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My Stint as a Fire Lookout - I Try to Escape
2023.03.22 16:37 SleeplessFromSundown My Stint as a Fire Lookout - I Try to Escape
Part 4
I pulled the other radio from my backpack. I called the Station. They answered immediately. It was Hitch, the Ranger who led me up the first day.
“I have an emergency,” I said.
“Is there a fire?” Hitch asked.
“No. Martina, from Lookout 1, something attacked her.”
“Where is she now?”
“It took her into the forest.”
“Is this a joke Tom?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You made a report this morning, the death of a hiker. Burning red eyes, but not a bear.”
“It was the same thing. Except there are two now.”
“Ok. I’m going to get Martina on the line.”
The radio went silent. An eternity passed. I scanned the forest. Ripples of warm air rose up into the sky. Nothing else stirred.
“Ok Tom, we have no patience for this type of thing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We spoke to Martina and she’s fine.”
“That’s impossible. They attacked her. I watched it happen.”
“You know there’s a waiting list to get in a lookout tower. I can have you replaced within a week.”
“Replace me today. Get up here and drag me down off the mountain.”
“We told you this morning that we can’t get up there on account of the fog.”
“The fog is gone. It’s clear skies.”
An audible sigh came through the radio. “The fog coupled with the weather warning the met office just issued means no one is going up the mountain today.”
“Are you insane? What weather? There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
“Listen to me carefully. You are going to watch for fires. There’s lighting and high winds on the way. When it has blown through we can get someone up there to replace you. In the meantime stay in your lookout and keep this channel clear unless there is a real emergency.”
“I’m not in my lookout.”
“Where are you?”
“Lookout 3.”
“Where is Callum?”
I ran another eye over the inside of the lookout. Furniture and paper strewn across the floor, like a bomb had gone off. And still the smell of burning.
“No one is here.”
“Why are you there?”
I almost answered and then put the radio down. I’m at Lookout 3 because a fairy of some sort led me here through the fog. And then the fog lifted and the fairy disintegrated before my eyes. That would go down well.
Was this a dream? I grabbed the necklace the woman threw onto the deck before she evaporated into the wind. The points of the triangle left indents in my palm. That was real.
I picked up the other radio.
“Martina? Can you hear me?”
A man’s voice. Roger. “If you want to live, get back to your own lookout. The forest is about to burn.” In the background Martina made a muffled cry.
“Don’t hurt her.”
“There’s no stopping this now.”
The radio crackled and then went dead. I shouted into it until my throat was sore, but there was nothing more from Roger or Martina. I looked down at the base of the elevated structure. Unlike the barren peak at Lookout 2, up here the trees grew at the top. There was a well maintained clearing around the base of the structure, but in high wind could a fire spread far and fast enough to light the structure? The image of hot and red flames played in my head, so real I almost felt the heat. I had to get out of here.
I opened the door to the lookout and a wave of hot air shifted my weight onto my heels. The windows rattled. I put one foot onto the deck and remembered my backpack. The hot air followed me inside and picked up loose sheets of paper and pushed them against the windows. I grasped my backpack and straightened and came eye to eye with one of the sheets of paper stuck to the glass. The same hand written script that filled the pages of the book bound in black.
What the hell?
I put the backpack down and gathered up as much of the paper as I could. A couple of sheets beat me out the door and fluttered into the trees. I took the stack and dumped it down on the circular map in the middle of the lookout. I rifled through the pages, looking for some clue to unravel all this. There could be a clue in here that could help me get off this mountain alive. The woman in blue had told me I had to see what was in this lookout. This could be it.
Unintelligible script filled the pages. Geometric shapes overlapped with the writing. The same crap written in the book I found on the shelf of my lookout. This was useless. And then something else. I pulled out the page from the stack. What looked like a map.
I traced my finger over it. A series of curved lines, sometimes close together and sometimes far apart. I remembered enough from geography class to recognise contour lines. Two peaks and an elevated ridge. I threw the rest of the pages on the floor and compared the map to the larger disc map on the contraption to pinpoint fires. They matched. The two peaks were my lookout and this one. The ridge line was where Martina’s lookout stood. And the valley in between.
Deep in the valley, down at the lowest point was a black splotch. It occupied the exact centre of the page. I found the same spot on the bigger map, offset from the middle but not far off. In tiny lettering beside it read the word ‘cave’.
I went to the window and searched the forest for the place. Tracing a line between this lookout and Martina’s, I got a rough bearing on it. The trees parted slightly, but from this far away I could not see a cave. I picked up the binoculars and trained them on the spot. The trees hid whatever was down there. A shimmer of warm air rose between the trees, like the hot exhaust from a jet engine. That’s where they were. That’s where they took Martina. It had to be. But why?
Is this what the woman in blue wanted me to see? A low rumble rose above the sound of the wind and the rattle of the windows. A thin band of purple climbed above the western horizon and flashed. Lightning. The storm was on its way. If there was anything else up here to find, I wasn’t going to wait around and look for it.
I stuffed the map in my backpack and zipped it up and stumbled out the door. The adrenaline turned my legs rigid and I almost fell down the stairs. I grabbed the rail and shouted at myself to calm down. I ran in the direction of my lookout and came to the charred remains of the burnt out tree. The trunk ended abruptly at the top, a headless remnant of what it once was. And then I noticed something strange. The trunk had a hollow interior, like a giant black pipe sticking out of the ground.
I ran a palm over the rough exterior, black soot sticking to my skin. When I got to the triangle carved into the trunk I applied pressure. The charred bark cracked. I used both hands now, smashing the butt of my hand against the burnt wood. The bark splintered and a triangle shaped wedge fell came loose. I put my eye to the opening. The tree was hollow from top to bottom. It was the strangest thing. I wondered if the tree out the back of my lookout was the same. As far as I knew, trees did not grow with hollow insides.
I set off at a jog back towards my lookout. I had resolved to get off the mountain and beg a rescue team to come up and save Martina. Between the coming storm and Roger’s warning that the forest would burn, I had no interest in hanging around. The creature had taken Rebecca the hiker, and then two had taken Martina. But if I were right, they were down at the cave in the valley marked on the map. I had to be fast. I had to stay ahead of them or they would do to me as they had done to the hiker. I shuddered.
First stop was my lookout. It was on the way back to the Ranger Station and I could grab the rest of my things. I’d take down the black book of strange script too and show the Rangers. Let them tell me I’m crazy when confronted with evidence of the weird things going on up here.
Despite going downhill, I was soon puffing and spluttering. The infection in my chest had not yet cleared and my insides burned. I pulled the straps on the backpack to stop it slamming against my back as I hurdled fallen branches.
Near the bottom my right shoe slipped on a stray tuft of fern just as I readied to leap over the desiccated remains of a fallen tree. My balance thrown, I failed to get my left leg up in time and it caught on a branch sticking up from the tree. Pain shot through my ankle as it twisted into an unnatural position before the branch finally cracked under the pressure exerted by my falling body.
I cried out as I slammed shoulder first onto the forest floor. I lay there panting, my left leg dangling in the air. A terrible heat filled the ankle joint. I rubbed it with my hands and then rolled and got to my knees. The ankle was cooked and I knew it.
In high school I spent a season on the football team; in part because I loved the game and also in an attempt to raise my social standing. To the surprise of everyone I hadn’t performed badly and made a valuable contribution or two. That was until the last game of the season, a knockout fixture. I rolled my ankle barely two minutes into the game and, stupidly, stayed out on the field. While the injured ankle is still warm it works for a while and then the swelling and the bruising comes and the hobbling begins. It was at the start of the hobble phase that I missed a tackle. We lost the game and there was plenty of blame to throw around, and I copped more than my fair share.
I looked up the slope leading to my lookout. If I hustled it would be forty five minutes to the top, a hard slog uphill. I put some weight on my left leg and winced. I had to move now, the pain was only going to get worse.
Going uphill is infinitely harder than running on a flat patch of grass on a twisted ankle. All the grip comes through the toes and places stress on the joint. I started going up sideways to at least keep my foot in a neutral position.
Sweat poured down my face. The forest trapped the heat and the air was warm and suffocating. My throat burned. I needed water. Thunder rumbled low in the distance. I could not see the horizon through the trees, but it sounded closer than before. I pushed everything else from my mind and focussed only on the next painful step.
The radio crackled. I shook my torso trying to set the backpack free. Sweat soaked my shirt and made everything sticky. I overbalanced and tumbled to the ground. I freed myself of the straps and pulled the radio free.
“Tom? Tom?” The voice was a whisper. Martina.
I whispered in response. “I’m here.”
“He’s coming.”
“What?”
“He’s coming for you.”
A clattering noise came through the radio and then it went dead.
“Martina? Martina?”
No response. I groaned and got to my feet, exhausted and dehydrated and sore. The first step on the twisted ankle shot pain right up my leg and I almost collapsed back to the ground. I looked ahead, the roof of my lookout poked up above the peak. I was close. Was I close enough?
The rising slope of the peak became the long hallway at my high school. Lockers pushed up against the wall. Doors with glass windows to the classrooms. In my memories that hallway is empty aside from him and me. In truth there were kids everywhere, but they were unimportant. He yelled out down the hallway. Winslow! He was already running. I slammed shut the locker and went. I skidded and slipped on the polished tiles. That time I almost made it, almost. In sight of sanctuary a violent tug on my backpack and I went down. The blows burst through my defences. I covered my head. Tears flowed. Now the other kids fill in the blank spaces. They laugh and taunt. Waterworks Winslow.
Somewhere behind me a branch cracked. I turned back and it is the forest once more. I searched the trees for the sign of movement. My ankle is almost shot. All the force driving me up the slope towards the lookout comes from my good right leg. The left leg is nothing more than a prop keeping me upright.
I look back up and stop dead in my tracks. Above me on the slope stands the creature I saw take Rebecca. One of the things that abducted Martina. It looked a version of human, the body and limbs and head in the right proportion. But the skin was ash-grey and smooth, like the surface of pottery hardened in a kiln. Its eyes burned red. It radiated heat, the air shimmering off its shoulders.
“You’re coming with me.”
The voice of a man. I did not recognise it. A notion had worked its way into my head, that this thing hunting in the forest was in fact Roger, the missing man from my lookout. But this was not Roger’s voice. I had heard Roger through the radio, and even though a radio can distort a voice, this was so different in pitch that it could not belong to Roger. That left one option. Callum. The occupant of Lookout 3.
I turned and shuffled down the slope. He laughed. He laughed with the same derision as those bullies in high school.
I reached up and grabbed a low hanging branch. I yanked it hard until it splintered and broke off and provided a weapon of sorts. I pointed the branch up the slope and swung it back and forth. This only elicited more laughter.
He sprung downwards and gripped the end of the branch. The muscles in my arms tensed and I pulled back. His face broke into a hideous smile, the teeth the same grey as the skin. With a single pull of unnatural strength he yanked the branch from my hands.
For a moment I stood on the slope, exposed and defenceless. And then I ran. My ankle screamed with pain, but I ran. I whimpered under my breath, waiting for a pull at my backpack to confirm that my assailant had caught up to me. I anticipated the feeling of helplessness and for the world to beat me down one more time.
It was not a pull of the backpack that stopped my flight. I heard the whoosh before a tree branch crashed into the side of my head. The impact set off a flash before my eyes and then everything went black.
An explosive crack of thunder flicked the lights back on inside my head. I blinked a haze of blurred green into focus. The canopy of the forest and between it jagged slivers of blue sky. My head lifted and smacked back down on the forest floor. My shirt rode up and formed a twisted mess around my shoulder blades. I looked to my feet, elevated and ahead. The smooth and grey skin of Callum. He dragged me through the forest, down towards the cave. He was taking me to Roger.
X
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I pulled the other radio from my backpack. I called the Station. They answered immediately. It was Hitch, the Ranger who led me up the first day.
“I have an emergency,” I said.
“Is there a fire?” Hitch asked.
“No. Martina, from Lookout 1, something attacked her.”
“Where is she now?”
“It took her into the forest.”
“Is this a joke Tom?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You made a report this morning, the death of a hiker. Burning red eyes, but not a bear.”
“It was the same thing. Except there are two now.”
“Ok. I’m going to get Martina on the line.”
The radio went silent. An eternity passed. I scanned the forest. Ripples of warm air rose up into the sky. Nothing else stirred.
“Ok Tom, we have no patience for this type of thing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We spoke to Martina and she’s fine.”
“That’s impossible. They attacked her. I watched it happen.”
“You know there’s a waiting list to get in a lookout tower. I can have you replaced within a week.”
“Replace me today. Get up here and drag me down off the mountain.”
“We told you this morning that we can’t get up there on account of the fog.”
“The fog is gone. It’s clear skies.”
An audible sigh came through the radio. “The fog coupled with the weather warning the met office just issued means no one is going up the mountain today.”
“Are you insane? What weather? There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
“Listen to me carefully. You are going to watch for fires. There’s lighting and high winds on the way. When it has blown through we can get someone up there to replace you. In the meantime stay in your lookout and keep this channel clear unless there is a real emergency.”
“I’m not in my lookout.”
“Where are you?”
“Lookout 3.”
“Where is Callum?”
I ran another eye over the inside of the lookout. Furniture and paper strewn across the floor, like a bomb had gone off. And still the smell of burning.
“No one is here.”
“Why are you there?”
I almost answered and then put the radio down. I’m at Lookout 3 because a fairy of some sort led me here through the fog. And then the fog lifted and the fairy disintegrated before my eyes. That would go down well.
Was this a dream? I grabbed the necklace the woman threw onto the deck before she evaporated into the wind. The points of the triangle left indents in my palm. That was real.
I picked up the other radio.
“Martina? Can you hear me?”
A man’s voice. Roger. “If you want to live, get back to your own lookout. The forest is about to burn.” In the background Martina made a muffled cry.
“Don’t hurt her.”
“There’s no stopping this now.”
The radio crackled and then went dead. I shouted into it until my throat was sore, but there was nothing more from Roger or Martina. I looked down at the base of the elevated structure. Unlike the barren peak at Lookout 2, up here the trees grew at the top. There was a well maintained clearing around the base of the structure, but in high wind could a fire spread far and fast enough to light the structure? The image of hot and red flames played in my head, so real I almost felt the heat. I had to get out of here.
I opened the door to the lookout and a wave of hot air shifted my weight onto my heels. The windows rattled. I put one foot onto the deck and remembered my backpack. The hot air followed me inside and picked up loose sheets of paper and pushed them against the windows. I grasped my backpack and straightened and came eye to eye with one of the sheets of paper stuck to the glass. The same hand written script that filled the pages of the book bound in black.
What the hell?
I put the backpack down and gathered up as much of the paper as I could. A couple of sheets beat me out the door and fluttered into the trees. I took the stack and dumped it down on the circular map in the middle of the lookout. I rifled through the pages, looking for some clue to unravel all this. There could be a clue in here that could help me get off this mountain alive. The woman in blue had told me I had to see what was in this lookout. This could be it.
Unintelligible script filled the pages. Geometric shapes overlapped with the writing. The same crap written in the book I found on the shelf of my lookout. This was useless. And then something else. I pulled out the page from the stack. What looked like a map.
I traced my finger over it. A series of curved lines, sometimes close together and sometimes far apart. I remembered enough from geography class to recognise contour lines. Two peaks and an elevated ridge. I threw the rest of the pages on the floor and compared the map to the larger disc map on the contraption to pinpoint fires. They matched. The two peaks were my lookout and this one. The ridge line was where Martina’s lookout stood. And the valley in between.
Deep in the valley, down at the lowest point was a black splotch. It occupied the exact centre of the page. I found the same spot on the bigger map, offset from the middle but not far off. In tiny lettering beside it read the word ‘cave’.
I went to the window and searched the forest for the place. Tracing a line between this lookout and Martina’s, I got a rough bearing on it. The trees parted slightly, but from this far away I could not see a cave. I picked up the binoculars and trained them on the spot. The trees hid whatever was down there. A shimmer of warm air rose between the trees, like the hot exhaust from a jet engine. That’s where they were. That’s where they took Martina. It had to be. But why?
Is this what the woman in blue wanted me to see? A low rumble rose above the sound of the wind and the rattle of the windows. A thin band of purple climbed above the western horizon and flashed. Lightning. The storm was on its way. If there was anything else up here to find, I wasn’t going to wait around and look for it.
I stuffed the map in my backpack and zipped it up and stumbled out the door. The adrenaline turned my legs rigid and I almost fell down the stairs. I grabbed the rail and shouted at myself to calm down. I ran in the direction of my lookout and came to the charred remains of the burnt out tree. The trunk ended abruptly at the top, a headless remnant of what it once was. And then I noticed something strange. The trunk had a hollow interior, like a giant black pipe sticking out of the ground.
I ran a palm over the rough exterior, black soot sticking to my skin. When I got to the triangle carved into the trunk I applied pressure. The charred bark cracked. I used both hands now, smashing the butt of my hand against the burnt wood. The bark splintered and a triangle shaped wedge fell came loose. I put my eye to the opening. The tree was hollow from top to bottom. It was the strangest thing. I wondered if the tree out the back of my lookout was the same. As far as I knew, trees did not grow with hollow insides.
I set off at a jog back towards my lookout. I had resolved to get off the mountain and beg a rescue team to come up and save Martina. Between the coming storm and Roger’s warning that the forest would burn, I had no interest in hanging around. The creature had taken Rebecca the hiker, and then two had taken Martina. But if I were right, they were down at the cave in the valley marked on the map. I had to be fast. I had to stay ahead of them or they would do to me as they had done to the hiker. I shuddered.
First stop was my lookout. It was on the way back to the Ranger Station and I could grab the rest of my things. I’d take down the black book of strange script too and show the Rangers. Let them tell me I’m crazy when confronted with evidence of the weird things going on up here.
Despite going downhill, I was soon puffing and spluttering. The infection in my chest had not yet cleared and my insides burned. I pulled the straps on the backpack to stop it slamming against my back as I hurdled fallen branches.
Near the bottom my right shoe slipped on a stray tuft of fern just as I readied to leap over the desiccated remains of a fallen tree. My balance thrown, I failed to get my left leg up in time and it caught on a branch sticking up from the tree. Pain shot through my ankle as it twisted into an unnatural position before the branch finally cracked under the pressure exerted by my falling body.
I cried out as I slammed shoulder first onto the forest floor. I lay there panting, my left leg dangling in the air. A terrible heat filled the ankle joint. I rubbed it with my hands and then rolled and got to my knees. The ankle was cooked and I knew it.
In high school I spent a season on the football team; in part because I loved the game and also in an attempt to raise my social standing. To the surprise of everyone I hadn’t performed badly and made a valuable contribution or two. That was until the last game of the season, a knockout fixture. I rolled my ankle barely two minutes into the game and, stupidly, stayed out on the field. While the injured ankle is still warm it works for a while and then the swelling and the bruising comes and the hobbling begins. It was at the start of the hobble phase that I missed a tackle. We lost the game and there was plenty of blame to throw around, and I copped more than my fair share.
I looked up the slope leading to my lookout. If I hustled it would be forty five minutes to the top, a hard slog uphill. I put some weight on my left leg and winced. I had to move now, the pain was only going to get worse.
Going uphill is infinitely harder than running on a flat patch of grass on a twisted ankle. All the grip comes through the toes and places stress on the joint. I started going up sideways to at least keep my foot in a neutral position.
Sweat poured down my face. The forest trapped the heat and the air was warm and suffocating. My throat burned. I needed water. Thunder rumbled low in the distance. I could not see the horizon through the trees, but it sounded closer than before. I pushed everything else from my mind and focussed only on the next painful step.
The radio crackled. I shook my torso trying to set the backpack free. Sweat soaked my shirt and made everything sticky. I overbalanced and tumbled to the ground. I freed myself of the straps and pulled the radio free.
“Tom? Tom?” The voice was a whisper. Martina.
I whispered in response. “I’m here.”
“He’s coming.”
“What?”
“He’s coming for you.”
A clattering noise came through the radio and then it went dead.
“Martina? Martina?”
No response. I groaned and got to my feet, exhausted and dehydrated and sore. The first step on the twisted ankle shot pain right up my leg and I almost collapsed back to the ground. I looked ahead, the roof of my lookout poked up above the peak. I was close. Was I close enough?
The rising slope of the peak became the long hallway at my high school. Lockers pushed up against the wall. Doors with glass windows to the classrooms. In my memories that hallway is empty aside from him and me. In truth there were kids everywhere, but they were unimportant. He yelled out down the hallway. Winslow! He was already running. I slammed shut the locker and went. I skidded and slipped on the polished tiles. That time I almost made it, almost. In sight of sanctuary a violent tug on my backpack and I went down. The blows burst through my defences. I covered my head. Tears flowed. Now the other kids fill in the blank spaces. They laugh and taunt. Waterworks Winslow.
Somewhere behind me a branch cracked. I turned back and it is the forest once more. I searched the trees for the sign of movement. My ankle is almost shot. All the force driving me up the slope towards the lookout comes from my good right leg. The left leg is nothing more than a prop keeping me upright.
I look back up and stop dead in my tracks. Above me on the slope stands the creature I saw take Rebecca. One of the things that abducted Martina. It looked a version of human, the body and limbs and head in the right proportion. But the skin was ash-grey and smooth, like the surface of pottery hardened in a kiln. Its eyes burned red. It radiated heat, the air shimmering off its shoulders.
“You’re coming with me.”
The voice of a man. I did not recognise it. A notion had worked its way into my head, that this thing hunting in the forest was in fact Roger, the missing man from my lookout. But this was not Roger’s voice. I had heard Roger through the radio, and even though a radio can distort a voice, this was so different in pitch that it could not belong to Roger. That left one option. Callum. The occupant of Lookout 3.
I turned and shuffled down the slope. He laughed. He laughed with the same derision as those bullies in high school.
I reached up and grabbed a low hanging branch. I yanked it hard until it splintered and broke off and provided a weapon of sorts. I pointed the branch up the slope and swung it back and forth. This only elicited more laughter.
He sprung downwards and gripped the end of the branch. The muscles in my arms tensed and I pulled back. His face broke into a hideous smile, the teeth the same grey as the skin. With a single pull of unnatural strength he yanked the branch from my hands.
For a moment I stood on the slope, exposed and defenceless. And then I ran. My ankle screamed with pain, but I ran. I whimpered under my breath, waiting for a pull at my backpack to confirm that my assailant had caught up to me. I anticipated the feeling of helplessness and for the world to beat me down one more time.
It was not a pull of the backpack that stopped my flight. I heard the whoosh before a tree branch crashed into the side of my head. The impact set off a flash before my eyes and then everything went black.
An explosive crack of thunder flicked the lights back on inside my head. I blinked a haze of blurred green into focus. The canopy of the forest and between it jagged slivers of blue sky. My head lifted and smacked back down on the forest floor. My shirt rode up and formed a twisted mess around my shoulder blades. I looked to my feet, elevated and ahead. The smooth and grey skin of Callum. He dragged me through the forest, down towards the cave. He was taking me to Roger.
X
2023.03.22 15:53 aproyal I am A Fisherman. Off the Bering Sea Exists The Fisher of Men.
I was a fisherman because my father was a fisherman. And his father was a fisherman before him; this is all my family has ever known.
I worked on my father’s boat as one of his deckhands for years. We caught crabs in the Bering sea. Essentially, we would dunk massive metal cages into the water, trapping the crustaceans miles below. It's a tough living, and definitely something not for the faint of heart. You wake up to the murky haze of sunrise, the sea breeze chilling your bones, the smell of salt and the fresh guts of fish clinging to your nose like rust to the hull. Ninety percent of greenhorns never make it past their first day. Many of them were drifters, new to our community. The job paid well, so it attracted men who were eager to work. And my father was always willing to give anyone a shot. But the truth of it was, the job just wasn’t for everybody.
Something always hurt: whether it was your neck, your back, or your joints. It didn’t matter. If you left the harbor in our boat, you best be prepared for the grueling day or my father would toss you over himself.
I watched many a man perish on expeditions, swallowed up by the ravenous sea. Careless or stupid or just plain unlucky.
Things had been going smoothly, though, recently. There were a lot fewer casualties and some very nice yields. A few of the older deckhands at the pub had even quoted this as a “legendary” year. We drank to our good fortune. It wasn’t the same story we were hearing from some of the other vessels, but some years were better than others. It was just how the tide turned.
As I said, it’s an honest living and all I’ve ever known is Thally. It was renamed after my father’s first love, but he’d said if Mum ever asked it was named after the Greek Goddess of the sea. The ship had seen its fair share of tumultuous expeditions, but it always managed to steer us home with my father at the helm.
The day I realized he was in trouble, it was far too late. My father had slipped past the point of no return. In actuality, he had been slipping for months, but he was an incredibly stubborn man, impossible to deal with at times. You would just have soon put a bullet in his head if you kept him off the water. But the signs were there. His now shaky hands had once been the most steady spearfishing hands our town had ever seen. His lungs were once exceptional: many old timers at the bar claimed he could hold his breath for ten minutes. Now, he would cough out a watery tar-like residue from them. He stumbled over his words, occasionally forgetting some of the greenhorns’ and deckhands' names.
The signs were all there, and I chose to ignore them.
I think it was because he was the strongest man I ever knew; I couldn’t fathom him needing help. He taught me everything—how to fish, how to swim, how to gut and cook them once you were done. And that was everything in our fishing community. But I guess strong men get old too.
The only reason I caught him was the fussy latch on the door. He jiggled it in frustration as he left, another project left by the wayside. The wind swung the door open in a violent clap; the howling and whistling traveling through the home. A moment later, my coat was on and I followed him into the cold.
The conditions were wretched: the rain fell from the sky in a ruthless downpour. I followed the beacon of light from his lantern. He walked onto the dock and untied the mooring line before entering Thally. The beating of the rain was so intense it drowned out my footsteps and pleas for him to stop. But there was a whistling that could be heard. Its high-pitched tune seemed to float through the conditions, lingering by the dock.
I sprinted once the lights turned on, the motor purring. I barely managed to slide on deck before it drifted off to sea.
***
I’ve been on the water long enough to know we don’t belong there. This stormy night was no exception. The precarious weather would mean waves as tall as houses. In much milder conditions, it was easy to get tossed off deck, plunged into the depths of the dark unknown. High tide was not to be messed with. My father understood all of this, and yet he steered Thally into the choppy waters. The waves sloshed back and forth, creating slick pools that slid from one end to the other.
It was reckless. Unforgivable. Only a fool would steer into the eye of a storm, and my father was far from a foolish man.
He was a very superstitious man, that I knew. He believed in many silly things. Most were innocuous and standard to sailor folklore. Try to bring a banana on board (even so much as an item containing artificial flavoring, the kind you’d find in candy that tasted like awful chemicals) and he’d send you packing. Every morning he’d kiss the rosary above the helm and say a prayer before we’d dock. They made me smirk, these superstitions, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Our best years came under his reign, and when he made money, we all made money—including all of the businesses down the supply chain. The man just seemed to have a knack for it. He knew all the sweet spots and had a feel for where we should be.
Lightning sparked above us. I held onto the railing and stumbled my way toward the entrance of the wheelhouse. The thunder that followed made me flinch. It erupted above, sending trails of jagged light zig-zagging across the cluster of ominous clouds. I twisted the handle, but it didn't move. I could see a faint hue of light past the cloudy glass and the steps ascending upwards, but no sign of my father. Banging on the door was useless, the water continued to pummel everything in its wake, drowning out the noise.
Except for the whistling. It was steady. Unwavering. The calm song seemed to dance above the water, hovering around the main deck.
I threw my hands up in frustration. My father had finally lost it. They always said too much time at sea would do that to you.
Searching for something to help me gain access, I held onto the handle for dear life. With a sudden jerk of the ocean, my hand slipped. I rolled across the deck, my back slamming against the railing on the periphery. My cheek felt cold against the soaked wood floors. A gush of water quickly followed, flowing into my face and sneaking into the crevices of my raincoat, invading my wooly sweater and long johns underneath. I moaned in agony, spitting out a sticky gob of salt and blood.
The boat continued to teeter violently with the waves in large, helpless dips. I managed to get to my knees, desperately clutching the railing. My back felt like it had been scorched. All the while, I cursed my father.
I needed to find shelter or it was a matter of time before I would be underwater. The main deck was largely open. It would be impossible to get to the living quarters or engine room, the water was too treacherous and the distance too far. I needed to go back the way I came and get to my father before it was too late.
Amidst the haze of the rain, I spotted the tool bench that housed some basic tools. I waited until the ebb and flow of the waves had mellowed before timing my staggered run. When the deck leveled, I ran. I felt the muggy squish of salt water between my water-logged boots. As the boat began to rise again, I grasped one of the railing barriers wrapped around the metal bench. A wave of water dropped down, chopping at my body. I swayed momentarily before my feet were sent airborne. The arctic chill brought shivers as it whipped my drenched skin. I gasped. The tips of my fingers were numb as I scrambled to my feet.
Once the waves settled, I fiddled with the combination. The lock clicked open, and I grabbed the first two objects that looked like they could do damage—an iron mallet and a pair of pliers—and waited for the next sequence of waves to settle. I trudged back toward the stairs. The waves tilted the boat at a harsh angle. I stumbled, losing grip of one of the tools. The pliers skidded away in the darkness, disappearing into the black waters. I clutched the mallet for dear life.
The window vibrated with every heavy thud. I brought the mallet down as hard as I could, my arms trembling. After a couple of powerful whacks, tiny spiderweb cracks began to emerge. It eventually shattered, allowing me to reach in and unlock the door.
“Father!” I bellowed up the stairs. My hands slid up the guard rail as the cool steel supported my clumsy steps.
“Charlie?” he called back. His eyes were full of terror: wide and jittery. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I shouted back. “Look outside! We need to turn back!”
Someone else stood by my father’s side. He stared blankly out the window, gripping the wheel. His long, ashy-white locks draped down from his head like thick sections of rope. He looked dressed and ready to work: a brown leather apron, and a cracked leather bucket hat, the string browned and weathered around his chin. The man glanced back at me, a grave look on his face.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“He shouldn’t be here, Ferris,” the man warned.
My father's hands shot to his face. The one missing a ring finger caressed his beard in panic. “Oh, Lord. What are we to do now?” he cried.
“What do you mean? Have you both gone mad?” I stormed the helm and pulled the wheel in the opposite direction. The older man held firm, battling me for control.
“Turn around!” I pleaded.
The man roared back, “Ferris, do something!”
The waves continued to wobble the boat violently from side to side.
“Charlie. Please stop!” my father begged. He gripped the top of my hand and tried to pry my fingers from the wheel.
“Are you crazy, Father? We are going to capsize!” The pressure from his hands finally was too much. I shrugged him off of me, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He then drifted toward the opposite wall, dragged from one end to the other by the tide. Next, I leaned my weight against the man steering the ship. To my surprise, I fell right through him. I stared helplessly from the floor, my mouth ajar at the ghastly revelation. He barely glanced back, his narrow umber brown stare kept firm on the water.
The boat abruptly stopped before I could react. I was launched toward the window, my shoulder colliding with the switchboard. My father was a crumpled heap on the floor. Only the sound of clattering rain filled the air for a moment.
The light was undeniable past the foggy wet window. Blinding. A radiant glow of aquamarine encompassed the outside of the ship.
The man spoke, walking to the door, “It’s time to go.”
The ground felt steady, the rocking ceased. But my father still held the wall as he stepped toward the exit. Seeing him then, he appeared frail and uneasy.
“Stop,” I ordered, wagging my hand in the man’s direction. “Not until I know what’s going on.”
My father sighed, every word looked exhausting exiting his lips. “It is too much to explain now.” He pointed to the door. “You must come.”
“To what exactly? Where are we going?”
The older man held the door open. “To meet our destiny.”
***
Outside the wheelhouse, the incredible glow illuminated the deck. The old man strode toward the floating being. My father stayed a few steps behind, in apprehension. I could tell the tossing around on the ship had done a number on him: he held his wrist as he hobbled forward at a gingerly pace. I placed my hand against the small of his back, aiding him onward.
“Say goodbye,” the man urged. “No need to drag this along, Ferris.”
I observed the being, frozen in wonder. She hovered above the deck, her translucent body holding no color, but glimmering in a silky rainbow sheen like a ray of light hitting the surface of glass at an angle. Her body was beautiful: curvaceous, smooth.
“F…Father…what is this?”
Walls of water surrounded the perimeter of the boat, creating a giant bowl around the ship. The mountainous waves were held in limbo, suspended in the air like swirling blue arcs of impending doom. Schools of fish could be seen swimming in the waves.
My father glanced back as he approached the floating entity. His expression had softened, his stare was that of a little boy who had lost his mother. “I would have come for you, Charlie. I would have explained everything…after I gathered the right words.” I walked toward him and held his head at my chest. He began to sob.
“You must go now,” the old man ordered. “She grows impatient.”
I felt my father trying to peel away, but I held the folds of his neon jacket tighter.
“Let him go,” the old man hissed.
She drifted nearer. There were too many tentacles to count protruding from the base of her skull. Her lips remained pursed. She did not speak, but there was a vibration coming from her. A cooing. The gentle whistle sang from her reverberating gills.
“Tell me what this is, Father,” I cried. “I will not let you go!”
He held me close. I had never heard him cry so hard before.
The older man spoke for him. “Your father’s time is up. Like all of our times have come to an end,” he explained. “He has served well. Exceptionally well.”
My father finally let go.
