: "Being a fugitive from American law enforcement is a lot easier than being a fugitive from the two most powerful nations on Earth.
So, he is telling Jennifer that he became Reddington because it was easier to evade the FBI than it was for the person chased by the CIA and the KGB. Basically because Katarina was being chased, this man assumed the identity of Reddington because it was easier for him to do so than it was for Katarina to evade them, so there MUST be a connection between making Red a criminal, and her hiding which Nachalo told us that inventing a new criminal Reddington was useful, even though the stolen KGB information was the seed, which makes no sense.

IMPOSTOR RED: And anyone close to a target of theirs becomes a target themselves."
JENNIFER: "Family."
IMPOSTOR RED: "Especially family."

But then this is just peachy. So, this charade was done to protect the family of Rostova, basically Liz and Dom, as well as her understanding mother, happily gallivanting since 1991 eating burgers instead of borsch.
BUT here is the weird part:
IMPOSTOR RED: "Unless they're abandoned on the side of a road on Christmas Eve."
THIS IS PURE NONSENSE. Impostor Red is now telling Jennifer that her father's disappearance was due to his having abandoned HIS family, Jennifer and his wife, Carla, because REAL REDDINGTON wanted to protect them?
According to Nachalo REAL REDDINGTON had just taken the fulcrum he had created by himself, taken his love child without so much as a goodbye to his wife, and holed up in that secret location, the family Summer house, to wait for Katarina to show up for both her child and the fulcrum? Carla never said anything about a fire, only that he had never shown up, and they were waiting for him for Christmas? So, basically, Carla, KNOWING her husband was dead, had invented this disappearance story in order to get herself and her child to hiding, being an accomplice with Katarina, who had created the fake evidence, and using it herself to get herself and Jennifer in WITSEC?
And here is were things get really weird.
JENNIFER: "After you left, we went into Witness Protection."
WTF? Supposedly in this scenario, because of what she says below "Or my father" Jennifer knows the man in from of her is not her father. So why is she then referring to Red as she would her father who LEFT THEM. Suppsaoely she knows her father is long dead. Dishonest writing, bad writing or clue?

IMPOSTOR RED: Put where the Cabal wouldn't find you.
JENNIFER: Or my father.

So this whole scheme about Reddington being a traitor was a stratagem concocted by this impostor and Reddington's wife to protect both Carla and Jennifer?

IMPOSTOR RED: An effective, albeit excruciatingly painful solution.
JENNIFER: Effective?
IMPOSTOR RED: You survived, as did your mother, to whom I hope you are now willing to take me.

WTF? Why would an impostor who did not give a rat's ass about Carla or Jennifer give two hoots about being separated from them? Because it cannot be about his becoming Reddington, because apparently he did so willingly because Katarina was being chased by the KGB and the CIA.
It is a massive contradiction which only makes sense at train speed, but which cannot withstand a logical examination, just as the Rederina option was. Nonsense. Poppycock.

OPTION 3: Jennifer thinks she is talking to her father, and Red is acting like he is her father Reddington (term used in a broad manner, not necessarily a genitor).

RED: "In 1990, the KGB and the CIA had almost nothing in common except the mutual determination to hunt down one individual." (that would be Rostova, for Katarina was indeed being chased by both the Americans and the Russians. In here, Red can ONLY be telling Jennifer that Katarina was being chased by both, for we know Reddington was not.)
JENNIFER: "You". (In this case, Jennifer is mistaken, and since we do not see Red's reaction wether he nods or shakes his head in denial, he must have denied non-verbally.)
RED: "Being a fugitive from American law enforcement is a lot easier than being a fugitive from the two most powerful nations on Earth.
Red is telling Jennifer that because it was easier for him to become a fugitive from the FBI than it was for Katarina Rostova to evade the CIA and the KGB.
RED: "And anyone close to a target of theirs becomes a target themselves."
So, here Red is saying that when it came to the KGB and the CIA, they would go after the family. So, any relative of that person, who we know to be Katarina Rostova would be a target.
So far, Red has told Jennifer that in 1990, one person had been chased by the KGB and the CIA, and because that person's family would be in danger, he became a fugitive from the FBI because it was easier for him to evade the FBI than it was for that person, who we know to be Katarina, to evade the CIA and the FBI, to protect HER family.
JENNIFER: "Family."
RED: "Especially family."
So, confirming here that it is done to protect the family of THAT person, chased by the KGB and the CIA. Rostova not Reddington.
RED: "Unless they're abandoned on the side of a road on Christmas Eve."
Now he is saying that the official story of the disappearance of Raymond Reddington, that he disappeared on his way to see her and her mother on Christmas Eve, was done to protect her and her mother, while he had already said that the disappearance of her father was because it was easier to become a criminal chased by the FBI than it was for Rostova and her family to disappear and be safe from the KGB and the CIA.
According to Nachalo Reddington had just taken the fulcrum he had created by himself, taken his love child without so much as a goodbye to his wife, and holed up in that secret location, the family Summer house, to wait for Katarina to show up for both her child and the fulcrum?
Carla never said anything about a fire, only that he had never shown up, and they were waiting for him for Christmas? So, according to what Red is saying here, the disappearance of Reddington was a stunt to protect her family? his family?
JENNIFER: "After you left, we went into Witness Protection."
So, here Jennifer DOES know that Red IS her father who left her, and her mother, and when he did, they went into WITSEC, basically saying her mother testified or provided evidence that warranted her going into WITSEC.
RED: Put where the Cabal wouldn't find you.
Red then says that doing so was to protect Carla and Jennifer, a stunt created to hide them from the cabal. A lie, that her mother was scared of her husband, and an admission to us that the charges of treason were fabricated, which we saw when Carla pretends to be afraid in 2.01.
JENNIFER: Or my father.
Jennifer here then does not know Red is not her father, but it is saying that they were hidden in such a manner than her father could not find them, even if he had wanted to.

RED: An effective, albeit excruciatingly painful solution.
JENNIFER: Effective?
RED: You survived, as did your mother, to whom I hope you are now willing to take me.

He admits here that being separated from his wife and child was a solution that although was painful for him, it served the purpose of keeping both Carla and Jennifer alive. Then the whole thing, his becoming a criminal, based on the evidence given by her mother served the purpose of putting them in WITSEC to hide, because it was easier for him to become a criminal, via the evidence provided by his wife, than it was for Katarina Rostova to evade the KGB and the CIA, to protect HER family, essentially saying that Jennifer IS the family of Katarina Rostova, essentially saying that the woman Jennifer knew as her mother, and we saw as Carla AKA Naomi IS Katarina Rostova, hidden in WITSEC from the KGB, the CIA and the cabal, and kept there because her husband was a criminal at large, and she provided testimony or proof against him, a rouse.
​
<<<<< CONCLUSIONS OF SEASON 5 >>>>>
So here is where we are. The bones as the remains of the "real" Raymond Reddington makes sense so long as we do not examine details, dialogue and motivations. Nachalo makes it even worse. Total nonsense.
Unless the show changed directions, but then why would Bokenkamp, Eisendrath, Reiter , Knauff and the rest with such patent nonsense?
Why write lines that make it impossible that Red is other than Reddington, even, if he is still an impostor, in the sense nobody was born Raymond Reddington?
ROSS TO RED: "Let's start with this DNA report. For 30 years, I've wanted to be in the same room as Raymond Reddington, the bastard who tricked me into selling the Chinese a dodo bird when they were looking for an eagle. And here we are. So, the DNA report tell me what it means."
KATE TO THE BONES: "I'm sorry, Katarina."
NIK TO TOM: "Reddington's her father? I can't say I'm surprised. I'm sad for her. That sucks, but what does this have to do with me? "
RED TO SAM: "You will always be her father, Sam. I can only hope that I can love her and protect her as you have."
SAMAR: "Yes, and we can't disprove it with DNA because there's nothing on file from 1990 when Reddington disappeared."
GARVEY TO LIZ AND JENNIFER: "Reddington's (RED) her father.... Now I get it. Reddington (RED) and your husband (TOM), how they knew each other. Reddington (RED) didn't know you (LIZ) through him (TOM). He knew him (TOM) through you (LIZ)."
GARVEY TO TOM: "You know, all this time I've given you to think has prompted me to do some thinking of my own. And, uh I got to tell you, I'm stumped. When you consider all the people on the planet who would be interested in the contents of that case and you multiply that number by an even greater number of unspeakable things those people would do to get it, how the hell could it end up in the hands of a little pissant like you?"
SMOKEY ABOUT THE BONES: "If what you're looking for is as valuable as you say, why why why why didn't they put it up for auction?"
RED: "You have the bones. You already know the truth."
DEMBE KNOWING ROSS KNOWS THE BONES ID: "Ross wants blood. He thinks you (RED) ruined his life."
DEMBE KNOWING ROSS KNOWS THE BONES ID: "But he thinks you (RED) did, and because of that, he wants to world to know what's inside the duffel."
RED TO JENNIFER: "Being a fugitive from American law enforcement is a lot easier than being a fugitive from the two most powerful nations on Earth. And anyone close to a target of theirs becomes a target themselves.... Especially family. Unless they're abandoned on the side of a road on Christmas Eve...An effective, albeit excruciatingly painful solution.....You survived, as did your mother, to whom I hope you are now willing to take me."
JENNIFER TO RED: "After you left, we went into Witness Protection."
We continue later to seasons 6 to 8.