“Okay,” he declared with a deep breath. “I am ready.“ He took one last look up at me. “I love you, Charlie. Tell your mother I love her too.”
What happened next happened in rapid succession. He took two steps forward and the tentacles wrapped around his body. A petrified scream escaped his lungs. His limbs jolted uncontrollably, as tiny electric sparks flashed from the tentacles. The smell of singed flesh replaced the salty breeze. His eyes rolled back as the entity’s jaw stretched open to an unsettling length. His head was plunged into the cavernous confines, her teeth as sharp as spearheads. She stared back at me as his body disappeared. Her jaw opened and closed in horrifying crunches. Alligator-like snaps.
I wailed helplessly. Was I next?
Her glowing eyes had a glint of satisfaction; her pillow lips moist with delight. They smacked together in a disturbing click. All the while, the whistling continued from its flexing gills.
In an instant, the waves were released, wooshing down from the perimeter. The tsunami was too much, it swallowed everything whole. I saw a flurry of bubbles as the waves crashed into me; I felt the frigid sting of the water mixed with an intense burning in my lungs.
The old man’s voice spoke in the flood:
“Good luck, Boy.”
Everything washed away.
***
I awoke in the wheelhouse, my arms and legs spread out like a starfish. My father was standing over me.
“Welcome back, Son,” he smiled. His gold front tooth was gleaming.
I sat up to see the bright bleed of sunrise peeking in through the clouds.
“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. My head pulsated like I was having a sinister hangover.
“A couple of hours?” he guessed. “It’s not important. What matters is that you are here.”
The rain had stopped, but the deck still had puddles of water pooled up on the surface. It miraculously looked like the boat survived the night with little to no damage.
“You still have time to make it back to work,” he assured me. He appeared content as the pier came into view.
“You won’t believe the nightmare I had.”
There was a flicker of sadness in his smirk. “It was no nightmare.”
I laughed nervously. “Sure.”
“I wish it was a joke, Charlie,” he said. He placed his hand at the helm and spun the wheel. A large buoy floated past. “But I am ready to explain.”
My father told me that the man from last night was named Hayden. He was my grandfather. He had died at sea before I was ever born. So had his father. And his father before him. This was the pact our family had made.
I rubbed my eyes.
“We all take, take, take from the ocean. Our family has been chosen to be the ones who give back, to try to breach the gap.”
The story left me frozen in my spot. “So, this is to be my fate, as well?”
He gazed out the window with an empty stare. The sun was now an orange ring fanning across the skyline. “The way I see it, you have two options.” He turned to look me in my eyes. “You can carry on and captain Thally. Just as you were destined to. It is your responsibility now—the livelihood of the community, the tradition—it all lives with you.” He paused, scratching his chin. “It is a cross to bear, Charlie. The strongest men carry the most weight. You will bring a lot of good men into grave peril. The sea will claim who they see fit, it is not for you to choose. But you must bring them, in plenty.” He cleared his throat. “But you will also protect the community. The sea will reward you so. You will also do much good.”
“Or?” I asked.
“Or…” he paused. “You dock the ship and walk away from it all. Forever. Start a new life. Change your trajectory.”
I contemplated what a new life would look like. “What would happen to Mother?”
“She must never know,” he said. “It will be a tough pill for her to swallow. But she is a tough woman, she will make do.”
We stood in silence, the squawk of the waterfowls and the rolling waves filling the space.
“If you take that path, you must stay away from the ocean. Forever. The sea is unforgiving. A betrayer of covenants, well, you will stand no chance.” He swallowed. “Your children will stand no chance.”
The pier slowly approached. The shadows of awaiting crew members were huddled together at the end of the pier, their lit cigarettes shone in the twilight.
“We are almost here, Son.” He kissed me on the forehead and walked toward the exit. His lips felt incredibly cold. “Just trust I support you in your decision. Whichever way you choose.”
I nodded, tears fleeing from my eyes. I swiftly wiped them away.
“Goodbye, Son. I love you.”
With that, he walked through the closed door.
I gripped the wheel and watched Thally glide toward the pier.
When we got close, I tied the ship to the dock. The familiar whistle cooed in from the sea.
I began to load the ship and felt a hand clutch my shoulder. Murphy grabbed me playfully, his crooked grin across his face. Chase, the new greenhorn, yawned as he shook my hand. I ribbed him about his uneven mustache. He stomped out his butt. More of the crew began to gather their things and hop on board.
We prepared for the daily catch.
For this was all I’ve ever known.
aproyal
submitted by aproyal to nosleep [link] [comments]
I worked on my father’s boat as one of his deckhands for years. We caught crabs in the Bering sea. Essentially, we would dunk massive metal cages into the water, trapping the crustaceans miles below. It's a tough living, and definitely something not for the faint of heart. You wake up to the murky haze of sunrise, the sea breeze chilling your bones, the smell of salt and the fresh guts of fish clinging to your nose like rust to the hull. Ninety percent of greenhorns never make it past their first day. Many of them were drifters, new to our community. The job paid well, so it attracted men who were eager to work. And my father was always willing to give anyone a shot. But the truth of it was, the job just wasn’t for everybody.
Something always hurt: whether it was your neck, your back, or your joints. It didn’t matter. If you left the harbor in our boat, you best be prepared for the grueling day or my father would toss you over himself.
I watched many a man perish on expeditions, swallowed up by the ravenous sea. Careless or stupid or just plain unlucky.
Things had been going smoothly, though, recently. There were a lot fewer casualties and some very nice yields. A few of the older deckhands at the pub had even quoted this as a “legendary” year. We drank to our good fortune. It wasn’t the same story we were hearing from some of the other vessels, but some years were better than others. It was just how the tide turned.
As I said, it’s an honest living and all I’ve ever known is Thally. It was renamed after my father’s first love, but he’d said if Mum ever asked it was named after the Greek Goddess of the sea. The ship had seen its fair share of tumultuous expeditions, but it always managed to steer us home with my father at the helm.
The day I realized he was in trouble, it was far too late. My father had slipped past the point of no return. In actuality, he had been slipping for months, but he was an incredibly stubborn man, impossible to deal with at times. You would just have soon put a bullet in his head if you kept him off the water. But the signs were there. His now shaky hands had once been the most steady spearfishing hands our town had ever seen. His lungs were once exceptional: many old timers at the bar claimed he could hold his breath for ten minutes. Now, he would cough out a watery tar-like residue from them. He stumbled over his words, occasionally forgetting some of the greenhorns’ and deckhands' names.
The signs were all there, and I chose to ignore them.
I think it was because he was the strongest man I ever knew; I couldn’t fathom him needing help. He taught me everything—how to fish, how to swim, how to gut and cook them once you were done. And that was everything in our fishing community. But I guess strong men get old too.
The only reason I caught him was the fussy latch on the door. He jiggled it in frustration as he left, another project left by the wayside. The wind swung the door open in a violent clap; the howling and whistling traveling through the home. A moment later, my coat was on and I followed him into the cold.
The conditions were wretched: the rain fell from the sky in a ruthless downpour. I followed the beacon of light from his lantern. He walked onto the dock and untied the mooring line before entering Thally. The beating of the rain was so intense it drowned out my footsteps and pleas for him to stop. But there was a whistling that could be heard. Its high-pitched tune seemed to float through the conditions, lingering by the dock.
I sprinted once the lights turned on, the motor purring. I barely managed to slide on deck before it drifted off to sea.
***
I’ve been on the water long enough to know we don’t belong there. This stormy night was no exception. The precarious weather would mean waves as tall as houses. In much milder conditions, it was easy to get tossed off deck, plunged into the depths of the dark unknown. High tide was not to be messed with. My father understood all of this, and yet he steered Thally into the choppy waters. The waves sloshed back and forth, creating slick pools that slid from one end to the other.
It was reckless. Unforgivable. Only a fool would steer into the eye of a storm, and my father was far from a foolish man.
He was a very superstitious man, that I knew. He believed in many silly things. Most were innocuous and standard to sailor folklore. Try to bring a banana on board (even so much as an item containing artificial flavoring, the kind you’d find in candy that tasted like awful chemicals) and he’d send you packing. Every morning he’d kiss the rosary above the helm and say a prayer before we’d dock. They made me smirk, these superstitions, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Our best years came under his reign, and when he made money, we all made money—including all of the businesses down the supply chain. The man just seemed to have a knack for it. He knew all the sweet spots and had a feel for where we should be.
Lightning sparked above us. I held onto the railing and stumbled my way toward the entrance of the wheelhouse. The thunder that followed made me flinch. It erupted above, sending trails of jagged light zig-zagging across the cluster of ominous clouds. I twisted the handle, but it didn't move. I could see a faint hue of light past the cloudy glass and the steps ascending upwards, but no sign of my father. Banging on the door was useless, the water continued to pummel everything in its wake, drowning out the noise.
Except for the whistling. It was steady. Unwavering. The calm song seemed to dance above the water, hovering around the main deck.
I threw my hands up in frustration. My father had finally lost it. They always said too much time at sea would do that to you.
Searching for something to help me gain access, I held onto the handle for dear life. With a sudden jerk of the ocean, my hand slipped. I rolled across the deck, my back slamming against the railing on the periphery. My cheek felt cold against the soaked wood floors. A gush of water quickly followed, flowing into my face and sneaking into the crevices of my raincoat, invading my wooly sweater and long johns underneath. I moaned in agony, spitting out a sticky gob of salt and blood.
The boat continued to teeter violently with the waves in large, helpless dips. I managed to get to my knees, desperately clutching the railing. My back felt like it had been scorched. All the while, I cursed my father.
I needed to find shelter or it was a matter of time before I would be underwater. The main deck was largely open. It would be impossible to get to the living quarters or engine room, the water was too treacherous and the distance too far. I needed to go back the way I came and get to my father before it was too late.
Amidst the haze of the rain, I spotted the tool bench that housed some basic tools. I waited until the ebb and flow of the waves had mellowed before timing my staggered run. When the deck leveled, I ran. I felt the muggy squish of salt water between my water-logged boots. As the boat began to rise again, I grasped one of the railing barriers wrapped around the metal bench. A wave of water dropped down, chopping at my body. I swayed momentarily before my feet were sent airborne. The arctic chill brought shivers as it whipped my drenched skin. I gasped. The tips of my fingers were numb as I scrambled to my feet.
Once the waves settled, I fiddled with the combination. The lock clicked open, and I grabbed the first two objects that looked like they could do damage—an iron mallet and a pair of pliers—and waited for the next sequence of waves to settle. I trudged back toward the stairs. The waves tilted the boat at a harsh angle. I stumbled, losing grip of one of the tools. The pliers skidded away in the darkness, disappearing into the black waters. I clutched the mallet for dear life.
The window vibrated with every heavy thud. I brought the mallet down as hard as I could, my arms trembling. After a couple of powerful whacks, tiny spiderweb cracks began to emerge. It eventually shattered, allowing me to reach in and unlock the door.
“Father!” I bellowed up the stairs. My hands slid up the guard rail as the cool steel supported my clumsy steps.
“Charlie?” he called back. His eyes were full of terror: wide and jittery. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I shouted back. “Look outside! We need to turn back!”
Someone else stood by my father’s side. He stared blankly out the window, gripping the wheel. His long, ashy-white locks draped down from his head like thick sections of rope. He looked dressed and ready to work: a brown leather apron, and a cracked leather bucket hat, the string browned and weathered around his chin. The man glanced back at me, a grave look on his face.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“He shouldn’t be here, Ferris,” the man warned.
My father's hands shot to his face. The one missing a ring finger caressed his beard in panic. “Oh, Lord. What are we to do now?” he cried.
“What do you mean? Have you both gone mad?” I stormed the helm and pulled the wheel in the opposite direction. The older man held firm, battling me for control.
“Turn around!” I pleaded.
The man roared back, “Ferris, do something!”
The waves continued to wobble the boat violently from side to side.
“Charlie. Please stop!” my father begged. He gripped the top of my hand and tried to pry my fingers from the wheel.
“Are you crazy, Father? We are going to capsize!” The pressure from his hands finally was too much. I shrugged him off of me, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He then drifted toward the opposite wall, dragged from one end to the other by the tide. Next, I leaned my weight against the man steering the ship. To my surprise, I fell right through him. I stared helplessly from the floor, my mouth ajar at the ghastly revelation. He barely glanced back, his narrow umber brown stare kept firm on the water.
The boat abruptly stopped before I could react. I was launched toward the window, my shoulder colliding with the switchboard. My father was a crumpled heap on the floor. Only the sound of clattering rain filled the air for a moment.
The light was undeniable past the foggy wet window. Blinding. A radiant glow of aquamarine encompassed the outside of the ship.
The man spoke, walking to the door, “It’s time to go.”
The ground felt steady, the rocking ceased. But my father still held the wall as he stepped toward the exit. Seeing him then, he appeared frail and uneasy.
“Stop,” I ordered, wagging my hand in the man’s direction. “Not until I know what’s going on.”
My father sighed, every word looked exhausting exiting his lips. “It is too much to explain now.” He pointed to the door. “You must come.”
“To what exactly? Where are we going?”
The older man held the door open. “To meet our destiny.”
***
Outside the wheelhouse, the incredible glow illuminated the deck. The old man strode toward the floating being. My father stayed a few steps behind, in apprehension. I could tell the tossing around on the ship had done a number on him: he held his wrist as he hobbled forward at a gingerly pace. I placed my hand against the small of his back, aiding him onward.
“Say goodbye,” the man urged. “No need to drag this along, Ferris.”
I observed the being, frozen in wonder. She hovered above the deck, her translucent body holding no color, but glimmering in a silky rainbow sheen like a ray of light hitting the surface of glass at an angle. Her body was beautiful: curvaceous, smooth.
“F…Father…what is this?”
Walls of water surrounded the perimeter of the boat, creating a giant bowl around the ship. The mountainous waves were held in limbo, suspended in the air like swirling blue arcs of impending doom. Schools of fish could be seen swimming in the waves.
My father glanced back as he approached the floating entity. His expression had softened, his stare was that of a little boy who had lost his mother. “I would have come for you, Charlie. I would have explained everything…after I gathered the right words.” I walked toward him and held his head at my chest. He began to sob.
“You must go now,” the old man ordered. “She grows impatient.”
I felt my father trying to peel away, but I held the folds of his neon jacket tighter.
“Let him go,” the old man hissed.
She drifted nearer. There were too many tentacles to count protruding from the base of her skull. Her lips remained pursed. She did not speak, but there was a vibration coming from her. A cooing. The gentle whistle sang from her reverberating gills.
“Tell me what this is, Father,” I cried. “I will not let you go!”
He held me close. I had never heard him cry so hard before.
The older man spoke for him. “Your father’s time is up. Like all of our times have come to an end,” he explained. “He has served well. Exceptionally well.”
My father finally let go.
“Okay,” he declared with a deep breath. “I am ready.“ He took one last look up at me. “I love you, Charlie. Tell your mother I love her too.”
What happened next happened in rapid succession. He took two steps forward and the tentacles wrapped around his body. A petrified scream escaped his lungs. His limbs jolted uncontrollably, as tiny electric sparks flashed from the tentacles. The smell of singed flesh replaced the salty breeze. His eyes rolled back as the entity’s jaw stretched open to an unsettling length. His head was plunged into the cavernous confines, her teeth as sharp as spearheads. She stared back at me as his body disappeared. Her jaw opened and closed in horrifying crunches. Alligator-like snaps.
I wailed helplessly. Was I next?
Her glowing eyes had a glint of satisfaction; her pillow lips moist with delight. They smacked together in a disturbing click. All the while, the whistling continued from its flexing gills.
In an instant, the waves were released, wooshing down from the perimeter. The tsunami was too much, it swallowed everything whole. I saw a flurry of bubbles as the waves crashed into me; I felt the frigid sting of the water mixed with an intense burning in my lungs.
The old man’s voice spoke in the flood:
“Good luck, Boy.”
Everything washed away.
***
I awoke in the wheelhouse, my arms and legs spread out like a starfish. My father was standing over me.
“Welcome back, Son,” he smiled. His gold front tooth was gleaming.
I sat up to see the bright bleed of sunrise peeking in through the clouds.
“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. My head pulsated like I was having a sinister hangover.
“A couple of hours?” he guessed. “It’s not important. What matters is that you are here.”
The rain had stopped, but the deck still had puddles of water pooled up on the surface. It miraculously looked like the boat survived the night with little to no damage.
“You still have time to make it back to work,” he assured me. He appeared content as the pier came into view.
“You won’t believe the nightmare I had.”
There was a flicker of sadness in his smirk. “It was no nightmare.”
I laughed nervously. “Sure.”
“I wish it was a joke, Charlie,” he said. He placed his hand at the helm and spun the wheel. A large buoy floated past. “But I am ready to explain.”
My father told me that the man from last night was named Hayden. He was my grandfather. He had died at sea before I was ever born. So had his father. And his father before him. This was the pact our family had made.
I rubbed my eyes.
“We all take, take, take from the ocean. Our family has been chosen to be the ones who give back, to try to breach the gap.”
The story left me frozen in my spot. “So, this is to be my fate, as well?”
He gazed out the window with an empty stare. The sun was now an orange ring fanning across the skyline. “The way I see it, you have two options.” He turned to look me in my eyes. “You can carry on and captain Thally. Just as you were destined to. It is your responsibility now—the livelihood of the community, the tradition—it all lives with you.” He paused, scratching his chin. “It is a cross to bear, Charlie. The strongest men carry the most weight. You will bring a lot of good men into grave peril. The sea will claim who they see fit, it is not for you to choose. But you must bring them, in plenty.” He cleared his throat. “But you will also protect the community. The sea will reward you so. You will also do much good.”
“Or?” I asked.
“Or…” he paused. “You dock the ship and walk away from it all. Forever. Start a new life. Change your trajectory.”
I contemplated what a new life would look like. “What would happen to Mother?”
“She must never know,” he said. “It will be a tough pill for her to swallow. But she is a tough woman, she will make do.”
We stood in silence, the squawk of the waterfowls and the rolling waves filling the space.
“If you take that path, you must stay away from the ocean. Forever. The sea is unforgiving. A betrayer of covenants, well, you will stand no chance.” He swallowed. “Your children will stand no chance.”
The pier slowly approached. The shadows of awaiting crew members were huddled together at the end of the pier, their lit cigarettes shone in the twilight.
“We are almost here, Son.” He kissed me on the forehead and walked toward the exit. His lips felt incredibly cold. “Just trust I support you in your decision. Whichever way you choose.”
I nodded, tears fleeing from my eyes. I swiftly wiped them away.
“Goodbye, Son. I love you.”
With that, he walked through the closed door.
I gripped the wheel and watched Thally glide toward the pier.
When we got close, I tied the ship to the dock. The familiar whistle cooed in from the sea.
I began to load the ship and felt a hand clutch my shoulder. Murphy grabbed me playfully, his crooked grin across his face. Chase, the new greenhorn, yawned as he shook my hand. I ribbed him about his uneven mustache. He stomped out his butt. More of the crew began to gather their things and hop on board.
We prepared for the daily catch.
For this was all I’ve ever known.
aproyal
2023.03.22 15:50 fend_x [fan art] How to make a Harrowhark figure
![[fan art] How to make a Harrowhark figure](https://a.thumbs.redditmedia.com/zZVmjDhSlZsuC8vwTxpOy1K-PyZEFZhYThjvqHwKB20.jpg "[fan art] How to make a Harrowhark figure") | Hello everyone! I know you all want a pair of Gideon and Harrow figures, but I'm making them for myself, so I'm sorry to say they're both not for sale, but I wanted to share the process of making the Harrowhark figure so you can have one for yourself. (Or find someone to make one for you.) submitted by fend_x to TheNinthHouse [link] [comments] There are still some disclaimers before I begin: English is not my native language and I am not good at English, so this post is translated by DeepL and there may be translation errors. For some terms or nouns, I don't know how they are said in English, so if you know, please let me know! I will edit this post to make it easier to understand. https://preview.redd.it/69v63p35rapa1.jpg?width=4102&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=509b7d8f84a41da22a64f47ab9d0a9de2bb2c4a4 Part 1: The Body As I said in my last post https://www.reddit.com/TheNinthHouse/comments/11nnd55/fan_art_how_to_making_a_gideon_nav_figure/ , you'll need to find a suitable body for Harrow, my choice is GSC Nendoroid Skull Trooper , I used to use its face as Gideon's face and I'm sure you've noticed it has skull paint in whole body, perfect for transforming into Harrow. https://preview.redd.it/ngwe8cr8rapa1.png?width=630&format=png&auto=webp&s=5d3e4ff199960652941e6362bafb6fb6af526010 Advantages: + Skeleton face and body paint + Excellent articulation in comparison (it has three arm joints, where regular Nendoroids has only one) + It is black + Relatively easy to get Disadvantages: - Too strong, too "tactical" - The quality of the PVC is too bad, hard to grinding After I got the Skull Trooper, I first removed all the accessories from it, because I already planned to make an exoskeleton for Harrow with epoxy putty, if you don't have this plan, then I suggest you keep the accessories and the body paint. https://preview.redd.it/nhmdoeulsapa1.png?width=483&format=png&auto=webp&s=d24a392e6e6699c60c1e32b10bd703a2ff909b54 I also chipped off the outside of its shoes and part of its legs, because it was really too strong. This step needs to be done carefully, because after cutting it off, it can not be returned, and seriously, the PVC used by the Nendoroid is very difficult to grinding, be careful. https://preview.redd.it/3pymjdl6tapa1.png?width=538&format=png&auto=webp&s=5b0f2ef1f8479c3fd4ca8d4fc6e0d36ae0f29d60 After that I used black speed glue to fill the grooves, and next I wrapped a layer of masking tape around it in preparation for making the exoskeleton. Shaping with epoxy putty is not my strong point, and epoxy putty is very difficult to use, my method is to roll the epoxy putty into long strips, use a knife to intercept the appropriate length of epoxy putty, then stick it to the body, and then use a silicone pen to shape. Because it was too flat at first, I thickened it a bit. I call this sternum augmentation. https://preview.redd.it/jqgq3d46uapa1.png?width=481&format=png&auto=webp&s=4af8092a99ca8dd9297d264f8ea7558091328265 https://preview.redd.it/vddvo0g8uapa1.png?width=467&format=png&auto=webp&s=99073ea7b39f8b1eb5bdb07bcc3220e6534b8f59 https://preview.redd.it/8eo4tqv9uapa1.png?width=520&format=png&auto=webp&s=e9d87a34a53cc8610d0e1991819434491c659272 When the epoxy putty dried and I took it off the body, the whole thing was a pure nightmare because the joint was so weak that it kept breaking off, from the time I took it off, to the sanding, to the detailing, to the coloring, it broke at least 20 times. Later I used speed glue to connect the broken parts and applied a layer of UV glue on the back to increase the strength, but it still broke very easily. If you want to make the same exoskeleton, I suggest you choose another material. Don't use epoxy putty anyway. https://preview.redd.it/rjvb61fkuapa1.png?width=358&format=png&auto=webp&s=60dae32a84359cdfca24f1c6f59a9be34a5fccdd Part 2: Face and hair Suitable for Harrow's hair is a bit difficult to pick, because it needs to match her personality, and finally, on the advice of friends, I chose Nendoroid Yang Wen-li's hair, which feels quite appropriate. For the face I chose Skull Troopers' face, but after placing Harrow and Gideon together, I felt they were a bit like the same person, or twins, anyway not like a couple. So I decided to draw the skull face paint. https://preview.redd.it/7ktse15evapa1.png?width=1029&format=png&auto=webp&s=bc900e8e10e7c5c95c56bd2c82b1daadf1c9e251 My approach was rather rough, I took a replacement face part, removed the original paint, and then sprayed a layer of white paint, and then used a pencil to draft, with reference to the object is the Skull Trooper face as well as the cover of HTN. At first I chose to paint the eyes gold, but the effect was a bit weird, so I redrew them and modified them many times to make sure the eyes were symmetrical on both sides. https://preview.redd.it/thpz0eq0wapa1.png?width=973&format=png&auto=webp&s=09973e2879fd5d543abe5932c1e990962cbe41c7 https://preview.redd.it/er6d0t10wapa1.png?width=1128&format=png&auto=webp&s=d12ec81cdc9f291a9ce255eccefa75c31edae5e1 If you want to keep it simple, just use the Skull Trooper face and change the eyes color; if you want to get more detailed, I offer three options. ① Draw the skull face paint on a blank face part like I did (warning: it's really tedious). ② Find a replacement face part that you think looks like Harrow, paint the eyes with Liquid Mask, wait for it to dry, then spray a layer of white paint and start drawing, wait until you finish drawing the part with the skull pattern, remove the Liquid Mask and start drawing the eyes. This will ensure that the eyes on both sides are symmetrical, and I hate myself for not thinking of this method in the first place. ③ On the computer according to the GSC face parts to build Harrow's face pattern, and use the laser inkjet. Sorry, I don't know exactly how to do this, just providing inspiration. Part 3: Two-hander The sword toy I picked for Harrow is really big, you know, but I think a bigger sword is better for her. For this sword, I sanded the parting line and then draw it black and nothing else. https://preview.redd.it/cmfp2e9ixapa1.jpg?width=3000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1967568ca60a1bcf1303d8f8d71d87328c12d6a4 And, I did find a fabric similar to the novel cover, okay? But I really don't know how to tailor, so I couldn't make a half cape for Harrow. If you're wondering what this fabric is, its name translates to "Laser Iridescent Organza" and that's all I know. Look how well it fits! Part 4: Painting and coloring Pretty simple! For the hair, I used matte black paint to outline it, and then used clear black paint/ transparent paint to create a layered effect. For the main body, I sprayed matte black paint, and for the extremities, I sprayed matte paint to eliminate scratch. For exoskeleton, I draw it with acrylic-colors COLD WHITE. |
2023.03.22 15:47 BlindGuyAndKarr Dungeon Corps Expansion - 21 - The Tomb
A/N: There could only ever be one song for this chapter and only one singer. I'd had this song in mind for this chapter from the very start and had a rather lot of fun writing this.
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The battle across streets and buildings still raged. Midori couldn't afford to do more than just passively do what he could to direct the flow of traffic even as Damala's heir sent skeletons into the fray. He couldn't afford to ignore how coordinated they were, or that even though their magical units only knew one spell, they seemed terrifyingly inventive with it.
He could not afford to ignore the magi hurling witch-fire into his formations. Nor could he ignore the spiders that seemed intent on crisscrossing as much territory as their legs could cover with silk thread.
There was a moment where an ogre under his command lifted up a braided silk cable, leaving Midori to wonder what its purpose was, as it hadn't been placed to trip or entangle. If anything it had been placed to avoid these things happening.
Such ponderances were set aside, for Midori could not ignore, above all else,
The skeleton in his basement.
He saw Bonehead step out of the simple coffin that served as his spawner and look about the nearly pitch black room.
"Hello?" Bonehead called out. "Anyone else down here?"
A few murmurs from others that had been recently infected. Those damniable automita and armors that detonated themselves rather than turn mid-battle. All of them sat, huddled in small clusters. Trying to let their minds drift empty and formless, to buy themselves more time before they were fully under Midori's command.
What got their attention was Bonehead smashing his spawner to splinters. This drew Midori's attention more fully, having been unaware that creatures could do this.
One of the armors turned its head as disbelief rang through its hollow voice, "I... what? We can do that?"
"Well, I just did." Bonehead stated as he looked about. "Alright. I have a half-idea. Maybe a quarter thought really. We're all dead anyway."
That got several nods. Then a goblin spoke. The speaker was hairless and wore a work smock of rough fabric. "Whatcha got in mind?"
Bonehead gave a low chuckle. "We must proceed as if we are being watched. So understand that any retaliation will be swift."
As he said this Midori expended mana to rebuild his spawner. Which promptly got smashed again.
"That proves it. Midori. You are watching. You are listening." Bonehead's voice was calm. I want you to do both very carefully."
That i was addressed directly got the attention of others. Bonehead spoke again. "I need the majority of you with me at the door. Four or five of you need to stay to keep smashing spawners, and get any new arrivals on board. Then when you get replacements you join us."
Join? Midori's laughter reverberated through the room, echoing against high vaulted ceilings.
Bonehead joined in the laughter for a time. Even as more creatures appeared. Even as spawners were being smashed and remade. Midori's confusion grew. Why was this creature laughing?
"Genlemen. Ladies. Those that ascribe to neither." Bonehead's voice was calm even as Midori spent mana to try silencing him. Instead only causing his left hand to tremble slightly.
"We are all Dead. If not by what I am about to do, then by the thing that is eating away at our minds, eroding our will. Leaving us prisoners in our own bodies." He punctuated the statement by drawing his blade and slicing through a goblin's spawner.
"I have memories of being in this situation before." Again, Midori's attempt at making him stop were only rewarded by a tremor. "Oh the details weren't the same, and technically I failed because ..."
The skeletal archer waved a hand dismissively.
Midori tried to take control of one of the suits of armor, one of the big ones. There was a tremor as it stepped towards Bonehead. Then another step. There wasn't enough growth there for complete control.
"Point is," Bonehead looked directly at the armor being puppeted, as if he were looking at Midori himself. "I know what this is. this is you thinking you've won. I'm in your carefully lain out trap, in a box with a poison that will kill me."
Several others, skeleton, elf, dwarf, and even another armor, got between the armor that was moving and Bonehead.
"Now here is the neat part." Bonehead bounced on his feet, clapping his hands together while walking towards the door. At a glance it looked like a solid metal door wit ha tiny barred window. He rapped a bony knuckle against it. peered through the window, and made a show of pulling at the bars.
The armor Midori had tried puppeting slumped. Next Midori attempted to take control of a goblin. This ended with a pair of armors picking the goblin up and holding it off the ground.
Bonehead nodded at the pair and smiled to the creature Midori took control of. "Yep that's a nice solid door. It's leading out into a hallway of Death the likes that would make even a kaizo mario run look like a walk in the park."
The Goblin sagged, and a skeleton grabbed Bonehead's shoulder. Midori spoke then. "Even if you could open that door, which you can't. It's been tested against the best thieves and picks. Let's say you can. You're still stuck here. Give up. You had your little victory by smashing the spawners."
That point was punctuated by more spawners being smashed in. This time by an Ogre. The giant's head was bowed, its shoulders slumped. Yet it had set about to ensuring death for everyone here would be final.
Laughter. It didn't come from Bonehead, who merely looked into the Skeleton's eye sockets. The laughter came from another there.
Shinji spoke then as he got to his feet. "Twice now have I died following this man. Once to a thing that wanted to eat and remake Creation in its own image. Now to a petty tyrant wanting to tie strings and make us dance to its tune."
Gently, almost tenderly, Shinji's skeletal fingers pulled the hand off of Bonehead's shoulder. "Sir. It's OK."
Bonehead tilted his head down, shoulders slumped. For that moment he could not meet Shinji's gaze. "Still. I'm sorry. You're my friend You'd been there to help me hold things together."
"I know," SHinji clasped forearms with Bonehead. "Let me do that here at the last. Do what you need to."
He glanced to the wider room before looking back to Bonehead. "I've got this."
A deep breath from Bonehead as he squared his shoulders. Vaguely in the background he could hear Shinji. Yet he could not afford to pay it any more attention than that. Nor could he pay attention to Midori's continued attempts at sending others to stop him. Shinji had his back, and Midori could not control everyone. Those that were not being directly controlled stopped those that were.
He pulled from his quiver an arrow. Most of his were plain affairs. Bleached wood polished to look like bone fletched with crow feathers with a variety of tips that varied from blunt to bodkin, though personally he preferred the simple elegance of the broadhead.
This arrow was gifted to him just before he fell, just after Lutz attacked him. It was a declaration of trust then. That she had trusted that nothing would ever make him use that arrow to hurt her or their friends.
Now, as he nocked the star-metal shaft, it was a promise. He could feel power gather. From where he could not say. From Her? No. There was no directionality to the tug. From himself? How? In the gifting did it decide he was its rightful holder?
Music Transition: [https://youtu.be/I34-31nG9Lo?t=319]
In his hand was power Building. It was Waiting.
Unknown to him Midori's attempt to stop him intensified.
Unknown to him this caused Midori's advance on the library to falter, to allow allies space to breath and act.
His mind was focused on the singular point of infinity building in his hand. A swirling infinity that was yoked and shaped by will. He had all the magical potential of a stone. Yet, as Midori was the latest to find out, Will was something he had an overflowing abundance of.
"Here me now." His voice was a soft whisper. Something one would whisper in the ear of a lover.
"I have been made a liar." He breathed slow. Letting the roar of what was behind him fade away.
"I will die far from home surrounded by enemies." His stance widened as he took careful aim.
From somewhere. There was screaming. It was an unearthly wail that came from everywhere all at once. Perhaps it was the result of the power Bonehead held in his hand. Perhaps it was an attempt at taking the nerve from him or making his aim unsteady.
He did not notice as light was drunken by the arrow in his hand, its shaft turning from brilliant gleaming to vantablack dark.
Dimly Bonehead was aware of Shinji shouting to the others that when it was clear, go for Midori's spawners. Fan out. Cause as much mayhem as possible.
"I entrust everything to you now." Bonehead's eyes wouldh ave closed were he able to. "As I send forward my Black Lance."
The arrow loosed. Power that had been stored there released and was shaped by willpower. There was no sound.
The door vanished. Gone. The traps. Gone. The shaped charge of all consuming destruction burrowed deeply into Midori's sanctum fortress. The core of his holdings.
As Bonehead steadied himself. The horrors from Midori's tomb boiled out into his very heart.
As Bonehead began hunting for his quarry he could hear Shinji's laughter. "Come oe you Apes! Do you want to live forever?"
[Previous] [First] [Next] [Wiki]
submitted by BlindGuyAndKarr to HFY [link] [comments]
----------
The battle across streets and buildings still raged. Midori couldn't afford to do more than just passively do what he could to direct the flow of traffic even as Damala's heir sent skeletons into the fray. He couldn't afford to ignore how coordinated they were, or that even though their magical units only knew one spell, they seemed terrifyingly inventive with it.
He could not afford to ignore the magi hurling witch-fire into his formations. Nor could he ignore the spiders that seemed intent on crisscrossing as much territory as their legs could cover with silk thread.
There was a moment where an ogre under his command lifted up a braided silk cable, leaving Midori to wonder what its purpose was, as it hadn't been placed to trip or entangle. If anything it had been placed to avoid these things happening.
Such ponderances were set aside, for Midori could not ignore, above all else,
The skeleton in his basement.
He saw Bonehead step out of the simple coffin that served as his spawner and look about the nearly pitch black room.
"Hello?" Bonehead called out. "Anyone else down here?"
A few murmurs from others that had been recently infected. Those damniable automita and armors that detonated themselves rather than turn mid-battle. All of them sat, huddled in small clusters. Trying to let their minds drift empty and formless, to buy themselves more time before they were fully under Midori's command.
What got their attention was Bonehead smashing his spawner to splinters. This drew Midori's attention more fully, having been unaware that creatures could do this.
One of the armors turned its head as disbelief rang through its hollow voice, "I... what? We can do that?"
"Well, I just did." Bonehead stated as he looked about. "Alright. I have a half-idea. Maybe a quarter thought really. We're all dead anyway."
That got several nods. Then a goblin spoke. The speaker was hairless and wore a work smock of rough fabric. "Whatcha got in mind?"
Bonehead gave a low chuckle. "We must proceed as if we are being watched. So understand that any retaliation will be swift."
As he said this Midori expended mana to rebuild his spawner. Which promptly got smashed again.
"That proves it. Midori. You are watching. You are listening." Bonehead's voice was calm. I want you to do both very carefully."
That i was addressed directly got the attention of others. Bonehead spoke again. "I need the majority of you with me at the door. Four or five of you need to stay to keep smashing spawners, and get any new arrivals on board. Then when you get replacements you join us."
Join? Midori's laughter reverberated through the room, echoing against high vaulted ceilings.
Bonehead joined in the laughter for a time. Even as more creatures appeared. Even as spawners were being smashed and remade. Midori's confusion grew. Why was this creature laughing?
"Genlemen. Ladies. Those that ascribe to neither." Bonehead's voice was calm even as Midori spent mana to try silencing him. Instead only causing his left hand to tremble slightly.
"We are all Dead. If not by what I am about to do, then by the thing that is eating away at our minds, eroding our will. Leaving us prisoners in our own bodies." He punctuated the statement by drawing his blade and slicing through a goblin's spawner.
"I have memories of being in this situation before." Again, Midori's attempt at making him stop were only rewarded by a tremor. "Oh the details weren't the same, and technically I failed because ..."
The skeletal archer waved a hand dismissively.
Midori tried to take control of one of the suits of armor, one of the big ones. There was a tremor as it stepped towards Bonehead. Then another step. There wasn't enough growth there for complete control.
"Point is," Bonehead looked directly at the armor being puppeted, as if he were looking at Midori himself. "I know what this is. this is you thinking you've won. I'm in your carefully lain out trap, in a box with a poison that will kill me."
Several others, skeleton, elf, dwarf, and even another armor, got between the armor that was moving and Bonehead.
"Now here is the neat part." Bonehead bounced on his feet, clapping his hands together while walking towards the door. At a glance it looked like a solid metal door wit ha tiny barred window. He rapped a bony knuckle against it. peered through the window, and made a show of pulling at the bars.
The armor Midori had tried puppeting slumped. Next Midori attempted to take control of a goblin. This ended with a pair of armors picking the goblin up and holding it off the ground.
Bonehead nodded at the pair and smiled to the creature Midori took control of. "Yep that's a nice solid door. It's leading out into a hallway of Death the likes that would make even a kaizo mario run look like a walk in the park."
The Goblin sagged, and a skeleton grabbed Bonehead's shoulder. Midori spoke then. "Even if you could open that door, which you can't. It's been tested against the best thieves and picks. Let's say you can. You're still stuck here. Give up. You had your little victory by smashing the spawners."
That point was punctuated by more spawners being smashed in. This time by an Ogre. The giant's head was bowed, its shoulders slumped. Yet it had set about to ensuring death for everyone here would be final.
Laughter. It didn't come from Bonehead, who merely looked into the Skeleton's eye sockets. The laughter came from another there.
Shinji spoke then as he got to his feet. "Twice now have I died following this man. Once to a thing that wanted to eat and remake Creation in its own image. Now to a petty tyrant wanting to tie strings and make us dance to its tune."
Gently, almost tenderly, Shinji's skeletal fingers pulled the hand off of Bonehead's shoulder. "Sir. It's OK."
Bonehead tilted his head down, shoulders slumped. For that moment he could not meet Shinji's gaze. "Still. I'm sorry. You're my friend You'd been there to help me hold things together."
"I know," SHinji clasped forearms with Bonehead. "Let me do that here at the last. Do what you need to."
He glanced to the wider room before looking back to Bonehead. "I've got this."
A deep breath from Bonehead as he squared his shoulders. Vaguely in the background he could hear Shinji. Yet he could not afford to pay it any more attention than that. Nor could he pay attention to Midori's continued attempts at sending others to stop him. Shinji had his back, and Midori could not control everyone. Those that were not being directly controlled stopped those that were.
He pulled from his quiver an arrow. Most of his were plain affairs. Bleached wood polished to look like bone fletched with crow feathers with a variety of tips that varied from blunt to bodkin, though personally he preferred the simple elegance of the broadhead.
This arrow was gifted to him just before he fell, just after Lutz attacked him. It was a declaration of trust then. That she had trusted that nothing would ever make him use that arrow to hurt her or their friends.
Now, as he nocked the star-metal shaft, it was a promise. He could feel power gather. From where he could not say. From Her? No. There was no directionality to the tug. From himself? How? In the gifting did it decide he was its rightful holder?
Music Transition: [https://youtu.be/I34-31nG9Lo?t=319]
In his hand was power Building. It was Waiting.
Unknown to him Midori's attempt to stop him intensified.
Unknown to him this caused Midori's advance on the library to falter, to allow allies space to breath and act.
His mind was focused on the singular point of infinity building in his hand. A swirling infinity that was yoked and shaped by will. He had all the magical potential of a stone. Yet, as Midori was the latest to find out, Will was something he had an overflowing abundance of.
"Here me now." His voice was a soft whisper. Something one would whisper in the ear of a lover.
"I have been made a liar." He breathed slow. Letting the roar of what was behind him fade away.
"I will die far from home surrounded by enemies." His stance widened as he took careful aim.
From somewhere. There was screaming. It was an unearthly wail that came from everywhere all at once. Perhaps it was the result of the power Bonehead held in his hand. Perhaps it was an attempt at taking the nerve from him or making his aim unsteady.
He did not notice as light was drunken by the arrow in his hand, its shaft turning from brilliant gleaming to vantablack dark.
Dimly Bonehead was aware of Shinji shouting to the others that when it was clear, go for Midori's spawners. Fan out. Cause as much mayhem as possible.
"I entrust everything to you now." Bonehead's eyes wouldh ave closed were he able to. "As I send forward my Black Lance."
The arrow loosed. Power that had been stored there released and was shaped by willpower. There was no sound.
The door vanished. Gone. The traps. Gone. The shaped charge of all consuming destruction burrowed deeply into Midori's sanctum fortress. The core of his holdings.
As Bonehead steadied himself. The horrors from Midori's tomb boiled out into his very heart.
As Bonehead began hunting for his quarry he could hear Shinji's laughter. "Come oe you Apes! Do you want to live forever?"
[Previous] [First] [Next] [Wiki]
2023.03.22 15:46 NoTmE435 I want a marvel snap ben 10 crossover, card: Omnitrix 0/0: start of game replace your deck with 11 random Aliens, (aliens pool can be 15-20 cards either all in or they cycle per season)
 | submitted by NoTmE435 to MarvelSnap [link] [comments] |
2023.03.22 15:32 Jackviator The Spacer’s Guide to Caring For Your Pet Human (Part 2)
Greetings! If you missed part one, it can be found here.
This chapter is a bit of a long one, but very worth it if you want to understand what’s happening later on; it sets the stage, does a bit of worldbuilding, and expands on our absolute cinnamon roll of an alien deuteragonist.
Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy. :)
——
Y’ggdrasog nervously whistled to himself as he remotely piloted an unmanned stealth drone from his cloaked ship in the upper atmosphere of the alien planet, yet every so often did a happy little wiggle in his seat at the terminal. Despite the danger in what he was doing, he was shaking with excitement and literally glowing with glee (which, if you were curious, happened to be a lovely shade of banana-yellow).
But my apologies, dear reader; I’m getting ahead of myself.
You see, Y’ggdrasog worked as a galactic interplanetary system scout, colloquially known as a “spacer” among the citizens of the Ul’dril Galactic Collective (a governmental alliance between a wide variety of different sapient species that also happened to be his employer). His main function was piloting his personal scout ship to uncharted star systems to summarily un-unchart them.
While in this line of employment, he had been witness to countless wondrous things. He had seen stars go supernova, witnessed space dust forming beautiful nebulas tens of lightyears wide, and caught the frosted trails of comets slinging close enough to a star to off-gas their icy payloads. But nothing even came close to this, to every spacer’s wildest, most fantastical dream discovery:
LIFE! And not just any life, SAPIENT LIFE!
As the drone flew through the sky, descending towards the surface of the planet below, he reminisced on that fateful day approximately six planetary months ago…
He had been scouting the ice and gas giants in this yet-uncharted solar system, scanning their composition with the unmanned probe-drone he used to sample geological deposits, take gas samples and so on to determine if they could be possible new sources of rare elements to harvest for the Collective. He had just finished probing the seventh planet out from the star when he suddenly picked up multiple abnormal readings originating from the ocean-planet of the system. He sighed, figuring it would just be the usual; some leftovers from a solar flare that affected its magnetosphere or some such.
As he listened in through his radiation wavelength analyzer, he expected to hear the meaningless, purposeless static he had heard hundreds of times before. Instead, he heard strange patterns. Hang on, was that… were those- They were! Voices, in a language he didn’t recognize.
He recorded a sample, then pulled up his auto-translator and had his ship’s analytical programs study it, in case it was a distress call from some poor sap who had crash-landed their spacecraft. …But not a single known language was a match.
He scratched his head, puzzled. Could it be a code of some sort? It wasn’t uncommon for smugglers, pirates, spies, and other “off-the-books” types to hole up on uncharted worlds and use coded verbage to prevent detection by Collective authorities. He had the ship analyze it to at least determine what Collective species the vocal cords that produced them were, but again, no matches, not even when he had it scan the audio samples for possible voice-altering.
He sat back in his pilot seat, stumped. Then, he started connecting the dots.
If the vocal cords producing these noises weren’t recognized as a species already included in the Collective, that meant these were the voices of a species unknown to the Collective. An unknown species, but one that was was nonetheless smart enough to use radio waves…
His eyes flew open, and his bioluminescence began to glow the pure white of sudden realization.
…BY THE SPIRITS, IT WAS A NEW SAPIENT SPECIES!
He leapt up from his chair, and would have nearly deafened anyone nearby with the joyfully excited noises he started to make.
…Luckily, however, he was in space. And after all, in space, no one can hear you squee.
It took him nearly an hour to calm down enough to call it in over his quantum communicator and provide the audio samples he had recorded, then another hour to reassure his liaison on the other end countless times that no, this was not a joke, this was not a lie, an elaborate prank or some such- yes, he would be more than willing to testify to the truth of his statements in a Collective court, and yes, this was in fact the once-in-multiple-millennia moment he and most every spacer in the entirety of the Collective always dreamed of:
THIS WAS A NEW FIRST CONTACT!!!
…As Y’ggdrasog left Memory Lane and turned back onto Present Day Boulevard, he let the controls go for a second and proceeded to spin around in his chair in sheer excitement whilst giggling like a madman, literally glowing with giddiness, before swiftly grabbing the control stick again before the drone drifted off course.
HE found a new sapient species! HE did! He’d be in the Collective history archives for the rest of time!
…Months of preparations had to be done beforehand, of course. He had to wait a few long, loooong days on the outskirts of the solar system with his ship in full stealth-mode (so as to avoid attracting attention from the new species until the time was right) before a truly staggering amount of Collective ships arrived, chock-full of top experts in all sorts of social and scientific fields to fill any conceivable role in the analysis of this new species.
While he wasn’t allowed to participate in the work himself or see most of what they were doing, he was nonetheless ecstatic with the knowledge that the work was being done all because of him. Plus, at least he could attend certain intelligence briefings on their main findings as well as look at heavily-redacted versions of some of the results of their endeavors.
Various scientists from the myriad Collective species and dozens more scientific disciplines had gathered together, set up shop within a day and gotten to work. They performed long-distance surface scans, mapped the planetary geography, and analyzed their atmosphere and planetary conditions to determine what Collective species might be compatible for potentially cohabitating with them.
Y’ggdrasog was delighted to learn that they utilized oxygen for respiration just as his species (lumigog) and tens of others in the Collective did, in contrast to Collective species who had to have, say, an atmosphere mostly composed of carbon dioxide, who were out of luck.
Additionally, they drank the same liquid water for fluid regulation in their bodies as his own people did. …Though admittedly, at a much narrower spectrum of salinity than his own species was capable of tolerating. He found that a bit tragic; there was so much water to be found in their homeworld’s oceans. Yet unlike his own people, who could drink from nearly any water on their homeworld, these “humans” could only drink what they called “freshwater.”
However, any sadness he felt about their situation faded when he learned that the gravity of their homeworld was only 1.04x that of his own species’ homeworld; this meant that at least in the case of lumigogs, the answer of cohabitation was a very solid “yes!”
Moving along, the scientists in charge of engineering and military endeavors surreptitiously analyzed the humans’ levels of technology to determine their capabilities, if they were a potential threat to the Collective, and so on; they were deemed, to quote the spokesman of the Collective military, “mostly harmless.”
Y’ggdrasog thought this might be a bit unfair. …That is, until he read the reports, and found yet another reason to pity them. From what little he was able to read of the heavily-redacted documents, the humans were very, VERY primitive. Spirits, they hadn’t even developed fusion yet!
…Still, that was all the more reason to help them; and to do so, they needed a proper line of communication. Countless diplomats, ambassadors, emissaries and representatives of every Collective race were attending seminars on all the sociological experts were learning about the species’ social norms across distinct cultures. And most importantly, the linguistic experts and etymologists got the ball rolling for the true-AI algorithms of the larger vessels (far more complex than his own ship’s operating systems, which only measured in at a few paltry yottabytes) to sort out the languages these “humans” used.
…Speaking of, just how many languages did they need?! With each additional language that was added to the auto-translator databases, he thought surely this one will be the last, but no! You couldn’t swing around a “noodle” of “spaghetti” (the humans always seemed to choose such silly names for their food) without hitting someone speaking a new language!
But all the pity, sadness and frustration he felt was outweighed by the jubilation he felt knowing that all these countless man-hours of hundreds of individuals per each and every Collective species were happening because of him. All these people were here because HE found them, and he was ecstatic at the impossibly exciting prospect of welcoming this new species into the Collective- or on the off chance they didn’t wish to join them, it was determined that it was safe to at least uplift them technologically so that they could be potential new allies, as well as potentially provide new avenues for trade and commerce of never-before-seen exotic goods. After all, there was hardly any risk in doing so, as they were quite literally outnumbered by over a million to one by the allied races of the Collective.
…And after all that, when they had quadruple-checked everything, then quadruple-checked it again to be absolutely sure, the day of first contact FINALLY came. Everyone brought out the celebratory drinks, snacks and party favors. The diplomats sent out their messages in hundreds of human languages declaring a desire for peaceful contact, promises to assist them in the technological uplifting of their species to a post-scarcity way of life and an offer to join the Collective for the benefit of all parties involved, and THEN…
…
……
…Nothing.
No response…
After a few nervous, awkward hours of sitting alongside the other low-ranking crewmates of the larger vessels, he and all those around him got orders of radio silence from high command and for all the “non-essential” personnel to return to their ships and wait for further orders.
As he remembered the sinking feeling he’d experienced at that moment, Y’ggdrasog unconsciously gripped the drone control stick much tighter than necessary.
…All that waiting, the agonizing waiting for them to greet this new species, the one HE found, and for what?
More. Thrice. Damned. WAITING.
…But this time, there wasn’t even a payoff to look forward to, and no one above would tell him what was going on. He didn’t know why there was suddenly so much smoke in the air of the planet, nor what all those bright flashes lighting up the atmosphere midway through the first day were- and there were certainly no answers coming from high command.
He had to sit there in his spacecraft, and just… wait.
One planetary day passed. Then another. Then another, and so on.
In the downtime, he read and reread the guidelines for first contact back to back over and over again, trying to find out what the possible reason for the wait could be. …Unfortunately, all that availed him was eye strain and an extreme amount of boredom from trudging through all the legalese.
After a week of sitting around, watching the planet slowly spin beneath him while in orbit, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to know what was wrong. He NEEDED to act- if only to silence the creeping dread that had slowly but surely permeated his entire being. A dread born of the worry that something had gone horribly, catastrophically wrong…
And thus, an idea formed: His drone.
He knew the humans’ tech levels; there was a smaller chance they could detect him than the literally astronomically low odds of him finding this species to begin with. …Instead, he was far more worried about the potential ramifications if anyone from high command knew what he was up to.
Long before the radio silence commenced, he was told in no uncertain terms that no, he couldn’t scan the planet, no, he couldn’t act as an ambassador, YES, they really meant it, and NO, it didn’t matter that “he really really REALLY wanted to help somehow, please please pleasepleasePLEASE-” …and after that last bit, they shut down his outgoing comms to high command for a full planetary month.
…Jerks.
Er- more importantly, he was told that while no, he couldn’t help in the preparation process, after first contact commenced his main function would be to do what he did best. Scouting and scanning to tease out any additional information he could on the planet’s natural resources in order to assist with the technological uplift process.
The thing is, they had given no specific time frame- …just “after first contact commenced.”
Technically, the current time frame satisfied that condition.
So technically, he wasn’t doing anything he wasn’t supposed to, he was just- …uh… …t-taking initiative!
They couldn’t court-martial him for just doing a little scanning here and there to get ahead of his own workload, surely.
…And it would just be an entirely coincidental, happy accident if while doing this he managed to find out what in the name of the spirits above was happening.
And so he had slowly, carefully moved his ship in such a way that he was currently orbiting in what he hoped was the blind spot of most of the ships of any higher-ups.
…Purely so as to, uh- better position his drone’s entry point into the atmosphere, yes! Rest assured, he was only motivated by- um… a-avoiding negative weather patterns. …Or something like that.
Once in position, he released and directed it towards the planetary surface.
If lumigogs had sweat glands, his would have been in nervous overdrive as the drone descended through the atmosphere.
Would he be detected? Would this all be for naught?
He waited, glancing between the ships around him and the drone’s interface on his monitor, but from his readings on the other vessels it seemed like all the command ships’ sensors were focused on the bigger population centers of the planet. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He was safe- if only for now.
…He’d have to focus on a rural area. Despite every loophole and excuse he could come up with, he’d still be much better off remaining undetected and not interfering in whatever might be going on in more concentrated pockets of the species. It would likely take much longer to gather information this way than heading towards the larger population centers in search of clues, but he could still poke around on the sly for any information he could tease out from the surroundings.
…And hopefully then he could finally get the answers he so desperately craved.
<“Alter descent velocity. Slow to 50% speed and activate autopilot mode.”>
Y’ggdrasog looked at the aerial scans, deciding that what seemed to be an area focused on harvesting crops with a long road running alongside it dotted with the occasional primitive ground vehicle would be as good a place to start as any.
He highlighted the road with a flick of a clawed finger.
<”Descend to 100 meters above planet surface, then follow highlighted path at 20% speed. Proceed.”>
As the drone dutifully obeyed his commands and traveled along the stretch of paved road for a time, he was surprised at the lack of humans to be found despite the vehicles present. Each and every one had seemingly been abandoned; they all sat still, unmoving. His curiosity piqued, he highlighted a few of them in the control interface.
<“Halt forward momentum. Descend to 50 meters from planetary surface. Scan and analyze condition of marked targets.”>
As he finished his verbal command, the familiar synthesized voice of his drone’s onboard computer blared to life from the speakers of his terminal.
He shook his head, puzzled.
<“What happened here…? …Alright, ascend, 300 meters from planetary surface. Continue forward movement following the highlighted path, 15% speed.”>
Farther and farther the road stretched, but he didn’t see a single human upon it, nor in the surrounding area. He sighed and absent-mindedly gazed around at the surrounding environment. He couldn’t help but marvel at how- well, alien it all looked. The taller plant life he saw appeared to be quite complex, their stems covered in thick fiber and their extremities full of- oh, what was the word, “leaves?
…He hadn’t paid all that much attention during the portions of his schooling that covered exotic alien plant life found on feral worlds and the various homeworlds of the other races of the Collective. He figured he’d never really need to interact with much beyond the giant fungal pods, great lichen growths and so on of his homeworld. He was a spacer for spirits’ sake, not a xenobotanist, and-
…Wait, what was that?
<“Halt forward momentum. Reverse 50 meters. Pan visual sensors left, 30 degrees.”>
He squinted at the incoming visual feed. He was right, there was something laying in that ditch! Probably just a random piece of detritus, but better safe than sorry. He highlighted it.
<”Scan target. Assess.”>
<”...Descend toward target, 5% speed.. 2%... halt.”>
His eyes narrowed further as he zoomed the forward visual lens in. Whatever it was, it looked to be a biped, and-
…Wait a minute, he recognized that body structure! Spirits be praised, this had to be one of the members of the new species!
It- they, he corrected himself- had pale skin, long, dark brown fur atop their head, and were wearing clothing covering their torso and legs- though much of it was stained red, running all down the left side of their body.
What were they doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? And why were they laying in a ditch, unmoving? …Were they ok?
<”Scan target, and establish connection to ship auto-doc subsystem. Assess physical condition and cross-reference with known anatomical data of species designation: human.”>
Y’ggdrasog nervously swallowed, trying to center himself and focus despite what he had just heard. Well, that certainly answered that; no, she very much was NOT ok. Whatever had happened to her, it really messed her up.
<”Analyze if damage sustained is life-threatening without intervention given circumstances and location.”>
He swore under his breath.
<”...Expand and clarify analysis.”>
<”C-certainty of analysis conclusion…?”>
He put his head in his hands, his bioluminescence flickering between several colors- none of them good. Spirits above... She was going to die unless someone helped her!
…
…But he was in no position to do so…
He knew deep down that he was deluding himself if he thought he could get away with this if he was caught. No amount of loophole abuse and“legitimate” excuses could save him from severe negative repercussions, not when it came to something as serious as first contact.
He was already risking enough as it was…
Maybe he could let someone in one of the other ships know- no, that would give away that he’d been poking around on the sly…
Maybe- maybe someone else would find her in time, and they could save her? Or maybe, despite the odds, she might just get better on her own? Even if it took her past the 1.3 cycle mark to do so, there was still a- his brow furrowed as he did the math- 0.0000028% chance that she could survive, and a chance was a chance! …Right…?
No one would know if he didn’t intervene. It would be so easy- no chance of getting caught, no risk, no danger, just pull the drone-prone back to the ship, return to his original position, scrub the flight logs, and-
…
……
…No.
No, she’s not.
He opened his eyes and spoke, voice full of grim certainty.
<”Descend to two meters above highlighted subject. Very, VERY carefully use stasis field to attach to subject, entangle her matter with an equivalent mass of carbon from the fabricator hold, then return to quantum anchor point with cargo and safely lower the subject prone beside the drone chassis. Proceed.”>
He got up from the terminal and took off for the drone bay as fast as his taloned feet could carry him, one thought repeating itself over and over in his head as he went, a mantra of sorts:
submitted by Jackviator to humansarespaceorcs [link] [comments]
This chapter is a bit of a long one, but very worth it if you want to understand what’s happening later on; it sets the stage, does a bit of worldbuilding, and expands on our absolute cinnamon roll of an alien deuteragonist.
Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy. :)
CHAPTER 2
15 minutes ago——
Y’ggdrasog nervously whistled to himself as he remotely piloted an unmanned stealth drone from his cloaked ship in the upper atmosphere of the alien planet, yet every so often did a happy little wiggle in his seat at the terminal. Despite the danger in what he was doing, he was shaking with excitement and literally glowing with glee (which, if you were curious, happened to be a lovely shade of banana-yellow).
But my apologies, dear reader; I’m getting ahead of myself.
You see, Y’ggdrasog worked as a galactic interplanetary system scout, colloquially known as a “spacer” among the citizens of the Ul’dril Galactic Collective (a governmental alliance between a wide variety of different sapient species that also happened to be his employer). His main function was piloting his personal scout ship to uncharted star systems to summarily un-unchart them.
While in this line of employment, he had been witness to countless wondrous things. He had seen stars go supernova, witnessed space dust forming beautiful nebulas tens of lightyears wide, and caught the frosted trails of comets slinging close enough to a star to off-gas their icy payloads. But nothing even came close to this, to every spacer’s wildest, most fantastical dream discovery:
LIFE! And not just any life, SAPIENT LIFE!
As the drone flew through the sky, descending towards the surface of the planet below, he reminisced on that fateful day approximately six planetary months ago…
He had been scouting the ice and gas giants in this yet-uncharted solar system, scanning their composition with the unmanned probe-drone he used to sample geological deposits, take gas samples and so on to determine if they could be possible new sources of rare elements to harvest for the Collective. He had just finished probing the seventh planet out from the star when he suddenly picked up multiple abnormal readings originating from the ocean-planet of the system. He sighed, figuring it would just be the usual; some leftovers from a solar flare that affected its magnetosphere or some such.
As he listened in through his radiation wavelength analyzer, he expected to hear the meaningless, purposeless static he had heard hundreds of times before. Instead, he heard strange patterns. Hang on, was that… were those- They were! Voices, in a language he didn’t recognize.
He recorded a sample, then pulled up his auto-translator and had his ship’s analytical programs study it, in case it was a distress call from some poor sap who had crash-landed their spacecraft. …But not a single known language was a match.
He scratched his head, puzzled. Could it be a code of some sort? It wasn’t uncommon for smugglers, pirates, spies, and other “off-the-books” types to hole up on uncharted worlds and use coded verbage to prevent detection by Collective authorities. He had the ship analyze it to at least determine what Collective species the vocal cords that produced them were, but again, no matches, not even when he had it scan the audio samples for possible voice-altering.
He sat back in his pilot seat, stumped. Then, he started connecting the dots.
If the vocal cords producing these noises weren’t recognized as a species already included in the Collective, that meant these were the voices of a species unknown to the Collective. An unknown species, but one that was was nonetheless smart enough to use radio waves…
His eyes flew open, and his bioluminescence began to glow the pure white of sudden realization.
…BY THE SPIRITS, IT WAS A NEW SAPIENT SPECIES!
He leapt up from his chair, and would have nearly deafened anyone nearby with the joyfully excited noises he started to make.
…Luckily, however, he was in space. And after all, in space, no one can hear you squee.
It took him nearly an hour to calm down enough to call it in over his quantum communicator and provide the audio samples he had recorded, then another hour to reassure his liaison on the other end countless times that no, this was not a joke, this was not a lie, an elaborate prank or some such- yes, he would be more than willing to testify to the truth of his statements in a Collective court, and yes, this was in fact the once-in-multiple-millennia moment he and most every spacer in the entirety of the Collective always dreamed of:
THIS WAS A NEW FIRST CONTACT!!!
…As Y’ggdrasog left Memory Lane and turned back onto Present Day Boulevard, he let the controls go for a second and proceeded to spin around in his chair in sheer excitement whilst giggling like a madman, literally glowing with giddiness, before swiftly grabbing the control stick again before the drone drifted off course.
HE found a new sapient species! HE did! He’d be in the Collective history archives for the rest of time!
…Months of preparations had to be done beforehand, of course. He had to wait a few long, loooong days on the outskirts of the solar system with his ship in full stealth-mode (so as to avoid attracting attention from the new species until the time was right) before a truly staggering amount of Collective ships arrived, chock-full of top experts in all sorts of social and scientific fields to fill any conceivable role in the analysis of this new species.
While he wasn’t allowed to participate in the work himself or see most of what they were doing, he was nonetheless ecstatic with the knowledge that the work was being done all because of him. Plus, at least he could attend certain intelligence briefings on their main findings as well as look at heavily-redacted versions of some of the results of their endeavors.
Various scientists from the myriad Collective species and dozens more scientific disciplines had gathered together, set up shop within a day and gotten to work. They performed long-distance surface scans, mapped the planetary geography, and analyzed their atmosphere and planetary conditions to determine what Collective species might be compatible for potentially cohabitating with them.
Y’ggdrasog was delighted to learn that they utilized oxygen for respiration just as his species (lumigog) and tens of others in the Collective did, in contrast to Collective species who had to have, say, an atmosphere mostly composed of carbon dioxide, who were out of luck.
Additionally, they drank the same liquid water for fluid regulation in their bodies as his own people did. …Though admittedly, at a much narrower spectrum of salinity than his own species was capable of tolerating. He found that a bit tragic; there was so much water to be found in their homeworld’s oceans. Yet unlike his own people, who could drink from nearly any water on their homeworld, these “humans” could only drink what they called “freshwater.”
However, any sadness he felt about their situation faded when he learned that the gravity of their homeworld was only 1.04x that of his own species’ homeworld; this meant that at least in the case of lumigogs, the answer of cohabitation was a very solid “yes!”
Moving along, the scientists in charge of engineering and military endeavors surreptitiously analyzed the humans’ levels of technology to determine their capabilities, if they were a potential threat to the Collective, and so on; they were deemed, to quote the spokesman of the Collective military, “mostly harmless.”
Y’ggdrasog thought this might be a bit unfair. …That is, until he read the reports, and found yet another reason to pity them. From what little he was able to read of the heavily-redacted documents, the humans were very, VERY primitive. Spirits, they hadn’t even developed fusion yet!
…Still, that was all the more reason to help them; and to do so, they needed a proper line of communication. Countless diplomats, ambassadors, emissaries and representatives of every Collective race were attending seminars on all the sociological experts were learning about the species’ social norms across distinct cultures. And most importantly, the linguistic experts and etymologists got the ball rolling for the true-AI algorithms of the larger vessels (far more complex than his own ship’s operating systems, which only measured in at a few paltry yottabytes) to sort out the languages these “humans” used.
…Speaking of, just how many languages did they need?! With each additional language that was added to the auto-translator databases, he thought surely this one will be the last, but no! You couldn’t swing around a “noodle” of “spaghetti” (the humans always seemed to choose such silly names for their food) without hitting someone speaking a new language!
But all the pity, sadness and frustration he felt was outweighed by the jubilation he felt knowing that all these countless man-hours of hundreds of individuals per each and every Collective species were happening because of him. All these people were here because HE found them, and he was ecstatic at the impossibly exciting prospect of welcoming this new species into the Collective- or on the off chance they didn’t wish to join them, it was determined that it was safe to at least uplift them technologically so that they could be potential new allies, as well as potentially provide new avenues for trade and commerce of never-before-seen exotic goods. After all, there was hardly any risk in doing so, as they were quite literally outnumbered by over a million to one by the allied races of the Collective.
…And after all that, when they had quadruple-checked everything, then quadruple-checked it again to be absolutely sure, the day of first contact FINALLY came. Everyone brought out the celebratory drinks, snacks and party favors. The diplomats sent out their messages in hundreds of human languages declaring a desire for peaceful contact, promises to assist them in the technological uplifting of their species to a post-scarcity way of life and an offer to join the Collective for the benefit of all parties involved, and THEN…
…
……
…Nothing.
No response…
After a few nervous, awkward hours of sitting alongside the other low-ranking crewmates of the larger vessels, he and all those around him got orders of radio silence from high command and for all the “non-essential” personnel to return to their ships and wait for further orders.
As he remembered the sinking feeling he’d experienced at that moment, Y’ggdrasog unconsciously gripped the drone control stick much tighter than necessary.
…All that waiting, the agonizing waiting for them to greet this new species, the one HE found, and for what?
More. Thrice. Damned. WAITING.
…But this time, there wasn’t even a payoff to look forward to, and no one above would tell him what was going on. He didn’t know why there was suddenly so much smoke in the air of the planet, nor what all those bright flashes lighting up the atmosphere midway through the first day were- and there were certainly no answers coming from high command.
He had to sit there in his spacecraft, and just… wait.
One planetary day passed. Then another. Then another, and so on.
In the downtime, he read and reread the guidelines for first contact back to back over and over again, trying to find out what the possible reason for the wait could be. …Unfortunately, all that availed him was eye strain and an extreme amount of boredom from trudging through all the legalese.