I'm from EU,so GAMES SHOULD work pretty much anywhere
NOT BUYING GAMES,ONLY TRADES - games for games or selling for paypal
No interest in TF2 keys,CSGO cases or ANY other virtual currency
BUYER covers the FEES (if outside EU,EU F&F only)
My Steam account so you don't offer me something I own
My Wishlist
My SGSRep
My IGSRep
​
​
Only looking for Steam games - so don't offer origin,uplay,rockstar,bnet or ANY other launcher
100% of my games keys are bought by me from official stores & I expect the same in return,so don't offer me keyshop games or game keys you got in a trade as I will decline
I retain the right to ask for proof of ownership for ANY game I want - just like YOU have the right to ask me the same
​
​
List of games I have:
Also have the Earthquake Relief bundle but reddit wont let me write all the games cause my topic would be too big - just ask
7 Billion Humans
8Doors Arum's Afterlife Adventure
10 Second Ninja X
60 Seconds!
112 Operator
140
198X
911 Operator
A Case Of Distrust
A Year Of Rain
Absolver
Aeolis Tournament
Age Of Wonders III
Ageless
Airport CEO
AI War 2
Alien Spidy
Aliens Vs Predator Collection
All You Can Eat
Almost There The Platformer
American Fugitive
Amnesia A Machine For Pigs + The Dark Descent (1 key for both games)
Amnesia Fortnight 2012
Amnesia Fortnight 2014
Amnesia Fortnight 2017
Amnesia Rebirth (X2)
Among Us (X2)
Ancestors The Humankind Odyssey (EU & Africa lock)
Aragami (X2)
Archamon
Army Men RTS
Attack Of The Earthlings
Automobilista
Aven Colony
Avernum 3 Ruined World
Azkend 2 The World Beneath
Back 4 Blood (EU region lock)
Backbone
Band Of Defenders
Banished
Baseball Riot
Batora Lost Haven
Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
Behind The Frame Finest Scenery NEW
Beholder 2
Bendy And The Dark Revival (X2)
Bendy And The Ink Machine
Betrayer (delisted)
Between The Stars (X2)
Beyond Eyes
Beyond The Wire
Bionic Commando
Bionic Commando Rearmed
Bird Of Light
Black Paradox
Bohemian Killing
Book Of Demons
Bomber Crew Deluxe
Borderlands 3 + Director's Cut (ask about region locks)
Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition NEW (ask about region locks)
Boreal Blade
Broken Age (X2)
Brothers A Tale Of Two Sons (X2)
Builder Simulator NEW
Butcher
Call Of Juarez
Call Of The Sea (X2)
Call To Arms Basic Edition
Call To Arms Gates Of Hell Ostfront
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
Chenso Club
Chernobylite Enhanced Edition
Cities In Motion 2
CivCity Rome
Clone Drone In The Danger Zone
Clouds & Sheep 2
Coffin Dodgers
Cook Serve Delicious 3
Company Of Heroes Complete Edition
Control Ultimate Edition
Corridor Z
Cosmic Osmo And The World Beyond The Mackerel
Crash Drive 3
Creatures Inc
Crookz The Big Heist
Crossbow Bloodnight
Crusader Kings Complete
Crying Suns
Dagon The Eldritch Box
Danger Scavenger
Day Of Infamy
Dead Age
Dead In Vinland
Deadly Premonition Director's Cut
Deadbeat Heroes (X2)
Dear Ester Landmark Edition
Death Stranding Director's Cut
Death Squared
Deep Dungeons Of Doom
Deep Sky Derelicts
Demon Turf
Deployment
Desert Child
Destiny 2 Beyond Light NEW
Diaries Of A Spaceport Janitor
Dicey Dungeons (X2)
Dimension Drifter
Distraint 2 + Soundtrack
Divekick
Dog Sled Saga
Double Fine Adventures Complete Series Deluxe
Downwell
Drawful 2
Draw Slasher
Dreadlands
Dread X Collection
Driftland The Magic Revival
Dry Downing
Duke Nukem Forever Collection
Dungeon Marathon
Dungeon Of The Endless
Dungeons 2
Dungeons 2 Complete
Dungeons 3
Dusk
Dwarfs!?
Eador Imperium
EarthX
Eastside Hockey Manager
ECHO
Edge Of Eternity
Effie
Elderborn
Eldest Souls
Elden Path Of The Forgotten
Embr
Emily Is Away
Empyrion Galactic Survival
Epic Manager
E.T. Armies Deluxe Edition
Etherborn (X2)
Euro Truck Simulator 2
Europa Universalis IV
Evergarden
Expeditions Viking
F1 2018 (delisted)
Family Man
Fantasy Blacksmith
Fantasy Versus
Farmer's Dynasty
Farming Simulator 17
FIA European Truck Racing
Figment (X2)
Finding Paradise
Fire Ungh's Quest
First Class Trouble
Five Dates
Fling To The Finish
Fluffy Horde
Fobia St. Dinfna Hotel
Forgive Me Father
Framed Collection (X2)
Friday the 13th: The Game
Fun With Ragdolls The Game
Fury Unleashed (X2)
Gang Beasts
Garage Bad Trip (X2)
Gas Guzzlers Extreme
Gas Station Simulator
Gauge
Generation Zero NEW
Ghostrunner
Giana Sisters Twisted Dreams + Rise Of The Owlverlord
Gloria Victis NEW
GNOG
Go Home Dinosaurs!
Goat Of Duty
Goetia (X2)
Going Under (X2)
Golden Light
Golf Gang
GoNNER
Grand Ages Medieval
Grand Pigeon's Duty
Greak Memories Of Azur
Gremlins Inc.
Grip Combat Racing + Cygon + Nyvoss + Terra + Vintek DLC (X2)
Guts And Glory (X2)
Hack'n'Slash
Haiku The Robot (X2)
Hamilton's Great Adventure
Hammerfight
Headlander
Heal
Hedon Bloodrite
Hell Let Loose
Hellblade Senua's Sacrifice
Hello Neighbor
Hellbound
Hero Defense
Hero's Hour (EU region lock)
Hexologic
Hidden & Dangerous Action Pack
Hidden & Dangerous 2 Courage Under Fire
Hive Jump (X2)
Hiveswap Act 2
Hiveswap Friend Sim (X2)
Homeworld Deserts Of Kharak
Hotshot Racing
Hot Tin Roof The Cat That Wore A Fedora
Hot Wheels Unleashed
Hover (X2)
Human Resource Machine
Hurtworld
I Am Bread
I Am Not A Monster First Contact
Ice Lakes
If Found...
Ikenfell
Impact Winter (delisted)
In Between
Industria
Inexistence Rebirth
Infinite Air With Mark McMorris (delisted)
Influent
Inmost
Interplanetary Enhanced Edition
Intruder
Ion Fury
Iron Danger
Iron Harvest
Jack Axe
Jalopy
Jet Set Knights
Juanito Arcade Mayhem
Jump Stars
Jurassic World Evolution
Just Die Already
KartKraft
Kathy Rain Directors Cut
Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes (X2)
Killing Floor 2 Digital Deluxe NEW
Kill To Collect
Kingdom Classic (X2)
Kingdom New Lands
Kingdoms Of Amalur Re-Reckoning Fate Edition
King Oddball
Labyrinthine
Last Oasis
Last Tide
Lawn Mowing Simulator
Lead And Gold Gangs Of Wild West (X2)
Legacy Of Dorn Herald Of Oblivion (delisted)
Legend Of Keepers Career Of A Dungeon Master
Leisure Suit Larry Retro Bundle (1 to 7)
Lethal League Blaze
Liberated (GOG key)
Lifeless Planet Premium Edition
Light Fall
Little Big Workshop
Lost Planet Complete Pack
Lust For Darkness
Lust From Beyond M Edition
Magicka
Magrunner Dark Pulse
Maid Of Sker
Main Assembly (X2)
Mars Horizon
Masquerade The Baubles Of Doom
Max Payne 3 (Rockstar Launcher)
Mega Man Legacy Collection
Midnight Ghost Hunt NEW
Midnight Protocol
Mind Scanners
Mini Metro
Miscreated (X2)
Monster Crown
Monster Train Collectors Edition
Moon Hunters
Morbid The Seven Acolytes
Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021
Motorsport Manager
Mount And Blade Warband
My Lovely Daughter
Naruto To Boruto Shinobi Striker
Nascar Heat 5 Ultimate
Nebuchadnezzar
NecroVisioN Lost Company
NecroWorn
Neighbours Back From Hell
Neo Cab
Neon Abyss
NeuroVoider
Neverout
Nickelodeon All Star Brawl (X2)
Ninjin Clash Of Carrots
No Time To Relax
Northgard NEW
Not Tonight
Obduction
Observation
Octahedron
Odyssey The Story Of Science
Of Orcs And Men
Old School Musical
OlliOlli World Rad Edition
On Rusty Trails
One Finger Death Punch 2
Onikira Demon Killer
Operation Tango NEW
Orbital Racer
Orcs Must Die 2 Complete
Original War
Orwell Ignorance Is Strength
Out Of Reach Treasure Royal
Overlord II
Overpass
Override Mech City Brawl
Oxenfree
Pacer
Paint The Town Red
Paper Fire Rookie
Paradise Lost
Path Of Giants
Paw Paw Paw
Payday 2 + Big Mike mask
Peaky Blinders Mastermind (delisted)
Penarium
People Playground (X2)
Perfect Heist 2
PGA Tour 2K21 (X2)
Phoenix Point Year One Edition
Pikuniku
Pine
Pinstripe
Pixplode
Plane Mechanic Simulator
Poöf
Popup Dungeon
Post Void
Pound Of Ground (X2)
PowerSlave Exhumed
Prehistoric Kingdom
Primal Carnage Extinction (X2)
Project Cars GOTY (delisted)
Project Hospital
Project Warlock
Propnight
Pulsar The Lost Colony NEW
Pumped BMX+
Punch Club
Purrfect Date
Quest Of Dungeons
RAD (X2)
Radio Commander
Rad Rodgers Radical Edition
Railroad Tycoon 2
Railroad Tycoon 3
Railway Empire
Raji An Ancient Epic
Rebel Cops
Rec Center Tycoon
Red Faction Armageddon
Red Solstice 2 Survivors
Redeemer Enhanced Edition
Redout Enhanced Edition
Re-Legion
Remothered Broken Porcelain
Resident Evil 4
Resident Evil Revelations (X2)
Resident Evil Revelations 2 Deluxe Edition
Retimed
Retrowave
Reventure
Revita
Ring Of Pain
Rings Of Saturn
Riot Civil Unrest
Rise Of Industry
Rise Of Insanity
Riven The Sequel To MYST
Roarr! The Adventures Of Rampage Rex
Roboquest
Rogue Heroes Ruins Of Tasos
Rogue Lords
Rogue Stormers
Rover Mechanic Simulator
RPG Maker VX
Rustler
Sable
Salt And Sanctuary
Satellite Reign
Satisfactory
Saturday Morning RPG
Say No! More
SCP 5K
SCUM (X2)
ScourgeBringer
Serious Sam 2
Serious Sam BFE (X2)
Serious Sam Classics Revolution
Serious Sam Double D XXL
Serious Sam HD The First & Second Encounter (1 key for both)
Serious Sam HD The Second Encounter Legend Of The Beast
Serious Sam HD The Second Encounter Serious 8
Serious Sam Kamikaze Attack
Serious Sam The Random Encounter
Serious Sam Bogus Detour
Shadow Tactics Aiko's Choice
Shady Part Of Me
She Remembered Caterpillars
She Will Punish Them
Shing!
Shock Troopers
Shogun's Empire Hex Commander
Shuyan Saga
Sid Meier's Civilization VI
Sid Meier's Railroads
Simulacra Collection
Skeletal Avenger
Skullgirls 2nd Encore
Skully
Slime Rancher
Slinger VR
Smoke And Sacrifice (X2)
Sniper Elite V2 Remastered
Sniper Elite 4 Deluxe + Season Pass
SOMA
Song Of Iron
Soulblight
Spacebase DF-9
Space Hulk Ascension (delisted)
Sparkle 2
Sparkle Unleashed
Spellcaster University
Spelunx And The Caves Of Mr. Seudo
Spiritfarer Farewell Edition NEW
Stacking
Starsand (X2)
Star Wars Jedi Knight Jedi Academy
Star Wars Knights Of The Old Republic
Stasis
State Of Decay 2 Juggernaut Edition
State Of Mind
Steel Rats
Stick Fight The Game (X3)
Stories Untold
Streets Of Fury EX
Strider (X2)
Struggling
Stubbs The Zombie
Styx Shards Of Darkness
Submerged Hidden Depths
Suchart Genius Artist Simulator
Super Indie Carts
Super Magbot
Supraland
SurrounDead (X2)
Surviving The Aftermath
Suzerain
Swag And Sorcery
Sword Legacy Omen
Swords And Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
Swords And Souls Neverseen (X2)
Syberia II
Syberia 3 Deluxe Edition
Syberia The World Before
Syndrome
System Shock Enhanced Edition
Table Manners The Physics-Based Dating Game
Tabletop Playground
Tacoma
Take On Helicopters
Tales From Candlekeep Tomb Of Annihilation (delisted)
Tales Of Monkey Island Complete
Talisman Digital Edition + City,Frostmarch,Sacred Pool (trading only as a bundle)
Talisman Origins
Tank Mechanic Simulator
Telefrag VR
Teleglitch Die More Edition
Tennis In The Face
Tennis World Tour (X2)
Tesla Force
Tesla Vs Lovecraft
Tharsis (X2)
The Amazing American Circus
The Ambassador Fractured Timelines
The Adventure Pals
The Battle Of Polytopia Moonrise Deluxe
The Blackout Club
The Citadel
The Count Lucador
The Free Ones (delisted)
The Golf Club 2019 featuring PGA Tour
theHunter Call Of The Wild (X3)
The Invisible Hand NEW
The Journey Down Chapter Three
The King Of Fighters 2002 Unlimited Match
The Last Blade
The Life And Suffering Of Sir Brante
The Long Dark Survival Edition (X2)
The Manhole Masterpiece Edition
The Mims Beginning
The Mortuary Assistant
The Night Of The Rabbit
The Serpent Rogue
The Signifier Director's Cut
The Textorcist The Story of Ray Bibbia (X2)
The Uncertain Last Quiet Day (X2)
The USB Stick Found In The Grass
The Walking Dead Season 1 + 400 Days
The Wild Eight (X2)
They Bleed Pixels
Think Of The Children
This War Of Mine
Thronebreaker The Witcher Tales
THOTH
Through The Darkest Of Times
Timeshift
Time Recoil
Titan Quest Anniversary
Toejam & Earl Back In The Groove
TOEM
Tohu
Tools Up
Tooth And Tail (X2)
Torchlight (X2)
Total Tank Simulator
Totally Accurate Battle Simulator
Toto Temple Deluxe
Tower Of Time (X2)
Tower Unite
Townscaper (X2)
Townsmen A Kingdom Rebuilt
Toybox Turbos
Tracks The Train Set Game
Train Station Renovation
Treasure Hunter Simulator (X2)
Tropico 4
True Fear Forsaken Souls Part 1
Tyranny Deluxe Edition
Unexplored
Unloved
Unmetal
Unshaded
Vambrace Cold Soul
Vane
Velocibox
Verdun
Vikings Wolves Of Midgard
Visage
Volcanoids (X2)
V Rally 4
Wanderlust Travel Stories (GOG key)
Warhammer 40K Chaos Gate Daemonhunters NEW
Warhammer End Times Vermintide
Warhammer Vermintide 2 NEW
Warlock Master Of The Arcane
Warpips
Warsaw
Wasteland 2 Director's Cut
We Are The Dwarves
We Should Talk
Western Press
We Were Here Together
When Ski Lifts Go Wrong
Where The Water Tastes Like Wine
While True: Learn() Chief Technology Officer Edition
White Day: A Labyrinth Named School
Windjammers 2 NEW
Wooden Sen'SeY
Worms Rumble + Legends DLC
Wrath Aeon Of Ruin (X2)
XCOM Complete Pack
Xenoraid The First Space War
X Morph Defense + European Assault + Last Bastion + Survival Of The Fittest (1 key for all)
XIII Classic
Xuan-Yuan Sword The Gate Of Firmament
Yet Another Zombie Defense HD
Ylands Exploration Pack
Yoku's Island Express
Yooka-Laylee And The Impossible Lair
Zack 2 Celestine's Map
ZIC Zombies In City
Zombie Army Trilogy