After a week of sitting around, watching the planet slowly spin beneath him while in orbit, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to know what was wrong. He NEEDED to act- if only to silence the creeping dread that had slowly but surely permeated his entire being. A dread born of the worry that something had gone horribly, catastrophically wrong…
And thus, an idea formed: His drone.
He knew the humans’ tech levels; there was a smaller chance they could detect him than the literally astronomically low odds of him finding this species to begin with. …Instead, he was far more worried about the potential ramifications if anyone from high command knew what he was up to.
Long before the radio silence commenced, he was told in no uncertain terms that no, he couldn’t scan the planet, no, he couldn’t act as an ambassador, YES, they really meant it, and NO, it didn’t matter that “he really really REALLY wanted to help somehow, please please pleasepleasePLEASE-” …and after that last bit, they shut down his outgoing comms to high command for a full planetary month.
…Jerks.
Er- more importantly, he was told that while no, he couldn’t help in the preparation process, after first contact commenced his main function would be to do what he did best. Scouting and scanning to tease out any additional information he could on the planet’s natural resources in order to assist with the technological uplift process.
The thing is, they had given no specific time frame- …just “after first contact commenced.”
Technically, the current time frame satisfied that condition.
So technically, he wasn’t doing anything he wasn’t supposed to, he was just- …uh… …t-taking initiative!
They couldn’t court-martial him for just doing a little scanning here and there to get ahead of his own workload, surely.
…And it would just be an entirely coincidental, happy accident if while doing this he managed to find out what in the name of the spirits above was happening.
And so he had slowly, carefully moved his ship in such a way that he was currently orbiting in what he hoped was the blind spot of most of the ships of any higher-ups.
…Purely so as to, uh- better position his drone’s entry point into the atmosphere, yes! Rest assured, he was only motivated by- um… a-avoiding negative weather patterns. …Or something like that.
Once in position, he released and directed it towards the planetary surface.
If lumigogs had sweat glands, his would have been in nervous overdrive as the drone descended through the atmosphere.
Would he be detected? Would this all be for naught?
He waited, glancing between the ships around him and the drone’s interface on his monitor, but from his readings on the other vessels it seemed like all the command ships’ sensors were focused on the bigger population centers of the planet. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He was safe- if only for now.
…He’d have to focus on a rural area. Despite every loophole and excuse he could come up with, he’d still be much better off remaining undetected and not interfering in whatever might be going on in more concentrated pockets of the species. It would likely take much longer to gather information this way than heading towards the larger population centers in search of clues, but he could still poke around on the sly for any information he could tease out from the surroundings.
…And hopefully then he could finally get the answers he so desperately craved.
<“Alter descent velocity. Slow to 50% speed and activate autopilot mode.”>
Y’ggdrasog looked at the aerial scans, deciding that what seemed to be an area focused on harvesting crops with a long road running alongside it dotted with the occasional primitive ground vehicle would be as good a place to start as any.
He highlighted the road with a flick of a clawed finger.
<”Descend to 100 meters above planet surface, then follow highlighted path at 20% speed. Proceed.”>
As the drone dutifully obeyed his commands and traveled along the stretch of paved road for a time, he was surprised at the lack of humans to be found despite the vehicles present. Each and every one had seemingly been abandoned; they all sat still, unmoving. His curiosity piqued, he highlighted a few of them in the control interface.
<“Halt forward momentum. Descend to 50 meters from planetary surface. Scan and analyze condition of marked targets.”>
As he finished his verbal command, the familiar synthesized voice of his drone’s onboard computer blared to life from the speakers of his terminal.
He shook his head, puzzled.
<“What happened here…? …Alright, ascend, 300 meters from planetary surface. Continue forward movement following the highlighted path, 15% speed.”>
Farther and farther the road stretched, but he didn’t see a single human upon it, nor in the surrounding area. He sighed and absent-mindedly gazed around at the surrounding environment. He couldn’t help but marvel at how- well, alien it all looked. The taller plant life he saw appeared to be quite complex, their stems covered in thick fiber and their extremities full of- oh, what was the word, “leaves?
…He hadn’t paid all that much attention during the portions of his schooling that covered exotic alien plant life found on feral worlds and the various homeworlds of the other races of the Collective. He figured he’d never really need to interact with much beyond the giant fungal pods, great lichen growths and so on of his homeworld. He was a spacer for spirits’ sake, not a xenobotanist, and-
…Wait, what was that?
<“Halt forward momentum. Reverse 50 meters. Pan visual sensors left, 30 degrees.”>
He squinted at the incoming visual feed. He was right, there was something laying in that ditch! Probably just a random piece of detritus, but better safe than sorry. He highlighted it.
<”Scan target. Assess.”>
<”...Descend toward target, 5% speed.. 2%... halt.”>
His eyes narrowed further as he zoomed the forward visual lens in. Whatever it was, it looked to be a biped, and-
…Wait a minute, he recognized that body structure! Spirits be praised, this had to be one of the members of the new species!
It- they, he corrected himself- had pale skin, long, dark brown fur atop their head, and were wearing clothing covering their torso and legs- though much of it was stained red, running all down the left side of their body.
What were they doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? And why were they laying in a ditch, unmoving? …Were they ok?
<”Scan target, and establish connection to ship auto-doc subsystem. Assess physical condition and cross-reference with known anatomical data of species designation: human.”>
Y’ggdrasog nervously swallowed, trying to center himself and focus despite what he had just heard. Well, that certainly answered that; no, she very much was NOT ok. Whatever had happened to her, it really messed her up.
<”Analyze if damage sustained is life-threatening without intervention given circumstances and location.”>
He swore under his breath.
<”...Expand and clarify analysis.”>
<”C-certainty of analysis conclusion…?”>
He put his head in his hands, his bioluminescence flickering between several colors- none of them good. Spirits above... She was going to die unless someone helped her!
…
…But he was in no position to do so…
He knew deep down that he was deluding himself if he thought he could get away with this if he was caught. No amount of loophole abuse and“legitimate” excuses could save him from severe negative repercussions, not when it came to something as serious as first contact.
He was already risking enough as it was…
Maybe he could let someone in one of the other ships know- no, that would give away that he’d been poking around on the sly…
Maybe- maybe someone else would find her in time, and they could save her? Or maybe, despite the odds, she might just get better on her own? Even if it took her past the 1.3 cycle mark to do so, there was still a- his brow furrowed as he did the math- 0.0000028% chance that she could survive, and a chance was a chance! …Right…?
No one would know if he didn’t intervene. It would be so easy- no chance of getting caught, no risk, no danger, just pull the drone-prone back to the ship, return to his original position, scrub the flight logs, and-
…
……
…No.
No, she’s not.
He opened his eyes and spoke, voice full of grim certainty.
<”Descend to two meters above highlighted subject. Very, VERY carefully use stasis field to attach to subject, entangle her matter with an equivalent mass of carbon from the fabricator hold, then return to quantum anchor point with cargo and safely lower the subject prone beside the drone chassis. Proceed.”>
He got up from the terminal and took off for the drone bay as fast as his taloned feet could carry him, one thought repeating itself over and over in his head as he went, a mantra of sorts:
2023.03.22 15:11 Ronrel [WTS]Ronrel's Shop Hull E-$800, Merchantman LTI-$499, Carrack LTI-$499, Buying store credits 55% PayPal Almost all ships with LTI. Visit us today ! PayPal secure trades and Bitcoin accept Make request for chain of upgrades if you did not found needed item in list.
I accept PayPal and accept Bitcoin. If you got problems PM me here, уou can join Discord server or send me DM to Lernor#3995 in Discord
If you dont find here what you are looking for, feel free to ask. Sometimes Upgrade could be perfectly replaced with a Chain of Upgrades
HOW TO BUY:
If you're newcomer, you can register using my referral link STAR-F6R6-H7PN to get 5000 UEC for free.
Send me PM
Send me PM
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submitted by Ronrel to Starcitizen_trades [link] [comments]
If you dont find here what you are looking for, feel free to ask. Sometimes Upgrade could be perfectly replaced with a Chain of Upgrades
HOW TO BUY:
- Please get your RSI verification If troubles occurs, PM me. We can solve this together.
- Send me a ✉ PM with **ITEM(s)
- Comment on my store post with "PM'd"
If you're newcomer, you can register using my referral link STAR-F6R6-H7PN to get 5000 UEC for free.
- NOTE: GMT +3 here
- NOTE: *LTI - Means (Life Time Insurance)
- NOTE: **CCUed - (Cross-Chassis-Upgraded) is a ship which was made by upgrading cheap concept ship to the finished ship with upgrades. If you reclaim it - you will get only base ship and all upgrades will be lost (you'll get store credits for it with melt price).
- NOTE: Didn't find what you want? Write PM to me and I'll do everything to find it.
- NOTE: Guide for new users
- NOTE: Gifts cannot be simply returned to sender and refunded due to their nature
- NOTE: All fees are included in prices
Buying store credits 55% of MELT by PayPal. You are verified and send ships first. Payment goes second.
SHIPS BY MY SPECIAL OFFER
| Type | Name | My price, $ | Insurance |
|---|---|---|---|
| Limited | Hull E | $800 | 120 month |
| Starter | CUTTER IAE STARTER PACK | $95.00 | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Standalone | Cutter plus Groundswell Paint | $65.00 | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Standalone | C8R Pisces plus Code Blue Paint | $84.00 | Lifetime [LTI] |
CCUed SHIPS with Life Time Insurance
| Title | My Price | Type | Insurance |
|---|---|---|---|
| Polaris | $550.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| A2 Hercules | $550.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Hammerhead | $525.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Nautilus | $575.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Odyssey | $550.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Perseus | $510.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Merchantman | $499.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Carrack | $499.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Carrack BIS | $550.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Orion | $530.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Liberator | $530.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| M2 Hercules | $460.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| 600i Explorer | $420.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Hull D | $420.00 | Concept | Lifeti |
| Galaxy | $380.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Prowler | $390.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| 600i Touring | $400.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Reclaimer | $399.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Genesis | $400.00 | Production | Lifetime [LTI] |
| C2 Hercules | $350.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Valkyrie | $360.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Hull C | $330.00 | Production | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Endeavor | $330.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Crucible | $330.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Starfarer Gemini | $320.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Caterpillar | $300.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Redeemer | $290.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| MOLE | $290.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Constellation Aquila | $290.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Starfarer | $280.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Eclipse | $280.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Vanguard Harbinger | $280.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Retaliator Bomber | $270.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Vanguard Sentinel | $270.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Blade | $270.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Apollo Medivac | $270.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Vanguard Warden | $250.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Mercury | $240.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Mercury BIS | $260.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Apollo Triage | $265.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Ares Inferno | $258.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Ares Ion | $258.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| 400i | $253.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Constellation Andromeda | $258.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Scorpius | $272.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Vanguard Hoplite | $258.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Cutlass Steel | $257.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Railen | $263.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Terrapin | $258.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Defender | $258.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| San'tok.yāi | $258.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Corsair | $253.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Vulcan | $240.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Hurricane | $240.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| F7C-M Super Hornet Heartseeker | $240.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Constellation Taurus | $240.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Sabre Comet | $220.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| F7C-M Super Hornet | $210.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Freelancer MIS | $220.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Cutlass Blue | $220.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| F7C Hornet Wildfire | $220.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Khartu-Al | $200.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Sabre | $200.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Gladiator | $220.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| A1 Spirit | $205.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| E1 Spirit | $190.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| C1 Spirit | $160.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Prospector | $183.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Razor EX | $183.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Freelancer MAX | $178.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Retaliator | $178.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Razor LX | $178.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| SRV | $178.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Mantis | $178.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Expanse | $178.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Razor | $186.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| F7C-R Hornet Tracker | $183.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Hull B | $183.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Vulture | $218.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Ballista | $183.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Freelancer DUR | $173.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Cutlass Red | $173.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| 350r | $163.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| F7C-S Hornet Ghost | $163.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| RAFT | $163.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Nova | $154.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Legionnaire | $154.00 | Concept | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Talon | $146.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Talon Shrike | $147.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| F7C Hornet | $143.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Freelancer | $143.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Buccaneer | $143.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Gladius Valiant | $143.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Centurion | $143.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| M50 | $147.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Cutlass Black | $147.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Hawk | $147.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Reliant Mako | $143.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
| Gladius | $133.00 | Flyable | Lifetime [LTI] |
SHIP PACKS
| Insurance | Pledge | Title | Ships Included |
|---|---|---|---|
| LTI | $649.00 / 5 | Package - Entrepreneur Pack | |
| 6 | $498.00 / 5 | Packs - Ground Militia Pack | Spartan, Ballista, Nova, 2 x Cyclons Standalone ships |
| 12 | $464.00 / 3 | Packs - CDF Rally in Stanton Pack | Arrow, Hurricane, Sabre Standalone ships |
| 120 | $399.00 / 2 | Packs - Dual Enforcers Pack | Scorpius + Mantis Standalone ships |
| 120 | $499.00 / 2 | Packs - Swords of Fortitude - IAE | Ares Ion + Ares Inferno Standalone ships |
| 12 | $749.00 / 3 | Packs - CDF Call to Arms Pack | Eclipse, Gladiator, Retaliator Bomber Standalone ships |
| 120 | $769.00 / 3 | Packs - Ground Assault Pack | M2 Hercules + 2 x Nova Tanks Standalone |
UPGRADES
| Type | From | To | Insurance | My Price |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Upgrade | Nox | 100i | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Avenger Titan | 125a | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 300i | 135c | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | HoverQuad | 300i | $60.00 | |
| Upgrade | X1 Force | 300i | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Avenger Titan | 300i | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Avenger Titan | 315p | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 315p | 325a | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nova | 350r | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Railen | 400i | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Railen | 400i | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Prowler | 600i Explorer | 120 | $35.00 |
| Upgrade | 600i Touring | 600i Explorer | $80.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | 600i Explorer | $450.00 | |
| Upgrade | C2 Hercules | 600i Touring | $70.00 | |
| Upgrade | Khartu-Al | A1 Spirit | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Carrack Expedition w/C8X | A2 Hercules | $125.00 | |
| Upgrade | Hammerhead | A2 Hercules | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nautilus | A2 Hercules | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Perseus | A2 Hercules | $150.00 | |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Apollo Medivac | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Warden | Apollo Medivac | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Steel | Apollo Triage | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Andromeda | Apollo Triage | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Hoplite | Apollo Triage | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Steel | Ares Inferno | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Taurus | Ares Inferno | $80.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Andromeda | Ares Inferno | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Scorpius | Ares Inferno | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Steel | Ares Ion | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Andromeda | Ares Ion | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Scorpius | Ares Ion | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Avenger Titan | Avenger Stalker | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 325a | Avenger Titan Renegade | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Avenger Warlock | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Freelancer DUR | Ballista | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Red | Ballista | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | RAFT | Ballista | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Blade | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Warden | Blade | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Black | Buccaneer | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Black | C1 Spirit | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Hull C | C2 Hercules | 120 | $50.00 |
| Upgrade | Starfarer Gemini | C2 Hercules | $80.00 | |
| Upgrade | Redeemer | C2 Hercules | $150.00 | |
| Upgrade | Valkyrie | C2 Hercules | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Mustang Gamma | C8R Pisces | 120 | $10.00 |
| Upgrade | Avenger Titan | C8R Pisces | 120 | $10.00 |
| Upgrade | Aurora LX | C8X Pisces Expedition | 120 | $10.00 |
| Upgrade | M2 Hercules | Carrack | 120 | $80.00 |
| Upgrade | M2 Hercules | Carrack | $100.00 | |
| Upgrade | Orion | Carrack | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Eclipse | Caterpillar | 120 | $30.00 |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Caterpillar | 120 | $70.00 |
| Upgrade | Redeemer | Caterpillar | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Caterpillar | $99.00 | |
| Upgrade | 400i | Caterpillar | $160.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Warden | Caterpillar | $140.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Harbinger | Caterpillar | $80.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladius | Centurion | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Prospector | Constellation Andromeda | $100.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Constellation Andromeda | $330.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Constellation Andromeda | $320.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladiator | Constellation Taurus | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladius | Constellation Taurus | $200.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Constellation Taurus | $230.00 | |
| Upgrade | Terrapin | Corsair | 120 | $30.00 |
| Upgrade | Defender | Corsair | 120 | $30.00 |
| Upgrade | Vulcan | Corsair | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Redeemer | Crucible | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Starfarer Gemini | Crucible | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Spartan | Cutlass Black | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Cutlass Black | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Cutlass Black | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Khartu-Al | Cutlass Blue | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Sabre | Cutlass Blue | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladius | Cutlass Red | $90.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Cutlass Red | $120.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vulcan | Cutlass Steel | $35.00 | |
| Upgrade | Arrow | Cyclone AA | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 125a | Cyclone MT | 120 | $15.00 |
| Upgrade | 325a | Cyclone MT | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Dragonfly Black | Cyclone MT | $70.00 | |
| Upgrade | 300i | Cyclone RC | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 300i | Cyclone RN | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 300i | Cyclone TR | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Hurricane | Defender | $25.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-M Super Hornet Heartseeker | Defender | $25.00 | |
| Upgrade | MPUV C | Dragonfly Black | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Razor | E1 Spirit | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Sentinel | Eclipse | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Harbinger | Eclipse | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Caterpillar | Endeavor | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Starfarer Gemini | Endeavor | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Razor | Expanse | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-R Hornet Tracker | Expanse | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | F7C Hornet | $70.00 | |
| Upgrade | Khartu-Al | F7C Hornet Wildfire | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Prospector | F7C-M Super Hornet | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | A1 Spirit | F7C-M Super Hornet | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Freelancer MIS | F7C-M Super Hornet | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-M Super Hornet | F7C-M Super Hornet Heartseeker | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Red | F7C-R Hornet Tracker | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nova | F7C-S Hornet Ghost | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Black | Freelancer | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Freelancer | $60.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-S Hornet Ghost | Freelancer DUR | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Red | Freelancer MAX | 120 | $15.00 |
| Upgrade | Razor | Freelancer MAX | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Khartu-Al | Freelancer MIS | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | ROC | G12 | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 300i | G12a | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | ROC | G12r | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Valkyrie | Genesis | $25.00 | |
| Upgrade | Prospector | Gladiator | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Gladius | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Black | Gladius Valiant | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Merchantman | Hammerhead | 120 | $99.00 |
| Upgrade | Odyssey | Hammerhead | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Reliant Mako | Hawk | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladius | Hawk | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Herald | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 300i | Hull A | $60.00 | |
| Upgrade | Arrow | Hull A | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | RAFT | Hull B | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Freelancer DUR | Hull B | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Starfarer Gemini | Hull C | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | C2 Hercules | Hull D | $100.00 | |
| Upgrade | Prowler | Hull D | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-M Super Hornet | Hurricane | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Taurus | Hurricane | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Sabre Comet | Hurricane | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Prospector | Khartu-Al | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladiator | Khartu-Al | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Talon | Legionnaire | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | M2 Hercules | Liberator | $110.00 | |
| Upgrade | 600i Explorer | M2 Hercules | $65.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladius | M50 | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Red | Mantis | 120 | $15.00 |
| Upgrade | M2 Hercules | Merchantman | $130.00 | |
| Upgrade | 600i Explorer | Merchantman | $350.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Steel | Mercury | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Hoplite | Mercury | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Corsair | Mercury | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Andromeda | Mercury | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Apollo Triage | Mercury | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Mercury | $210.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Mercury | $360.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Harbinger | MOLE | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | 300i | Mustang Delta | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Perseus | Nautilus | $100.00 | |
| Upgrade | Cutlass Black | Nova | $35.00 | |
| Upgrade | Talon | Nova | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Talon Shrike | Nova | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | M50 | Nova | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Ranger TR | Nox | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Aurora LN | Nox | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Dragonfly Black | Nox | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Carrack | Odyssey | $200.00 | |
| Upgrade | Perseus | Odyssey | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | M2 Hercules | Orion | $110.00 | |
| Upgrade | Merchantman | Perseus | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Carrack | Perseus | $150.00 | |
| Upgrade | Carrack w/C8X | Perseus | $110.00 | |
| Upgrade | Hammerhead | Polaris | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Perseus | Polaris | $95.00 | |
| Upgrade | Ballista | Prospector | 120 | $15.00 |
| Upgrade | Cyclone MT | Prospector | $160.00 | |
| Upgrade | C2 Hercules | Prowler | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Reclaimer | Prowler | $80.00 | |
| Upgrade | 600i Touring | Prowler | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C Hornet | RAFT | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Defender | Railen | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Terrapin | Railen | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | San'tok.yДЃi | Railen | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Aurora MR | Ranger CV | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Aurora MR | Ranger RC | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Aurora LX | Ranger TR | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | MPUV C | Ranger TR | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Ballista | Razor | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Freelancer MAX | Razor EX | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Razor | Razor LX | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Valkyrie | Reclaimer | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Hoplite | Redeemer | $180.00 | |
| Upgrade | Avenger Titan | Reliant Kore | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladius | Reliant Mako | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nomad | Reliant Sen | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | 325a | Reliant Tana | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Razor | Retaliator | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-R Hornet Tracker | Retaliator | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | 400i | Retaliator Bomber | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Retaliator Bomber | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Warden | Retaliator Bomber | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | 325a | ROC-DS | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Gladiator | Sabre | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-M Super Hornet | Sabre Comet | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | A1 Spirit | Sabre Comet | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Hurricane | San'tok.yДЃi | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vulcan | San'tok.yДЃi | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vulcan | Scorpius | $80.00 | |
| Upgrade | Freelancer | Scorpius | $260.00 | |
| Upgrade | Arrow | Spartan | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-R Hornet Tracker | SRV | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Harbinger | Starfarer | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | MOLE | Starfarer Gemini | 120 | $50.00 |
| Upgrade | Buccaneer | Talon | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C Hornet | Talon | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Freelancer | Talon Shrike | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C Hornet | Talon Shrike | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vulcan | Terrapin | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Starfarer Gemini | Valkyrie | 120 | $35.00 |
| Upgrade | Crucible | Valkyrie | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | MOLE | Valkyrie | $120.00 | |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Vanguard Harbinger | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Warden | Vanguard Harbinger | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Mercury | Vanguard Harbinger | $50.00 | |
| Upgrade | Railen | Vanguard Hoplite | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | 400i | Vanguard Sentinel | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Apollo Triage | Vanguard Sentinel | 120 | $25.00 |
| Upgrade | Vanguard Warden | Vanguard Sentinel | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Corsair | Vanguard Warden | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Ares Inferno | Vanguard Warden | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | 400i | Vanguard Warden | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Apollo Triage | Vanguard Warden | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | F7C-M Super Hornet | Vulcan | $40.00 | |
| Upgrade | Constellation Taurus | Vulcan | $20.00 | |
| Upgrade | Sabre Comet | Vulcan | $30.00 | |
| Upgrade | Aurora LX | X1 | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Dragonfly Black | X1 Force | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Nox | X1 Force | $10.00 | |
| Upgrade | Aurora LN | X1 Velocity | $10.00 |
STANDALONE SHIP
| Type | Item | Insurance | Price |
|---|---|---|---|
| Standalone ship | A2 Hercules | 120 | $ 799,00 |
| Standalone ship | Aurora LN | 120 | $ 55,00 |
| Standalone ship | C2 Hercules | 120 | $ 450,00 |
| Standalone ship | Carrack | 120 | $ 650,00 |
| Standalone ship | M2 Hercules | 120 | $ 570,00 |
| Standalone ship | M2 Hercules + 2 Nova tanks | 120 | $ 770,00 |
| Standalone ship | MPUV C | 120 | $ 50,00 |
| Standalone ship | Mustang Alpha | 120 | $ 55,00 |
| Standalone ship | Nova | 120 | $ 150,00 |
| Standalone ship | Nox | 120 | $ 55,00 |
| Standalone ship | Scorpius | 120 | $ 260,00 |
| Standalone ship | Scorpius + Mantis | 120 | $ 400,00 |
| Standalone ship | 600i Explorer | 24 | $ 500,00 |
| Standalone ship | C2 Hercules | 24 | $ 420,00 |
| Standalone ship | Carrack | 24 | $ 620,00 |
| Standalone ship | Caterpillar | 24 | $ 320,00 |
| Standalone ship | Cutlass Black | 24 | $ 110,00 |
| Standalone ship | Defender | 24 | $ 250,00 |
| Standalone ship | Freelancer MAX | 24 | $ 170,00 |
| Standalone ship | Gladius | 24 | $ 110,00 |
| Standalone ship | Mercury | 24 | $ 280,00 |
| Standalone ship | MOLE | 24 | $ 325,00 |
| Standalone ship | Razor | 24 | $ 165,00 |
| Standalone ship | Reclaimer | 24 | $ 420,00 |
| Standalone ship | Retaliator Bomber | 24 | $ 299,00 |
| Standalone ship | Sabre | 24 | $ 190,00 |
| Standalone ship | Carrack | 12 | $ 650,00 |
| Standalone ship | Cutlass Red | 12 | $ 155,00 |
| Standalone ship | Freelancer | 12 | $ 120,00 |
| Standalone ship | Freelancer DUR | 12 | $ 155,00 |
| Standalone ship | Freelancer MIS | 12 | $ 195,00 |
| Standalone ship | Razor | 12 | $ 165,00 |
| Standalone ship | Razor EX | 12 | $ 175,00 |
| Standalone ship | Razor LX | 12 | $ 170,00 |
| Standalone ship | Talon Shrike | 12 | $ 125,00 |
SUBSCRIBERS EXCLUSIVE
| Type | From | My price, $ |
|---|---|---|
| Subscribers Exclusive | "Caudillo" Helmets Pack #1 by CC's Conversions | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | "Caudillo" Helmets Pack #2 by CC's Conversions | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | "Caudillo" Helmets Pack #3 by CC's Conversions | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Adventurer Collection by Element Authority | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Atzkav 'Deadeye' Sniper Rifle | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Atzkav 'Igniter' Sniper Rifle | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Atzkav 'Venom' Sniper Rifle | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Aztalan Galena Armor | $14,70 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Aztalan Tamarack Armor | $14,70 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Brands of the 'Verse Pack #1 | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Brands of the 'Verse Pack #2 | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Cold Front Collection | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | GP-33 MOD 'Ashfall' Grenade Launcher | $9,45 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | GP-33 MOD 'Copperhead' Grenade Launcher | $9,45 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | GP-33 MOD 'Thunderclap' Grenade Launcher | $9,45 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | 'Igniter' Lightning Bolt Co. Weapons Pack | $13,65 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Life in the 'Verse Shirts Pack #1 | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Life in the 'Verse Shirts Pack #2 | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Mandible Firestrike Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Mandible Sandcrawler Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Mandible Snowfly Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Neoni "Jami" Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Neoni "Onna" Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Neoni "Tengubi" Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord "Dust Storm" Armor Set | $11,03 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord "Predator" Armor Set | $11,03 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord "Riptide" Armor Set | $11,03 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord "Stinger" Armor Set | $11,03 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord "Supernova" Armor Set | $11,03 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord "Switchback" Armor Set | $11,03 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord Helmets "Double Trouble" Pack | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord Helmets "Forces of Nature" Pack | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Overlord Helmets "Silent Strike" Pack | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Parasite Replica Helmet (Original) | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Polar Vortex Collection | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Pyro RYT 'Bloodline' Multi-Tool | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Pyro RYT 'Ghost' Multi-Tool | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Pyro RYT 'Mirage' Multi-Tool | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | QuikFlarePro Pack | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | QuikFlarePro Pack Deluxe | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Pathfinder Arm Armor | $5,25 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Pathfinder Helmet | $5,25 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Pathfinder Leg Armor | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Pathfinder Torso Armor | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Pathfinder Undersuit | $4,20 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Rust Society Helmet | $5,25 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Voyager Arm Armor | $5,25 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Voyager Leg Armor | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Voyager Torso Armor | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | RSI Venture Voyager Undersuit | $4,20 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Savior Collection 'Iceborn' Paladin Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Savior Collection 'Nightfire' Paladin Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Savior Collection 'Singularity' Paladin Helmet | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Sawtooth "Bloodstone" Combat Knife | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Sawtooth "Sirocco" Combat Knife | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Sawtooth "Squall" Combat Knife | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Star Kitten 'Damon' Helmet and Armor Set | $14,70 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Star Kitten Helmet and Armor Set | $14,70 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Star Kitten 'Sally' Helmet and Armor Set | $14,70 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Stegman's Cordimon "Voyager" Complete Outfit | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Stegman's IndVest “Pathfinder” Complete Outfit | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | UltiFlex FSK-8 "Bloodline" Combat Knife | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | UltiFlex FSK-8 "Ghost" Combat Knife | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | UltiFlex FSK-8 "Mirage" Combat Knife | $6,30 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Urban Collection by Element Authority | $7,35 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | 'Venom' Lightning Bolt Co. Weapons Pack | $13,65 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | WowBlast 'Blue' Desperado Toy Pistol | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | WowBlast 'Orange' Desperado Toy Pistol | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | WowBlast 'Red' Desperado Toy Pistol | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | WowBlast 'Teal' Desperado Toy Pistol | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Yubarev 'Deadeye' Pistol | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Yubarev 'Igniter' Pistol | $8,40 |
| Subscribers Exclusive | Yubarev 'Venom' Pistol | $8,40 |
OTHER STUFF
| Type | Name | My price, $ |
|---|---|---|
| Gear | Greycat Quicksilver Paint and Armor Kit | $18,90 |
| Gear | Greycat Harvester Paint and Armor Kit | $18,90 |
| Gear | Greycat Black Cherry Paint and Armor Kit | $18,90 |
| Package | Hornet F7C, 6 Month Insurance | $131,25 |
| Package | Avenger Titan Starter Pack, 3 Month Insurance | $73,50 |
| Package | Anvil Arrow Starter Pack, 3 Month Insurance | $94,50 |
| Packs | Ground Assault Pack M2 Hercules + 2 Nova Tanks | $770,00 |
| Packs | Greycat Miner’s Megapack Standard Edition | $119,70 |
| Paints | 100 series - Blue Ametrine Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | 100 series - Flame Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | 100 Series - Frostbite Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | 100 Series - ILW 2951 Paint Pack | $16,90 |
| Paints | 100 Series - Invictus Blue and Gold Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | 100 series - Slate Camo Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | 400i - Afterglow Paint | $15 |
| Paints | 400i - Calacatta Paint | $15 |
| Paints | 400i - Stratus Paint | $15 |
| Paints | Buccaneer - Ghoulish Green Paint | $9,10 |
| Paints | Carrack - Polar Paint | $24,70 |
| Paints | Carrack - Stormbringer Paint | $18,20 |
| Paints | Caterpillar - Ghoulish Green Paint | $14,30 |
| Paints | Caterpillar - Polar Paint | $14,30 |
| Paints | Constellation - Black Heron Paint | $9,75 |
| Paints | Constellation - Heron Paint Pack | $23,40 |
| Paints | Constellation - Orange Heron Paint | $9,75 |
| Paints | Constellation - White Heron Paint | $9,75 |
| Paints | Cutlass - Coalfire Paint | $5,85 |
| Paints | Cutlass - DefenseCon Paint Pack | $14,95 |
| Paints | Cutlass - Ghoulish Green Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | Cyclone - ILW 2951 Paint Pack | $16,90 |
| Paints | Defender - Polar Paint | $14,30 |
| Paints | Defender - Stormbringer Paint | $9,75 |
| Paints | Dragonfly - Coalfire Paint | $3,90 |
| Paints | Dragonfly - DefenseCon Paint Pack | $10,40 |
| Paints | Dragonfly - Ghoulish Green Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | Dragonfly - Mistwalker Paint | $6,50 |
| Paints | Ghoulish Green 4 Paint Pack | $36,40 |
| Paints | Gladius - Frostbite Paint | $9,10 |
| Paints | Gladius - Timberline Paint | $5,85 |
| Paints | Greycat Miner’s Paint Pack | $9,94 |
| Paints | Hammerhead - Polar Paint | $24,70 |
| Paints | Hammerhead - Stormbringer Paint | $18,20 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - 3 Paint Pack | $45,24 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - 4 Paint Pack | $52,52 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - Argent Paint | $20,80 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - Cerberus Paint | $14,95 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - Draco Paint | $14,95 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - Dryad Paint | $20,80 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - Frostbite Paint | $20,80 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - ILW 2951 Paint Pack | $86,45 |
| Paints | Hercules Starlifter - Timberline Paint | $14,95 |
| Paints | Hornet - ILW 2951 Paint Pack | $24,05 |
| Paints | Khartu-al - Polar Paint | $11,70 |
| Paints | Khartu-al - Stormbringer Paint | $7,80 |
| Paints | M50 - Polar Paint | $3,90 |
| Paints | M50 - Stormbringer Paint | $3,90 |
| Paints | Mercury Star Runner - 3 Paint Pack | $23,40 |
| Paints | Mercury Star Runner - 5 Paint Pack | $39,98 |
| Paints | Mercury Star Runner - Equinox Paint | $9,75 |
| Paints | Nomad - 3 Paint Pack | $14,04 |
| Paints | Nomad - 5 Paint Pack | $26,81 |
| Paints | Nova Tank - Ember Storm Paint | $5,85 |
| Paints | Nova Tank - Paint Pack | $16,64 |
| Paints | Prowler - Ocellus Paint | $20,80 |
| Paints | Prowler - Polar Paint | $20,80 |
| Paints | Prowler - Stormbringer Paint | $14,95 |
| Paints | Railen - Hyaotan Paint | $14,30 |
| Paints | Redeemer - Polar Paint | $16,90 |
| Paints | Redeemer - Seraphim Paint | $11,70 |
| Paints | Redeemer - Underworld Paint | $11,70 |
| Paints | Retaliator - Grey Paint | $9,75 |
| Paints | Retaliator - Twilight Paint | $14,30 |
| Paints | ROC - Black Cherry Paint | $3,90 |
| Paints | ROC - Harvester Paint | $3,90 |
| Paints | ROC - Quicksilver Paint | $3,90 |
| Paints | Sabre - Polar Paint | $11,70 |
| Paints | Sabre - Stormbringer Paint | $7,80 |
| Paints | Spartan - Polar Paint | $9,10 |
| Paints | Spartan - Ranger Paint | $9,10 |
| Paints | Spartan - Sidewinder Paint | $5,85 |
| Paints | Talon - Crimson Paint | $15,85 |
| Paints | Vanguard - Frostbite Paint | $14,30 |
2023.03.22 15:07 MephobicBlonde [Let’s Build] a d100 list of ‘Echoes from the Past’
Hello! This is a continuation of my last post here (which is now hidden to follow the sub's rules), so I can separate old answers from new ones. I need some more help brainstorming ideas for my D&D realm known as the Isles of Etherwolfe.
From my last post: "Due to a worldbuilding secret I shall not share due to my players definitely spying on my profile, spectral ‘Echoes’ from past worlds have a chance of slipping through the cracks, appearing as cryptic ethereal images that often have no connection to the world. They are simply remnants of previous worlds, other civilizations, “alien” species [and D&D races] like strange other version of elves, etc. These Echoes could even be specific [worldbuilding] references from your world or other D&D worlds, anything! Make them strange, make them mysterious, make them unexplained, and let’s create a cool list of ideas!"
Update 1: I've received a ton of interesting 'scenes' for these echoes, but from now on, let's try to make things more stagnant, like strange objects appearing in places they shouldn't, or ruins of old castles, etc. For instance, 11) A lone sailing ship, lilting to the side. The ropes and wheel still gently move despite the lack of any crew. u/HordeOfAngryBees, or 32) a ruined and partially collapsed castle, structured using large brass pipes; once a center of learning and discovery for steam powered technology u/nexorati. Don't forget that these echoes can be specific references to other worlds (I've gotten some cool Eberron and Faerun stuff, but let's keep expanding!). Try to keep them relatively grounded in medieval High Fantasy. I appreciate the modern references, but I think we've collected enough of them in the table!
Update 2: Try to keep your responses a bit short, at around 3-ish lines. As I input your responses into my document, I've been trimming some of them down or beefing them up to match the rest, but their primary idea has obviously stayed the same :)
Update 3: Thank you all so much for your help, this is turning out great! If I continue to get responses, I may even go over 100 simply because the possibilities are endless and random. Anything can slip through the cracks from these past worlds... Let's get crazy, lets get mysterious, lets get unexplained, lets get... echoey. I don't know.
Echoes from the Past:
Note: Most, if not all of these Echoes should appear Spectral, as if being seen on the Ethereal Plane.
d100. Echo
submitted by MephobicBlonde to d100 [link] [comments]
From my last post: "Due to a worldbuilding secret I shall not share due to my players definitely spying on my profile, spectral ‘Echoes’ from past worlds have a chance of slipping through the cracks, appearing as cryptic ethereal images that often have no connection to the world. They are simply remnants of previous worlds, other civilizations, “alien” species [and D&D races] like strange other version of elves, etc. These Echoes could even be specific [worldbuilding] references from your world or other D&D worlds, anything! Make them strange, make them mysterious, make them unexplained, and let’s create a cool list of ideas!"
Update 1: I've received a ton of interesting 'scenes' for these echoes, but from now on, let's try to make things more stagnant, like strange objects appearing in places they shouldn't, or ruins of old castles, etc. For instance, 11) A lone sailing ship, lilting to the side. The ropes and wheel still gently move despite the lack of any crew. u/HordeOfAngryBees, or 32) a ruined and partially collapsed castle, structured using large brass pipes; once a center of learning and discovery for steam powered technology u/nexorati. Don't forget that these echoes can be specific references to other worlds (I've gotten some cool Eberron and Faerun stuff, but let's keep expanding!). Try to keep them relatively grounded in medieval High Fantasy. I appreciate the modern references, but I think we've collected enough of them in the table!
Update 2: Try to keep your responses a bit short, at around 3-ish lines. As I input your responses into my document, I've been trimming some of them down or beefing them up to match the rest, but their primary idea has obviously stayed the same :)
Update 3: Thank you all so much for your help, this is turning out great! If I continue to get responses, I may even go over 100 simply because the possibilities are endless and random. Anything can slip through the cracks from these past worlds... Let's get crazy, lets get mysterious, lets get unexplained, lets get... echoey. I don't know.
Echoes from the Past:
Note: Most, if not all of these Echoes should appear Spectral, as if being seen on the Ethereal Plane.
d100. Echo
- A cathedral dedicated to an unknown deity (flower symbol) inhabited by strange elves.
- A small river flowing north, which suddenly turns upward and floats into the air and disappears
- A war-torn battlefield strewn with rusted armor and weapons, still-flaming arrows scatter the ground
- Ruins of a cyclopean city emerging from a shifting river-bank. Bodies of petrified giants trapped in poses from everyday life. u/MaxSizeIs
- A mana-dense vault filled with thousands of crystalline discs six inches across that shine with a reflective rainbow in the light. u/MaxSizeIs
- The ruins of a greek-style bank run by a collection of metallic-skinned halflings.
- Various flapping banners staked into the ground representing the different elements.
- A row of hundreds of humanoid statues. In fact, they are the same statue expressed over hundreds of years. The ones in the front are broken and weathered, the ones in the middle gleam with paint and polish, and the final ones are uncarved plinths of stone. u/onepostandbye
- A stone building can be seen in different eras depending what side you view it from. Entering from the basement entrance allows PCs to interact with a disoriented shopkeeper. u/onepostandbye
- The upper slope of this area displays many tilting grave markers. Where the land has eroded, spectral skeletons float as if in repose, their spectral headstones floating six feet above. u/onepostandbye
- A lone sailing ship, lilting to the side. The ropes and wheel still gently move despite the lack of any crew. u/HordeOfAngryBees
- A massive, thick wall of trees standing in a circle. Inside of the circle is a clearing where snow gently falls around an old cabin. u/HordeOfAngryBees
- A colossal warforged titan stands atop a hill, its sadness palpable. It slams its fists down on a column of soldiers, the ground trembling from the force. More soldiers advance, siege weapons primed to fire. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A flying ship with a ring of fire descends over an elegant Victorian city, full of twinkling lights. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A lightning rail stops at a station in a small wilderness town, its energy connecting to the conductor stones in the ground. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- On another hill, shrouded in fog, a dilapidated one-story cabin emits a beam of blue light, summoning zombies and skeletons clothed in ruined soldier equipment begin to emerge from the fog. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- An echo of a community endlessly replays one hour of mundane village life. The village met some terrible end, and when PCs move close to persons, objects, or buildings, the echo temporarily dissolves to show the current state of the place, which is ugly and sad. u/onepostandbye
- The father guided his son, teaching him how to properly aim and bend the bowstring. In the lush forest, a deer suddenly appeared in the clearing. Whispering instructions, the father watched as the boy released the arrow. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The mother watched unamused as her children fought over a toy in the front yard of the tree house. She abruptly stopped the fight by taking away the toy and instructed them on how to treat each other better. The scolding brought tears of sorrow to the children, but the mother was quick to comfort them with a hug and kisses, reassuring them of her love. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A grandpa and their granddaughter ventured deep into the magical forest together to collect wild berries. As they wandered, grandpa spotted something dangerous lurking in the shadows. He quickly drew his granddaughter closer and shielded them with his magical staff, ready to protect her from the unseen danger. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- An exhausted salaryman walking from the glass box of their office to their old Geo Metro, while above them looms a planet, of awesome size, lit by no sun. A dark titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep turbulent oceans. u/MaxSizeIs
- Impossibly tall metal towers made of impossibly slender sticks, while lonely red light pulses slowly at it's top. Disturbing black birds hunch menacingly, roosting upon it in great numbers. Hallucinatory, ethereal music in no recognizable style seems to buzz within one's teeth as they draw near to the apparition. u/MaxSizeIs
- A strangely dressed man sitting behind a desk while a confusing array of boxers and esoteric instruments sit before him. He talks in an unknown language, fiddles with one of the instruments, placing a black disc upon a sort of spinning table, and suddenly from no discernable location, alien music can be heard. u/MaxSizeIs
- A hard sort of road but made of a sort of greyish black stone that seems poured like a river, it is very wide, and seems to go in both directions forever. Several lines of strange metal boxes, somewhat like carriages, go in both directions, countless in number, rolling slowly, occasionally stopping then starting again in waves, making no noise, and with no-one inside. u/MaxSizeIs
- A vast canyon, with seemingly infinitely tall towers made of glass on both sides. Every floor of the tower seems to be comfortably furnished in (admittedly alien design), but also appears to have at least one terrified person silently banging on the glass, apparently begging to be let out. Occasionally it rains bodies, they fall from great height from above, then through the ground as if it isn't there, and keep going. u/MaxSizeIs
- A person in a strange sort of greyish-white diving suit with a large, bulky looking backpack contraption on their back, wielding a striped flag, and bouncing around as if they were almost floating. u/MaxSizeIs
- A giant airship zeppelin, coming in to dock at a tall tower. A large crew of people on the ground pull on lines connected to the ship, pulling it in to dock. u/MaxSizeIs
- A large beast-man with horns and cloven feet, wearing a long coat and a strange set of mirrored lenses upon their face, scowls, crosses their arms and pantomimes, seeming to deny you entry. u/MaxSizeIs
- A labyrinthine maze with walls higher than a person, extends to the horizon. u/MaxSizeIs
- A friendly red dog, the size of a large house, with fangs the size of a grown person, and a mouth that could swallow you in one go. It wants to play. u/MaxSizeIs
- A school of ornamental goldfish, each the size of a blue-whale, just swimming as if the air were water. u/MaxSizeIs
- a ruined and partially collapsed castle, structured using large brass pipes; once a center of learning and discovery for steam powered technology u/nexorati
- A caveman sizes up a lightning-struck, burning log, pokes it, and runs away howling in pain. u/RealRamessesII
- A little girl points toward the entrance of a dark forest, as the unsuspecting farmers walk hesitantly within. Smiling deviously, the girl stays a distance back. Suddenly, large red, illuminated eyes appear from the forest darkness, causing the farmers to scream in terror. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A priest, a nobleman, and a guard pass by an old beggar on the street without offering help, but a mixed adventuring party of a tiefling, halfling, dragonborn, and humans stop to give the beggar assistance. In gratitude, the beggar hugs one of them. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- An exhausted alchemist conducts a complicated experiment with various colored liquids, beakers, and pipes. Upon the completion of the experiment, the gnome jumps with joy, holding the main vial as if it were a new precious child, as the color of the vial has shifted to a solid red, welcoming the new discovery. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A young king, resplendent in his finest garments, strode confidently with his entourage of attendants into the city gates. The inhabitants of the city, who lined the streets, remained expressionless and unmoved, their supposed welcome a mere pretense. As they marched on, the imposing silhouette of the castle loomed into view, its grey stone walls shrouded in the morning mist. The king's heart raced with anticipation as he imagined the throne room within, and the destiny that awaited him. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A river of liquid copper, gold, or quicksilver. u/MaxSizeIs
- A giant eye, peering into reality from a crack in the sky. u/MaxSizeIs
- A carousel, moving, but with no passengers or people around. u/MaxSizeIs
- An abandoned ice-cream truck, moldering away in a primeval forest, music still playing. u/MaxSizeIs
- A wall of screens taller than a person and a mile long, each playing a different episode of the same sitcom, out of order and with no context. Occasionally the screens talk to each other, as if they know the other episodes are there, or that someone may be watching them, then the episode ends and the next one starts. The same exact episode is never played more than once. u/MaxSizeIs
- Hidden among all these Echoes is an actual Ghost. u/CptnR4p3
- The ground shakes as a long forgotten behemoth creature walks by only to fade from existance. u/FirstChAoS
- You enter a lush valley, you see the smiling face of a massive elemental being on a nearby hillside. The face vanishes and the vegetation turns sickly in its absense. u/FirstChAoS
- A blue humanoid with yellow eyes and no mouth tinkers with a device on a table. He turns towards you, looks surprised, then motions for you to leave as he fades from existance. u/FirstChAoS
- The temperature turns cold and the world becomes encased in ice. Fur covered dwarves huddle in the glacial caves while a castle of ice rises in the distance. u/FirstChAoS
- Warriors riding giant insects rush by you to attack a skeletal titan. The titan is controlled by a demon impaled on its ribs. u/FirstChAoS
- A young child trips over a stone and cuts her leg. She transforms into a terrifying monster and destroys the stone. u/starsailor11
- The ruins of an old town peaking out of a large lake. By looking deeper the players find what was once a town that had been here, but became submerged by water as a result of storms. There are no skeletons, but the buildings have become familiar with the seaweed and underwater life of the lake. u/hopeful_badger06
- A smiling man with dark skin and long, black hair stands at the helm of a deep green pirate ship. He opens his eyes. All 7 of them. u/Magical_Breadicorn
- A small village of thatched roofs burns in the twilight. A hag stands cackling in the distance. u/Magical_Breadicorn
- An ominous horseman in a crimson cape and hood, standing silently on the top of a hill. His eyes are blank and he doesn't have lips, showing all of his front teeth. He seems to look fait away in the horizon. u/Sans-Mot
- For centuries, a fierce battle has been raging in the skies above a city. On one side is a powerful angelic figure, a divine embodiment of justice, righteousness and goodness. On the other side is its demonic counterpart, a force of malevolence and wickedness. The fate of the city hangs in the balance, as its citizens await the outcome of this epic struggle between good and evil. If the angelic figure prevails, the city will be blessed with peace, joy and contentment, while a victory for the demonic figure will plunge the city into darkness, despair and chaos. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- Two young lovers in a tight embrace, lounging together as they watched the beautiful sunrise that stretched out over the towering view in front of them. Despite the uncertainty of their future and the restrictions their parents and society had imposed on them, they committed to do everything in their power to make their relationship work. They shared a moment of peace, admiring the beauty of the sunrise and dreaming of the possibilities that lay ahead of them. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The warrior kneels beside his friend, who is gravely injured from the battle that is still raging around them. He takes his hand, feeling the warmth and life slowly fading away. Knowing this will be their final moment together, he promises to take care of his family, vowing to make sure they are provided for in the future. The dying warrior looks up at him with a grateful and familiar smile, and with one last breath, his soul departs. The kneeling warrior grasps his friend's hand tightly, holding back tears as he silently bids farewell. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The authoritative knight galloped through the street on his trusted steed, seemingly without a care for the citizens around him. A small young boy stood in his path, seemingly about to be run over when a heroic young girl jumped in front of him and managed to stop the knight in his tracks. The knight, completely oblivious of the danger he had almost caused, continued on his path, leaving the young boy with a sense of shock and awe. The young boy quickly recovered, and with a humble sense of gratitude, thanked the girl for saving him. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A scrawny stray cat cautiously trots up to a homeless woman, who was leaning against a wall, fast asleep. The woman stirred and opened her eyes, only to find the tiny cat rubbing against her leg. Her face lit up with a warm smile and she reached into her bag to pull out a bowl of water and a few scraps of food. The cat eagerly lapped up the cool water and devoured the food, purring appreciatively as it nestled in the woman's outstretched arms. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A large library is the backdrop for an unlikely duo - a half-orc barbarian and an elf wizard. The wizard is patiently instructing the half-orc in the basics of reading and writing, starting with the alphabet. Despite his gruff demeanor, the half-orc is evidently making progress and has already managed to learn a few letters. With a bit more time and effort, it's possible the half-orc could master the entire alphabet. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A regal demon prince lounged around a luxurious dinner table in a dimly lit hall, attended by a troupe of beguiling succubi, serving his every need. Standing awkwardly and aloof in front of the table, a tiefling warlock appeared. The demon prince smiled with a mischievous glint in his eye, and the two began a conversation concerning their previous contract. The demon prince insisted that he would aid the tiefling in finding her long-lost daughter, but in exchange, she must accept the corruption of pleasure and servitude. With great hesitation and a heavy heart, the tiefling reluctantly agreed. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The giant teenager was throwing a temper tantrum, demanding to her father that she be allowed to go out and smash any humanoids she could find in the vicinity. Her hulking father seemed to share her enthusiasm, but urged her to be mindful of not angering too many people at once. He wanted her to be strategic in her actions, so as not to draw too much attention or cause too much chaos. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The evil lich cackled maniacally in their shadowy crypt, admiring the intricate schematics of their sinister plot to conquer the world and bend its subjugated inhabitants to their will. Suddenly, one of the lich's skeletal servants happened to stumble into the table, causing several of the papers to scatter around the room. This provoked a violent outburst from the lich, who cast a necrotic spell to immediately annihilate the unfortunate minion. After regaining his composure, the lich retreated to his private chambers, where he encountered his undead kitten. Softening his expression, the lich began to pet the feline vigorously, seeking comfort in the small creature's presence. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The magical professor asked the class a question about the importance of proper speaking and gesturing to successfully cast a spell. One student raised their hand, and when allowed to answer, they replied, "You really need to address that wart, professor." This resulted in the class bursting into laughter, and the professor struggled to maintain composure as he demanded the student answer his question instead of distracting the class. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- An ancient city, long forgotten and submerged beneath the depths of the ocean, emerged from the depths. The walls of the buildings were still covered in a variety of sea life. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The adventurers face a daunting task, standing before a portal to the demonic plane, surrounded by countless fallen demons. With a tremendous effort, one of the brave adventurers casts a powerful spell to banish the portal. In a climatic moment, the portal shatters, and the entire group watches in awe as the spell caster collapses to the ground in exhaustion. The rest of the party rallies around them in solidarity and support. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- Several brilliant stars illuminated the landscape, gradually moving closer to one another. Suddenly, they collided and created a mesmerizing display of colors, with hues of blue, green, yellow, and red fanning out in all directions. A devastating force surged through the countryside, serenading the land with a beautiful yet destructive sight. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A heavy rainstorm swept in over the hilly pasture land, the moist wind whipping through the tall grass and bending it to its will. Streaks of lightning illuminated the dark, rain-filled sky, casting a dramatic backdrop to the scene. A small cluster of cows had huddled together under the shelter of a few trees, seeking safety and respite from the raging storm. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The warforged creature stands in the middle of a vast junkyard, its single arm and damaged leg starkly contrasting with the piles of gleaming metal and wooden pieces that surround it. Its glowing eyes search the mounds, hastily selecting a few choice pieces to inspect and fit onto its body. With its single arm, it delicately lifts a metal appendage and attaches it to the place where its missing limb should be. It then picks up a wooden leg and affixes it to its damaged one, replacing it with a functioning limb. After a few moments, the warforged tests out its new arm and leg, its body adapting to its newfound mobility. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- A poor mother, surrounded by her children, sits together on the floor of a drab and sparsely furnished hut. As her children huddle around her, she gently guides them in a simple prayer for provision, asking for divine aid in these difficult times. As if in answer to their pleas, a knock suddenly sounds on the door. Upon opening it, the family finds a box filled with food, clothes, and other essential items donated by an anonymous figure with a knowing smile. Unbeknownst to the family, the mysterious individual is an agent of their deity, answering the prayer with a tangible act of kindness. u/NecessaryCornflake7
- The old half-elf, dressed in luxurious noble robes and carrying an ornate ice staff, finished an important meeting with several rulers. After the meeting concluded, he stepped through a magical portal into a more private area. As soon as he emerged from the portal, the half-elf transformed into a majestic white dragon. With a powerful beat of its wings, it soared into the sky, flying off on a determined mission. u/NecessaryCornflake7
2023.03.22 15:06 CrunchWrapDreamz Alternatives to Provia for front doors?
Hey all-
I recently replaced my mom’s front door with a Provia door. Her old door was a fairly dramatic real oak double door with a transom so it was important to reproduce that ‘look’. I paid top dollar and was happy with the door although the installer was a nightmare to deal with.
My own house also needs a door, and I’m looking for something that has a wood-like finish. The quote for a Provia door with fairly standard options was just under $10k! That’s a lot of cheese.
Has anybody had success with a door brand that looks ‘high end’ with paying an arm and a leg?
submitted by CrunchWrapDreamz to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]
I recently replaced my mom’s front door with a Provia door. Her old door was a fairly dramatic real oak double door with a transom so it was important to reproduce that ‘look’. I paid top dollar and was happy with the door although the installer was a nightmare to deal with.
My own house also needs a door, and I’m looking for something that has a wood-like finish. The quote for a Provia door with fairly standard options was just under $10k! That’s a lot of cheese.
Has anybody had success with a door brand that looks ‘high end’ with paying an arm and a leg?
2023.03.22 14:46 SteveH2020 Use a relay with 1 negative leg vs one with 2?
 | Could I replace the relay used in this circuit with a one that uses just 1 Com leg instead of a one that uses 2 legs ? submitted by SteveH2020 to AskElectronics [link] [comments] There is continuity between the 2 point on the board for each relay as well Image of relay added Reason being the original relay is obsolete Thanks |
2023.03.22 14:42 crockdaddyloki What’s needed to change the clutch and flywheel on a 2011 Jetta Base Manual
The clutch is going on my parents 2011 Jetta and trying to do some leg work before ordering parts and getting into it! I see several clutch kits and flywheels available. One thing I’m uncertain of is if I can just replace the release bearing or need to replace the slave cylinder as part of the bearing - the clutch kits generally just come with the bearing. Additionally, any advice on dropping the transmission and the overall process would be greatly appreciated!
submitted by crockdaddyloki to jetta [link] [comments]
2023.03.22 14:37 TBirdOP Keep having network errors?....
 | Writing super straightforward prompts (place holders) and just as it's about to finish I get the error: submitted by TBirdOP to ChatGPTCoding [link] [comments] network error there was an error generating a response How do I fix this...? Going to get plus but if this is something that will happen either way I cant. The prompt: https://preview.redd.it/xli6etu6napa1.png?width=794&format=png&auto=webp&s=e42b0fa75b05c1281230b6889137341f85fec498 |
2023.03.22 14:32 immutable_potato Crit based EA Champ - Review my Build Please (20m pinnacle damage)
https://pobb.in/QmGYB7rYsR-p
Warning, this build may trigger due to mageblood. It's based on my actual SSF character (got lucky with an ancient orb), and I'm really just looking for input / review from the community. I've only been playing since 3.16 and I'm positive I'm missing stuff. I'm looking for general build and crafting advice if you have any!
Effective Hit Pool is 176K w/ Molten Shell (66% uptime), and 63K without.
I don't think I've goosed anything in the config. My frenzies are max on bosses. I always have flasks active, and I've taunted recently (totems taunt but I also taunt when casting frenzy, which I do at least every 4s). I have flat lightning on the bow for EE.
I have to say that I prefer the playstyle over the ignite version. With ignite you are stacking a lot of delays (place totem -> stack for explode -> ignite), and this removes one of them. This feels better in mapping, but you have less chance to gain on kill bonuses from ignites. I'm actually thinking of replacing the ignite spread on my gloves. Maybe AoE increases would improve mapping speed.
submitted by immutable_potato to PathOfExileBuilds [link] [comments]
Warning, this build may trigger due to mageblood. It's based on my actual SSF character (got lucky with an ancient orb), and I'm really just looking for input / review from the community. I've only been playing since 3.16 and I'm positive I'm missing stuff. I'm looking for general build and crafting advice if you have any!
Effective Hit Pool is 176K w/ Molten Shell (66% uptime), and 63K without.
I don't think I've goosed anything in the config. My frenzies are max on bosses. I always have flasks active, and I've taunted recently (totems taunt but I also taunt when casting frenzy, which I do at least every 4s). I have flat lightning on the bow for EE.
Notes:
I was originally ignite based, but noticed that my explode hit was doing significantly more damage than my ignite, so I messed around in PoB until I ended up with this crit version that literally doubled my damage and increased my defences due to going to the right tree instead of the top tree.I have to say that I prefer the playstyle over the ignite version. With ignite you are stacking a lot of delays (place totem -> stack for explode -> ignite), and this removes one of them. This feels better in mapping, but you have less chance to gain on kill bonuses from ignites. I'm actually thinking of replacing the ignite spread on my gloves. Maybe AoE increases would improve mapping speed.
- My rings need work. Not really sure how to craft better though other than just slamming essences until I RNG into something better. Educate me please!
- I'm running Eternal damnation + Loreweave to increase bossing survivability. I'm going to be practicing my pinnacles / ubers on SSF Standard with this character. I may attempt crafting at a +2 amulet in the future.
- My version of PoB (Mac) doesn't support the Wilma's cast speed = attack speed, so I've added a custom line in the config. This is 39% from the increased effect silver flask and 30% from Vaal Haste, for a total of 69% (nice!). If your PoB handles Wilma's cast -> attack speed then just remove that line.
- My jewels suck. I really don't know how to get decent jewels in SSF. It seems like a total RNG fest.
- I use a rain of splinters for mapping, but not bossing.
2023.03.22 14:21 VenoBot Beginner trader: Question about Credit & Debit Spreads, and early assignments.
My question is about credit and debit spreads, but it can also extend to other forms of options trading strategy.
Is it possible for one of the legs to have an early assignment? (Is it possible for both? Can long calls/puts be assigned? Or is that only shorts)
When early assignment happens, do you simply buy another leg to replace the lost one? What do you do exactly?
submitted by VenoBot to Trading [link] [comments]
Is it possible for one of the legs to have an early assignment? (Is it possible for both? Can long calls/puts be assigned? Or is that only shorts)
When early assignment happens, do you simply buy another leg to replace the lost one? What do you do exactly?
2023.03.22 14:15 Betty-Adams [Humans are Weird] - Part 110 - Palindrome - Short, Absurd, Science Fiction Stories
![[Humans are Weird] - Part 110 - Palindrome - Short, Absurd, Science Fiction Stories](https://a.thumbs.redditmedia.com/A83KgCAamcXw18_pj4OKG-3XL8tlUGHhmDyT2MWr9P0.jpg "[Humans are Weird] - Part 110 - Palindrome - Short, Absurd, Science Fiction Stories") | https://i.redd.it/ti3l5oe1japa1.gif submitted by Betty-Adams to redditserials [link] [comments] Humans are Weird – Palindrome-A short, absurd science fiction story.“Want to see something cool?” Human friend Susan asked of the room at large when she came through the inner airlock. There was an amber colored flurry of movement in the central perch tree as the Winged left the exterior perches and sought cover in the inner compartments. Three Undulates eased under the surface of the rest pool without so much as a ripple. Five Trisk sprinted up the ladders to a higher level catwalk, putting them conveniently out of Human Friend Susan’s line of binocular sight. Krs’ktt suddenly found himself regretting his last promotion. If he were still a lowly sub-commander he could have justified joining his subordinates on the higher levels. As it was being the ranking officer in the communal room meant it was his duty to determine if they over-enthusiastic biologist had brought back anything particularly horrific from her rounds. The quarantine protocols should have prevented any such thing being dangerous but this human in particular had proven quite adept at finding creatures, items, and … well the only proper word for them was monstrosities that somehow did not meet the criteria for exclusion. “I would be very interested in seeing this cool thing,” Krs’ktt said aloud as he walked to the edge of his work surface. The human grinned and held up her datapad at about hip height. Krs’ktt felt the tension in the room drop dramatically. She had only brought back documentation. A few tentative sensory appendages poked out of the pool, paired black eyes peered out of the perch tree, and his traitorous kin edged to look down at what Human Friend Susan was showing him. He relaxed even further as he saw not the expected visual image recreation (nothing needed as many organs as the last carcass she had photographed had displayed) but only the standard data entry screen. He loosened his joints in relief and tilted his head to the side curiously. “I am afraid I cannot recognize any pattern in this data set,” he said with an apologetic wave of his primary gripping leg. “Perhaps another biologist might-“ “No! No!” she interrupted with a laugh. Krs’ktt fought back a wave of bristling annoyance. “The metadata!” Human Friend Susan went on. “Look at that data point. I think it’s seventh from the bottom.” “That is a data point,” Krs’ktt said. Human Friend Susan laughed. “It’s a numerical palindrome in the standard Core font!” she said. She looked at him expectantly. “What is a palindrome?” Krs’ktt asked. “Oh,” Human Friend Susan blinked and her head tilted as she thought over her response. “It means the written item reads the same in both linear directions.” Krs’ktt angled his primary eyes at the screen and tapped a knee joint thoughtfully. “I do not see the pattern,” he finally said. Human Friend Susan’s face wrinkled and she turned the screen to look at it. “This one,” she said, touching the beginning of the indicated line. “It is not symmetrical,” Krs’ktt pointed out. “Leave out the punctuation,” Human Friend Susan suggested. “It is still not symmetrical,” Krs’ktt argued. “Not that I can see. It has an odd number of digits.” “Well just cut the central naught in half!” Human Friend Susan pressed. The Undulates where all heaved out of the water now, waving their appendages attentively at the interaction. The Winged had taken to the air and were circling closer. Krs’ktt stretched out a bit and waved the Winged commander down. “What do you thing Fifteenth Click?” he asked politely. The amber Winged hovered in front of the screen a moment. “I do not see this as symmetrical even with those specifications,” he said. “The tails on the threes alone would-“ “But aside from the little stuff!” Human Friend Susan interrupted. Fifteenth Click and Krs’ktt glanced at each other curiously. “We do not see the pattern Human Friend Susan,” Krs’ktt finally said with as much firmness as he could muster. “Well it’s there,” Human Friend Susan said cheerfully. “I thought it was cool. Well ciao .” She dropped the datapad in her hip pouch and strolled towards the kitchens. “Cool,” Liftsgently spoke from the pool. “She uses the same designation for a single datapoint with an unusual pattern in the metadata as she does for a container full of fungal reanimated insect corpses.” Krs’ktt stretched out his legs and returned to his work space as the common room fell into the usual noisy discussion that followed their human’s return. |
2023.03.22 13:53 Horror_writer_1717 I used to be a doctor in an insane asylum. My patient destroyed my world.
This story needs to be told. Those who have suffered must understand why. It’s not as simple as some have made it to be, which is why it needs to come from the person most responsible… me.
It began when I was least expecting it. But then don’t things always seem to happen that way?
***
“I’m tellin' ya, doc, people just don’t understand,” Frederick said while rocking back and forth in the chair.
“What exactly don’t they understand?” I said, trying to look more relaxed than I felt.
“There’s just something that takes over. You can’t stop it.”
“Impulse control?”
“What’s that mean?” Frederick said, struggling against his straight jacket, trying to get comfortable.
“It means that when you want to do something, you try your hardest not to. It means you try to control or suppress the urge to do things you know are bad.”
Frederick’s mouth lolled open. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Why would I want to do that?”
I suppressed the urge to sigh.
“Because that’s what people do,” I said. “They think about doing bad things, but then they control themselves and don’t do them because those things are wrong and could hurt other people.”
“Hurting people is wrong?” he said.
“Yes, Frederick, hurting people is wrong.”
He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away a fly that was annoying him.
“Why?”
“Why is hurting people wrong?”
“No, why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re saying I’m bad,” he said trying to rise from his chair. “You’re saying I didn’t need to hurt those people. That I’m a bad person.”
I got up from my chair and started backing toward the heavy metal door.
“I’m not bad!” he yelled at me. “You’re bad!”
I knocked on the door and the orderly opened it as Frederick got to his feet.
I slipped through the door as it slammed shut from the impact of his body slamming into it.
“Bad, bad, bad,” he screamed.
“Badbadbadbadbadbadbadbad!”
Spit flew from his mouth landing on the small observation window with metal grates embedded in it.
“You ok, doc,” the orderly said, startling me.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
I turned and walked down the white hallway, hoping the orderly wouldn’t notice the quickness in my step. I ignored the sound of Frederick beating on the door. I ignored all the sounds I heard. I just wanted to get away.
It was a long walk to my office, through many security gates. At each one, the nurse buzzed me through and gave me an acknowledging look that used to be a smile.
I suppose this place gets to everyone eventually.
I finally reached my office, closed and locked the door behind me, and collapsed into my chair. I breathed out a sigh of relief at reaching relative safety. I turned and looked out my window to the beautiful flowers blooming on the trees in the courtyard. I looked up at the tree stretching toward the sky.
I remember when they planted those.
I turned back to my center, my means of solace, the only thing that mattered in this cruel, unfair world. I picked up the picture of my lovely wife and smiled. She was the one who kept me sane all these years. She kept me seeing the best in people. Or at least trying. Sometimes there was no good to see—especially in my patients.
It takes a special kind of doctor to care for the mental needs of those who have done heinous things that are so bad they don’t even bother sending them to prison. They send them to me.
I’m like the dumpster for the dregs of society. Just drop them in the asylum and forget about them.
I kissed my wife and set her back on the bare desk, then turned on my computer and added notes from today’s session. There was never a recommendation for release. Once patients came here the only way they left was in a body bag. There was no curing them, only trying to make them docile until they left.
Oh, there were experiments. That was a large part of how we were funded. Companies would pay for certain tests to be done. Some might call it torture, but we called it research.