I'm from EU,so GAMES SHOULD work pretty much anywhere
NOT BUYING GAMES,ONLY TRADES - games for games or selling for paypal
No interest in TF2 keys,CSGO cases or ANY other virtual currency
BUYER covers the FEES (if outside EU,EU F&F only)
My Steam account so you don't offer me something I own
My Wishlist
My SGSRep
My IGSRep
​
​
Only looking for Steam games - so don't offer origin,uplay,rockstar,bnet or ANY other launcher
100% of my games keys are bought by me from official stores & I expect the same in return,so don't offer me keyshop games or game keys you got in a trade as I will decline
I retain the right to ask for proof of ownership for ANY game I want - just like YOU have the right to ask me the same
​
​
List of games I have:
Also have the Earthquake Relief bundle but reddit wont let me write all the games cause my topic would be too big - just ask
7 Billion Humans
8Doors Arum's Afterlife Adventure
10 Second Ninja X
60 Seconds!
112 Operator
140
198X
911 Operator
A Case Of Distrust
A Year Of Rain
Absolver
Aeolis Tournament
Age Of Wonders III
Ageless
Airport CEO
AI War 2
Alien Spidy
Aliens Vs Predator Collection
All You Can Eat
Almost There The Platformer
American Fugitive
Amnesia A Machine For Pigs + The Dark Descent (1 key for both games)
Amnesia Fortnight 2012
Amnesia Fortnight 2014
Amnesia Fortnight 2017
Amnesia Rebirth (X2)
Among Us (X2)
Ancestors The Humankind Odyssey (EU & Africa lock)
Aragami (X2)
Archamon
Army Men RTS
Attack Of The Earthlings
Automobilista
Aven Colony
Avernum 3 Ruined World
Azkend 2 The World Beneath
Back 4 Blood (EU region lock)
Backbone
Band Of Defenders
Banished
Baseball Riot
Batora Lost Haven
Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
Behind The Frame Finest Scenery NEW
Beholder 2
Bendy And The Dark Revival (X2)
Bendy And The Ink Machine
Betrayer (delisted)
Between The Stars (X2)
Beyond Eyes
Beyond The Wire
Bionic Commando
Bionic Commando Rearmed
Bird Of Light
Black Paradox
Bohemian Killing
Book Of Demons
Bomber Crew Deluxe
Borderlands 3 + Director's Cut (ask about region locks)
Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition NEW (ask about region locks)
Boreal Blade
Broken Age (X2)
Brothers A Tale Of Two Sons (X2)
Builder Simulator NEW
Butcher
Call Of Juarez
Call Of The Sea (X2)
Call To Arms Basic Edition
Call To Arms Gates Of Hell Ostfront
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
Chenso Club
Chernobylite Enhanced Edition
Cities In Motion 2
CivCity Rome
Clone Drone In The Danger Zone
Clouds & Sheep 2
Coffin Dodgers
Cook Serve Delicious 3
Company Of Heroes Complete Edition
Control Ultimate Edition
Corridor Z
Cosmic Osmo And The World Beyond The Mackerel
Crash Drive 3
Creatures Inc
Crookz The Big Heist
Crossbow Bloodnight
Crusader Kings Complete
Crying Suns
Dagon The Eldritch Box
Danger Scavenger
Day Of Infamy
Dead Age
Dead In Vinland
Deadly Premonition Director's Cut
Deadbeat Heroes (X2)
Dear Ester Landmark Edition
Death Stranding Director's Cut
Death Squared
Deep Dungeons Of Doom
Deep Sky Derelicts
Demon Turf
Deployment
Desert Child
Destiny 2 Beyond Light NEW
Diaries Of A Spaceport Janitor
Dicey Dungeons (X2)
Dimension Drifter
Distraint 2 + Soundtrack
Divekick
Dog Sled Saga
Double Fine Adventures Complete Series Deluxe
Downwell
Drawful 2
Draw Slasher
Dreadlands
Dread X Collection
Driftland The Magic Revival
Dry Downing
Duke Nukem Forever Collection
Dungeon Marathon
Dungeon Of The Endless
Dungeons 2
Dungeons 2 Complete
Dungeons 3
Dusk
Dwarfs!?
Eador Imperium
EarthX
Eastside Hockey Manager
ECHO
Edge Of Eternity
Effie
Elderborn
Eldest Souls
Elden Path Of The Forgotten
Embr
Emily Is Away
Empyrion Galactic Survival
Epic Manager
E.T. Armies Deluxe Edition
Etherborn (X2)
Euro Truck Simulator 2
Europa Universalis IV
Evergarden
Expeditions Viking
F1 2018 (delisted)
Family Man
Fantasy Blacksmith
Fantasy Versus
Farmer's Dynasty
Farming Simulator 17
FIA European Truck Racing
Figment (X2)
Finding Paradise
Fire Ungh's Quest
First Class Trouble
Five Dates
Fling To The Finish
Fluffy Horde
Fobia St. Dinfna Hotel
Forgive Me Father
Framed Collection (X2)
Friday the 13th: The Game
Fun With Ragdolls The Game
Fury Unleashed (X2)
Gang Beasts
Garage Bad Trip (X2)
Gas Guzzlers Extreme
Gas Station Simulator
Gauge
Generation Zero NEW
Ghostrunner
Giana Sisters Twisted Dreams + Rise Of The Owlverlord
Gloria Victis NEW
GNOG
Go Home Dinosaurs!
Goat Of Duty
Goetia (X2)
Going Under (X2)
Golden Light
Golf Gang
GoNNER
Grand Ages Medieval
Grand Pigeon's Duty
Greak Memories Of Azur
Gremlins Inc.
Grip Combat Racing + Cygon + Nyvoss + Terra + Vintek DLC (X2)
Guts And Glory (X2)
Hack'n'Slash
Haiku The Robot (X2)
Hamilton's Great Adventure
Hammerfight
Headlander
Heal
Hedon Bloodrite
Hell Let Loose
Hellblade Senua's Sacrifice
Hello Neighbor
Hellbound
Hero Defense
Hero's Hour (EU region lock)
Hexologic
Hidden & Dangerous Action Pack
Hidden & Dangerous 2 Courage Under Fire
Hive Jump (X2)
Hiveswap Act 2
Hiveswap Friend Sim (X2)
Homeworld Deserts Of Kharak
Hotshot Racing
Hot Tin Roof The Cat That Wore A Fedora
Hot Wheels Unleashed
Hover (X2)
Human Resource Machine
Hurtworld
I Am Bread
I Am Not A Monster First Contact
Ice Lakes
If Found...
Ikenfell
Impact Winter (delisted)
In Between
Industria
Inexistence Rebirth
Infinite Air With Mark McMorris (delisted)
Influent
Inmost
Interplanetary Enhanced Edition
Intruder
Ion Fury
Iron Danger
Iron Harvest
Jack Axe
Jalopy
Jet Set Knights
Juanito Arcade Mayhem
Jump Stars
Jurassic World Evolution
Just Die Already
KartKraft
Kathy Rain Directors Cut
Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes (X2)
Killing Floor 2 Digital Deluxe NEW
Kill To Collect
Kingdom Classic (X2)
Kingdom New Lands
Kingdoms Of Amalur Re-Reckoning Fate Edition
King Oddball
Labyrinthine
Last Oasis
Last Tide
Lawn Mowing Simulator
Lead And Gold Gangs Of Wild West (X2)
Legacy Of Dorn Herald Of Oblivion (delisted)
Legend Of Keepers Career Of A Dungeon Master
Leisure Suit Larry Retro Bundle (1 to 7)
Lethal League Blaze
Liberated (GOG key)
Lifeless Planet Premium Edition
Light Fall
Little Big Workshop
Lost Planet Complete Pack
Lust For Darkness
Lust From Beyond M Edition
Magicka
Magrunner Dark Pulse
Maid Of Sker
Main Assembly (X2)
Mars Horizon
Masquerade The Baubles Of Doom
Max Payne 3 (Rockstar Launcher)
Mega Man Legacy Collection
Midnight Ghost Hunt NEW
Midnight Protocol
Mind Scanners
Mini Metro
Miscreated (X2)
Monster Crown
Monster Train Collectors Edition
Moon Hunters
Morbid The Seven Acolytes
Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021
Motorsport Manager
Mount And Blade Warband
My Lovely Daughter
Naruto To Boruto Shinobi Striker
Nascar Heat 5 Ultimate
Nebuchadnezzar
NecroVisioN Lost Company
NecroWorn
Neighbours Back From Hell
Neo Cab
Neon Abyss
NeuroVoider
Neverout
Nickelodeon All Star Brawl (X2)
Ninjin Clash Of Carrots
No Time To Relax
Northgard NEW
Not Tonight
Obduction
Observation
Octahedron
Odyssey The Story Of Science
Of Orcs And Men
Old School Musical
OlliOlli World Rad Edition
On Rusty Trails
One Finger Death Punch 2
Onikira Demon Killer
Operation Tango NEW
Orbital Racer
Orcs Must Die 2 Complete
Original War
Orwell Ignorance Is Strength
Out Of Reach Treasure Royal
Overlord II
Overpass
Override Mech City Brawl
Oxenfree
Pacer
Paint The Town Red
Paper Fire Rookie
Paradise Lost
Path Of Giants
Paw Paw Paw
Payday 2 + Big Mike mask
Peaky Blinders Mastermind (delisted)
Penarium
People Playground (X2)
Perfect Heist 2
PGA Tour 2K21 (X2)
Phoenix Point Year One Edition
Pikuniku
Pine
Pinstripe
Pixplode
Plane Mechanic Simulator
Poöf
Popup Dungeon
Post Void
Pound Of Ground (X2)
PowerSlave Exhumed
Prehistoric Kingdom
Primal Carnage Extinction (X2)
Project Cars GOTY (delisted)
Project Hospital
Project Warlock
Propnight
Pulsar The Lost Colony NEW
Pumped BMX+
Punch Club
Purrfect Date
Quest Of Dungeons
RAD (X2)
Radio Commander
Rad Rodgers Radical Edition
Railroad Tycoon 2
Railroad Tycoon 3
Railway Empire
Raji An Ancient Epic
Rebel Cops
Rec Center Tycoon
Red Faction Armageddon
Red Solstice 2 Survivors
Redeemer Enhanced Edition
Redout Enhanced Edition
Re-Legion
Remothered Broken Porcelain
Resident Evil 4
Resident Evil Revelations (X2)
Resident Evil Revelations 2 Deluxe Edition
Retimed
Retrowave
Reventure
Revita
Ring Of Pain
Rings Of Saturn
Riot Civil Unrest
Rise Of Industry
Rise Of Insanity
Riven The Sequel To MYST
Roarr! The Adventures Of Rampage Rex
Roboquest
Rogue Heroes Ruins Of Tasos
Rogue Lords
Rogue Stormers
Rover Mechanic Simulator
RPG Maker VX
Rustler
Sable
Salt And Sanctuary
Satellite Reign
Satisfactory
Saturday Morning RPG
Say No! More
SCP 5K
SCUM (X2)
ScourgeBringer
Serious Sam 2
Serious Sam BFE (X2)
Serious Sam Classics Revolution
Serious Sam Double D XXL
Serious Sam HD The First & Second Encounter (1 key for both)
Serious Sam HD The Second Encounter Legend Of The Beast
Serious Sam HD The Second Encounter Serious 8
Serious Sam Kamikaze Attack
Serious Sam The Random Encounter
Serious Sam Bogus Detour
Shadow Tactics Aiko's Choice
Shady Part Of Me
She Remembered Caterpillars
She Will Punish Them
Shing!
Shock Troopers
Shogun's Empire Hex Commander
Shuyan Saga
Sid Meier's Civilization VI
Sid Meier's Railroads
Simulacra Collection
Skeletal Avenger
Skullgirls 2nd Encore
Skully
Slime Rancher
Slinger VR
Smoke And Sacrifice (X2)
Sniper Elite V2 Remastered
Sniper Elite 4 Deluxe + Season Pass
SOMA
Song Of Iron
Soulblight
Spacebase DF-9
Space Hulk Ascension (delisted)
Sparkle 2
Sparkle Unleashed
Spellcaster University
Spelunx And The Caves Of Mr. Seudo
Spiritfarer Farewell Edition NEW
Stacking
Starsand (X2)
Star Wars Jedi Knight Jedi Academy
Star Wars Knights Of The Old Republic
Stasis
State Of Decay 2 Juggernaut Edition
State Of Mind
Steel Rats
Stick Fight The Game (X3)
Stories Untold
Streets Of Fury EX
Strider (X2)
Struggling
Stubbs The Zombie
Styx Shards Of Darkness
Submerged Hidden Depths
Suchart Genius Artist Simulator
Super Indie Carts
Super Magbot
Supraland
SurrounDead (X2)
Surviving The Aftermath
Suzerain
Swag And Sorcery
Sword Legacy Omen
Swords And Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
Swords And Souls Neverseen (X2)
Syberia II
Syberia 3 Deluxe Edition
Syberia The World Before
Syndrome
System Shock Enhanced Edition
Table Manners The Physics-Based Dating Game
Tabletop Playground
Tacoma
Take On Helicopters
Tales From Candlekeep Tomb Of Annihilation (delisted)
Tales Of Monkey Island Complete
Talisman Digital Edition + City,Frostmarch,Sacred Pool (trading only as a bundle)
Talisman Origins
Tank Mechanic Simulator
Telefrag VR
Teleglitch Die More Edition
Tennis In The Face
Tennis World Tour (X2)
Tesla Force
Tesla Vs Lovecraft
Tharsis (X2)
The Amazing American Circus
The Ambassador Fractured Timelines
The Adventure Pals
The Battle Of Polytopia Moonrise Deluxe
The Blackout Club
The Citadel
The Count Lucador
The Free Ones (delisted)
The Golf Club 2019 featuring PGA Tour
theHunter Call Of The Wild (X3)
The Invisible Hand NEW
The Journey Down Chapter Three
The King Of Fighters 2002 Unlimited Match
The Last Blade
The Life And Suffering Of Sir Brante
The Long Dark Survival Edition (X2)
The Manhole Masterpiece Edition
The Mims Beginning
The Mortuary Assistant
The Night Of The Rabbit
The Serpent Rogue
The Signifier Director's Cut
The Textorcist The Story of Ray Bibbia (X2)
The Uncertain Last Quiet Day (X2)
The USB Stick Found In The Grass
The Walking Dead Season 1 + 400 Days
The Wild Eight (X2)
They Bleed Pixels
Think Of The Children
This War Of Mine
Thronebreaker The Witcher Tales
THOTH
Through The Darkest Of Times
Timeshift
Time Recoil
Titan Quest Anniversary
Toejam & Earl Back In The Groove
TOEM
Tohu
Tools Up
Tooth And Tail (X2)
Torchlight (X2)
Total Tank Simulator
Totally Accurate Battle Simulator
Toto Temple Deluxe
Tower Of Time (X2)
Tower Unite
Townscaper (X2)
Townsmen A Kingdom Rebuilt
Toybox Turbos
Tracks The Train Set Game
Train Station Renovation
Treasure Hunter Simulator (X2)
Tropico 4
True Fear Forsaken Souls Part 1
Tyranny Deluxe Edition
Unexplored
Unloved
Unmetal
Unshaded
Vambrace Cold Soul
Vane
Velocibox
Verdun
Vikings Wolves Of Midgard
Visage
Volcanoids (X2)
V Rally 4
Wanderlust Travel Stories (GOG key)
Warhammer 40K Chaos Gate Daemonhunters NEW
Warhammer End Times Vermintide
Warhammer Vermintide 2 NEW
Warlock Master Of The Arcane
Warpips
Warsaw
Wasteland 2 Director's Cut
We Are The Dwarves
We Should Talk
Western Press
We Were Here Together
When Ski Lifts Go Wrong
Where The Water Tastes Like Wine
While True: Learn() Chief Technology Officer Edition
White Day: A Labyrinth Named School
Windjammers 2 NEW
Wooden Sen'SeY
Worms Rumble + Legends DLC
Wrath Aeon Of Ruin (X2)
XCOM Complete Pack
Xenoraid The First Space War
X Morph Defense + European Assault + Last Bastion + Survival Of The Fittest (1 key for all)
XIII Classic
Xuan-Yuan Sword The Gate Of Firmament
Yet Another Zombie Defense HD
Ylands Exploration Pack
Yoku's Island Express
Yooka-Laylee And The Impossible Lair
Zack 2 Celestine's Map
ZIC Zombies In City
Zombie Army Trilogy