I finished typing my notes and leaned back in my seat. The diplomas and degrees stared down from their perches on the bare walls, mocking me. Demanding why I hadn’t gotten a better job.
As usual, I didn’t have an answer.
My office suddenly felt stuffy. I closed down my computer and left. Driving down the packed freeway, all I could think about was collapsing on the couch beside my lovely Elizabeth. Not telling her about my day until she dragged it out of me, then listening to her encourage me to help those who have been left in my care, because I’m the only hope they have.
Traffic was bumper to bumper and not helping my overall opinion of humanity much. Especially when a car that was swerving from lane to lane, nearly sideswiped me. It kept going on in front of me, nearly hitting several other cars.
The driver and passenger seemed to be having a disagreement about how to drive the car and it looked like it was about to come to blows.
Fortunately, they were soon out of sight, and someone else’s problem.
For the next few miles, I kept watching the side of the road waiting to see the offending car sitting in a ditch. However, they surprised me. They must’ve turned off to go terrorize some neighborhood streets with their reckless driving.
I hummed to myself, not wanting to have whatever dreck was on the radio forced on me.
When I was nearly to my exit, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the number as work. I contemplated answering it for a moment, then thought better of it. There had never been a time when work called with good news. And I was in no mood for bad news.
I hummed a little louder, trying to drown out the sound of the ring before it finally stopped.
The closer I got to home the less I thought about work and the more I thought about Elizabeth. Until I turned off at my exit, I had nearly forgotten work altogether. Maybe I would take tomorrow off and go do something with my wife. We hadn’t been out for a while. The weather had been lovely and I know she would adore a walk down by the lake.
My thoughts were interrupted when I turned down our driveway and saw a car in front of the house. It wasn’t quite in the driveway, it was sitting at an angle halfway in the front yard.
I parked my car and slowly got out. Something struck me about this car, but I hadn’t figured out what. I approached the driver’s side to have words with the person still sitting at the wheel.
“Excuse me,” I said staying a few steps back from the driver’s door.
He didn’t answer me.
“Excuse me,” I said a little louder.
Still no answer.
I tapped on the window and he ignored me.
I opened the door.
“Okay, look… “ I said.
But it was I who would do the looking. The man fell out of the car, thudding on the grass. The inside of the car was covered in blood. I looked down and the man’s throat had been cut.
“Oh my God!” I said jumping back.
I watched to see if the man was breathing, but the way his neck was bent at an unnatural angle against my yard told me everything I needed to know.
I glanced through the car but didn’t see the passenger.
It was then my eyes drifted to my front door.
It was open.
I stepped through the shrubs and up onto the porch, walking in a daze. The surrealness of the moment had yet to sink in. I was going inside to check on my wife and make sure everything was ok.
It didn’t strike me as anything more than that.
‘Oh, she just left the door open, that’s all.’
My mind kept trying to tell me that. I wanted desperately to believe it. Even though she had never been that careless during the entire time we’d been married. I had pushed aside all reason and common sense in favor of pure denial.
Everything was going to be ok. With Elizabeth, everything was always ok. She could literally light up a room with her positivity. She was the best person I ever knew. I have no idea how I got so lucky as to know her, let alone be her husband.
I floated in through my front door on my cloud of denial and looked for my wife.
It didn’t take me long to find her.
There was one wall of the living room she was constantly redecorating. She always said it looked bare and empty no matter what she did with it.
She was hanging from that wall, naked, her beautiful body desecrated by slices and rips. Her throat had been slit and blood still poured from it.
I ran to her.
Tried to take her down.
Screamed her name.
And then it was my turn to scream.
I looked down and saw a knife blade sticking out from my abdomen. It was part of the cutlery set I had gotten for Elizabeth three Christmases ago.
I screamed as I slowly turned to face my attacker.
“What’s up, doc?” Frederick said wearing a maniacal grin.
The shock had punched a hole in my reasoning. I saw him standing there, but I couldn’t accept it any more than I could accept my beautiful wife strung up like a macabre painting hanging on our living room wall.
My eyes tried to focus on his face. To make me recognize him as a threat.
“How’s that impulse control workin’ for ya, doc?”
He ripped the knife out of my back.
The pain, along with his arrogance woke me from my shock-induced stupor.
“Now do you understand?” he said, as he shoved the knife into my belly.
I did understand. I understood at that moment that I was already as dead as my wife. I knew that this piece of human garbage had taken something beautiful from this world. I knew I had to do something about it before there was nothing I could do. Before my body succumbed to injuries and I was unable.
I grabbed him by the throat. He tried to laugh, but my grip was fueled by desperation.
He tried to free himself but couldn’t. He began stabbing me over and over. I refused to release him. I carried him by his neck over to the kitchen counter and began bashing his head off the marble.
I was rewarded with spots of his blood. I knew at least I had made him bleed and that made me smile. His eyes grew wide as my grin grew maniacal. I smashed him repeatedly, crushing him against the sink, breaking the faucet, and causing water to spray into the air.
His eyelids fluttered as he lost his grip on the knife.
He was nearly gone. I would take him with me and that would be my parting gift to the world, removing something so evil.
Suddenly, my body wouldn’t obey commands. My grip loosened. I tried to tighten it, but I had lost all control. I looked down and I was standing in a pool of my own blood.
His eyes fluttered open and he coughed.
‘Nonononononono!’ I thought. ‘He can’t live. He can’t win. I had him.’
He stood as I sank to the floor.
“Looks like maybe you do understand, doc,” he said from what seemed like miles away. “Too bad you won’t be around to discuss it. We could have a session and evaluate how it makes you feel.”
His foot came down on my spine. I felt a crack. He started kicking me in the side repeatedly. Splashing water and blood on me as I felt my ribs crack.
I fought with everything I had.
My body didn’t even twitch.
‘Nooooo!,’ I screamed. ‘It can’t end like this.’
I heard a sizzling sound and then there was darkness.
***
I could feel movement.
Wasn’t I dead?
Was this what happened after?
It was still dark.
‘Hello?’ I tried to say.
Nothing. Just the sensation of movement.
Am I in a body bag? Am I on my way to the morgue or the grave? Please don’t let me be buried alive.
But I’m not alive, am I?
I don’t feel any pain. That’s a good thing, but not a good sign. The last thing I remember was lots of pain.
Suddenly there’s light and my movement stops.
I look up from the floor of a house I don’t recognize.
‘Where the hell am I?’
I’m on the floor next to a wall, looking up at an electrical outlet. Nothing around me seems familiar. I try to stand but it feels weird. It isn’t difficult, and there’s still no pain, it just carries an odd sensation with it. Like my body is just relearning things. Just like when I was a toddler. I teeter back and forth as I rise, but eventually, I’m upright.
My first few steps are tentative, but after that, I gain confidence with each stride.
Aside from the strange surroundings, there’s a sensation, like ants crawling all over me.
I pass a bathroom and glance inside. The reflection in the mirror draws me back. I slowly approach it, seeing something unique and terrifying.
It looks like someone drew an outline of a human form using a lightning bolt. The electricity shimmers and crackles as it races around the empty form of the being.
I wonder if it will hurt me.
Not sure if I want to test the limits of my newfound lack of pain, I hesitantly reach for this creature. It reaches for me at the same time. I’m mesmerized by this mutual curiosity.
My hand is about to touch the electric pulse shaped like its hand. I tremble with anticipation and fear as we touch.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel anything except a hard surface.
I move my hand back and forth. The creature does the same. I make quicker movements, and so does it.
Finally, out of frustration, I reach back and strike at the creature.
My hand strikes the hard surface and it splinters. There are now multiple creatures staring back at me.
I step back and come to the horrible realization.
I am the creature.
***
One month later…
“And police have been unable to find any credible leads in the string of brutal killings that began shortly after the patient escaped from the mental hospital last month,” the handsome anchorman stated from behind his desk. “They are asking people to call in if they know the whereabouts of Frederick Winston, now known as, ‘The Mangler’.”
“In other news, the Larsan Electric Company has issued a statement that the recent power surges are no cause for alarm. These surges seem to be random in people's homes and certain businesses. An LEC spokesman stated that there appears to be no pattern to the surges and that so far no one has reported them causing any harm. LEC is tracking down the problem and should have it under control soon.”
The anchorman shifted in his seat and turned to another camera.
“And on a lighter note, with Halloween months away, it seems that reports of ghosts are on the rise,” he said, wearing a half grin. “Several area residents have reported what they call a ghostlike figure, outlined in light, visiting them. Reports vary as to the duration and location of the visits, but they do seem to have a few things in common. The visits are usually short. In fact, most people say that if they blink the figure is gone. No one has reported the ghost doing any harm. And it seems like anyone within close proximity feels a tingling sensation and their hair standing on end.”
“Maybe I should be visited instead of my next hairdresser’s appointment,” the attractive woman anchor said with a laugh.
“Schedule me a visit too,” the male anchor said smiling. “And that’s our news for the evening, good night.”
Jimmy switched the channel.
“Gimme a break,” he said to the TV. “Ghosts? Who’s playing what? This’s some marketing scheme to sell Halloween crap. Like that stunt they pulled a few years back with the clowns hanging around the schools to promote that stupid movie.”
He switched off the TV and rolled over in his bed.
It wasn’t long before his breathing slowed. But before sleep could take him, he noticed a glow in the hallway. He didn’t remember leaving any lights on when he came to bed. Living alone had its advantages. If he heard someone in his apartment, he knew they weren’t supposed to be there. He slowly reached over to the bedstand and pulled out his Glock 9mm handgun, then held it close and listened.
He watched as the glow moved. It seemed like someone was looking around. But for what? He didn’t really have anything aside from his TV, phone, and video games. If anyone wanted those, they would be in a world of hurt. He had been lucky to get this apartment. If he was honest with himself, it cost more than he could afford, but when he had the chance he took it. It was too bad the opening came because the person who lived there before him was one of The Mangler’s victims. That’s probably why he was able to rent the place so quickly and get the price down to where he could almost afford it.
Maybe the glow was one of the street people who were stupid enough to see if there was an empty apartment to claim. That wasn’t gonna fly either. Jimmy had jumped on this apartment to get away from the dingy rat hole he used live in on the other side of town. And there was no way he’d let some bum come in here and take what was his.
The glow crept closer. He could feel the hairs on his arms raise. There was a sound too. It wasn’t loud, almost felt more than heard. A soft crackle, like electricity when it sparked.
The sensory input was almost too much for Jimmy to take. He pointed the gun in the direction of the glow and saw the barrel was shaking. His resolve, that he could deal with anyone as long as he had his gun, was beginning to fade.
The glow became so bright that it finally took form.
Jimmy’s eyes widened. It was the form of a person, just like the news had said.
It seemed to look around the room, then settle its gaze on the bed. Jimmy began to sweat as it approached and stared into his eyes.
It was the oddest thing, staring into what should be eyes, but nothing was there. The flashes of mini lightning bolts formed shapes that looked almost human, but it was just an outline, there was nothing inside what should be the body.
He shoved the shaking gun out from under the blanket and pointed it at the glowing figure.
The figure noted the presence of the gun, then continued to advance.
“S… stop,” Jimmy said. “I’m w… warning you.”
The figure ignored the warning.
Jimmy squeezed the trigger, setting off a deafening shot that went right through the face of the figure.
It acted as though nothing had happened, continuing to advance. The ringing in Jimmy’s ears made all sound seem muffled.
The figure stopped two inches from Jimmy’s face.
“Mangler… “ it said, sounding less like a voice and more like a transmission over an old staticky radio.
“I… I’m not the Mangler,” he said. “The person who used to live here was killed by him.”
It seemed to ponder this for a moment.
“Find Mangler… “ it said.
“I d… don’t know where to find him.”
It moved an inch closer. As the flashes of electricity arced, licked hungrily at Jimmy’s face.
“Find… him… “
“Ok, ok, I’ll find him,” Jimmy said, feeling the heat from the electricity.
The figure seemed to consider that for a moment then backed away. It moved toward the bedroom wall. Then, like someone had turned on a vacuum, it was sucked into an electrical outlet and disappeared.
Jimmy laid back in bed, breathing hard. His eyes darted left and right all around the room. But the only evidence of the figure that remained was the bullet hole in his bedroom wall.
***
The trips through the electrical conduits had become easier. There were still times when I came out someplace I didn’t intend to, but I was usually able to recover quickly and get to where I wanted to go.
But where did I want to go? At first, I wandered around, lost in this new form I found myself trapped inside. It was only after I had overheard a news report about the serial killer they called The Mangler that I gained my purpose.
Of course, Frederick was going to keep killing. Of course, they weren’t going to be able to catch him. He’d been inside away from his victims before and he didn’t like it. Not being able to torture and kill innocents was like a normal person not being able to breathe. Not that I know much about normal or breathing anymore.
I suppose on some level I should thank him. I thought about it for a long time and the only thing that makes any kind of sense is when we were fighting, somehow the water and blood I was laying in got splashed into the electrical socket. Instead of killing me, it bonded with me, making me able to become the electrical current. To ride it like a wave to wherever I wanted.
I became faster than any person ever was. And yet, I wasn’t a person anymore. I have no idea how I retained my consciousness, let alone my memory. But somehow…
I justify it by the old adage, ‘I think therefore I am.’
My life has become an endless hunt for the person who destroyed me, the person I must destroy. I don’t even know what I’ll do when I find him. But I will find him. I will stop him. This time, I won’t fail. I’ll end him like I should’ve before.
I owe it to the people he’s tortured and killed since my failure. Most of all, I owe it to my wife. I know she wouldn’t approve of my bloodlust. She would say there must be some other option. But if she would be able to see her dead body hanging naked from our living room wall, I think she just might change her mind.
My thoughts are interrupted as I arrive at my next destination, another victim’s house. I’m not sure what I’ll find that the police haven’t, but I have to try. Maybe I can pick up his scent somehow. A plan almost assuredly doomed to failure since I lost all sense of smell in the transformation.
I’m surprised though that I can still see and hear. I suppose waves of light and sound somehow intersect with my electrical body and it senses them. I don’t question it. I’ve learned to just go with it.
On the plus side, I don’t have to worry about eating, drinking, or using the bathroom. I guess there’s an upside to everything. Elizabeth would be so proud of me.
I arrive at the room where the victim was murdered. Looking around there’s still blood everywhere, along with evidence markers where they took pictures.
The sheer amount of blood tells me he took his time. He desecrated this girl in her own room. Her parents must’ve been out because there’s no way they didn’t hear the struggle. There were books on the floor, a chair overturned, and blood everywhere. The room was a disaster. It looked like she fought him. I wish she would’ve succeeded where I had failed.
But then, I wish I hadn’t failed, and this girl was still alive.
There’s nothing I can do now except find him and end him.
Finding him was proving more difficult than I thought. I had unlimited access to anywhere with electricity, but I couldn’t use a computer or a GPS. I was limited to transportation only through electricity. Granted that still made me the fastest being alive. I say being because I don’t think I qualify as human anymore. But I was limited to traveling to a place and then trying to find out where I was and if he was there.
If he knew I was searching for him all he would have to do is live the rest of his days in a cabin in the woods with no electricity. I’d never be able to reach him.
I believe two things worked in my favor with that theory.
First, I don’t think he’s that smart, and second, I don’t think he knows I’m looking for him. I believe that surviving our fight only further empowered him to kill. When someone feels invincible, they’re bound to make a mistake.
An officer walked into the room and I ducked back into an outlet. I was able to hang on where I was and watch from inside the outlet without being transported somewhere else.
The officer looked startled and stared at the empty air that I had just vacated. She looked like she was unsure if she trusted what her eyes had seen in the instant before I vanished.
She slowly stepped over to the corner and bent down to peer into the outlet. For a moment I wondered if she could see me, and what exactly she would see. But then her radio squawked calling her to another scene. When I heard the voice on the radio say the address and that they might have the killer cornered, I didn’t waste any time.
It was maybe fifteen seconds until I was across town at the address I’d heard. There was a lot of screaming and crying going on. I came out of the outlet and saw blood on the floor beside a body that wasn’t moving.
There was a girl being beaten by a man with his back to me. He turned to take another swing and I knew my search was over.
“My psychiatrist used to tell me I needed to work on my impulse control,” he said calmly as he slapped her. “I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been here ten whole minutes and you’re still alive.”
I shot across the room and knocked him to the floor. He jumped back up and looked around for what had hit him.
“What the hell?”
I saw the fear in his eyes when he saw me. I know Elizabeth would’ve been ashamed, of me, but I was enjoying his anxiety. After all he had done to me and so many others, I drank it in like an elixir.
He started edging toward the door. I was there in a heartbeat. His eyes darted back and forth between where I used to be and where I now stood. The panic in his eyes doubled.
I wanted to make him suffer, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake I’d made before and let him escape with his life.
I lashed out with a bolt that used to be my arm. The energy slashed through his shirt and fried a hole in his shoulder.
He screamed in pain and horror as he looked at the smoking hole in his skin. He tried to run but in an instant, I was there in front of him firing another bolt and searing the skin across his waist to his jeans.
His screams of pain and rage were only matched by the feral desperation in his eyes.
Not knowing what do to, he went with the familiar. Attack the innocent. He grabbed the girl who had been crawling away from the scene.
He grabbed her again and held her in front of him like a human shield.
What a waste of skin.
I fired a bolt into a ceiling light beside me which ricocheted and hit him full force in the leg, nearly severing it.
He went down like a ton of bricks, trying to hold on to his hostage, but she was fighting to get away from him. She broke free and he crumpled to the floor.
“What do you want?” he screamed at me.
With everything that is within me, I wanted to tell him who I was, what he had taken from me, and what I was about to take from him.
But I didn’t want to give the satisfaction. I wanted to give him only uncertainty and fear to cling to.
I could feel the seconds ticking away. I knew I had to make the most of this opportunity or he would get away again. And after this, I might never find him.
I unleashed every ounce of energy at him. I couldn’t even see him, he was only a smoking pillar of frying skin.
Just then, the police burst through the door.
“FREE… “ the first officer started then the shock of what he was seeing stole the rest of the word from his mouth.
He stood there, mouth agape when the female officer stepped in behind him. She looked at me and her wide eyes narrowed as she put two and two together and recognized me from the last crime scene.
I had no reason to fear. I didn’t know if I could even be harmed in my current state. But when you see that blue uniform burst through a door with a gun aimed at you, all rational thought takes a vacation.
I dove for the outlet and was gone. I didn’t even care where I was going. I knew I had done what I wanted to. The monster was destroyed.
Something felt different. Was it pride at finishing my crusade? Was it shame knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t have wanted me to do it?
I don’t know but there was something else. It was like there was added weight to my existence. I guess you can have a conscious in whatever you’d call this existence.
I appeared in the place that made the most sense, ironically. It was my old home. The one where everything I loved died, including me. It was where I took on this unintended new existence.
Is that why I felt this extra weight? Was it some cathartic aftereffect of my search for revenge that was finally over?
I looked around the charred debris of what used to be my home. In my mind's eye, I didn’t see the burned-out shell of what was left. I saw it as it was when we first moved in. When Elizabeth and I started decorating. When the interior was finally finished and I turned to her and said, “For now.” Knowing she would decide to change everything at some time in the future when she was bored, just like all women seem to do.
I remember getting a paintbrush across the mouth for that comment. I smiled remembering kissing her with my freshly painted mouth and ending up in the bedroom.
As I turned toward where I’d entered the house, my smile quickly faded. For some reason, I was still connected to the outlet. That had never happened before.
Another curiosity arose when I noticed the color of my electrical body was now tinged purple. It had always been blue before.
The tail of what had yet to come out of the outlet was red. As I pulled and it came the rest of the way out, it merged with me and turned purple.
“What the hell?” I heard someone say.
I whipped around but no one was there.
“Where am I?” the voice said.
“Who are you?” I said to the air.
There was a long silence.
“Doc?” the voice said.
As far as I knew it wasn’t possible for my spine to turn to ice, since I no longer had a spine, but the feeling seemed the same.
“Frederick?” I said.
“What happened?” he said. “This crazy electric thing attacked me and now… wait a minute. How am I talking to you? You died months ago.”
My shock gave way to utter despair. My enemy was now part of me.
submitted by Horror_writer_1717 to Horror_Writer_1717 [link] [comments]
It began when I was least expecting it. But then don’t things always seem to happen that way?
***
“I’m tellin' ya, doc, people just don’t understand,” Frederick said while rocking back and forth in the chair.
“What exactly don’t they understand?” I said, trying to look more relaxed than I felt.
“There’s just something that takes over. You can’t stop it.”
“Impulse control?”
“What’s that mean?” Frederick said, struggling against his straight jacket, trying to get comfortable.
“It means that when you want to do something, you try your hardest not to. It means you try to control or suppress the urge to do things you know are bad.”
Frederick’s mouth lolled open. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Why would I want to do that?”
I suppressed the urge to sigh.
“Because that’s what people do,” I said. “They think about doing bad things, but then they control themselves and don’t do them because those things are wrong and could hurt other people.”
“Hurting people is wrong?” he said.
“Yes, Frederick, hurting people is wrong.”
He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away a fly that was annoying him.
“Why?”
“Why is hurting people wrong?”
“No, why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re saying I’m bad,” he said trying to rise from his chair. “You’re saying I didn’t need to hurt those people. That I’m a bad person.”
I got up from my chair and started backing toward the heavy metal door.
“I’m not bad!” he yelled at me. “You’re bad!”
I knocked on the door and the orderly opened it as Frederick got to his feet.
I slipped through the door as it slammed shut from the impact of his body slamming into it.
“Bad, bad, bad,” he screamed.
“Badbadbadbadbadbadbadbad!”
Spit flew from his mouth landing on the small observation window with metal grates embedded in it.
“You ok, doc,” the orderly said, startling me.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
I turned and walked down the white hallway, hoping the orderly wouldn’t notice the quickness in my step. I ignored the sound of Frederick beating on the door. I ignored all the sounds I heard. I just wanted to get away.
It was a long walk to my office, through many security gates. At each one, the nurse buzzed me through and gave me an acknowledging look that used to be a smile.
I suppose this place gets to everyone eventually.
I finally reached my office, closed and locked the door behind me, and collapsed into my chair. I breathed out a sigh of relief at reaching relative safety. I turned and looked out my window to the beautiful flowers blooming on the trees in the courtyard. I looked up at the tree stretching toward the sky.
I remember when they planted those.
I turned back to my center, my means of solace, the only thing that mattered in this cruel, unfair world. I picked up the picture of my lovely wife and smiled. She was the one who kept me sane all these years. She kept me seeing the best in people. Or at least trying. Sometimes there was no good to see—especially in my patients.
It takes a special kind of doctor to care for the mental needs of those who have done heinous things that are so bad they don’t even bother sending them to prison. They send them to me.
I’m like the dumpster for the dregs of society. Just drop them in the asylum and forget about them.
I kissed my wife and set her back on the bare desk, then turned on my computer and added notes from today’s session. There was never a recommendation for release. Once patients came here the only way they left was in a body bag. There was no curing them, only trying to make them docile until they left.
Oh, there were experiments. That was a large part of how we were funded. Companies would pay for certain tests to be done. Some might call it torture, but we called it research.
I finished typing my notes and leaned back in my seat. The diplomas and degrees stared down from their perches on the bare walls, mocking me. Demanding why I hadn’t gotten a better job.
As usual, I didn’t have an answer.
My office suddenly felt stuffy. I closed down my computer and left. Driving down the packed freeway, all I could think about was collapsing on the couch beside my lovely Elizabeth. Not telling her about my day until she dragged it out of me, then listening to her encourage me to help those who have been left in my care, because I’m the only hope they have.
Traffic was bumper to bumper and not helping my overall opinion of humanity much. Especially when a car that was swerving from lane to lane, nearly sideswiped me. It kept going on in front of me, nearly hitting several other cars.
The driver and passenger seemed to be having a disagreement about how to drive the car and it looked like it was about to come to blows.
Fortunately, they were soon out of sight, and someone else’s problem.
For the next few miles, I kept watching the side of the road waiting to see the offending car sitting in a ditch. However, they surprised me. They must’ve turned off to go terrorize some neighborhood streets with their reckless driving.
I hummed to myself, not wanting to have whatever dreck was on the radio forced on me.
When I was nearly to my exit, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the number as work. I contemplated answering it for a moment, then thought better of it. There had never been a time when work called with good news. And I was in no mood for bad news.
I hummed a little louder, trying to drown out the sound of the ring before it finally stopped.
The closer I got to home the less I thought about work and the more I thought about Elizabeth. Until I turned off at my exit, I had nearly forgotten work altogether. Maybe I would take tomorrow off and go do something with my wife. We hadn’t been out for a while. The weather had been lovely and I know she would adore a walk down by the lake.
My thoughts were interrupted when I turned down our driveway and saw a car in front of the house. It wasn’t quite in the driveway, it was sitting at an angle halfway in the front yard.
I parked my car and slowly got out. Something struck me about this car, but I hadn’t figured out what. I approached the driver’s side to have words with the person still sitting at the wheel.
“Excuse me,” I said staying a few steps back from the driver’s door.
He didn’t answer me.
“Excuse me,” I said a little louder.
Still no answer.
I tapped on the window and he ignored me.
I opened the door.
“Okay, look… “ I said.
But it was I who would do the looking. The man fell out of the car, thudding on the grass. The inside of the car was covered in blood. I looked down and the man’s throat had been cut.
“Oh my God!” I said jumping back.
I watched to see if the man was breathing, but the way his neck was bent at an unnatural angle against my yard told me everything I needed to know.
I glanced through the car but didn’t see the passenger.
It was then my eyes drifted to my front door.
It was open.
I stepped through the shrubs and up onto the porch, walking in a daze. The surrealness of the moment had yet to sink in. I was going inside to check on my wife and make sure everything was ok.
It didn’t strike me as anything more than that.
‘Oh, she just left the door open, that’s all.’
My mind kept trying to tell me that. I wanted desperately to believe it. Even though she had never been that careless during the entire time we’d been married. I had pushed aside all reason and common sense in favor of pure denial.
Everything was going to be ok. With Elizabeth, everything was always ok. She could literally light up a room with her positivity. She was the best person I ever knew. I have no idea how I got so lucky as to know her, let alone be her husband.
I floated in through my front door on my cloud of denial and looked for my wife.
It didn’t take me long to find her.
There was one wall of the living room she was constantly redecorating. She always said it looked bare and empty no matter what she did with it.
She was hanging from that wall, naked, her beautiful body desecrated by slices and rips. Her throat had been slit and blood still poured from it.
I ran to her.
Tried to take her down.
Screamed her name.
And then it was my turn to scream.
I looked down and saw a knife blade sticking out from my abdomen. It was part of the cutlery set I had gotten for Elizabeth three Christmases ago.
I screamed as I slowly turned to face my attacker.
“What’s up, doc?” Frederick said wearing a maniacal grin.
The shock had punched a hole in my reasoning. I saw him standing there, but I couldn’t accept it any more than I could accept my beautiful wife strung up like a macabre painting hanging on our living room wall.
My eyes tried to focus on his face. To make me recognize him as a threat.
“How’s that impulse control workin’ for ya, doc?”
He ripped the knife out of my back.
The pain, along with his arrogance woke me from my shock-induced stupor.
“Now do you understand?” he said, as he shoved the knife into my belly.
I did understand. I understood at that moment that I was already as dead as my wife. I knew that this piece of human garbage had taken something beautiful from this world. I knew I had to do something about it before there was nothing I could do. Before my body succumbed to injuries and I was unable.
I grabbed him by the throat. He tried to laugh, but my grip was fueled by desperation.
He tried to free himself but couldn’t. He began stabbing me over and over. I refused to release him. I carried him by his neck over to the kitchen counter and began bashing his head off the marble.
I was rewarded with spots of his blood. I knew at least I had made him bleed and that made me smile. His eyes grew wide as my grin grew maniacal. I smashed him repeatedly, crushing him against the sink, breaking the faucet, and causing water to spray into the air.
His eyelids fluttered as he lost his grip on the knife.
He was nearly gone. I would take him with me and that would be my parting gift to the world, removing something so evil.
Suddenly, my body wouldn’t obey commands. My grip loosened. I tried to tighten it, but I had lost all control. I looked down and I was standing in a pool of my own blood.
His eyes fluttered open and he coughed.
‘Nonononononono!’ I thought. ‘He can’t live. He can’t win. I had him.’
He stood as I sank to the floor.
“Looks like maybe you do understand, doc,” he said from what seemed like miles away. “Too bad you won’t be around to discuss it. We could have a session and evaluate how it makes you feel.”
His foot came down on my spine. I felt a crack. He started kicking me in the side repeatedly. Splashing water and blood on me as I felt my ribs crack.
I fought with everything I had.
My body didn’t even twitch.
‘Nooooo!,’ I screamed. ‘It can’t end like this.’
I heard a sizzling sound and then there was darkness.
***
I could feel movement.
Wasn’t I dead?
Was this what happened after?
It was still dark.
‘Hello?’ I tried to say.
Nothing. Just the sensation of movement.
Am I in a body bag? Am I on my way to the morgue or the grave? Please don’t let me be buried alive.
But I’m not alive, am I?
I don’t feel any pain. That’s a good thing, but not a good sign. The last thing I remember was lots of pain.
Suddenly there’s light and my movement stops.
I look up from the floor of a house I don’t recognize.
‘Where the hell am I?’
I’m on the floor next to a wall, looking up at an electrical outlet. Nothing around me seems familiar. I try to stand but it feels weird. It isn’t difficult, and there’s still no pain, it just carries an odd sensation with it. Like my body is just relearning things. Just like when I was a toddler. I teeter back and forth as I rise, but eventually, I’m upright.
My first few steps are tentative, but after that, I gain confidence with each stride.
Aside from the strange surroundings, there’s a sensation, like ants crawling all over me.
I pass a bathroom and glance inside. The reflection in the mirror draws me back. I slowly approach it, seeing something unique and terrifying.
It looks like someone drew an outline of a human form using a lightning bolt. The electricity shimmers and crackles as it races around the empty form of the being.
I wonder if it will hurt me.
Not sure if I want to test the limits of my newfound lack of pain, I hesitantly reach for this creature. It reaches for me at the same time. I’m mesmerized by this mutual curiosity.
My hand is about to touch the electric pulse shaped like its hand. I tremble with anticipation and fear as we touch.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel anything except a hard surface.
I move my hand back and forth. The creature does the same. I make quicker movements, and so does it.
Finally, out of frustration, I reach back and strike at the creature.
My hand strikes the hard surface and it splinters. There are now multiple creatures staring back at me.
I step back and come to the horrible realization.
I am the creature.
***
One month later…
“And police have been unable to find any credible leads in the string of brutal killings that began shortly after the patient escaped from the mental hospital last month,” the handsome anchorman stated from behind his desk. “They are asking people to call in if they know the whereabouts of Frederick Winston, now known as, ‘The Mangler’.”
“In other news, the Larsan Electric Company has issued a statement that the recent power surges are no cause for alarm. These surges seem to be random in people's homes and certain businesses. An LEC spokesman stated that there appears to be no pattern to the surges and that so far no one has reported them causing any harm. LEC is tracking down the problem and should have it under control soon.”
The anchorman shifted in his seat and turned to another camera.
“And on a lighter note, with Halloween months away, it seems that reports of ghosts are on the rise,” he said, wearing a half grin. “Several area residents have reported what they call a ghostlike figure, outlined in light, visiting them. Reports vary as to the duration and location of the visits, but they do seem to have a few things in common. The visits are usually short. In fact, most people say that if they blink the figure is gone. No one has reported the ghost doing any harm. And it seems like anyone within close proximity feels a tingling sensation and their hair standing on end.”
“Maybe I should be visited instead of my next hairdresser’s appointment,” the attractive woman anchor said with a laugh.
“Schedule me a visit too,” the male anchor said smiling. “And that’s our news for the evening, good night.”
Jimmy switched the channel.
“Gimme a break,” he said to the TV. “Ghosts? Who’s playing what? This’s some marketing scheme to sell Halloween crap. Like that stunt they pulled a few years back with the clowns hanging around the schools to promote that stupid movie.”
He switched off the TV and rolled over in his bed.
It wasn’t long before his breathing slowed. But before sleep could take him, he noticed a glow in the hallway. He didn’t remember leaving any lights on when he came to bed. Living alone had its advantages. If he heard someone in his apartment, he knew they weren’t supposed to be there. He slowly reached over to the bedstand and pulled out his Glock 9mm handgun, then held it close and listened.
He watched as the glow moved. It seemed like someone was looking around. But for what? He didn’t really have anything aside from his TV, phone, and video games. If anyone wanted those, they would be in a world of hurt. He had been lucky to get this apartment. If he was honest with himself, it cost more than he could afford, but when he had the chance he took it. It was too bad the opening came because the person who lived there before him was one of The Mangler’s victims. That’s probably why he was able to rent the place so quickly and get the price down to where he could almost afford it.
Maybe the glow was one of the street people who were stupid enough to see if there was an empty apartment to claim. That wasn’t gonna fly either. Jimmy had jumped on this apartment to get away from the dingy rat hole he used live in on the other side of town. And there was no way he’d let some bum come in here and take what was his.
The glow crept closer. He could feel the hairs on his arms raise. There was a sound too. It wasn’t loud, almost felt more than heard. A soft crackle, like electricity when it sparked.
The sensory input was almost too much for Jimmy to take. He pointed the gun in the direction of the glow and saw the barrel was shaking. His resolve, that he could deal with anyone as long as he had his gun, was beginning to fade.
The glow became so bright that it finally took form.