I'm from EU,so GAMES SHOULD work pretty much anywhere
NOT BUYING GAMES,ONLY TRADES - games for games or selling for paypal
No interest in TF2 keys,CSGO cases or ANY other virtual currency
BUYER covers the FEES (if outside EU,EU F&F only)
My Steam account so you don't offer me something I own
My Wishlist
My SGSRep
My IGSRep
​
​
Only looking for Steam games - so don't offer origin,uplay,rockstar,bnet or ANY other launcher
100% of my games keys are bought by me from official stores & I expect the same in return,so don't offer me keyshop games or game keys you got in a trade as I will decline
I retain the right to ask for proof of ownership for ANY game I want - just like YOU have the right to ask me the same
​
​
List of games I have:
Also have the Earthquake Relief bundle but reddit wont let me write all the games cause my topic would be too big - just ask
7 Billion Humans
8Doors Arum's Afterlife Adventure
10 Second Ninja X
60 Seconds!
112 Operator
140
198X
911 Operator
A Case Of Distrust
A Year Of Rain
Absolver
Aeolis Tournament
Age Of Wonders III
Ageless
Airport CEO
AI War 2
Alien Spidy
Aliens Vs Predator Collection
All You Can Eat
Almost There The Platformer
American Fugitive
Amnesia A Machine For Pigs + The Dark Descent (1 key for both games)
Amnesia Fortnight 2012
Amnesia Fortnight 2014
Amnesia Fortnight 2017
Amnesia Rebirth (X2)
Among Us (X2)
Ancestors The Humankind Odyssey (EU & Africa lock)
Aragami (X2)
Archamon
Army Men RTS
Attack Of The Earthlings
Automobilista
Aven Colony
Avernum 3 Ruined World
Azkend 2 The World Beneath
Back 4 Blood (EU region lock)
Backbone
Band Of Defenders
Banished
Baseball Riot
Batora Lost Haven
Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
Behind The Frame Finest Scenery NEW
Beholder 2
Bendy And The Dark Revival (X2)
Bendy And The Ink Machine
Betrayer (delisted)
Between The Stars (X2)
Beyond Eyes
Beyond The Wire
Bionic Commando
Bionic Commando Rearmed
Bird Of Light
Black Paradox
Bohemian Killing
Book Of Demons
Bomber Crew Deluxe
Borderlands 3 + Director's Cut (ask about region locks)
Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition NEW (ask about region locks)
Boreal Blade
Broken Age (X2)
Brothers A Tale Of Two Sons (X2)
Builder Simulator NEW
Butcher
Call Of Juarez
Call Of The Sea (X2)
Call To Arms Basic Edition
Call To Arms Gates Of Hell Ostfront
Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
Chenso Club
Chernobylite Enhanced Edition
Cities In Motion 2
CivCity Rome
Clone Drone In The Danger Zone
Clouds & Sheep 2
Coffin Dodgers
Cook Serve Delicious 3
Company Of Heroes Complete Edition
Control Ultimate Edition
Corridor Z
Cosmic Osmo And The World Beyond The Mackerel
Crash Drive 3
Creatures Inc
Crookz The Big Heist
Crossbow Bloodnight
Crusader Kings Complete
Crying Suns
Dagon The Eldritch Box
Danger Scavenger
Day Of Infamy
Dead Age
Dead In Vinland
Deadly Premonition Director's Cut
Deadbeat Heroes (X2)
Dear Ester Landmark Edition
Death Stranding Director's Cut
Death Squared
Deep Dungeons Of Doom
Deep Sky Derelicts
Demon Turf
Deployment
Desert Child
Destiny 2 Beyond Light NEW
Diaries Of A Spaceport Janitor
Dicey Dungeons (X2)
Dimension Drifter
Distraint 2 + Soundtrack
Divekick
Dog Sled Saga
Double Fine Adventures Complete Series Deluxe
Downwell
Drawful 2
Draw Slasher
Dreadlands
Dread X Collection
Driftland The Magic Revival
Dry Downing
Duke Nukem Forever Collection
Dungeon Marathon
Dungeon Of The Endless
Dungeons 2
Dungeons 2 Complete
Dungeons 3
Dusk
Dwarfs!?
Eador Imperium
EarthX
Eastside Hockey Manager
ECHO
Edge Of Eternity
Effie
Elderborn
Eldest Souls
Elden Path Of The Forgotten
Embr
Emily Is Away
Empyrion Galactic Survival
Epic Manager
E.T. Armies Deluxe Edition
Etherborn (X2)
Euro Truck Simulator 2
Europa Universalis IV
Evergarden
Expeditions Viking
F1 2018 (delisted)
Family Man
Fantasy Blacksmith
Fantasy Versus
Farmer's Dynasty
Farming Simulator 17
FIA European Truck Racing
Figment (X2)
Finding Paradise
Fire Ungh's Quest
First Class Trouble
Five Dates
Fling To The Finish
Fluffy Horde
Fobia St. Dinfna Hotel
Forgive Me Father
Framed Collection (X2)
Friday the 13th: The Game
Fun With Ragdolls The Game
Fury Unleashed (X2)
Gang Beasts
Garage Bad Trip (X2)
Gas Guzzlers Extreme
Gas Station Simulator
Gauge
Generation Zero NEW
Ghostrunner
Giana Sisters Twisted Dreams + Rise Of The Owlverlord
Gloria Victis NEW
GNOG
Go Home Dinosaurs!
Goat Of Duty
Goetia (X2)
Going Under (X2)
Golden Light
Golf Gang
GoNNER
Grand Ages Medieval
Grand Pigeon's Duty
Greak Memories Of Azur
Gremlins Inc.
Grip Combat Racing + Cygon + Nyvoss + Terra + Vintek DLC (X2)
Guts And Glory (X2)
Hack'n'Slash
Haiku The Robot (X2)
Hamilton's Great Adventure
Hammerfight
Headlander
Heal
Hedon Bloodrite
Hell Let Loose
Hellblade Senua's Sacrifice
Hello Neighbor
Hellbound
Hero Defense
Hero's Hour (EU region lock)
Hexologic
Hidden & Dangerous Action Pack
Hidden & Dangerous 2 Courage Under Fire
Hive Jump (X2)
Hiveswap Act 2
Hiveswap Friend Sim (X2)
Homeworld Deserts Of Kharak
Hotshot Racing
Hot Tin Roof The Cat That Wore A Fedora
Hot Wheels Unleashed
Hover (X2)
Human Resource Machine
Hurtworld
I Am Bread
I Am Not A Monster First Contact
Ice Lakes
If Found...
Ikenfell
Impact Winter (delisted)
In Between
Industria
Inexistence Rebirth
Infinite Air With Mark McMorris (delisted)
Influent
Inmost
Interplanetary Enhanced Edition
Intruder
Ion Fury
Iron Danger
Iron Harvest
Jack Axe
Jalopy
Jet Set Knights
Juanito Arcade Mayhem
Jump Stars
Jurassic World Evolution
Just Die Already
KartKraft
Kathy Rain Directors Cut
Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes (X2)
Killing Floor 2 Digital Deluxe NEW
Kill To Collect
Kingdom Classic (X2)
Kingdom New Lands
Kingdoms Of Amalur Re-Reckoning Fate Edition
King Oddball
Labyrinthine
Last Oasis
Last Tide
Lawn Mowing Simulator
Lead And Gold Gangs Of Wild West (X2)
Legacy Of Dorn Herald Of Oblivion (delisted)
Legend Of Keepers Career Of A Dungeon Master
Leisure Suit Larry Retro Bundle (1 to 7)
Lethal League Blaze
Liberated (GOG key)
Lifeless Planet Premium Edition
Light Fall
Little Big Workshop
Lost Planet Complete Pack
Lust For Darkness
Lust From Beyond M Edition
Magicka
Magrunner Dark Pulse
Maid Of Sker
Main Assembly (X2)
Mars Horizon
Masquerade The Baubles Of Doom
Max Payne 3 (Rockstar Launcher)
Mega Man Legacy Collection
Midnight Ghost Hunt NEW
Midnight Protocol
Mind Scanners
Mini Metro
Miscreated (X2)
Monster Crown
Monster Train Collectors Edition
Moon Hunters
Morbid The Seven Acolytes
Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021
Motorsport Manager
Mount And Blade Warband
My Lovely Daughter
Naruto To Boruto Shinobi Striker
Nascar Heat 5 Ultimate
Nebuchadnezzar
NecroVisioN Lost Company
NecroWorn
Neighbours Back From Hell
Neo Cab
Neon Abyss
NeuroVoider
Neverout
Nickelodeon All Star Brawl (X2)
Ninjin Clash Of Carrots
No Time To Relax
Northgard NEW
Not Tonight
Obduction
Observation
Octahedron
Odyssey The Story Of Science
Of Orcs And Men
Old School Musical
OlliOlli World Rad Edition
On Rusty Trails
One Finger Death Punch 2
Onikira Demon Killer
Operation Tango NEW
Orbital Racer
Orcs Must Die 2 Complete
Original War
Orwell Ignorance Is Strength
Out Of Reach Treasure Royal
Overlord II
Overpass
Override Mech City Brawl
Oxenfree
Pacer
Paint The Town Red
Paper Fire Rookie
Paradise Lost
Path Of Giants
Paw Paw Paw
Payday 2 + Big Mike mask
Peaky Blinders Mastermind (delisted)
Penarium
People Playground (X2)
Perfect Heist 2
PGA Tour 2K21 (X2)
Phoenix Point Year One Edition
Pikuniku
Pine
Pinstripe
Pixplode
Plane Mechanic Simulator
Poöf
Popup Dungeon
Post Void
Pound Of Ground (X2)
PowerSlave Exhumed
Prehistoric Kingdom
Primal Carnage Extinction (X2)
Project Cars GOTY (delisted)
Project Hospital
Project Warlock
Propnight
Pulsar The Lost Colony NEW
Pumped BMX+
Punch Club
Purrfect Date
Quest Of Dungeons
RAD (X2)
Radio Commander
Rad Rodgers Radical Edition
Railroad Tycoon 2
Railroad Tycoon 3
Railway Empire
Raji An Ancient Epic
Rebel Cops
Rec Center Tycoon
Red Faction Armageddon
Red Solstice 2 Survivors
Redeemer Enhanced Edition
Redout Enhanced Edition
Re-Legion
Remothered Broken Porcelain
Resident Evil 4
Resident Evil Revelations (X2)
Resident Evil Revelations 2 Deluxe Edition
Retimed
Retrowave
Reventure
Revita
Ring Of Pain
Rings Of Saturn
Riot Civil Unrest
Rise Of Industry
Rise Of Insanity
Riven The Sequel To MYST
Roarr! The Adventures Of Rampage Rex
Roboquest
Rogue Heroes Ruins Of Tasos
Rogue Lords
Rogue Stormers
Rover Mechanic Simulator
RPG Maker VX
Rustler
Sable
Salt And Sanctuary
Satellite Reign
Satisfactory
Saturday Morning RPG
Say No! More
SCP 5K
SCUM (X2)
ScourgeBringer
Serious Sam 2
Serious Sam BFE (X2)
Serious Sam Classics Revolution
Serious Sam Double D XXL
Serious Sam HD The First & Second Encounter (1 key for both)
Serious Sam HD The Second Encounter Legend Of The Beast
Serious Sam HD The Second Encounter Serious 8
Serious Sam Kamikaze Attack
Serious Sam The Random Encounter
Serious Sam Bogus Detour
Shadow Tactics Aiko's Choice
Shady Part Of Me
She Remembered Caterpillars
She Will Punish Them
Shing!
Shock Troopers
Shogun's Empire Hex Commander
Shuyan Saga
Sid Meier's Civilization VI
Sid Meier's Railroads
Simulacra Collection
Skeletal Avenger
Skullgirls 2nd Encore
Skully
Slime Rancher
Slinger VR
Smoke And Sacrifice (X2)
Sniper Elite V2 Remastered
Sniper Elite 4 Deluxe + Season Pass
SOMA
Song Of Iron
Soulblight
Spacebase DF-9
Space Hulk Ascension (delisted)
Sparkle 2
Sparkle Unleashed
Spellcaster University
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PART EIGHT HUNDRED AND THIRTY-EIGHT
[Previous Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Thursday
At the end of the cruise, Lucas and Boyd departed the ship arm in arm, utterly ignorant of everyone around them. Then, once they were on the dock, Boyd’s arm went around Lucas’ shoulders, tucking him in close to his body.
Lucas’ arm responded by sliding in around Boyd’s waist with his head resting against the front of Boyd’s clavicle. In the last half an hour, the clouds finally parted enough to let the moonlight shine through, and everything around them glistened from the mist-like rain that had taken almost the whole trip to wet their clothes properly. Lucas’ suit was a mess, but Boyd didn’t care. In his mind, he was already carving his fiancé the perfect timber ring.
“Did you want to do something else while we’re out?” Lucas asked, staring up at him.
“What I want to do is go home with you, carve you the perfect ring out of some type of ironwood, and celebrate tonight by completely wrecking our bed,” Boyd admitted, going as far as to tilt his head to kiss Lucas’s forehead.
Lucas’ smile grew even as the pointer finger of his free hand tapped his lips. “You missed.”
Boyd chuckled. “God, you’re such an ass.”
Lucas snickered and snuggled into his side. “And yet you’re still gonna marry me.”
“Hell, yeah.” Boyd looked at the ring on his left hand, twisting it so that the overhead lights leading them back to the street glinted off the silver frame. Lucas had bought the tungsten ring for durability, yet as a police detective, he wasn’t exactly able to avoid knocking his hands around either.
Boyd’s top two choices of timbers were both from Central America, and a little voice in the back of his head was insisting he’d seen small, two-inch-square samples of both in the store room that would be perfect for this application. He was already excited and itching to get to work on the project, despite knowing in the morning, he’d be needing to buy more tools to replace the ones that would be ruined on the insanely tough material. It’d be worth it to have Lucas wearing his ring to work.
“You can already picture it, can’t you?” Lucas asked.
When Boyd looked down, he stared into the blend of brown, gold and green that made up Lucas’ hazel eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted again. “And I’m thinking I’ll carve you two rings…”
“Why?!”
Boyd kissed him lightly to ease the sharpness in his tone.
“You are absolutely not setting foot outside our apartment without my ring on your damn finger tomorrow morning, and once it’s there, you’re not gonna want to take it off. But you’ll have to tomorrow night because I’ll need to put a couple more coats of shellac on it to seal it properly. So, you can wear the second one to bed. That way, at no point in time will your finger be bare, and you won’t have to wonder if it’s real or not.”
Lucas twisted enough to lay his hand against Boyd’s cheek. “I know we’re real. You don’t have to go to that much trouble for one night…”
Boyd couldn’t articulate that it was just as much for him as it was for Lucas. Moreso, if anything. The mere thought of Lucas’ ring finger being bare would’ve had him freaking out.
“It’ll be a spare—just in case anything happens to the original. I’m not saying anything will, but it’ll be cut from the same piece of timber.” Boyd curled his fingers around Lucas’ hand, gently pulling it from his cheek. “I never want to lose you.”
Lucas’ smile turned into a boyish grin. “Never.”
They walked down the concrete walkway with the bright red fence segregating them from the two lanes of traffic that led out onto Chelsea Piers. “Time to figure out where he dropped off my car,” Lucas murmured, reaching into his breast pocket for his phone.
The search was easy enough, but the pinhead in the map was behind them.
“What?” They both paused and turned around.
Sure enough, parked in one of the Pier’s own parking spaces was Lucas’ Porsche. Lucas bipped it unlocked as the pair approached. “Are you even allowed to park here?” Boyd asked, looking around for signage. It was such a pristine location; it couldn’t possibly be legally open to the public.
“I don’t know,” Lucas answered honestly as he opened the driver’s side door and slid into the seat, grabbing the parking stub that Robbie had left on the dash for the attendants to see. “But let’s just pay this and get out of here. We haven’t been towed yet.”
He started the car as Boyd buckled in, easing out into the nearly abandoned parking area. People who were making their way along the fenced-off walkway gave them an irritated scowl as they pulled out, but Boyd noticed Lucas was keeping the Porsche’s engine to a quiet idle rather than letting it roar.
They waited forever for the stream of passengers who turned left at the Chelsea Piers intersection to stop walking in front of the car before pulling out, only to repeat the process at the toll station when those who had turned right needed to cross in front of them as well.
“At this rate, we’re going to still be here tomorrow,” Boyd griped in frustration.
“Given that tomorrow is half an hour away, I’d agree.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Ten minutes later, they were pulling up outside the apartment building. During the whole ride, Boyd split his attention between his brand new engagement ring and the man who’d given it to him, and it wasn’t until Lucas backed into the parking space that he realised he hadn’t once thought about what his family would think of this arrangement. And now that he had, he was annoyed at himself for having done so.
“What’s wrong?” Lucas asked, turning in his seat to face him.
Boyd shook his head and forced himself to smile. The last thing he’d do was ruin tonight with his family’s narrow-minded viciousness.
The look in Lucas’ eyes said he didn’t buy it, and to add weight to that, he raised a finger and said, “Don’t move.” Then he unbuckled and climbed out of the car, walking around the front to Boyd’s door without taking his eyes off him once.
Boyd knew because he followed with his own very carefully.
Then the passenger door opened, and Lucas squatted down. “If this was a bigger car, I’d have climbed straight over the centre console to sit in your lap,” he said, his expression unamused despite the picture he painted. “You and I might have only been engaged for a hot minute, but don’t you dare lie to me and say it’s nothing when I know you better than that. You don’t hide anything from me, do you understand?” He stopped, then added after a moment’s consideration. “Well … with the exception of presents. And maybe good surprises that aren’t yours to tell me, like if you were to find out before me my sister’s pregnant or something.” Again he paused, and it was killing Boyd not to laugh at the way he kept changing his mind mid-sentence. “No, if she’s pregnant and you don’t tell me, you’re in trouble there too. But something else. Nothing comes to mind right now, but I’ll figure it out at the time. This…” —he flicked his finger to incorporate the length of Boyd still sitting in his seat. “…is bullshit. I know every single flicker of every muscle in your face, mister, and I know what all of them mean. I can guess what just went through your head, but if I ask you, it’s because I want confirmation, not a sidestep.”
“I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”
Lucas leaned forward, hooking Boyd’s chin to kiss him. “You’ll only do that if you ever lie to me, ’kay?” He pinched Boyd’s chin between his fingers. “I’m a detective. I’ll know. Spotting a lie is what I do for a living, remember?”
“I hadn’t thought about my family all night,” Boyd admitted. “And they snuck in right at the end, even though I didn’t want them to.”
Lucas smiled. “See? There, it’s said. Done and dusted. Your family are allowed to visit your thoughts, so long as they don’t take up residency there.”
Was it really that simple?
Lucas reached over him and unbuckled his seatbelt. “C’mon. I want to see your work from scratch.”
Boyd was immediately out of the car, shutting the door without looking at it. “No,” he countered, sliding his hand into Lucas’. “Bed wrecking first, then I’ll carve. I’m thinking snakewood, but I’m going to let you choose.” As he spoke, he led Lucas across the street and up the stoop to the front door.
“Snakewood?” Lucas laughed, dragging his heels just enough to lock the car with his fob. “Is that a real thing?”
Boyd nodded. “And once I give it its final seal, you won’t be able to break it with a sledgehammer.”
Lucas winced sceptically. “It is wood, right?”
“Ironwood,” Boyd classified with a snicker.
Lucas shook his head, more in disbelief than accusation. “What’s next? Dog—actually, there is a dogwood. Even I know that.”
“With pink and white flowers,” Boyd agreed, waggling his eyebrows.
Lucas shouldered him sideways a step. “Now, who’s being an ass?”
Happiness settled within Boyd, the likes of which he’d never felt before. This was him. This was truly him, and the level of comfort that gave him was second to none. “You are not allowed to get shot on the job,” he suddenly declared because, of course, his head had to go there. “I mean it. I couldn’t handle it. You let someone else take the bullet…”
“Shhh,” Lucas shushed as they climbed the stoop. “Despite the myth, cops don’t often get shot, and there’s bulletproof vests for when we do.”
“Except you don’t wear one all the time,” Boyd argued.
“Because it’d clash with my suits, duuuuh,” Lucas explained playfully, opening the door and slipping inside.
Boyd would make him pay for that sass.
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I'd love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!