Jimmy’s eyes widened. It was the form of a person, just like the news had said.
It seemed to look around the room, then settle its gaze on the bed. Jimmy began to sweat as it approached and stared into his eyes.
It was the oddest thing, staring into what should be eyes, but nothing was there. The flashes of mini lightning bolts formed shapes that looked almost human, but it was just an outline, there was nothing inside what should be the body.
He shoved the shaking gun out from under the blanket and pointed it at the glowing figure.
The figure noted the presence of the gun, then continued to advance.
“S… stop,” Jimmy said. “I’m w… warning you.”
The figure ignored the warning.
Jimmy squeezed the trigger, setting off a deafening shot that went right through the face of the figure.
It acted as though nothing had happened, continuing to advance. The ringing in Jimmy’s ears made all sound seem muffled.
The figure stopped two inches from Jimmy’s face.
“Mangler… “ it said, sounding less like a voice and more like a transmission over an old staticky radio.
“I… I’m not the Mangler,” he said. “The person who used to live here was killed by him.”
It seemed to ponder this for a moment.
“Find Mangler… “ it said.
“I d… don’t know where to find him.”
It moved an inch closer. As the flashes of electricity arced, licked hungrily at Jimmy’s face.
“Find… him… “
“Ok, ok, I’ll find him,” Jimmy said, feeling the heat from the electricity.
The figure seemed to consider that for a moment then backed away. It moved toward the bedroom wall. Then, like someone had turned on a vacuum, it was sucked into an electrical outlet and disappeared.
Jimmy laid back in bed, breathing hard. His eyes darted left and right all around the room. But the only evidence of the figure that remained was the bullet hole in his bedroom wall.
***
The trips through the electrical conduits had become easier. There were still times when I came out someplace I didn’t intend to, but I was usually able to recover quickly and get to where I wanted to go.
But where did I want to go? At first, I wandered around, lost in this new form I found myself trapped inside. It was only after I had overheard a news report about the serial killer they called The Mangler that I gained my purpose.
Of course, Frederick was going to keep killing. Of course, they weren’t going to be able to catch him. He’d been inside away from his victims before and he didn’t like it. Not being able to torture and kill innocents was like a normal person not being able to breathe. Not that I know much about normal or breathing anymore.
I suppose on some level I should thank him. I thought about it for a long time and the only thing that makes any kind of sense is when we were fighting, somehow the water and blood I was laying in got splashed into the electrical socket. Instead of killing me, it bonded with me, making me able to become the electrical current. To ride it like a wave to wherever I wanted.
I became faster than any person ever was. And yet, I wasn’t a person anymore. I have no idea how I retained my consciousness, let alone my memory. But somehow…
I justify it by the old adage, ‘I think therefore I am.’
My life has become an endless hunt for the person who destroyed me, the person I must destroy. I don’t even know what I’ll do when I find him. But I will find him. I will stop him. This time, I won’t fail. I’ll end him like I should’ve before.
I owe it to the people he’s tortured and killed since my failure. Most of all, I owe it to my wife. I know she wouldn’t approve of my bloodlust. She would say there must be some other option. But if she would be able to see her dead body hanging naked from our living room wall, I think she just might change her mind.
My thoughts are interrupted as I arrive at my next destination, another victim’s house. I’m not sure what I’ll find that the police haven’t, but I have to try. Maybe I can pick up his scent somehow. A plan almost assuredly doomed to failure since I lost all sense of smell in the transformation.
I’m surprised though that I can still see and hear. I suppose waves of light and sound somehow intersect with my electrical body and it senses them. I don’t question it. I’ve learned to just go with it.
On the plus side, I don’t have to worry about eating, drinking, or using the bathroom. I guess there’s an upside to everything. Elizabeth would be so proud of me.
I arrive at the room where the victim was murdered. Looking around there’s still blood everywhere, along with evidence markers where they took pictures.
The sheer amount of blood tells me he took his time. He desecrated this girl in her own room. Her parents must’ve been out because there’s no way they didn’t hear the struggle. There were books on the floor, a chair overturned, and blood everywhere. The room was a disaster. It looked like she fought him. I wish she would’ve succeeded where I had failed.
But then, I wish I hadn’t failed, and this girl was still alive.
There’s nothing I can do now except find him and end him.
Finding him was proving more difficult than I thought. I had unlimited access to anywhere with electricity, but I couldn’t use a computer or a GPS. I was limited to transportation only through electricity. Granted that still made me the fastest being alive. I say being because I don’t think I qualify as human anymore. But I was limited to traveling to a place and then trying to find out where I was and if he was there.
If he knew I was searching for him all he would have to do is live the rest of his days in a cabin in the woods with no electricity. I’d never be able to reach him.
I believe two things worked in my favor with that theory.
First, I don’t think he’s that smart, and second, I don’t think he knows I’m looking for him. I believe that surviving our fight only further empowered him to kill. When someone feels invincible, they’re bound to make a mistake.
An officer walked into the room and I ducked back into an outlet. I was able to hang on where I was and watch from inside the outlet without being transported somewhere else.
The officer looked startled and stared at the empty air that I had just vacated. She looked like she was unsure if she trusted what her eyes had seen in the instant before I vanished.
She slowly stepped over to the corner and bent down to peer into the outlet. For a moment I wondered if she could see me, and what exactly she would see. But then her radio squawked calling her to another scene. When I heard the voice on the radio say the address and that they might have the killer cornered, I didn’t waste any time.
It was maybe fifteen seconds until I was across town at the address I’d heard. There was a lot of screaming and crying going on. I came out of the outlet and saw blood on the floor beside a body that wasn’t moving.
There was a girl being beaten by a man with his back to me. He turned to take another swing and I knew my search was over.
“My psychiatrist used to tell me I needed to work on my impulse control,” he said calmly as he slapped her. “I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been here ten whole minutes and you’re still alive.”
I shot across the room and knocked him to the floor. He jumped back up and looked around for what had hit him.
“What the hell?”
I saw the fear in his eyes when he saw me. I know Elizabeth would’ve been ashamed, of me, but I was enjoying his anxiety. After all he had done to me and so many others, I drank it in like an elixir.
He started edging toward the door. I was there in a heartbeat. His eyes darted back and forth between where I used to be and where I now stood. The panic in his eyes doubled.
I wanted to make him suffer, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake I’d made before and let him escape with his life.
I lashed out with a bolt that used to be my arm. The energy slashed through his shirt and fried a hole in his shoulder.
He screamed in pain and horror as he looked at the smoking hole in his skin. He tried to run but in an instant, I was there in front of him firing another bolt and searing the skin across his waist to his jeans.
His screams of pain and rage were only matched by the feral desperation in his eyes.
Not knowing what do to, he went with the familiar. Attack the innocent. He grabbed the girl who had been crawling away from the scene.
He grabbed her again and held her in front of him like a human shield.
What a waste of skin.
I fired a bolt into a ceiling light beside me which ricocheted and hit him full force in the leg, nearly severing it.
He went down like a ton of bricks, trying to hold on to his hostage, but she was fighting to get away from him. She broke free and he crumpled to the floor.
“What do you want?” he screamed at me.
With everything that is within me, I wanted to tell him who I was, what he had taken from me, and what I was about to take from him.
But I didn’t want to give the satisfaction. I wanted to give him only uncertainty and fear to cling to.
I could feel the seconds ticking away. I knew I had to make the most of this opportunity or he would get away again. And after this, I might never find him.
I unleashed every ounce of energy at him. I couldn’t even see him, he was only a smoking pillar of frying skin.
Just then, the police burst through the door.
“FREE… “ the first officer started then the shock of what he was seeing stole the rest of the word from his mouth.
He stood there, mouth agape when the female officer stepped in behind him. She looked at me and her wide eyes narrowed as she put two and two together and recognized me from the last crime scene.
I had no reason to fear. I didn’t know if I could even be harmed in my current state. But when you see that blue uniform burst through a door with a gun aimed at you, all rational thought takes a vacation.
I dove for the outlet and was gone. I didn’t even care where I was going. I knew I had done what I wanted to. The monster was destroyed.
Something felt different. Was it pride at finishing my crusade? Was it shame knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t have wanted me to do it?
I don’t know but there was something else. It was like there was added weight to my existence. I guess you can have a conscious in whatever you’d call this existence.
I appeared in the place that made the most sense, ironically. It was my old home. The one where everything I loved died, including me. It was where I took on this unintended new existence.
Is that why I felt this extra weight? Was it some cathartic aftereffect of my search for revenge that was finally over?
I looked around the charred debris of what used to be my home. In my mind's eye, I didn’t see the burned-out shell of what was left. I saw it as it was when we first moved in. When Elizabeth and I started decorating. When the interior was finally finished and I turned to her and said, “For now.” Knowing she would decide to change everything at some time in the future when she was bored, just like all women seem to do.
I remember getting a paintbrush across the mouth for that comment. I smiled remembering kissing her with my freshly painted mouth and ending up in the bedroom.
As I turned toward where I’d entered the house, my smile quickly faded. For some reason, I was still connected to the outlet. That had never happened before.
Another curiosity arose when I noticed the color of my electrical body was now tinged purple. It had always been blue before.
The tail of what had yet to come out of the outlet was red. As I pulled and it came the rest of the way out, it merged with me and turned purple.
“What the hell?” I heard someone say.
I whipped around but no one was there.
“Where am I?” the voice said.
“Who are you?” I said to the air.
There was a long silence.
“Doc?” the voice said.
As far as I knew it wasn’t possible for my spine to turn to ice, since I no longer had a spine, but the feeling seemed the same.
“Frederick?” I said.
“What happened?” he said. “This crazy electric thing attacked me and now… wait a minute. How am I talking to you? You died months ago.”
My shock gave way to utter despair. My enemy was now part of me.
2023.03.22 13:52 Zacryon About the "will to live" and it's consequences on my choice of diet
Hello everyone,
before we dive into my starting point for a discussion I first want to make some important remarks:
My wife is a vegan and spent some time here, which is why she warned me, that it's not appreciated here if someone says something like "eating plants is wrong as well, because plants also have feelings" and most of the time those people just seem to be trolls who like to provoke.
Even though my philosophy is not exactly this, it shares some similarities. I am very interested in a meaningful and constructive discussion with you and I will try my best to be a civilized and respectful conversational partner. I guarantee you, I am not here to troll. So I hope my post will be good enough for you to take me seriously. This topic has been bugging me for quite a while now and I am currently sitting at an ethical dead end.
Now that we got that out of the way, I'll present you my background and my ethical viewpoint on my dietary choices.
My main motivation behind this is environmental protection. It's been proven over and over again that livestock is one of the major contributors to climate-change and several other environmental issues. I don't want to contribute to this. That's why I drastically and very conciously reduced my consumption of animal products. Specifically, I reduced my meat consumption to - at first - once or at maximum three times a week. Today I eat meat so rarely that I don't even know anymore how often I eat it. Maybe once to three times a month tops? And then several month no meat at all?Still, there is my daily glass of milk and the other occasional animal-based food products. At least with regard to milk: I started to mix it with products from some plant-milk brands which I tried and which taste somewhat okay to me. That helped to reduce my cow-milk consumption by about 50%.
This begs the question, why do I still consume animal-based food at all? Since it's very important to me to protect the environment, it would be the best to abstain from that completely. Based on this premise, this is true. But I have two reasons which speak against this:
One reason is that I try to "listen to my body signals". As far as I can tell my body senses work fine. If I am thirsty, my body tells me that I need to drink. If I am hungry, I need to eat. If I have the (very rare) appetite for sugar, my body probably needs some sugar. The same with salt and other nutrients, like fats, products which contain specific minerals or vitamins et cetera. And then it can happen that I have a specific desire for meat. Which is why I then also follow that desire. That's probably my body telling me that I need a combination of nutrients, which I can easily find in meat. I have yet to find suitable replacements for those situations. (Note: I know that it's not difficult to meet ones nutrional needs with a purely plant-based diet. I am talking about those moments of "urges" where my body seems do desire very specific "configurations".) Admittedly, I don't know how much of such desires has to be contributed to psychological effects like associations with "comfort food". I caught myself having a desire for e.g. a very cheesy meat pizza in times when I was at mental low points. But I really try to be critical about this. (At specific and intense psychological low points I find it then again justified to consume meat-products especially because of the positive effect this can have on my mental state. But that occurs very rarely.)
The other reason is my ethical point of view about dietary choices, which I will present to you know.
But who am I to judge which forms of life deserve to live and others don't? I am not able to say to have a right to decide this. All I can say is - and that's a sad truth of life - in order to live myself I have to destroy life. Since that's the way evolution has thrown me into this pool of life. I can't just stick my feet into the earth and suck already dead life matter (which I didn't destroy) while sunbathing. It would be great, if we had the technology to feed ourselves without the need to destroy any other forms of life. But we are not there yet. And until this is the case I have to make a decision every day: Do I want to live? If so, I need to accept that I can only live if I destroy life.
In this regard, I try to be fair. Each form of life has equal value to me. There is no life which I am allowed to prefer over the other. What would give me any justification otherwise? I have to respect that every form of life "wants" to live. And therefore I need to treat them equally, since no form of life is "better" than the other.
Now you might say that the difference is that plants are not known to be able to experience pain, have a nervous system or a conciousness, even if very primitive. That's a good point, which my wife also brought up. Thus the goal of veganism is to avoid unnecessary pain ("pain" also in a broader sense than just physical pain due to e.g. injuries).
But from my point of view animals are just another kind of life form which have an extra set of sensors, which enable them to instinctively prefer one condition over the other in order to improve their chances of survival and procreation. If e.g. plants wouldn't be able to sense the direction of incident sunlight, their chances of survival could decrease. Pain is a sensation which we - as mammals - are able to resonate with. But, on a low level view, it's simply put "just another form of survival-related sensation". A form of sensation which can become very complex, but is then again also the result of evolutionary processes since those sensations enhance success chances of survival and / or procreation. In that sense animals, plants, fungi, bacteria and every other form of life I am not able to name, are the same: a complex machinery which basically respond to a stimulus with a form of reflex.
To summarize: To me all forms of life are equal, therefore I have to treat them equally with regard to my dietary choices. I have no justification to prefer one over the other.
Nevertheless the respect for the will to live of all life forms influences my dietary choices in so far that I also "need to" consume animal-products in order to stay fair to all forms of life. In other words, my wish to protect the environment led to a bias towards animal-free products, but my philosophical view point causes sufficient pressure to justify my consumption of animal-based products if I am about to consume them.
My wife brought up another good point, which then led me to an ethical dead end: If I want to destroy the least amount of life, then it would be logical to stay away from meat and other animal products, because animals are fed plants, and I feed on the animals or their products. If I would just consume plants instead, then I could reduce the overall amount of destroyed life. This is a very utilitarian ethical approach, but a very compelling one since I deal with most things in life from a utilitarian perspective. Through further discussions it then became clear that, unfortunately, I seem to be very dogmatic about this philosophy. Even though I know that my wife is right with what she said, it feels wrong to me. Just because it's better to prefer the consumption of one life form over the other from this utilitarian perspective, this doesn't make it "right".
Since then I am basically sitting at an ethical dead end and don't know what to do anymore, which is why I decided to temporarily continue the flexitarian path I began until I get a resolution for this ethical problem.
Therefore my post here is the attempt to get additional input which I could use to argue for the one side or the other and thereby - hopefully - getting me out of my dead end.
I am not sorry for writing so much. I tried to explain myself as good as possible in such a reddit post and also tried to provide you with plenty of argumentative attack surface.
Thanks in advance to everyone, who has read everything so far and takes the time to answer me! I am eager to read your positions and have a constructive discussion with you.
submitted by Zacryon to DebateAVegan [link] [comments]
before we dive into my starting point for a discussion I first want to make some important remarks:
My wife is a vegan and spent some time here, which is why she warned me, that it's not appreciated here if someone says something like "eating plants is wrong as well, because plants also have feelings" and most of the time those people just seem to be trolls who like to provoke.
Even though my philosophy is not exactly this, it shares some similarities. I am very interested in a meaningful and constructive discussion with you and I will try my best to be a civilized and respectful conversational partner. I guarantee you, I am not here to troll. So I hope my post will be good enough for you to take me seriously. This topic has been bugging me for quite a while now and I am currently sitting at an ethical dead end.
Now that we got that out of the way, I'll present you my background and my ethical viewpoint on my dietary choices.
Background
I am, for several years now, a flexitarian. Meaning, I mostly eat plant-based food, besides a regular daily milk intake and some occasional slices of cheese or other "vegetarian-approved" products. I rarely eat meat, but when I do, it's mostly because of a significant "urge" or appetite. Most of the time I don't care about what I eat, as long as it is not disadvantageous in terms of effects on health and as long as it tastes good to me. (That's why my wife is having an easy time with me regarding our meal planning.) Also it's important to me to to have a balanced diet with respect to nutritional values.My main motivation behind this is environmental protection. It's been proven over and over again that livestock is one of the major contributors to climate-change and several other environmental issues. I don't want to contribute to this. That's why I drastically and very conciously reduced my consumption of animal products. Specifically, I reduced my meat consumption to - at first - once or at maximum three times a week. Today I eat meat so rarely that I don't even know anymore how often I eat it. Maybe once to three times a month tops? And then several month no meat at all?Still, there is my daily glass of milk and the other occasional animal-based food products. At least with regard to milk: I started to mix it with products from some plant-milk brands which I tried and which taste somewhat okay to me. That helped to reduce my cow-milk consumption by about 50%.
This begs the question, why do I still consume animal-based food at all? Since it's very important to me to protect the environment, it would be the best to abstain from that completely. Based on this premise, this is true. But I have two reasons which speak against this:
One reason is that I try to "listen to my body signals". As far as I can tell my body senses work fine. If I am thirsty, my body tells me that I need to drink. If I am hungry, I need to eat. If I have the (very rare) appetite for sugar, my body probably needs some sugar. The same with salt and other nutrients, like fats, products which contain specific minerals or vitamins et cetera. And then it can happen that I have a specific desire for meat. Which is why I then also follow that desire. That's probably my body telling me that I need a combination of nutrients, which I can easily find in meat. I have yet to find suitable replacements for those situations. (Note: I know that it's not difficult to meet ones nutrional needs with a purely plant-based diet. I am talking about those moments of "urges" where my body seems do desire very specific "configurations".) Admittedly, I don't know how much of such desires has to be contributed to psychological effects like associations with "comfort food". I caught myself having a desire for e.g. a very cheesy meat pizza in times when I was at mental low points. But I really try to be critical about this. (At specific and intense psychological low points I find it then again justified to consume meat-products especially because of the positive effect this can have on my mental state. But that occurs very rarely.)
The other reason is my ethical point of view about dietary choices, which I will present to you know.
Philosophy: "Respecting The Will to Live"
Virtually every form of life known to me shows in some way or another a will to live. This expression of "will" is meant not only in an active conscious sense, but also form of a more passive observational one. Meaning: even without conscience all forms of life are able to express their "will" to live. A lot of plants will grow towards the sunlight in order to be able to live, grow and at some point maybe reproduce. Some plants are able to heal their wounds, some forms of life, like slime-molds, can even "solve mazes" in order to upkeep their survival. (See for example: https://www.nature.com/articles/nature.2012.11811 .) There are also very intriguing examples of plants, which communicate with each other in order to defend themselves from predators. While mammals or other animals will fight or flee in order to stay alive. This will to live is natural. It emerges from the very behaviour of life. We wouldn't have life on earth if life wouldn't "want" to live. This is not always a conscious decision, a lot of times rather a reflex which is encoded via the DNA and programmed by evolutional processes. So I understand the "will to live" as an abstract form of will, not only a conscious one, but an intrinsical one, a very own feature of life forms themselves. Needless to say that the plethora of forms of life on our precious planet have evolved various strategies to stay alive and reproduce.But who am I to judge which forms of life deserve to live and others don't? I am not able to say to have a right to decide this. All I can say is - and that's a sad truth of life - in order to live myself I have to destroy life. Since that's the way evolution has thrown me into this pool of life. I can't just stick my feet into the earth and suck already dead life matter (which I didn't destroy) while sunbathing. It would be great, if we had the technology to feed ourselves without the need to destroy any other forms of life. But we are not there yet. And until this is the case I have to make a decision every day: Do I want to live? If so, I need to accept that I can only live if I destroy life.
In this regard, I try to be fair. Each form of life has equal value to me. There is no life which I am allowed to prefer over the other. What would give me any justification otherwise? I have to respect that every form of life "wants" to live. And therefore I need to treat them equally, since no form of life is "better" than the other.
Now you might say that the difference is that plants are not known to be able to experience pain, have a nervous system or a conciousness, even if very primitive. That's a good point, which my wife also brought up. Thus the goal of veganism is to avoid unnecessary pain ("pain" also in a broader sense than just physical pain due to e.g. injuries).
But from my point of view animals are just another kind of life form which have an extra set of sensors, which enable them to instinctively prefer one condition over the other in order to improve their chances of survival and procreation. If e.g. plants wouldn't be able to sense the direction of incident sunlight, their chances of survival could decrease. Pain is a sensation which we - as mammals - are able to resonate with. But, on a low level view, it's simply put "just another form of survival-related sensation". A form of sensation which can become very complex, but is then again also the result of evolutionary processes since those sensations enhance success chances of survival and / or procreation. In that sense animals, plants, fungi, bacteria and every other form of life I am not able to name, are the same: a complex machinery which basically respond to a stimulus with a form of reflex.
To summarize: To me all forms of life are equal, therefore I have to treat them equally with regard to my dietary choices. I have no justification to prefer one over the other.
Ethical Dead End
I got one justification to prefer plant-based foods over animal-based ones, which is the protection of the environment which I mentioned earlier. If I don't contribute to protecting the environment, I am one of those who are responsible for a large scale and unnecessary destruction of life on this planet. I don't need climate-change to survive, therefore I have to do everything possible to prevent it. But I need to eat in order to survive, therefore it is necessary to destroy the least sufficient amount of life to stay alive myself.Nevertheless the respect for the will to live of all life forms influences my dietary choices in so far that I also "need to" consume animal-products in order to stay fair to all forms of life. In other words, my wish to protect the environment led to a bias towards animal-free products, but my philosophical view point causes sufficient pressure to justify my consumption of animal-based products if I am about to consume them.
My wife brought up another good point, which then led me to an ethical dead end: If I want to destroy the least amount of life, then it would be logical to stay away from meat and other animal products, because animals are fed plants, and I feed on the animals or their products. If I would just consume plants instead, then I could reduce the overall amount of destroyed life. This is a very utilitarian ethical approach, but a very compelling one since I deal with most things in life from a utilitarian perspective. Through further discussions it then became clear that, unfortunately, I seem to be very dogmatic about this philosophy. Even though I know that my wife is right with what she said, it feels wrong to me. Just because it's better to prefer the consumption of one life form over the other from this utilitarian perspective, this doesn't make it "right".
Since then I am basically sitting at an ethical dead end and don't know what to do anymore, which is why I decided to temporarily continue the flexitarian path I began until I get a resolution for this ethical problem.
Therefore my post here is the attempt to get additional input which I could use to argue for the one side or the other and thereby - hopefully - getting me out of my dead end.
I am not sorry for writing so much. I tried to explain myself as good as possible in such a reddit post and also tried to provide you with plenty of argumentative attack surface.
Thanks in advance to everyone, who has read everything so far and takes the time to answer me! I am eager to read your positions and have a constructive discussion with you.
2023.03.22 13:51 Horror_writer_1717 I used to be a doctor in an insane asylum. My patient destroyed my world.
This story needs to be told. Those who have suffered must understand why. It’s not as simple as some have made it to be, which is why it needs to come from the person most responsible… me.
It began when I was least expecting it. But then don’t things always seem to happen that way?
***
“I’m tellin' ya, doc, people just don’t understand,” Frederick said while rocking back and forth in the chair.
“What exactly don’t they understand?” I said, trying to look more relaxed than I felt.
“There’s just something that takes over. You can’t stop it.”
“Impulse control?”
“What’s that mean?” Frederick said, struggling against his straight jacket, trying to get comfortable.
“It means that when you want to do something, you try your hardest not to. It means you try to control or suppress the urge to do things you know are bad.”
Frederick’s mouth lolled open. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Why would I want to do that?”
I suppressed the urge to sigh.
“Because that’s what people do,” I said. “They think about doing bad things, but then they control themselves and don’t do them because those things are wrong and could hurt other people.”
“Hurting people is wrong?” he said.
“Yes, Frederick, hurting people is wrong.”
He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away a fly that was annoying him.
“Why?”
“Why is hurting people wrong?”
“No, why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re saying I’m bad,” he said trying to rise from his chair. “You’re saying I didn’t need to hurt those people. That I’m a bad person.”
I got up from my chair and started backing toward the heavy metal door.
“I’m not bad!” he yelled at me. “You’re bad!”
I knocked on the door and the orderly opened it as Frederick got to his feet.
I slipped through the door as it slammed shut from the impact of his body slamming into it.
“Bad, bad, bad,” he screamed.
“Badbadbadbadbadbadbadbad!”
Spit flew from his mouth landing on the small observation window with metal grates embedded in it.
“You ok, doc,” the orderly said, startling me.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
I turned and walked down the white hallway, hoping the orderly wouldn’t notice the quickness in my step. I ignored the sound of Frederick beating on the door. I ignored all the sounds I heard. I just wanted to get away.
It was a long walk to my office, through many security gates. At each one, the nurse buzzed me through and gave me an acknowledging look that used to be a smile.
I suppose this place gets to everyone eventually.
I finally reached my office, closed and locked the door behind me, and collapsed into my chair. I breathed out a sigh of relief at reaching relative safety. I turned and looked out my window to the beautiful flowers blooming on the trees in the courtyard. I looked up at the tree stretching toward the sky.
I remember when they planted those.
I turned back to my center, my means of solace, the only thing that mattered in this cruel, unfair world. I picked up the picture of my lovely wife and smiled. She was the one who kept me sane all these years. She kept me seeing the best in people. Or at least trying. Sometimes there was no good to see—especially in my patients.
It takes a special kind of doctor to care for the mental needs of those who have done heinous things that are so bad they don’t even bother sending them to prison. They send them to me.
I’m like the dumpster for the dregs of society. Just drop them in the asylum and forget about them.
I kissed my wife and set her back on the bare desk, then turned on my computer and added notes from today’s session. There was never a recommendation for release. Once patients came here the only way they left was in a body bag. There was no curing them, only trying to make them docile until they left.
Oh, there were experiments. That was a large part of how we were funded. Companies would pay for certain tests to be done. Some might call it torture, but we called it research.
I finished typing my notes and leaned back in my seat. The diplomas and degrees stared down from their perches on the bare walls, mocking me. Demanding why I hadn’t gotten a better job.
As usual, I didn’t have an answer.
My office suddenly felt stuffy. I closed down my computer and left. Driving down the packed freeway, all I could think about was collapsing on the couch beside my lovely Elizabeth. Not telling her about my day until she dragged it out of me, then listening to her encourage me to help those who have been left in my care, because I’m the only hope they have.
Traffic was bumper to bumper and not helping my overall opinion of humanity much. Especially when a car that was swerving from lane to lane, nearly sideswiped me. It kept going on in front of me, nearly hitting several other cars.
The driver and passenger seemed to be having a disagreement about how to drive the car and it looked like it was about to come to blows.
Fortunately, they were soon out of sight, and someone else’s problem.
For the next few miles, I kept watching the side of the road waiting to see the offending car sitting in a ditch. However, they surprised me. They must’ve turned off to go terrorize some neighborhood streets with their reckless driving.
I hummed to myself, not wanting to have whatever dreck was on the radio forced on me.
When I was nearly to my exit, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the number as work. I contemplated answering it for a moment, then thought better of it. There had never been a time when work called with good news. And I was in no mood for bad news.
I hummed a little louder, trying to drown out the sound of the ring before it finally stopped.
The closer I got to home the less I thought about work and the more I thought about Elizabeth. Until I turned off at my exit, I had nearly forgotten work altogether. Maybe I would take tomorrow off and go do something with my wife. We hadn’t been out for a while. The weather had been lovely and I know she would adore a walk down by the lake.
My thoughts were interrupted when I turned down our driveway and saw a car in front of the house. It wasn’t quite in the driveway, it was sitting at an angle halfway in the front yard.
I parked my car and slowly got out. Something struck me about this car, but I hadn’t figured out what. I approached the driver’s side to have words with the person still sitting at the wheel.
“Excuse me,” I said staying a few steps back from the driver’s door.
He didn’t answer me.
“Excuse me,” I said a little louder.
Still no answer.
I tapped on the window and he ignored me.
I opened the door.
“Okay, look… “ I said.
But it was I who would do the looking. The man fell out of the car, thudding on the grass. The inside of the car was covered in blood. I looked down and the man’s throat had been cut.
“Oh my God!” I said jumping back.
I watched to see if the man was breathing, but the way his neck was bent at an unnatural angle against my yard told me everything I needed to know.
I glanced through the car but didn’t see the passenger.
It was then my eyes drifted to my front door.
It was open.
I stepped through the shrubs and up onto the porch, walking in a daze. The surrealness of the moment had yet to sink in. I was going inside to check on my wife and make sure everything was ok.
It didn’t strike me as anything more than that.
‘Oh, she just left the door open, that’s all.’
My mind kept trying to tell me that. I wanted desperately to believe it. Even though she had never been that careless during the entire time we’d been married. I had pushed aside all reason and common sense in favor of pure denial.
Everything was going to be ok. With Elizabeth, everything was always ok. She could literally light up a room with her positivity. She was the best person I ever knew. I have no idea how I got so lucky as to know her, let alone be her husband.
I floated in through my front door on my cloud of denial and looked for my wife.
It didn’t take me long to find her.
There was one wall of the living room she was constantly redecorating. She always said it looked bare and empty no matter what she did with it.
She was hanging from that wall, naked, her beautiful body desecrated by slices and rips. Her throat had been slit and blood still poured from it.
I ran to her.
Tried to take her down.
Screamed her name.
And then it was my turn to scream.
I looked down and saw a knife blade sticking out from my abdomen. It was part of the cutlery set I had gotten for Elizabeth three Christmases ago.
I screamed as I slowly turned to face my attacker.
“What’s up, doc?” Frederick said wearing a maniacal grin.
The shock had punched a hole in my reasoning. I saw him standing there, but I couldn’t accept it any more than I could accept my beautiful wife strung up like a macabre painting hanging on our living room wall.
My eyes tried to focus on his face. To make me recognize him as a threat.
“How’s that impulse control workin’ for ya, doc?”
He ripped the knife out of my back.
The pain, along with his arrogance woke me from my shock-induced stupor.
“Now do you understand?” he said, as he shoved the knife into my belly.
I did understand. I understood at that moment that I was already as dead as my wife. I knew that this piece of human garbage had taken something beautiful from this world. I knew I had to do something about it before there was nothing I could do. Before my body succumbed to injuries and I was unable.
I grabbed him by the throat. He tried to laugh, but my grip was fueled by desperation.
He tried to free himself but couldn’t. He began stabbing me over and over. I refused to release him. I carried him by his neck over to the kitchen counter and began bashing his head off the marble.
I was rewarded with spots of his blood. I knew at least I had made him bleed and that made me smile. His eyes grew wide as my grin grew maniacal. I smashed him repeatedly, crushing him against the sink, breaking the faucet, and causing water to spray into the air.
His eyelids fluttered as he lost his grip on the knife.
He was nearly gone. I would take him with me and that would be my parting gift to the world, removing something so evil.
Suddenly, my body wouldn’t obey commands. My grip loosened. I tried to tighten it, but I had lost all control. I looked down and I was standing in a pool of my own blood.
His eyes fluttered open and he coughed.
‘Nonononononono!’ I thought. ‘He can’t live. He can’t win. I had him.’
He stood as I sank to the floor.
“Looks like maybe you do understand, doc,” he said from what seemed like miles away. “Too bad you won’t be around to discuss it. We could have a session and evaluate how it makes you feel.”
His foot came down on my spine. I felt a crack. He started kicking me in the side repeatedly. Splashing water and blood on me as I felt my ribs crack.
I fought with everything I had.
My body didn’t even twitch.
‘Nooooo!,’ I screamed. ‘It can’t end like this.’
I heard a sizzling sound and then there was darkness.
***
I could feel movement.
Wasn’t I dead?
Was this what happened after?
It was still dark.
‘Hello?’ I tried to say.
Nothing. Just the sensation of movement.
Am I in a body bag? Am I on my way to the morgue or the grave? Please don’t let me be buried alive.
But I’m not alive, am I?
I don’t feel any pain. That’s a good thing, but not a good sign. The last thing I remember was lots of pain.
Suddenly there’s light and my movement stops.
I look up from the floor of a house I don’t recognize.
‘Where the hell am I?’
I’m on the floor next to a wall, looking up at an electrical outlet. Nothing around me seems familiar. I try to stand but it feels weird. It isn’t difficult, and there’s still no pain, it just carries an odd sensation with it. Like my body is just relearning things. Just like when I was a toddler. I teeter back and forth as I rise, but eventually, I’m upright.
My first few steps are tentative, but after that, I gain confidence with each stride.
Aside from the strange surroundings, there’s a sensation, like ants crawling all over me.
I pass a bathroom and glance inside. The reflection in the mirror draws me back. I slowly approach it, seeing something unique and terrifying.
It looks like someone drew an outline of a human form using a lightning bolt. The electricity shimmers and crackles as it races around the empty form of the being.