“Alright, let’s get one thing straight: I don’t believe in ghosts, I don’t believe in the Easter bunny, and I sure as hell don’t believe in any wooden people.”
At the murky forest’s outer edge, Tom McCann cleared his throat. He waited until me and Dad stopped and faced him head on, then added, “But I’ve got a crew sitting with their thumbs stuck firmly up their arses because there’s fairytale monsters running around out here, so I’m stuck playing your stupid game. Congratulations.”
My father said, “Mr. McCann, I know you think I'm crazy, or a conman, or probably both. But I'm telling you this one final time, it’s not too late to take a bath on whatever money you might lose and find another project.”
Our employer was a muscular man with an even tan, dressed in a tracksuit and white trainers. He wore a large Rolex, which caught the moonlight every time he scratched his thick, utility pole neck. “Are you about done?”
“I am.”
“Good. You wanna get paid tonight?”
“It would sure be nice.”
“Then shut the hell up and do what I hired you to do.”
“Fair enough,” my father replied. He grabbed two flashlights from his pack and tossed one in my direction.
I caught it, a lump already rising in my throat. A maze of warped, crooked trees lay before us, their skeletal boughs thrust together like sweeping arms. I’d never even seen a wooden person before—I didn’t yet know whether I’d have the courage to face one down. My greatest fear, back then, was disappointing my old man.
Dad guided us along where spaces occurred naturally until, a dozen or so paces into the forest, the foliage thinned out.
Over his shoulder, he said, “So tell me Mr. McCann, isn’t Redburn a national heritage site? I’m surprised you got permission to bulldoze the place.”
“Is that how you’re gonna fix this problem? Show these tree people I’ve got the right paperwork?”
“I was just curious. You’re not the first visitor who tried buying up land for cheap.”
Our employer rolled his eyes. “Well, Patrick, the simple fact is this new development is gonna be the magnet that attracts opportunity. The suits are scared of eco-warriors who cry on Facebook, sure, but they also know everything I touch turns to gold.”
“Didn’t the wildlife trust try to stop you?”
“’Course they did. Luckily, I don’t believe in no’s.”
“Huh, that’s funny. I could have sworn the judge said ‘no’ to your appeal about the recovery order. You had to hand over, what was it, 19 apartments?”
“Those fraud charges were about as legitimate as your little wooden friends,” Tom hissed, his voice bitter.
Upset this outsider was belittling our beliefs, I clenched my jaw, tight. Dad, however, just chuckled. The sceptic couldn't rile him up—not my father, unshakeable as an oak tree, tall and rangy with a shock of greying hair and a long, straight nose, same as mine. He said, “If you don’t believe this crap, why come begging me for help?”
“Two things. One, I came asking for help. And two, I’m no mug. I’ve seen this scam before. You locals make up fairy tales and scream cultural heritage—” air quotes accompanied those words—"to extort the evil entrepreneur from the big city. Well, fair warning, if I don’t see some supernatural shit tonight, you aren’t getting a single cent from me. Sound reasonable?”
“Sure does. Fair warning though, I’d strongly advise not letting any wooden person touch you.”
“Oh gee, I’ll try.” Mr. McCann looked down his nose at me. “Ronan, was it? What age are you Ronan?”
“I’m twelve,” I said.
“Twelve, huh? And is that old enough to come ghost hunting?”
“Ronan can take care of himself,” Dad answered. My face flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Besides, theres’s things he needs to learn.”
The trail twisted three times, carrying us through marshy grass, alongside a narrow stream, deeper and deeper into the gloom. From out amongst the endless darkness, I could hear the crunch of dead leaves, the snap of rotten wood.
Above the canopy, where we could see it, the moon drifted in and out from behind thick, billowing clouds. And my electrified nerves jumped at every cry of a tiny animal, barely audible beneath the trees whispering in the breeze.
“Well?” Mr. McCann said, after a minute of silence.
“Well what?” Dad asked.
“Isn’t this the part where you tell me about the tree pixies?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in this stuff?”
“I don’t. But I’m not having the crew rock up tomorrow and say you didn’t do the right magic tap dance to cleanse the evil spirits.”
“What do you know about them already?”
“I know they’re keeping me from stream rolling this shithole.”
Dad ducked beneath a bough. “Is that all?”
“They kill children who wander through the forest late at night, blah blah blah. It’s your boilerplate urban—”
Before the baron could finish a mouse scurried out from beneath a downed log. He yelped, hopping from one foot to the other, a little foxtrot, and got to work trying to stomp the little critter, who moved way too fast.
Without looking back, Dad said, “Don’t worry, I’ve seen braver men than you jump out of their skin out here.”
Despite the pent-up anxiety, I chuckled. My father was enjoying this. A lot.
Mr. McCann muttered something too low to hear.
“Well, the kid things partly true,” Dad said on the far side of a nestle of ferns. “What they actually do is—” his voice trailed off there. “You know what, it’s too spooky. We don’t want Tom running off without any evidence, do we Ronan?”
“Stop milking it and tell the bloody story.”
Dad’s beam of light swept across the ground in low arcs. “Ronan, you wanna take this one?”
Around us, trees closed in from every angle. As we bullied our way along, our cheeks and arms were gouged by the lacings of sharp branches. It felt like the forest kept reaching out, placing hands on us. Almost against my will, I found myself admiring their resemblance to hideously elongated figures.
Side-by-side with the developer, I cleared my throat. “The wooden people are like us. Or, well…some are. Others not so much. Do you know what a doppelganger is?”
“Nooo,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“A doppelganger is—”
“He’s joking Ronan,” Dad said, as he pushed through more scratching bracken. Beyond it, there lay an ocean of leaves, choked in darkness.
I said, “Oh. So, there’s this colony of wooden people who live out here in wooden towns. In the old days, they stayed away from us, and we stayed away from them. People didn’t worry about them. Like hurricanes. If you lived somewhere that gets a lot of hurricanes, you’d probably think about them, but in Ireland we’ve never had a hurricane because it’s not a warm tropical climate, so we don’t worry about them. It was the same with wooden people. It was hard to stumble across them.
“But then we started building cities and railways and stuff. That meant their homes kept getting destroyed. So, they started moving around. But then we started building more stuff so—”
Through a narrow gap, I glimpsed movement and hesitated. A chilly draught sent dead leaves scattering across my boots.
Mr. McCann said, “Let me guess, soon they had so little space they got angry and attacked?”
“Well, no. First they tried to explain their problem.”
“Oh, so our wooden friends speak English? They’re like those talking trees in Game of Thrones are they?” He went and stood beside a nearby birch, pressed his mouth up against a large hollow in its bulbous trunk, and said, “Hey Treebeard, you awake? Mind if I bulldoze this place?” The entrepreneur faced us, grinning, those porcelain teeth prominent against the gloom. “Well waddaya know, he said it’s completely fine.”
In the middle of a patch of dirt and mud and weeds, Dad said, “Quiet, Both of you.”
Branches scraped together roughly as the forest shivered in its various joints.
“What is it, a fox?” Mr. McCann asked.
Dad silenced him with a gesture. From somewhere unseen, whispers rang out. Or maybe it was just the wind. My trembling hand struggled to keep hold of the flashlight. Again and again, I wiped the palm sweat on my jacket and prayed Dad wouldn’t notice.
Dad faced us. “Ronan, you stay here with Mr. McCann. I’m gonna—"
“Oh no,” the cynic fired back. “If I stay put, you’ll go out there, smoke a cigarette, and come out panting like you’ve just performed an exorcism.”
Unable to mask his agitation, Dad exhaled through his nostrils. “You came asking for my help, now I’m giving it to you. Nobody’s trying to rip you off, I promise. You don’t live as part of nature, so you don’t see it, but Ireland is bleeding magic. The world is. And now it’s starting to fight back. If there’s wooden people out here tonight, you’re gonna leave this forest a changed man, believe me. But right now, I need you to listen.”
It was strange to see dad angry; he was usually so even-keeled. To me, he said, “Ronan, I’m going to go ahead and lure them out. Stay here and keep a candle lit in case they come this way.”
From my pack, I grabbed an Olympic-style torch and ignited it with a lighter tucked in the side compartment. The idea of not having Dad around for protection made my neck hairs stir. If the wooden people attacked, it would come down to me to protect us.
My father said, “Remember Mr. McCann, whatever happens, don’t let them touch you.”
This warning was met with an eyeroll.
Flashlight in hand, Dad disappeared behind a cluster of ash trees while I stood there, knees wobbling.
“That’s the trouble with you smalltown folk,” Tom said, once the gloom swallowed Dad whole. “All these superstitions. This development could be a great opportunity, more tax revenue, more jobs. But instead you run around scared of things going bump in the night."
“They’re not superstitions,” I snapped, more forcefully than intended. “And besides, even if they were, animals live here too. Are we just gonna wreck their homes so you can make some money?”
“Kid, you see this?” He tapped his Rolex. “This baby cost 50k. The Aston Martin I arrived in was triple that. Your Dad drives a 3-door hatchback that’s older than you are, I heard that shit-heap sputtering up the road five minutes before you appeared. Here’s some free advice: if you wanna make something of yourself, pull your head out of the clouds.”
At the corner of my eye, a black blob filled the gaps between trees, briefly. After I cleared my throat I said, “Money isn’t everything.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but it is. Why else would your old man be out here? If he was really set on protecting the forest, why take my money to do this phoney cleansing?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I turned away instead.
Another gust of cold air made me shiver. A moment later, there came a trample of dead leaves.
I choked out a feeble, “Dad?”
No response.
“Is this the part where you stage an attack?” Mr. McCann asked, acting bored. But did his voice wobble a little?
Branches stirred as the forest took great, shuddery inhales. It sounded like whispers. The rhythm of my heart quickened.
“It’s a nice trick, I’ll give you that.” Tom did a terrible job at sounding disinterested.
More whispers, behind us now. I said a silent prayer Dad arrived back and then whipped my torch and the flashlight around.
Illuminated by the beam, there stood a huge, tumorous oak tree. From behind it, there came a skitter of rapid steps.
I held out the torch like a shield. “Who’s there?”
My companion hung over me like a shadow, so close his short, quick breaths blasted the back of my neck. What happened to all his bravado?
Barely detectable even with the light, the tree inhaled, exhaled. I stood absolutely still, weapon raised and shaking.
“See?” Mr. McCann stuttered. “It’s nothing. Just the win—”
Before he could finish, a pair of eyes opened, cloudy and pale as though stricken by cataracts. Pressed against the tree a face peered back at us, like a mask made from living bark, and smiled.
Together, Mr. McCann and I screamed. My hands fumbled the torch, which slipped into a patch of mud and extinguished with a wet splatter.
The forest erupted into chatter and whispers. Behind us, up ahead, along both sides. I whipped the flashlight in one direction and the next. Anytime the beam landed on a tree there was yet another face, each grinning like a clowder of Cheshire cats.
In unison, figures stepped away from the trunks. From head to toe they were the texture rough bark, except for those pale eyes. Malignant growths engulfed the skulls, twigs and branches sprouted from shoulders and necks, and some were even dappled with furry moss. Limping with crude joints bent at odd angles, they shuffled toward us.
A screaming Mr. McCann tore off through a narrow gap in the undergrowth. I rushed after him, unable to even think straight.
Waist-deep foliage encroached on both sides of the trail, right up to our ankles. I followed the burly man through a maze of sticks and spears as he barrelled ahead, faster than my legs could carry me.
Out of nowhere, he ground to a halt. As I caught up, the terrified man backstepped from more wooden people, too many to count. He spun on his heels, knocking me aside as he did, only to discover more closing in from behind, cutting off any hope of escape.
Tom choked out a weak, “Please, leave me alone. I’ll give you anything. Money. Jewellery.” He unclipped is Rolex and offered it as a gift. “I’ll never come back here. Please…just…”
Together, they moved forward, limbs outstretched. They were so close now. So very close.
As Mr. McCann’s foot caught on an exposed root, he collapsed backwards into the soil. All our tormenters came to a halt except for one, which continued on until it was close enough to reach out and touch a limb against Tom’s forehead.
On his hands and knees, he spun away, scrambling toward me across the tangled floor. Already his face had sprouted warts. No, not warts—saplings. Buds. The flesh of his cheeks and forehead bubbled, rapidly swelling in sections, while dark patches grew darker still across his neck, his forearms, his eyes, and even his lips. Paralyzed by fear, I could only watch.
Tears opened up along the sleeves of his tracksuit and ran up the shoulders, across the chest, and down the waist. In a matter of seconds Mr. McCann’s limbs became bloated and elongated. His clothes fell to the floor in tattered ruins.
Naked and deformed, he staggered to his feet and shuffled toward me, his screams now fading, his limbs stiff and awkward. Roots sprouted from his feet and grabbed the soil, biting deep, destroying any hope of forward progress. Through unmovable lips, he sputtered, “Help me…please.” Inside his mouth I saw a thick, green carpet.
Within seconds the man became indistinguishable from a small oak tree, one bough forever reaching forward, the branch lacing inches from my throat.
What broke me out of my trance was the sound of puking. Past the tree that had formerly been Mr. McCann, the wooden person that touched him puked up splinters and moss. It’s bark flaked and shed, exposing beige skin underneath. At the end of one limb, a fist opened and closed, revealing a human hand which then tore wood from a skull in huge chunks. Beneath these sections lay human features—nose, ears, lips. The human flexed and cried and gulped for air, a hatchling emerging from its shell.
I was so entranced by this hideous sight I didn’t notice the other wooden people had closed in. After six petrified backsteps, a low branch thicker than an amputated forearm stabbed the small of my lower back. I spun around, heart clawing against my chest, only to discover I’d reversed into the nearest wooden person.
I dropped onto the ground, head buried in my lap. “Please,” I whimpered. “I don’t want to be one of you. Please.”
Even then my thoughts were of Dad, and what he might have thought seeing his son cower in fear like that.
A hush fell over the forest. I took several short, shuddery inhales. That meant my lungs weren’t solid. Yet.
Slowly, I looked up. Wooden figures loomed over me, motionless. The closest one reeled away its limb.
“Let me through.” My father’s voice issued from within the crowd.
“Dad?” I cried.
Figures stepped apart, clearing a path he stepped through. “Ronan.”
I got up and rushed forward and threw myself into his arms, my cheeks wet with tears. “I dropped the torch, I’m sorry, I’m so—”
“Shush, it’s okay.” He put a warm hand on my shoulder, and my nerves eased.
“But Mr. McCann, he—”
“He’s completely fine.” Dad stepped aside. Past his shoulder, a new Mr. McCann pulled on spare clothes Dad brought in his pack.
A dry gulp seized my throat. “We need to run, we need to—”
“It’s okay, we’re not in any danger.” He pulled me in close. “You see son, there’s something you need to know about us. About how I know so much about this place. You and I, Ronan, we were among the first. Years ago, before you were old enough to even remember, our people realized we needed a way to protect ourselves, so I volunteered to go speak with the humans. But they wouldn’t listen. So now we’re pushing back. Against those who want to destroy our home.”
“We’re…we’re wooden people?”
Dad squeezed my hand.
“But what’ll happen to Mr. McCann?”
He gestured toward the tree that was once the real estate mogul. Any hiker who stumbled across it maybe would have made a casual remark about the vaguely human form, the warped portion of bough shaped vaguely like screaming face, forever etched in terror. You could practically hear the silent scream.
Tom McCann—the new Tom McCann—grabbed the discarded Rolex from the dirt and brushed it clean. He gave me a little smile and then clasped the watch around his wrist.
I squeezed dad’s hand even harder. “But couldn’t we have helped him? We could have explained—”
He shook his head. “If we transformed one hundred Tom McCanns, a hundred more would just pop up. We need to replace them, son. All of them, the humans. It’s like I said, the world is bleeding magic. And these flesh bags, they never learn. So, we’re taking over. Not just here, but everywhere. England, Germany, Spain, America.”
He kneeled down, brought himself eye level with me. “Are you ready, son? Will you help us protect this world?”
I brushed away my tears, a new hardness in my stomach. “I will, Dad. I will.”

Hi. I am very interested in Islam and want to convert and become a Muslim but my mom is extremely Islamophobic and it makes it really hard for me to learn more about the religion. If we have pork for dinner and I won’t eat it she will get mad and suspicious. If I am fully covered during summer when it’s warm outside she gets mad and asks me to put on a dress and all my dresses are right around the waist. She told before and I quote “I don’t care care if you marry a woman or a coal black n*****, as long as you don’t marry a Muslim”. She thinks Muslim men are abusive and I’ll be hurt physically if I get into a relationship with one and says it’s normal within Islam to remove a girl’s clitoris when they are born and to marry 12 year old girls away to old men. She says that Islam doesn’t let women have an education and that women are seen as objects and have no freedom. This is obviously not true. She is ignorant and refuses to try and learn and gets so mad at me and yells at me every time I try to defend Islam. It’s so exhausting and I’m scared. I’m a 16 year old girl and I don’t know what to do. Even though she is against Islam, she is my mom and I love and care about her very much and I don’t want her to disown me or hate me if I covert and even if I wait until I’m 18 to live a more halal life she will end up knowing and if she somehow doesn’t then it’s because I lied which I don’t want to do. I think it’s so sad she’s rather me be a lesbian than to be a Muslim. She knows nothing about the religion. She is influenced by western media. I don’t know what to do. I want to buy a Quran but I can’t use card online because I have a teenager card so I’d have to use hers and she would see the purchase and I could buy one in my country but the options aren’t the best because I live in a white/Christian/atheist dominated country and even if I bought one I’m scared she would find it. I don’t know what to do. I feel very uncomfortable going outside in the way I dress and acting the way I do.

I am 17 and my mum won't let me get a haircut or go to Crossfit because I am a woman.
My mum is Christian, conservative and very traditional. My dad is conservative and kinda traditional. My mum became Christian when I was 14 and her whole personality and opinions on everything changed.
I got a pixie cut when I was 12 and have only gotten it trimmed twice since then. It now reaches my waist and I want it cut to my shoulders. Last year I asked and was told no. I fought over it a bit but gave up. Recently I brought it up again. Mum is acting like it is sudden andI am rebelling. She told me to let her talk to dad. I did and he thinks it's fine. She won't listen and says it is a sin and I will look ugly and not feminine. "Men are attracted to women with long hair".
When I was 14 I did Crossfit for a few months and loved it. I don't have any extra curricular activities so I wanted to do it again. When I told my mum she said no. She thinks I will end up big, bulky, masculine and ugly. Another form of "rebellion". I am aiming to loose fat and gain muscle, I will end up thinner. Another reason is that there are men there. Her solution is for my skinny, nerdy 13 y/o brother to chaperone me.
My dad said he is fine with me cutting my hair and he is happy to pay $35 a week for unlimited Crossfit classes. Mum won't listen though and dad doesn't want to argue with her so he doesn't push the issue.
If I try to talk to my dad about topicd my mum and I disagree on even if just to get his opinion she will be mad. She has asked me before if I want to cause problems in their marriage. Told me that it's disobedience and therefore sin.
So, WIBTA and a homewrecker if I had a serious discussion with my dad about how I want my mum to ease up a little? I feel suffocated and frustrated but I seriously don't want to cause problems! My family matters to me and I would feel forever guilty if I did!!
Edit: For those that say to wait till I'm 18, it won't change anything. I am not allowed to move out until marriage and don't have the money because I am not allowed a job. I also won't be able to buy a car and we live too far from anything to walk. My parents won't buy me a car either. I am homeschooled so there isn't anyone that I can reach out to outside of my immediate family.
Edit 2: This definitely went in an unexpected direction... Tbh the idea of leaving scares me and although I desperately want the freedom that would come with it, I'm not even sure if that would help or make things worse. If I left without permission my mum might stop my brothers from talking to me and I love them so much I can't imagine it. Sorry for ranting so much and not really making sense 😓

"Friends", the iconic sitcom that captured the hearts of millions around the world, continues to be a beloved show even years after its final episode aired. With the advent of streaming platforms like HBO Max, fans can now indulge in binge-watching their favorite episodes whenever and wherever they want. However, there may be times when an internet connection is unavailable or unreliable, making it inconvenient to stream. In such cases, downloading "Friends" episodes from HBO Max becomes a fantastic option.
Downloading Friends from the HBO Max APP is easy, but please note that you can only download episodes to your mobile device, how many episodes you can download depends on the memory of your device. If you want to download full seasons of Friends, your best bet is to store them in MP4 format on an SD card or USB drive, and you can transfer these videos to watch on any device. To download Friends in MP4 format, you need a professional third-party tool to help you - TunePat HBOMax Video Downloader is such a trustworthy and powerful tool. With it, you can easily download Friends or any other HBO Max series in MP4 format. In the following, we will introduce TunePat HBOMax Video Downloader in detail and show you how to use it to download full seasons of Friends as MP4 files, allowing you to enjoy the adventures of Rachel, Ross, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe offline.

• Part 1: The Plot for Each Season of Friends
• Part 2: Download Friends as MP4 Files with TunePat
• Part 3: Conclusion

​

The Plot for Each Season of Friends

Before downloading, we will take you to briefly review the plots of each season of Friends, so that you can quickly lock which seasons you need to download. If you want to download all ten seasons in one go, that's perfectly fine too.
Season 1 (1994-1995)
The series begins with six friends living in New York City: Ross, Monica, Chandler, Joey, Rachel, and Phoebe. The season focuses on their lives as they navigate relationships, work, and various comedic situations. Ross is dealing with his recent divorce from his wife, Carol, who left him for another woman. Rachel, Ross's high school crush, enters the group after running away from her wedding. Monica is Ross's sister and is a chef who obsesses over cleanliness and order. Chandler is known for his sarcastic sense of humor, and Joey is an aspiring actor. Phoebe is a quirky musician. Throughout the season, the friends face challenges, make new relationships, and develop a strong bond.
Season 2 (1995-1996)
In the second season, the friends continue to navigate their personal and professional lives. Ross starts dating Julie, which leads to complications with his feelings for Rachel. Monica begins dating Richard, a friend of her parents who is significantly older. Chandler develops feelings for Kathy, Joey's new girlfriend, which strains their friendship. Phoebe discovers that her birth mother is alive and reconnects with her. The season explores the dynamics of friendship, love, and growing up.
Season 3 (1996-1997)
This season delves into the romantic relationships of the friends. Ross breaks up with Julie and confesses his love for Rachel, leading to a complicated on-again, off-again relationship. Monica and Richard break up, and Monica starts dating other men. Chandler struggles with commitment when he meets Janice, his ex-girlfriend. Joey develops feelings for Rachel, which causes tension within the group. Phoebe discovers that her half-brother, Frank Jr., needs a surrogate mother for his triplets. The season explores themes of love, loyalty, and the challenges of adult relationships.
Season 4 (1997-1998)
Ross and Rachel's relationship remains a central focus as they try to navigate their feelings for each other. Monica begins a serious relationship with Chandler, which they initially keep secret from their friends. Joey's acting career starts to gain traction, and he lands a leading role in a soap opera. Phoebe falls in love with a police officer named Gary. Ross's ex-wife, Carol, and her partner, Susan, get married, and Ross becomes more involved in his son Ben's life. The season features comedic misunderstandings, personal growth, and the ups and downs of romantic relationships.
Season 5 (1998-1999)
Ross and Rachel's complicated relationship takes center stage once again as they break up and try to move on. Ross gets married to Emily in London but accidentally says Rachel's name during the wedding ceremony, creating a cliffhanger ending to the season. Monica and Chandler's secret relationship is revealed to their friends, leading to both excitement and complications. Joey's soap opera is canceled, and he takes on various odd jobs to make ends meet. Phoebe begins dating a scientist named David, but her ex-boyfriend Mike re-enters her life. The season explores themes of commitment, trust, and the consequences of past actions.
Season 6 (1999-2000)
The aftermath of Ross's wedding blunder unfolds as he tries to salvage his relationship with Emily. Monica and Chandler move in together and face the challenges of living as a couple. Rachel starts a new job at Ralph Lauren and develops feelings for her colleague Mark, causing tension with Ross. Joey falls in love with his new roommate, Janine, but their relationship doesn't last. Phoebe begins dating Mike, and they eventually get engaged. The season showcases the evolving dynamics among the friends, their professional endeavors, and the pursuit of love and happiness.
Season 7 (2000-2001)
Monica and Chandler decide to get married, leading to a wedding planning frenzy. However, they face hurdles along the way, including Chandler's cold feet and the revelation that Monica wants to have children. Ross and Rachel's complicated relationship continues as they struggle with their feelings for each other. Phoebe and Mike's wedding plans also hit a bump when Phoebe discovers that Mike never officially divorced his previous wife. Joey lands a leading role in a movie, but it ultimately fails, impacting his acting career. The season explores the complexities of commitment, marriage, and the challenges of maintaining friendships.
Season 8 (2001-2002)
Monica and Chandler face difficulties when they try to conceive a child, leading them to explore other options. Ross becomes involved in a love triangle between Rachel and his girlfriend, Bonnie. Eventually, Ross and Rachel decide to give their relationship another try. Phoebe becomes a surrogate mother for her brother Frank Jr. and his wife, Alice. Joey falls for Rachel but realizes his feelings are unrequited. The season showcases the characters' personal growth, the exploration of parenthood, and the resilience of friendships.
Season 9 (2002-2003)
Monica and Chandler finally receive the news that they have been chosen as adoptive parents, leading to a series of emotional and comedic moments. Ross and Rachel navigate their relationship as they become parents to their daughter, Emma. Phoebe and Mike plan their wedding, which leads to a heartwarming ceremony. Joey's acting career takes a major hit when his TV show is canceled, and he embarks on a journey to find new opportunities. The season explores themes of family, commitment, and the challenges of balancing personal and professional lives.
Season 10 (2003-2004)
The final season of Friends focuses on the characters' journeys towards new beginnings. Monica and Chandler prepare to move out of their apartment and start a family, while Rachel accepts a job offer in Paris. Ross realizes his feelings for Rachel and tries to stop her from leaving. Phoebe and Mike get married, and Joey finds success with a new TV show. The season concludes with the friends saying goodbye to their iconic apartment, and Ross and Rachel finally confess their love for each other. The series ends on a bittersweet note as the friends go their separate ways, but with the assurance that their bond will endure.

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Thorfinn is Naive, stupid & most of all, SELFISH. I need to see your perspective on what I'm saying here. I'm hoping you all can enlighten me in some way with a different perspective I haven't thought about that can change my mind on this.
I'm not hating on thorfinn...I'm just calling it as it is. I've initiated debates with people and no one gives any valid reasons to think otherwise except accuse me of being into shounen battles LMFAO
The most valid argument I've seen is that thorfinn is a representation of an ideal. And that eventually he will probably die if the story is realisticin other words he will pay for his pacisfism.
I understand thorfinn has been hurt by war...I understand he saw terrible things and the author hates violence and its a cool concept that we have a pacifist main character.. I think there are no issues with the fact thorfinn has embarked on his mission to create a peaceful land without injustice.
Here is why I think he's a Dumbo, Naive and most of all SELFISH. Why even bother reproducing? Why bother bringing a wife along for the journey?..you've seen first hand the scumbags in war. Youve seen men grape woman and fall asleep like a baby next to her lifeless body. You've seen these men never regret their actions.
Thorfinn admits he will keep RUNNING from violence to Canute. Fair...but why haven't you taught your people how to fight? Why do you have no weapons? It's fully logical for Einar to question thorfinn about war but all thofinn says is
"Meh it Won't happen if you don't think about it...STOP MANIFESTING!"
Like what?... there are men who aren't willing to be reasoned with and thorfinn will raise his fist yes. But what happens when they just keep coming back with more people till they eventually overestimate your power. Thorfinn including his people aren't immortal.
What happens if thorfinn goes out for milk? What's he going to return home to? His wife with her pants down bent over a table with tears in her eyes, a Slit throat and vikings laughing eating the tuna sandwich she made him for lunch? Whatll he do then? Probably thank them I bet knowing him and hope they just leave.
By starting a family, you've endangered your child's life because you're not willing to kill for him. I bet thorfinn would rather die than kill someone even if those people won't kill his son. That's stupid.
The goal of a father is to protect and nourish his child at any cost. Even if that means sacrifice of himself or someone else. Being a good person and being a good father are quite different
Thorfinn should've stayed a good person and not get an innocent child involved his stupid mission to teach his child a stupid lesson that thorfinn REALISTICALLY should die a horrible death for(I'm not saying he deserves a horrible death...I'm saying him dying makes perfect sense though LOGICALLY in their world)
Running doesn't always work and you will HIT A WALL HARD. If you aren't willing to kill for your son because you hate violence. That's called prioritizing your trauma over your child's life.
THAT IS SELFISH. Creating "vinland" is not selfish. But his METHODS of doing it are UNREALISTIC and selfish.
Thorfinn doesn't STOP violence by taking 100 punches to the face... he just takes the violence onto himself but the violence STILL EXIST.
Thorfinn isn't Christian..thorfinn doesn't think about life after death.. if he did then that would change things. Christians don't believe in death...it's simply the relocation of the spirit which is raw consciousness to an extent on a deeper level than the brain can supply physically.
Thorfinn doesn't believe that so this life from his perspective is all he and his people have. And he's teaching them essentially. It's better to be tortured and murdered horribly aswell as let your loved ones be tortured/murdered horribly as long you don't defend yourself even if that means killing someone. That's what thorfinn is teaching his people
Correct me if I'm wrong. But this is my rant I need some explanation on. No I don't care about the fights but the message is unrealistic to me. Thorfinn is an ideal yes... but he is also the embodiment story wise of a "true warrior" arguably more than Canute.
But in all honesty to me he just seems like the embodiment of a selfish, dumb, Naive person who prioritizes his trauma over logic and his own flesh and blood and those close to him to rely on him.
Sometimes his pacifism makes sense. But honestly that viking had no reason to not go to 101 hits realistically. He had honor and in real life thorfinn would've taken 101+ hits. That wasn't so bad at the tine because thorfinn didn't have a wife and kids. Although he probably would've gotten Einar killed if the men weren't honorable.
I think thorfinn teaches a horrible lesson unless he dies then the story redeems itself. He now is obligated to either change his pacifism or die for the story to make sense. He isn't a true warrior even if he subjectively THINKS he is including his father who was also wrong & right but more right than thorfinn.
Thors decision to let askeadd kill him made sense because he didn't want his village pillaged if he had killed askeladd. Plus the other vikings would've killed everyone else on the boat more than likely. So his decision made but I'm sure even if the king wouldn't have done this going after thors village in Iceland, thors would've still let askeladd kill him over simply beheading askeladd. And that's stupid that he'd prefer that over being able to provide for his family.
Thorfinn having a family is selfish if had a family just for the sake of creating vinland. If thorfinn had a chikd just to take his role up and try creating a peaceful land. That is selfish. A better person than a father
Thorfinn isn't a true warrior right now.. he's just controlled by his trauma. Tge same way he was before when askeladd was alive. He was controlled by his trauma on one extreme of the spectrum when he felt immense hate. Now he's on the other extreme of the spectrum with peace. He's certainly better than he was before but not by much just in the opposite way.
It can be argued that if thorfinn was willing to use a blade against snake, he could've saved gardar but instead he blames the fact that gardar died on the idea that he fought snake to begin with... when in reality snake would've just killed gardar even sooner if thorfinn had never fought. Thorfinn is no true warrior.i don't want him to die cuz I do like him and I wish well om people like that..but I find his philosophy stupid and dumb despite the story narrative implying thorfinn is ACTUALLY ONTO SOMETHING. He's onto NOTHING except death including his loved ones and it would be MOSTLY his fault when he was COMPLETELY capable of limiting death of his loved ones. Unless he changes his morals
That's my perspective. Enlighten me with your perspectives. Is thorfinn not SELFISH? he's not a coward I know that.

Hey all,
Back at it again after just now finishing Double Agents. A definite overall improvement over last season, but one that is still a bit of a slog to get through and not without its flaws. Let’s discuss.
Disclaimer: At this stage I have only seen seasons 5-36 of The Challenge, plus the VS spinoffs. Please refrain from spoiling any other seasons, or returning players. Thanks :)
TL;DR Summary
Double Agents continues with the skull twist introduced last season, forcing people to enter and win an elimination if they want to make it to the final. Whilst they try to tweak this twist to create a better season, it still negatively impacts things overall. The cast is pretty solid, but the boot order is rough and has a major alliance dominate through the whole season WotW2 style. There are a few standout characters which bring life to an otherwise boring season, and daily challenges are mostly ok. Eliminations quickly got old with the same set of 5 reused over and over, albeit with a few tweaks. Fortunately it has an incredible, tough final unlike something we’ve seen in recent memory (not counting WotW), and winners which feel mostly satisfying.
The Good

• The opening half of the season was genuinely quite entertaining and good
• Devin and Kyle are in strong form this season - fantastic commentary and entertainment
• Theresa brings it her whole time on the season
• Big T has a major breakout season, having her true MC moment
• The format is actually pretty interesting and good, outside of the skull twist.
• The final is fantastic - tough, entertaining and hits all the nails on the head
• Amber has a really satisfying and strong win

The Not So Good

• … but I don’t feel as strongly about CT taking another win - I want new winners!
• The season is way too long - I’ve just looked at the cast again and I forgot half of the people that were here.
• The skull twist yet again eventually causes people to line up and ‘take their turn’ - boring!
• Fessy is quite possibly my most hated contestant in recent memory.
• The season is boring and predictable, especially after the halfway point.
• Eliminations get old - and Hall Brawl is ridiculously overused. Like c’mon Fessy getting to do it twice?
• Some strange or dodgy production decisions - the first elimination not being mens - the third Hall Brawl not being mens (and giving us Kyle v CT), Fessy being allowed to stay in the game after the Nelson HB, etc.
• Too many medical DQs

The format
The format this season is equal parts good and bad.
It’s a partners season with shifting teams. Male/female teams are initially self-selected at the start of the season after the first challenge. I quite liked how they left it up to the contestants to choose their first partner - good drama and some really cool teams came out of it. These teams would not stick it out though, as the season introduced multiple twists to allow shifting and changing.
As always, we had our usual daily challenges, where teams compete, in their duos, for a win. The winners of a challenge become our ‘Double Agents’ for the week. After the challenge, everyone beside the Double Agents would participate in nominations to discuss who they want to put up for elimination. Individually, all contestants would then vote for the team they want to send into elimination (anonymously)
Following these noms, the Double Agents are privately shown the nominated team as well as all individuals that voted to send them in. They are then given the power to send in their opponent after arriving to the elimination arena and seeing the game.
Eliminations shake out like usual, albeit with a limited pool of games this season, but are played individually in male/female days rather than as duos. After an individual is eliminated, a few things happen. The losing contestants partner becomes a ‘Rogue Agent’ and will be left alone, unable to compete, until a new partner pops up in the next episode as a result of THAT elimination. The winning individual of the elimination can either stay with their partner, take the losing individual’s partner, or steal ANY other partner on the show, except for the Double Agents.
If this alone was the format - top tier. Whilst I loved some of those initial teams, the ability for them to shift around was fantastic. I loved seeing the drama involved with picking new partners, and how it forced some unlikely duos together.
Unfortunately, the winner of the elimination also gets… a skull… and this is what is required in order to run the final. They openly state a limited number of skulls this season, but it doesn’t do too much to alleviate the issues introduced by this twist last season. Everyone just lines up to take their turn in the elimination, and it slows down the season and makes it a struggle to get through. I hope to never see this twist again - it takes out so much unpredictability.
The cast
Look the cast is overall good this season. There are some flops but we have some great people around, and a season without Bananas at that. Unfortunately the boot order is a bit tough to watch - we lose a lot of the entertainment due to the dominant, bland alliance, and so the cast slowly gets worse over. I’ve got a LOT of contestants to get through so might try to keep things a bit briefer.
CT: I’ve been on a bit of a rollercoaster with CT lately. I keep wanting to see the CT we saw upon his initial return - that stint around Rivals - Exes 2. But I think the fact of the matter is that he’s different yet again. I found him to honestly be a little dull at times this season. The first 3/4s he really didn’t provide a whole lot. Then you DO get the drama with Big T, his showdown with Fessy, and his eventual win with Amber, so things do come around in the end and his win is cathartic if only because he wasn’t part of that majority alliance all season. I also like the full circle moment of him taking a win in Iceland after Exes (which I BELIEVE was also there?). I would have enjoyed a new winner on the male side though... getting Turbo/Rogan was nice, but it feels like we’re falling back into familiar territory with Jordan/Bananas/CT winning.
Amber: I really enjoyed watching and rooting for Amber this season. Her initial partnership with Darrell was fantastic, and one of my favourite pairings of the season. Unfortunately, she for some reason gets shafted by the edit through 80% of the season and barely gets to show any personality or narration capabilities. I love that she got to shine a bit more in the final few episodes though, winning the two (admittedly easy) Hall Brawls, and absolutely SMASHING that tough final. She in no way had to lean on her partner, crushing almost all aspects of the final and putting in a memorable finish and win - love seeing a rookie come through and take the crown. I really hope to see more of her, perhaps in more of a main character role, in the future.
Cory: Loved seeing Cory make a deep run again. Whilst he WAS aligned with the majority alliance, and thus pretty safe all season, he’s a great confessionalist that has only improved over time, and provides fantastic narration through this whole season. He’s also really funny in confessionals this time around, calling out the antics in the house in his trademark style. Loved to see him earn a little bit of money ‘for his family’, and was dying at his rotating door of female partners all season. A good Cory season.
Kam: Much like CT I find I am often on a bit of a rollercoaster with Kam. I think I prefer seeing her need to scrap from the bottom, because I found it hard to root for her this season as the leader of the majority alliance. She dominated from start to finish, and for someone that loves an underdog, it often put me in a position where I’d be rooting against her, and even disliking her. Her arrogance sometimes rubs me the wrong way, even though it IS sometimes earnt with how she has played in the past. In the end though, I came back around on her and was able to appreciate her presence and gameplay this season. I enjoyed seeing her take 2nd place too.
Leroy: Leroy’s ‘final’ season (tbd if that proves to be true or not), and what a way to go out. He may not have won, liked he set out to do, but this is Leroy’s best season through and through. He has agency over the game, and without Bananas to lead the pack, steps up alongside Kam to make decisions and actually have a say. It’s refreshing to see from him, and I enjoyed his usual placement as the ‘straight man’ amongst the antics of his house. Again, his placement in that majority often made it hard to get behind his plight, but I’m happy for his performance this season and think this will be a great way for him to finish his challenge career, if that proves to be true. Great daily performances alongside Kaycee, and a commendable final effort. Probably would have liked to see him secure the win here, although if that meant a Nany win I wouldn’t have been super happy.
Nany: Speaking of Nany… gosh since her return I’ve liked her less with each appearance. She had some really awful moments last season and continued to showcase some bad personality traits this time around, yet again betraying one of her ‘best friends’ Aneesa. Her proximity to the Big Brother alliance, even more so than Kam/Leroy due to how ingrained she is, also puts a big taint on her character, as Josh, Fessy and to a lesser extent Kaycee aren’t my favourite contestants at the moment. I hate that he storyline is the EXACT SAME every season. Line for line I feel like she has the same confessionals every time ‘I’m finally here to take my win after x seasons’.
Fessy: Holy crap. I actually haven’t outright hated someone on The Challenge in a long, long time. There was Paulie, sure, but I LOVED to hate on him. Fessy is my least favourite contestant in recent memory, and it’s not even close. Firstly, he has to be the least-charismatic villain the show has ever seen. He has the personality of a wet towel, and combined with his inflated sense of self and arrogance, it gives us a truly hateable contestant. He belittled and blamed his female contestants all season long, and then when he finally gets his ‘first choice’, he gives up in the final and tries to gaslight it into being Kaycee’s fault. Seeing him place last in the final was FANTASTIC, and I LOVED that everyone dogged on him for his choices. Production included with that fantastic Karma Chameleon needle drop. His ego is ridiculous, and I think he should have been DQed after his actions in that Nelson Hall Brawl. Just ridiculous and unsafe. The fact that he was allowed to compete in a second HB after that is an awful choice on production’s end. I need him to get humbled in elimination BAD. Preferably a physical one.
Kaycee: My feelings towards Kaycee are much, much less severe that Fessy. Kaycee suffers from just being boring. She’s completely likeable, and she seems cool. She’s a great competitor. But her personality doesn’t feel geared towards the challenge, and for someone making it so deep two season in a row, I’d hope to see a bit MORE from her. Whether this is productions’ fault or her own is yet to be seen, but if she continues to be on the show I’d love to see some more entertainment from her. I felt horrible for her in the final though, and was genuinely sad to see her go out that way, even if I was satisfied with Fessy losing.
Kyle: One of the three shining points of entertainment this season - Kyle is in strong form. He’s never in the majority, and often getting betrayed by the minority, and so we get Kyle playing this scrappy game all season long. He’s fantastic in confessionals this season, it’s almost a stand-out for him, providing non-stop comedy both there and in the house itself. His heart and determination is on display yet again too, following his injury in the final Hall Brawl of the season against Fessy. I would have loved to see Kyle take this one home this season - I truly do feel like he has it in him to win. I’ll be highlighting many Kyle quotes and moments below.
Big T: Yet another shining point of entertainment this season. I’ve mentioned how much I’ve enjoyed Big T in her fleeting moments on the previous two seasons, and I absolutely loved seeing her get a main-character season this time around. She is one of our main narrators and storylines from the get-go, quickly ending up as CTs partner and giving us a fantastic story of triumph and building confidence. She goes through ups and downs with CT as a partner when he leaves her for Kam, and eventually makes his way back, but all throughout she remains likeable and such a bright presence. Unfortunately I don’t think she’s ever going to be a winning threat… but in terms of entertainment value and personality, I think she should continue to do many more Challenges.
Darrell: Alongside Amber, Darrell gets done DIRTY this season. We have one of the most iconic vets of the game, and he’s reduced to a few fleeting confessionals here and there, with nothing in between? So disrespectful of Production. Darrell is absolute gold in confessionals, and the ones he DOES get are almost always memorable and fun. I wish we would have seen even more of him, and his relationship with Amber. One of the only true partnerships this season imo, never betraying each other and always being supportive.
Aneesa: This is going to surprise some of you based on how I’ve spoken about Aneesa over her last few appearances, but I actually think she brought it this season. She’s no physical-threat, or winning-threat, but entertainment-wise I actually think she was memorable. She won multiple dailies, with different partners, and earnt a gold skull as well, against Tori of all people, even if her eventual elimination performance is dreadful. The relationship with Fessy as her partner, as well as Kyle after switching, were both fantastic in different ways. Fessy because it was GREAT to see him constantly handicapped, and Kyle because they genuinely worked well together and had great chemistry. One of Aneesa’s more memorable seasons in a long time.
Nam: I feel so bad for Nam. Having Lolo as a partner for most of the season and then getting DQed with an injury. He was a little boring, but I’d like to see him back to get another shot. I think he could bring something given a better starting hand.
Gabby: I liked Gabby. I don’t think she’s anything crazy or unique from what we’ve seen before, but she had a strong confessional style and was able to speak well. Kinda hate that she eventually gave in an hooked up with Mr. Introvert though.
Josh: Josh this season was how I remembered Josh from Big Brother. It’s taken a while, but he’s gone from surprisingly ok back to what I first thought of him - loud, obnoxious and annoying. Fortunately, his presence this season was appreciated because he had a fantastic foil to his personality in Devin. The Devin v Josh stuff was the highlight of the season entertainment-wise. And seeing the true side of Fessy this season makes Josh look likeable in comparison.
Lolo: Wow, what an absolute flop. Lolo showed so much promise on the VS spin-off and is a complete let-down this season. She pretty much whinges from Day 1 when things aren’t going her way and constantly blames Nam for everything happening. And then she just quits? What a fail. They should have brought back Louise.
Devin: Devin’s first season in a little while, and what a memorable one. He almost single handedly makes the first half of this season. Much like with Bananas, he just has a way of getting under people’s skin like nobody else can. I LOVE it. The way he played Josh over and over and over never ceased making me laugh. ‘Big brother sucks’, ‘what’s 8x9’ and many more will be referenced further a bit below. He was comedy gold this season and the entertainment value dropped off significantly after his boot. Also adds Wes to his surprising elimination win list.
Amber M: Amber had quite a bit of exposure through the first half of the season - quite a bit of drama surrounding her and her relationship with Devin and others, but she ultimately didn’t lead enough of an impact to be all that memorable.
Mechie: Mechie seemed like a good person and the small insights we got into his backstory were good, but he’s not built for The Challenge and I’d be pretty surprised if we see him again.
Theresa: Theresa was an absolute STAR this season. This is my favourite season of hers ever. She may not have made it deep but she brought back her signature personality matched with a bit more maturity and it hit all the right notes for me. She was smart, feisty, and unafraid to back down from the major alliance. I loved her relationship with Jay and was rooting hard for the two of them to make a deep run.
Jay: As mentioned with Theresa, out of the whole season I was rooting the most for Theresa/Jay. I loved both of them and thought they complemented each other really well. It was nice to see Jay make it a little further than usual - he always seems to get targeted for his size, and he continued to be targeted this season, but he was fortunately able to make it a little deeper. Really likeable, love his never-back-down attitude. He’s a great player and I’d love to see him become a staple to the point where he isn’t targeted as much and can play the game a bit longer.
Ashley: Ashley was literally in and out of the house not once but TWICE. It’s a shame Ashley leaves so many seasons early because you can’t say she doesn’t bring drama and personality.
Lio: Nothing really to say about Lio - I don’t follow WWE so had no attachment to him, and he’s pretty low-key on the season up until leaving.
Tori: A surprising early finish for Tori, especially considering she lost to Aneesa. It was nice having her out a little early. We’ve seen a lot of her lately and I probably didn’t want to see a whole season of her again this soon.
Nelson: A brutal exit for Nelson. I think he got unlucky off the bat getting a rookie and things went downhill from there when he’s blindsided by Fessy to secure his own gold skull. A lot of heart shown by Nelson in that hall brawl despite the matchup. I wish Fessy would have been DQed here and Nelson stay in the game in his place.
Natalie A: Another Survivor on the show! And another Survivor to bring it. I really like Natalie, and her pairing with Wes was a dream come true. They have very similar personalities and ways of playing the game. Devastated that she had to go home for an emergency and I really hope we get to see her back in the future.
Wes: As said, a dream pairing for him with Nat A, but such a lacklustre season from him. I would have loved to see Devin, Kyle, Wes run that little minority, but instead we get a bit of a half-assed attempt from Wes where his head isn’t in the game. Wes’ appearances seem to go one way or the other lately: a deep run or out early. Lame.
Liv, Joseph I actually can’t remember, despite watching these early episodes less than three weeks ago. Oops.
Nicole Z: Wtf?!?! I was keen to see Nicole Z and then she’s medically removed so early? Absolutely brutal. I think her pair-up with Devin would have been interesting to see develop further.
The challenges
The dailies
We get some pretty interesting dailies this season, and some which are quite unique. Not all of them are memorable, but some of my favourites:

• Decryption: I love me an all out brawl for the first challenge of a season. In male and female heats, contestants have to run up a mound to grab a single capture and memorise a key to a puzzle. A good opener to the season.
• Road Kill: This caused a few injuries that would affect individuals on the season, but it was a fun challenge nonetheless. Brawls between two duos are held on top of a moving truck, with the aim to push each other off the side into a suspended net. Good stuff.
• Drone Control: I needed to mention this because it was so low budget and dumb. I hated it. One contestant wears a VR headset whilst the other is blindfolded and must control a drone streaming it’s view to the headset. They need to coordinate to reach the end of a tunnel. So lame.
• Agent Down is pretty good - one team member hangs from a ledge whilst the other must pull out 200m of rope before they can grab onto their partner and help them hang. Big T’s facial expressions here had me dying, and loved the heart and drive Jay/Theresa put into almost winning this.
• Aerial Takedown had the chance to be so cool, but is inevitably thrown away by the entire male side of the house aside from Jay, and some of the female side too. In male/female heats contestants hold onto the side of a large cargo net being carried by a helicopter, and must fight to be last on changing. Instead of a good brawl we just get people playing for skulls and alliances though. Lame.
• All Brawl is the kind of challenge we need more of. Just chuck them into a mud pit more often, it’s always good TV. Male/female heats again, players need to search a giant mud pit for a single large X. It was cool to see the strategy from Nam/CT and a lesser extent Theresa here. Also Lolo sulking because of physical contact.
• Survive the Night is literally built up for THREE episodes. It’s teased in, say episode 1, then episode 2 ends before the challenge has ever begun, and then it’s finally played in episode 3. And then it’s not even good. For all the spectacle and design of the challenge, it ends up flopping with the likes of Kam refusing to play to try and earn Leroy the win. And suss that no-one was penalised for not trying here when almost the whole house cops a penalty after Aerial Takedown.
• Undercover is a stunning challenge, involving swimming along a line between two tectonic plates. Beautiful scenery and location, it was so cool. Kyle/Aneesa clutching the win was fantastic. Fessy blaming Nany when he kicked her in the face to begin with was not fantastic. Also he tried to pull her back down to the line when she was going up for a breath what is WRONG with this man.
• Global Domination: Big flop. Teams just rolling in balls working together.

Ok I take back what I said most of these dailies SUCKED. I don’t know what I was on. Sure, there’s a couple nice ones. All Brawl is good, Road Kill is good, Decryption is good. But half the time everyone just works together or the challenge is bland/predictable.
The eliminations
I struggled with the eliminations this season. For such a long season, we only had six different eliminations, and some of them weren’t interesting or enjoyable to watch. I’ll touch on all of them though because they all have something worth mentioning:

• Fire Escape: We’ve seen it before - players are suspended upside down from a horizontal pole by their arms and legs and need to shimmy back and forth to the end and back. Throughout the season it gets increasingly harder with the addition of mounds/obstacles to move the ropes around. Jay v Leroy is a fantastic showdown here, with Leroy smashing through the back half. Bummed because Jay would have beaten literally anybody else at this. And then Big T gets her moment finishing and winning this, admittedly against Aneesa who just hung there, but still.
• Ring of Spies: Probably should have been more memorable than it was. It was essentially Pole Wrestle with a ring that you needed to get to a ‘goal’. It was ok, but I wouldn’t say Kyle v Joseph nor Nany v Gabby are memorable here.
• Snapping Point: This started off strong, much like reverse tug-of-war. Players are attached with a rope and must race around a few posts before rushing towards a button. At some point the rope runs out of slack and it turns into an endurance battle. Devin with the surprise upset over Wes here, Kaycee with the unfortunate win over Theresa, and then for the third time they, for some reason, make the rope longer? This completely removes the endurance portion of the challenge as the rope has enough slack to straight up reach the button, giving Cory a free win against Darrell due to his speed.
• Hall Brawl: I’ve decided that Hall Brawl probably shouldn’t be played anymore. It can be entertaining, see Zach v CJ, Rogan v Nelson, Theo v Kyle, but that’s because those are all EVEN matchups. More often than not it has been a steamroll lately, and it leads to, not only boring viewing, but the high possibility of injury too. Fessy should be banned from ever playing Hall Brawl again because his actions against Nelson were horrifying, tearing off his protective visor, rubbing dirt in his face and generally being an awful person and competitor. He’s then allowed to go BACK in where he dislocated Kyle’s finger in the first around. God his smugness at winning Hall Brawl’s makes me sick, considering it’s probably one of the only eliminations he easily wins every time because he’s a meathead. Amber B completely rolls over Amber M, and then again over Big T. No good Hall Brawls this time.
• Asset Destruction was just fine. A large cart of heavy balls needs to be pulled down a track and then tipped over, before they are used to smash a series of targets. I don’t know what happened with Tori’s cart, but ANEESA of all people teaches her a lesson. We also get Josh (and Mechie) being absolutely abysmal at this, giving us some fantastic comedy.
• Dead Ringer again, was just fine. I wasn’t a huge fan. It involves swinging out from a platform, attached to a rope, to collect rings and hook them onto towers. The later version of it introduces a puzzle as well. None of these matchups are interesting though, although Josh getting sent home is a cathartic experience.

The final
Dailies, mostly average. Eliminations, mostly average.
But the FINAL?!? ‘Finally, some good fucking food’
This Final was fantastic. It’s easily the best one since War of the Worlds, and I preferred the spectacle and visuals (location) of this one over WotW. It’s a beautiful final played over a rocky coastline, it incorporates a stunning ice cave, and is played at the tail end of a hurricane. The conditions are brutal, timing generally matters, and the first person to make it to TJ is the winner.
We had running/endurance along beautiful Icelandic coastline, a brawling checkpoint which recreated the first Decryption challenge (alright, that reuse is a bit lame), an eating checkpoint where Amber gets a glorious blood-beard, a kayaking portion, and overnight portion in a stunning locale, with an endless dripping of water and mental torture, some puzzles. It really ticked all the boxes and felt tough. CT and Amber’s win feels earned.
It was just a great final all-around. One of the best episode of the season I think, and if this is the new standard of final, I’m all for it. Makes me really reminiscent to like, the Rivals 1/2 or Exes final. Keen for more like this.
Random remaining thoughts from throughout the season

• The Agents theme was sometimes ok… and sometimes a little corny and lame: ‘I’m your handler’ and ‘I’ve created a secret dead drop somewhere worth 1 million’
• Leroy and Kam were a great relationship on the show - we haven’t had a couple as compelling since CT / Diem (rip)
• CT ending up with someone’s shoe and throwing it in Wes’ face was PEAK Challenge. The edit was fantastic. TJ laughing was fantastic. Wes not knowing it was CT. So good.
• Aneesa being the overall winner of the first challenge is insane, and then she picks Fessy, I was DEAD.
• I initially thought it was weird eliminations were played individually. Also thought it was very suss that the first elimination is a girls day and saves Wes and CT
• Devin, whispering: “Kyle… I can’t understand my partner.”
• Wes: ‘Let’s start with the facts. I am indeed rich’
• THE CRATER. Why did I not talk about this above. The location of the elimination arena inside a crater is incredible. So cool.
• Visuals/landscape of the truck challenge were incredible - the black, sandy landscape looked so cool.
• Darrell: ‘Lio doing Sonic the Hedgehog moves’
• The truck wrestle montage set to ‘More, More, More’ was great.
• The whole ‘Big Brother Sucks’ incident between Devin and Josh is perhaps my favourite altercation in recent memory. I was DYING. From the titular use of ‘Big Brother Sucks’ for some reason riling up Josh SO much, to ‘Hey Josh, what’s 8x9’ - it’s all so good. And the confessional commentary ‘He’s now foaming at the mouth. Crying. RAGING. Because I said BB sucks’
• Tori crying inconsolably whilst Devin is smiling from stealing her - loved it.
• Devin asking Amber to leave the room because she doesn’t belong - bit rude.
• Nelson wakes up Devin: ‘Amber comes in crying to me bro, crying on my shoulder’. Devin, just waking up ‘This can’t be real’
• Josh threatening Jay ‘This energy I’m feeling. Don’t make an enemy out of me’ - bro shut up.
• ‘Jay: ‘I’m not like these other contestants I will step in your mouth b*tch’ to Josh
• ‘I’m not going to fight you bro I’m not an idiot. Let’s sit down like adults and talk about this’ - Josh sulks and leaves. ‘A big baby’
• Fessy picking up slamming Nelson, lifting his visor and rubbing dirt in his eyes!? ‘Fessy there’s no more dirty play’ - that’s it? The whole Hall Brawl was just awful behaviour from Fessy and should have resulted in an immediate DQ.
• CT: ‘Cmon let me see that mean face.’ Big T: ‘ooooueeeuhhhhggg’
• Big T executing her plan of Aneesa v Tori, leading to Tori floundering and going home - fantastic stuff.
• Devin mooning Fessy through the glass
• ‘I just wanna punch his head’ ‘I know but we can’t because he’s a man child and it’s not worth it’
• CT gaslighting Theresa and saying he never agreed on Darrell’s name in front of everyone, when he did - brutal for Theresa.
• Theresa taking about her post-partum depression to audience and Cory - loved how real she was with this, and how open to talk about it on such a big platform.
• Devin setting up the Big Brother sucks VIP lounge after winning the challenge I CAN’T
• Lolo crying about not wanting to have Nam as a partner. Cut to Darrel ‘ain’t my problem’
• Devin trash talking Josh after he fails at the boat rope ‘And that’s how you do it ladies and gentlemen. Another star studded performance from Josh’ followed by Devin doing the exact same thing.
• ‘Give me the goof’
• ‘We’re gonna need to get Josh another pair of pants’ ‘Bro I’m not scared to be down here’
• ‘Josh we’ve got more in common than we thought my man’ ‘F*ck off Devin
• CT did Big T so dirty. Wanting to leave for another partner, fair enough. But approach the situation with some respect for your current partner. The way he shouts out Kam and acts like an obnoxious tool was hard to watch. I felt so bad for Big T. And then his drunken, slurred apology later completely flops when he approaches it in such a negative way. Worst look for CT in quite a long time
• ‘NAny, I’m home! What a trip, I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to headquarters’ - Kyle to Nany
• Kam: ‘It’s rubbing me the wrong way, I don’t want to be with anyone that isn’t humble’ - kind of the pot calling the kettle black. Kam is anything BUT humble.
• TJ trying to hold in laughter whilst Kyle outwardly reacts to getting Aneesa had me absolutely DYING. TJ literally had tears in his eyes trying to keep his composure. ‘I hate this game’ ‘Oh hi Aneesa’
• Fessy saying he’s better than CT and that the competition wasn’t the same - he’s taking the crown. ‘If we have to run, so long. It’s a wrap bro’ - what the actual hell is this delusional mess going on about. LOVE, in hindsight, that CT ends up winning this season after this interaction.
• Leroy: ‘Fessy doesn’t know that A, CT will whoop his ass, B CT is a much better player in this game and C, CT will whoop his ass’
• All season I was gobsmacked why Fessy was such a hot commodity? At this point he’s proven nothing except he can beat Jordan in Pole Wrestle with a literal one hand advantage, and Nelson in Hall Brawl. And yet everyone wants Fessy as their partner after he flopped last final. Absurd to me. CT, Darrel are right there all season long.
• Fessy whining because Amber can’t do the math challenge - grow up.
• Final announcement with Final Countdown and TJs ‘Let’s f*cking go’ - epic moment
• Fessy, to Cory: ‘We’re a different breed, me and you bro’ dude what do you MEAN. If by different breed, you’re referring to your entertainment-value, then fair enough because we’ve never seen someone this bad. Don’t lump Cory into that though.
• Running up that Hill needle dropped by The Challenge before Strange Things made it cool - loved it. Great musical moment with Kaycee getting tended to by the medics.
• ‘Go ahead and play the montage of me throwing up right here’
• Fessy using Kaycee’s knee as an excuse to not eat. He’s actually such a grub. Kaycee is standing there, tears in her eyes, eating and ready to keep playing, and Fessy just refuses and uses her as an excuse. No compassion at all
• Leroy to Fessy: Pusssssssyyyyyy
• TJ saying ‘alright you’re good’ and Amber immediately vomiting in front me him ‘that’s disgusting’
• Karma Chameleon drop after Fessy quits - possibly best song choice so far.
• ‘Fessy is not going to own any of this, we already know. Put Fessy’s interview right here saying I would’ve won if not for Kaycee’ - comedy gold from Cory.

Conclusion
And there we have it. Fortunately Double Agents is an improvement over Total Madness. It’s nowhere near a perfect season and struggles with a boring storyline, some bland dailies, and the skull twist, but it also has a few individuals that really stand out, as well as good winners and a fantastic final.
Overall, I’m content with this one.
Next up I have All Stars 1 which I am incredibly excited about. I’ll be trying to do my usual predictions for it but I feel I’m going to get a ridiculous amount wrong. Lets see!
As always, let me know what you all thought of this season - keen to hear your thoughts on it, and please feel free to rag on Fessy with me. Thanks for reading!
Rankings
Wild that this marks my thirty-fifth season of The Challenge. A cool milestone. I’ve placed this in a spot which surprised me a little, I didn’t expect it to be so high, but comparing it to some of the seasons below is what landed it here. It could change, as always with these rankings.

1. S25: Free Agents
2. S24: Rivals 2
3. S33: War of the Worlds
4. S21: Rivals
5. S34: War of the Worlds 2
6. S13: The Duel
7. S30: Dirty 30
8. S10: Inferno 2
9. S29: Invasion of The Champions
10. S20: Cutthroat
11. S8: The Inferno
12. S19: Fresh Meat 2
13. S12: Fresh Meat
14. S26: Battle of the Exes 2
15. S22: Battle of the Exes
16. S32: Final Reckoning
17. S17: The Duel 2 (V)
18. S15: The Gauntlet 3
19. S18: The Ruins
20. S31: Vendettas
21. S36: Double Agents
22. S28: Rivals 3
23. The Challenge: Champs v Stars 2
24. The Challenge: Champs vs Pros
25. S6: Battle of the Sexes
26. S14: Inferno 3
27. S11: The Gauntlet 2
28. S7: The Gauntlet
29. The Challenge: Champs vs Stars
30. S5: Battle of the Seasons
31. S9: Battle of the Sexes 2
32. S23: Battle of the Seasons (2)
33. S27: Battle of the Bloodlines
34. S35: Total Madness
35. S16: The Island