I wonder if it will hurt me.
Not sure if I want to test the limits of my newfound lack of pain, I hesitantly reach for this creature. It reaches for me at the same time. I’m mesmerized by this mutual curiosity.
My hand is about to touch the electric pulse shaped like its hand. I tremble with anticipation and fear as we touch.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel anything except a hard surface.
I move my hand back and forth. The creature does the same. I make quicker movements, and so does it.
Finally, out of frustration, I reach back and strike at the creature.
My hand strikes the hard surface and it splinters. There are now multiple creatures staring back at me.
I step back and come to the horrible realization.
I am the creature.
***
One month later…
“And police have been unable to find any credible leads in the string of brutal killings that began shortly after the patient escaped from the mental hospital last month,” the handsome anchorman stated from behind his desk. “They are asking people to call in if they know the whereabouts of Frederick Winston, now known as, ‘The Mangler’.”
“In other news, the Larsan Electric Company has issued a statement that the recent power surges are no cause for alarm. These surges seem to be random in people's homes and certain businesses. An LEC spokesman stated that there appears to be no pattern to the surges and that so far no one has reported them causing any harm. LEC is tracking down the problem and should have it under control soon.”
The anchorman shifted in his seat and turned to another camera.
“And on a lighter note, with Halloween months away, it seems that reports of ghosts are on the rise,” he said, wearing a half grin. “Several area residents have reported what they call a ghostlike figure, outlined in light, visiting them. Reports vary as to the duration and location of the visits, but they do seem to have a few things in common. The visits are usually short. In fact, most people say that if they blink the figure is gone. No one has reported the ghost doing any harm. And it seems like anyone within close proximity feels a tingling sensation and their hair standing on end.”
“Maybe I should be visited instead of my next hairdresser’s appointment,” the attractive woman anchor said with a laugh.
“Schedule me a visit too,” the male anchor said smiling. “And that’s our news for the evening, good night.”
Jimmy switched the channel.
“Gimme a break,” he said to the TV. “Ghosts? Who’s playing what? This’s some marketing scheme to sell Halloween crap. Like that stunt they pulled a few years back with the clowns hanging around the schools to promote that stupid movie.”
He switched off the TV and rolled over in his bed.
It wasn’t long before his breathing slowed. But before sleep could take him, he noticed a glow in the hallway. He didn’t remember leaving any lights on when he came to bed. Living alone had its advantages. If he heard someone in his apartment, he knew they weren’t supposed to be there. He slowly reached over to the bedstand and pulled out his Glock 9mm handgun, then held it close and listened.
He watched as the glow moved. It seemed like someone was looking around. But for what? He didn’t really have anything aside from his TV, phone, and video games. If anyone wanted those, they would be in a world of hurt. He had been lucky to get this apartment. If he was honest with himself, it cost more than he could afford, but when he had the chance he took it. It was too bad the opening came because the person who lived there before him was one of The Mangler’s victims. That’s probably why he was able to rent the place so quickly and get the price down to where he could almost afford it.
Maybe the glow was one of the street people who were stupid enough to see if there was an empty apartment to claim. That wasn’t gonna fly either. Jimmy had jumped on this apartment to get away from the dingy rat hole he used live in on the other side of town. And there was no way he’d let some bum come in here and take what was his.
The glow crept closer. He could feel the hairs on his arms raise. There was a sound too. It wasn’t loud, almost felt more than heard. A soft crackle, like electricity when it sparked.
The sensory input was almost too much for Jimmy to take. He pointed the gun in the direction of the glow and saw the barrel was shaking. His resolve, that he could deal with anyone as long as he had his gun, was beginning to fade.
The glow became so bright that it finally took form.
Jimmy’s eyes widened. It was the form of a person, just like the news had said.
It seemed to look around the room, then settle its gaze on the bed. Jimmy began to sweat as it approached and stared into his eyes.
It was the oddest thing, staring into what should be eyes, but nothing was there. The flashes of mini lightning bolts formed shapes that looked almost human, but it was just an outline, there was nothing inside what should be the body.
He shoved the shaking gun out from under the blanket and pointed it at the glowing figure.
The figure noted the presence of the gun, then continued to advance.
“S… stop,” Jimmy said. “I’m w… warning you.”
The figure ignored the warning.
Jimmy squeezed the trigger, setting off a deafening shot that went right through the face of the figure.
It acted as though nothing had happened, continuing to advance. The ringing in Jimmy’s ears made all sound seem muffled.
The figure stopped two inches from Jimmy’s face.
“Mangler… “ it said, sounding less like a voice and more like a transmission over an old staticky radio.
“I… I’m not the Mangler,” he said. “The person who used to live here was killed by him.”
It seemed to ponder this for a moment.
“Find Mangler… “ it said.
“I d… don’t know where to find him.”
It moved an inch closer. As the flashes of electricity arced, licked hungrily at Jimmy’s face.
“Find… him… “
“Ok, ok, I’ll find him,” Jimmy said, feeling the heat from the electricity.
The figure seemed to consider that for a moment then backed away. It moved toward the bedroom wall. Then, like someone had turned on a vacuum, it was sucked into an electrical outlet and disappeared.
Jimmy laid back in bed, breathing hard. His eyes darted left and right all around the room. But the only evidence of the figure that remained was the bullet hole in his bedroom wall.
***
The trips through the electrical conduits had become easier. There were still times when I came out someplace I didn’t intend to, but I was usually able to recover quickly and get to where I wanted to go.
But where did I want to go? At first, I wandered around, lost in this new form I found myself trapped inside. It was only after I had overheard a news report about the serial killer they called The Mangler that I gained my purpose.
Of course, Frederick was going to keep killing. Of course, they weren’t going to be able to catch him. He’d been inside away from his victims before and he didn’t like it. Not being able to torture and kill innocents was like a normal person not being able to breathe. Not that I know much about normal or breathing anymore.
I suppose on some level I should thank him. I thought about it for a long time and the only thing that makes any kind of sense is when we were fighting, somehow the water and blood I was laying in got splashed into the electrical socket. Instead of killing me, it bonded with me, making me able to become the electrical current. To ride it like a wave to wherever I wanted.
I became faster than any person ever was. And yet, I wasn’t a person anymore. I have no idea how I retained my consciousness, let alone my memory. But somehow…
I justify it by the old adage, ‘I think therefore I am.’
My life has become an endless hunt for the person who destroyed me, the person I must destroy. I don’t even know what I’ll do when I find him. But I will find him. I will stop him. This time, I won’t fail. I’ll end him like I should’ve before.
I owe it to the people he’s tortured and killed since my failure. Most of all, I owe it to my wife. I know she wouldn’t approve of my bloodlust. She would say there must be some other option. But if she would be able to see her dead body hanging naked from our living room wall, I think she just might change her mind.
My thoughts are interrupted as I arrive at my next destination, another victim’s house. I’m not sure what I’ll find that the police haven’t, but I have to try. Maybe I can pick up his scent somehow. A plan almost assuredly doomed to failure since I lost all sense of smell in the transformation.
I’m surprised though that I can still see and hear. I suppose waves of light and sound somehow intersect with my electrical body and it senses them. I don’t question it. I’ve learned to just go with it.
On the plus side, I don’t have to worry about eating, drinking, or using the bathroom. I guess there’s an upside to everything. Elizabeth would be so proud of me.
I arrive at the room where the victim was murdered. Looking around there’s still blood everywhere, along with evidence markers where they took pictures.
The sheer amount of blood tells me he took his time. He desecrated this girl in her own room. Her parents must’ve been out because there’s no way they didn’t hear the struggle. There were books on the floor, a chair overturned, and blood everywhere. The room was a disaster. It looked like she fought him. I wish she would’ve succeeded where I had failed.
But then, I wish I hadn’t failed, and this girl was still alive.
There’s nothing I can do now except find him and end him.
Finding him was proving more difficult than I thought. I had unlimited access to anywhere with electricity, but I couldn’t use a computer or a GPS. I was limited to transportation only through electricity. Granted that still made me the fastest being alive. I say being because I don’t think I qualify as human anymore. But I was limited to traveling to a place and then trying to find out where I was and if he was there.
If he knew I was searching for him all he would have to do is live the rest of his days in a cabin in the woods with no electricity. I’d never be able to reach him.
I believe two things worked in my favor with that theory.
First, I don’t think he’s that smart, and second, I don’t think he knows I’m looking for him. I believe that surviving our fight only further empowered him to kill. When someone feels invincible, they’re bound to make a mistake.
An officer walked into the room and I ducked back into an outlet. I was able to hang on where I was and watch from inside the outlet without being transported somewhere else.
The officer looked startled and stared at the empty air that I had just vacated. She looked like she was unsure if she trusted what her eyes had seen in the instant before I vanished.
She slowly stepped over to the corner and bent down to peer into the outlet. For a moment I wondered if she could see me, and what exactly she would see. But then her radio squawked calling her to another scene. When I heard the voice on the radio say the address and that they might have the killer cornered, I didn’t waste any time.
It was maybe fifteen seconds until I was across town at the address I’d heard. There was a lot of screaming and crying going on. I came out of the outlet and saw blood on the floor beside a body that wasn’t moving.
There was a girl being beaten by a man with his back to me. He turned to take another swing and I knew my search was over.
“My psychiatrist used to tell me I needed to work on my impulse control,” he said calmly as he slapped her. “I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been here ten whole minutes and you’re still alive.”
I shot across the room and knocked him to the floor. He jumped back up and looked around for what had hit him.
“What the hell?”
I saw the fear in his eyes when he saw me. I know Elizabeth would’ve been ashamed, of me, but I was enjoying his anxiety. After all he had done to me and so many others, I drank it in like an elixir.
He started edging toward the door. I was there in a heartbeat. His eyes darted back and forth between where I used to be and where I now stood. The panic in his eyes doubled.
I wanted to make him suffer, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake I’d made before and let him escape with his life.
I lashed out with a bolt that used to be my arm. The energy slashed through his shirt and fried a hole in his shoulder.
He screamed in pain and horror as he looked at the smoking hole in his skin. He tried to run but in an instant, I was there in front of him firing another bolt and searing the skin across his waist to his jeans.
His screams of pain and rage were only matched by the feral desperation in his eyes.
Not knowing what do to, he went with the familiar. Attack the innocent. He grabbed the girl who had been crawling away from the scene.
He grabbed her again and held her in front of him like a human shield.
What a waste of skin.
I fired a bolt into a ceiling light beside me which ricocheted and hit him full force in the leg, nearly severing it.
He went down like a ton of bricks, trying to hold on to his hostage, but she was fighting to get away from him. She broke free and he crumpled to the floor.
“What do you want?” he screamed at me.
With everything that is within me, I wanted to tell him who I was, what he had taken from me, and what I was about to take from him.
But I didn’t want to give the satisfaction. I wanted to give him only uncertainty and fear to cling to.
I could feel the seconds ticking away. I knew I had to make the most of this opportunity or he would get away again. And after this, I might never find him.
I unleashed every ounce of energy at him. I couldn’t even see him, he was only a smoking pillar of frying skin.
Just then, the police burst through the door.
“FREE… “ the first officer started then the shock of what he was seeing stole the rest of the word from his mouth.
He stood there, mouth agape when the female officer stepped in behind him. She looked at me and her wide eyes narrowed as she put two and two together and recognized me from the last crime scene.
I had no reason to fear. I didn’t know if I could even be harmed in my current state. But when you see that blue uniform burst through a door with a gun aimed at you, all rational thought takes a vacation.
I dove for the outlet and was gone. I didn’t even care where I was going. I knew I had done what I wanted to. The monster was destroyed.
Something felt different. Was it pride at finishing my crusade? Was it shame knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t have wanted me to do it?
I don’t know but there was something else. It was like there was added weight to my existence. I guess you can have a conscious in whatever you’d call this existence.
I appeared in the place that made the most sense, ironically. It was my old home. The one where everything I loved died, including me. It was where I took on this unintended new existence.
Is that why I felt this extra weight? Was it some cathartic aftereffect of my search for revenge that was finally over?
I looked around the charred debris of what used to be my home. In my mind's eye, I didn’t see the burned-out shell of what was left. I saw it as it was when we first moved in. When Elizabeth and I started decorating. When the interior was finally finished and I turned to her and said, “For now.” Knowing she would decide to change everything at some time in the future when she was bored, just like all women seem to do.
I remember getting a paintbrush across the mouth for that comment. I smiled remembering kissing her with my freshly painted mouth and ending up in the bedroom.
As I turned toward where I’d entered the house, my smile quickly faded. For some reason, I was still connected to the outlet. That had never happened before.
Another curiosity arose when I noticed the color of my electrical body was now tinged purple. It had always been blue before.
The tail of what had yet to come out of the outlet was red. As I pulled and it came the rest of the way out, it merged with me and turned purple.
“What the hell?” I heard someone say.
I whipped around but no one was there.
“Where am I?” the voice said.
“Who are you?” I said to the air.
There was a long silence.
“Doc?” the voice said.
As far as I knew it wasn’t possible for my spine to turn to ice, since I no longer had a spine, but the feeling seemed the same.
“Frederick?” I said.
“What happened?” he said. “This crazy electric thing attacked me and now… wait a minute. How am I talking to you? You died months ago.”
My shock gave way to utter despair. My enemy was now part of me.
submitted by Horror_writer_1717 to DarkTales [link] [comments]
It began when I was least expecting it. But then don’t things always seem to happen that way?
***
“I’m tellin' ya, doc, people just don’t understand,” Frederick said while rocking back and forth in the chair.
“What exactly don’t they understand?” I said, trying to look more relaxed than I felt.
“There’s just something that takes over. You can’t stop it.”
“Impulse control?”
“What’s that mean?” Frederick said, struggling against his straight jacket, trying to get comfortable.
“It means that when you want to do something, you try your hardest not to. It means you try to control or suppress the urge to do things you know are bad.”
Frederick’s mouth lolled open. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Why would I want to do that?”
I suppressed the urge to sigh.
“Because that’s what people do,” I said. “They think about doing bad things, but then they control themselves and don’t do them because those things are wrong and could hurt other people.”
“Hurting people is wrong?” he said.
“Yes, Frederick, hurting people is wrong.”
He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away a fly that was annoying him.
“Why?”
“Why is hurting people wrong?”
“No, why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re saying I’m bad,” he said trying to rise from his chair. “You’re saying I didn’t need to hurt those people. That I’m a bad person.”
I got up from my chair and started backing toward the heavy metal door.
“I’m not bad!” he yelled at me. “You’re bad!”
I knocked on the door and the orderly opened it as Frederick got to his feet.
I slipped through the door as it slammed shut from the impact of his body slamming into it.
“Bad, bad, bad,” he screamed.
“Badbadbadbadbadbadbadbad!”
Spit flew from his mouth landing on the small observation window with metal grates embedded in it.
“You ok, doc,” the orderly said, startling me.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
I turned and walked down the white hallway, hoping the orderly wouldn’t notice the quickness in my step. I ignored the sound of Frederick beating on the door. I ignored all the sounds I heard. I just wanted to get away.
It was a long walk to my office, through many security gates. At each one, the nurse buzzed me through and gave me an acknowledging look that used to be a smile.
I suppose this place gets to everyone eventually.
I finally reached my office, closed and locked the door behind me, and collapsed into my chair. I breathed out a sigh of relief at reaching relative safety. I turned and looked out my window to the beautiful flowers blooming on the trees in the courtyard. I looked up at the tree stretching toward the sky.
I remember when they planted those.
I turned back to my center, my means of solace, the only thing that mattered in this cruel, unfair world. I picked up the picture of my lovely wife and smiled. She was the one who kept me sane all these years. She kept me seeing the best in people. Or at least trying. Sometimes there was no good to see—especially in my patients.
It takes a special kind of doctor to care for the mental needs of those who have done heinous things that are so bad they don’t even bother sending them to prison. They send them to me.
I’m like the dumpster for the dregs of society. Just drop them in the asylum and forget about them.
I kissed my wife and set her back on the bare desk, then turned on my computer and added notes from today’s session. There was never a recommendation for release. Once patients came here the only way they left was in a body bag. There was no curing them, only trying to make them docile until they left.
Oh, there were experiments. That was a large part of how we were funded. Companies would pay for certain tests to be done. Some might call it torture, but we called it research.
I finished typing my notes and leaned back in my seat. The diplomas and degrees stared down from their perches on the bare walls, mocking me. Demanding why I hadn’t gotten a better job.
As usual, I didn’t have an answer.
My office suddenly felt stuffy. I closed down my computer and left. Driving down the packed freeway, all I could think about was collapsing on the couch beside my lovely Elizabeth. Not telling her about my day until she dragged it out of me, then listening to her encourage me to help those who have been left in my care, because I’m the only hope they have.
Traffic was bumper to bumper and not helping my overall opinion of humanity much. Especially when a car that was swerving from lane to lane, nearly sideswiped me. It kept going on in front of me, nearly hitting several other cars.
The driver and passenger seemed to be having a disagreement about how to drive the car and it looked like it was about to come to blows.
Fortunately, they were soon out of sight, and someone else’s problem.
For the next few miles, I kept watching the side of the road waiting to see the offending car sitting in a ditch. However, they surprised me. They must’ve turned off to go terrorize some neighborhood streets with their reckless driving.
I hummed to myself, not wanting to have whatever dreck was on the radio forced on me.
When I was nearly to my exit, my phone rang. I immediately recognized the number as work. I contemplated answering it for a moment, then thought better of it. There had never been a time when work called with good news. And I was in no mood for bad news.
I hummed a little louder, trying to drown out the sound of the ring before it finally stopped.
The closer I got to home the less I thought about work and the more I thought about Elizabeth. Until I turned off at my exit, I had nearly forgotten work altogether. Maybe I would take tomorrow off and go do something with my wife. We hadn’t been out for a while. The weather had been lovely and I know she would adore a walk down by the lake.
My thoughts were interrupted when I turned down our driveway and saw a car in front of the house. It wasn’t quite in the driveway, it was sitting at an angle halfway in the front yard.
I parked my car and slowly got out. Something struck me about this car, but I hadn’t figured out what. I approached the driver’s side to have words with the person still sitting at the wheel.
“Excuse me,” I said staying a few steps back from the driver’s door.
He didn’t answer me.
“Excuse me,” I said a little louder.
Still no answer.
I tapped on the window and he ignored me.
I opened the door.
“Okay, look… “ I said.
But it was I who would do the looking. The man fell out of the car, thudding on the grass. The inside of the car was covered in blood. I looked down and the man’s throat had been cut.
“Oh my God!” I said jumping back.
I watched to see if the man was breathing, but the way his neck was bent at an unnatural angle against my yard told me everything I needed to know.
I glanced through the car but didn’t see the passenger.
It was then my eyes drifted to my front door.
It was open.
I stepped through the shrubs and up onto the porch, walking in a daze. The surrealness of the moment had yet to sink in. I was going inside to check on my wife and make sure everything was ok.
It didn’t strike me as anything more than that.
‘Oh, she just left the door open, that’s all.’
My mind kept trying to tell me that. I wanted desperately to believe it. Even though she had never been that careless during the entire time we’d been married. I had pushed aside all reason and common sense in favor of pure denial.
Everything was going to be ok. With Elizabeth, everything was always ok. She could literally light up a room with her positivity. She was the best person I ever knew. I have no idea how I got so lucky as to know her, let alone be her husband.
I floated in through my front door on my cloud of denial and looked for my wife.
It didn’t take me long to find her.
There was one wall of the living room she was constantly redecorating. She always said it looked bare and empty no matter what she did with it.
She was hanging from that wall, naked, her beautiful body desecrated by slices and rips. Her throat had been slit and blood still poured from it.
I ran to her.
Tried to take her down.
Screamed her name.
And then it was my turn to scream.
I looked down and saw a knife blade sticking out from my abdomen. It was part of the cutlery set I had gotten for Elizabeth three Christmases ago.
I screamed as I slowly turned to face my attacker.
“What’s up, doc?” Frederick said wearing a maniacal grin.
The shock had punched a hole in my reasoning. I saw him standing there, but I couldn’t accept it any more than I could accept my beautiful wife strung up like a macabre painting hanging on our living room wall.
My eyes tried to focus on his face. To make me recognize him as a threat.
“How’s that impulse control workin’ for ya, doc?”
He ripped the knife out of my back.
The pain, along with his arrogance woke me from my shock-induced stupor.
“Now do you understand?” he said, as he shoved the knife into my belly.
I did understand. I understood at that moment that I was already as dead as my wife. I knew that this piece of human garbage had taken something beautiful from this world. I knew I had to do something about it before there was nothing I could do. Before my body succumbed to injuries and I was unable.
I grabbed him by the throat. He tried to laugh, but my grip was fueled by desperation.
He tried to free himself but couldn’t. He began stabbing me over and over. I refused to release him. I carried him by his neck over to the kitchen counter and began bashing his head off the marble.
I was rewarded with spots of his blood. I knew at least I had made him bleed and that made me smile. His eyes grew wide as my grin grew maniacal. I smashed him repeatedly, crushing him against the sink, breaking the faucet, and causing water to spray into the air.
His eyelids fluttered as he lost his grip on the knife.
He was nearly gone. I would take him with me and that would be my parting gift to the world, removing something so evil.
Suddenly, my body wouldn’t obey commands. My grip loosened. I tried to tighten it, but I had lost all control. I looked down and I was standing in a pool of my own blood.
His eyes fluttered open and he coughed.
‘Nonononononono!’ I thought. ‘He can’t live. He can’t win. I had him.’
He stood as I sank to the floor.
“Looks like maybe you do understand, doc,” he said from what seemed like miles away. “Too bad you won’t be around to discuss it. We could have a session and evaluate how it makes you feel.”
His foot came down on my spine. I felt a crack. He started kicking me in the side repeatedly. Splashing water and blood on me as I felt my ribs crack.
I fought with everything I had.
My body didn’t even twitch.
‘Nooooo!,’ I screamed. ‘It can’t end like this.’
I heard a sizzling sound and then there was darkness.
***
I could feel movement.
Wasn’t I dead?
Was this what happened after?
It was still dark.
‘Hello?’ I tried to say.
Nothing. Just the sensation of movement.
Am I in a body bag? Am I on my way to the morgue or the grave? Please don’t let me be buried alive.
But I’m not alive, am I?
I don’t feel any pain. That’s a good thing, but not a good sign. The last thing I remember was lots of pain.
Suddenly there’s light and my movement stops.
I look up from the floor of a house I don’t recognize.
‘Where the hell am I?’
I’m on the floor next to a wall, looking up at an electrical outlet. Nothing around me seems familiar. I try to stand but it feels weird. It isn’t difficult, and there’s still no pain, it just carries an odd sensation with it. Like my body is just relearning things. Just like when I was a toddler. I teeter back and forth as I rise, but eventually, I’m upright.
My first few steps are tentative, but after that, I gain confidence with each stride.
Aside from the strange surroundings, there’s a sensation, like ants crawling all over me.
I pass a bathroom and glance inside. The reflection in the mirror draws me back. I slowly approach it, seeing something unique and terrifying.
It looks like someone drew an outline of a human form using a lightning bolt. The electricity shimmers and crackles as it races around the empty form of the being.
I wonder if it will hurt me.
Not sure if I want to test the limits of my newfound lack of pain, I hesitantly reach for this creature. It reaches for me at the same time. I’m mesmerized by this mutual curiosity.
My hand is about to touch the electric pulse shaped like its hand. I tremble with anticipation and fear as we touch.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel anything except a hard surface.
I move my hand back and forth. The creature does the same. I make quicker movements, and so does it.
Finally, out of frustration, I reach back and strike at the creature.
My hand strikes the hard surface and it splinters. There are now multiple creatures staring back at me.
I step back and come to the horrible realization.
I am the creature.
***
One month later…
“And police have been unable to find any credible leads in the string of brutal killings that began shortly after the patient escaped from the mental hospital last month,” the handsome anchorman stated from behind his desk. “They are asking people to call in if they know the whereabouts of Frederick Winston, now known as, ‘The Mangler’.”
“In other news, the Larsan Electric Company has issued a statement that the recent power surges are no cause for alarm. These surges seem to be random in people's homes and certain businesses. An LEC spokesman stated that there appears to be no pattern to the surges and that so far no one has reported them causing any harm. LEC is tracking down the problem and should have it under control soon.”
The anchorman shifted in his seat and turned to another camera.
“And on a lighter note, with Halloween months away, it seems that reports of ghosts are on the rise,” he said, wearing a half grin. “Several area residents have reported what they call a ghostlike figure, outlined in light, visiting them. Reports vary as to the duration and location of the visits, but they do seem to have a few things in common. The visits are usually short. In fact, most people say that if they blink the figure is gone. No one has reported the ghost doing any harm. And it seems like anyone within close proximity feels a tingling sensation and their hair standing on end.”
“Maybe I should be visited instead of my next hairdresser’s appointment,” the attractive woman anchor said with a laugh.
“Schedule me a visit too,” the male anchor said smiling. “And that’s our news for the evening, good night.”
Jimmy switched the channel.
“Gimme a break,” he said to the TV. “Ghosts? Who’s playing what? This’s some marketing scheme to sell Halloween crap. Like that stunt they pulled a few years back with the clowns hanging around the schools to promote that stupid movie.”
He switched off the TV and rolled over in his bed.
It wasn’t long before his breathing slowed. But before sleep could take him, he noticed a glow in the hallway. He didn’t remember leaving any lights on when he came to bed. Living alone had its advantages. If he heard someone in his apartment, he knew they weren’t supposed to be there. He slowly reached over to the bedstand and pulled out his Glock 9mm handgun, then held it close and listened.
He watched as the glow moved. It seemed like someone was looking around. But for what? He didn’t really have anything aside from his TV, phone, and video games. If anyone wanted those, they would be in a world of hurt. He had been lucky to get this apartment. If he was honest with himself, it cost more than he could afford, but when he had the chance he took it. It was too bad the opening came because the person who lived there before him was one of The Mangler’s victims. That’s probably why he was able to rent the place so quickly and get the price down to where he could almost afford it.
Maybe the glow was one of the street people who were stupid enough to see if there was an empty apartment to claim. That wasn’t gonna fly either. Jimmy had jumped on this apartment to get away from the dingy rat hole he used live in on the other side of town. And there was no way he’d let some bum come in here and take what was his.
The glow crept closer. He could feel the hairs on his arms raise. There was a sound too. It wasn’t loud, almost felt more than heard. A soft crackle, like electricity when it sparked.
The sensory input was almost too much for Jimmy to take. He pointed the gun in the direction of the glow and saw the barrel was shaking. His resolve, that he could deal with anyone as long as he had his gun, was beginning to fade.
The glow became so bright that it finally took form.
Jimmy’s eyes widened. It was the form of a person, just like the news had said.
It seemed to look around the room, then settle its gaze on the bed. Jimmy began to sweat as it approached and stared into his eyes.
It was the oddest thing, staring into what should be eyes, but nothing was there. The flashes of mini lightning bolts formed shapes that looked almost human, but it was just an outline, there was nothing inside what should be the body.
He shoved the shaking gun out from under the blanket and pointed it at the glowing figure.
The figure noted the presence of the gun, then continued to advance.
“S… stop,” Jimmy said. “I’m w… warning you.”
The figure ignored the warning.
Jimmy squeezed the trigger, setting off a deafening shot that went right through the face of the figure.
It acted as though nothing had happened, continuing to advance. The ringing in Jimmy’s ears made all sound seem muffled.
The figure stopped two inches from Jimmy’s face.
“Mangler… “ it said, sounding less like a voice and more like a transmission over an old staticky radio.
“I… I’m not the Mangler,” he said. “The person who used to live here was killed by him.”
It seemed to ponder this for a moment.
“Find Mangler… “ it said.
“I d… don’t know where to find him.”
It moved an inch closer. As the flashes of electricity arced, licked hungrily at Jimmy’s face.
“Find… him… “
“Ok, ok, I’ll find him,” Jimmy said, feeling the heat from the electricity.
The figure seemed to consider that for a moment then backed away. It moved toward the bedroom wall. Then, like someone had turned on a vacuum, it was sucked into an electrical outlet and disappeared.
Jimmy laid back in bed, breathing hard. His eyes darted left and right all around the room. But the only evidence of the figure that remained was the bullet hole in his bedroom wall.
***
The trips through the electrical conduits had become easier. There were still times when I came out someplace I didn’t intend to, but I was usually able to recover quickly and get to where I wanted to go.
But where did I want to go? At first, I wandered around, lost in this new form I found myself trapped inside. It was only after I had overheard a news report about the serial killer they called The Mangler that I gained my purpose.
Of course, Frederick was going to keep killing. Of course, they weren’t going to be able to catch him. He’d been inside away from his victims before and he didn’t like it. Not being able to torture and kill innocents was like a normal person not being able to breathe. Not that I know much about normal or breathing anymore.
I suppose on some level I should thank him. I thought about it for a long time and the only thing that makes any kind of sense is when we were fighting, somehow the water and blood I was laying in got splashed into the electrical socket. Instead of killing me, it bonded with me, making me able to become the electrical current. To ride it like a wave to wherever I wanted.
I became faster than any person ever was. And yet, I wasn’t a person anymore. I have no idea how I retained my consciousness, let alone my memory. But somehow…
I justify it by the old adage, ‘I think therefore I am.’
My life has become an endless hunt for the person who destroyed me, the person I must destroy. I don’t even know what I’ll do when I find him. But I will find him. I will stop him. This time, I won’t fail. I’ll end him like I should’ve before.
I owe it to the people he’s tortured and killed since my failure. Most of all, I owe it to my wife. I know she wouldn’t approve of my bloodlust. She would say there must be some other option. But if she would be able to see her dead body hanging naked from our living room wall, I think she just might change her mind.
My thoughts are interrupted as I arrive at my next destination, another victim’s house. I’m not sure what I’ll find that the police haven’t, but I have to try. Maybe I can pick up his scent somehow. A plan almost assuredly doomed to failure since I lost all sense of smell in the transformation.
I’m surprised though that I can still see and hear. I suppose waves of light and sound somehow intersect with my electrical body and it senses them. I don’t question it. I’ve learned to just go with it.
On the plus side, I don’t have to worry about eating, drinking, or using the bathroom. I guess there’s an upside to everything. Elizabeth would be so proud of me.
I arrive at the room where the victim was murdered. Looking around there’s still blood everywhere, along with evidence markers where they took pictures.
The sheer amount of blood tells me he took his time. He desecrated this girl in her own room. Her parents must’ve been out because there’s no way they didn’t hear the struggle. There were books on the floor, a chair overturned, and blood everywhere. The room was a disaster. It looked like she fought him. I wish she would’ve succeeded where I had failed.
But then, I wish I hadn’t failed, and this girl was still alive.
There’s nothing I can do now except find him and end him.
Finding him was proving more difficult than I thought. I had unlimited access to anywhere with electricity, but I couldn’t use a computer or a GPS. I was limited to transportation only through electricity. Granted that still made me the fastest being alive. I say being because I don’t think I qualify as human anymore. But I was limited to traveling to a place and then trying to find out where I was and if he was there.
If he knew I was searching for him all he would have to do is live the rest of his days in a cabin in the woods with no electricity. I’d never be able to reach him.
I believe two things worked in my favor with that theory.
First, I don’t think he’s that smart, and second, I don’t think he knows I’m looking for him. I believe that surviving our fight only further empowered him to kill. When someone feels invincible, they’re bound to make a mistake.
An officer walked into the room and I ducked back into an outlet. I was able to hang on where I was and watch from inside the outlet without being transported somewhere else.
The officer looked startled and stared at the empty air that I had just vacated. She looked like she was unsure if she trusted what her eyes had seen in the instant before I vanished.
She slowly stepped over to the corner and bent down to peer into the outlet. For a moment I wondered if she could see me, and what exactly she would see. But then her radio squawked calling her to another scene. When I heard the voice on the radio say the address and that they might have the killer cornered, I didn’t waste any time.
It was maybe fifteen seconds until I was across town at the address I’d heard. There was a lot of screaming and crying going on. I came out of the outlet and saw blood on the floor beside a body that wasn’t moving.
There was a girl being beaten by a man with his back to me. He turned to take another swing and I knew my search was over.
“My psychiatrist used to tell me I needed to work on my impulse control,” he said calmly as he slapped her. “I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ve been here ten whole minutes and you’re still alive.”
I shot across the room and knocked him to the floor. He jumped back up and looked around for what had hit him.
“What the hell?”
I saw the fear in his eyes when he saw me. I know Elizabeth would’ve been ashamed, of me, but I was enjoying his anxiety. After all he had done to me and so many others, I drank it in like an elixir.
He started edging toward the door. I was there in a heartbeat. His eyes darted back and forth between where I used to be and where I now stood. The panic in his eyes doubled.
I wanted to make him suffer, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake I’d made before and let him escape with his life.
I lashed out with a bolt that used to be my arm. The energy slashed through his shirt and fried a hole in his shoulder.
He screamed in pain and horror as he looked at the smoking hole in his skin. He tried to run but in an instant, I was there in front of him firing another bolt and searing the skin across his waist to his jeans.
His screams of pain and rage were only matched by the feral desperation in his eyes.
Not knowing what do to, he went with the familiar. Attack the innocent. He grabbed the girl who had been crawling away from the scene.
He grabbed her again and held her in front of him like a human shield.
What a waste of skin.
I fired a bolt into a ceiling light beside me which ricocheted and hit him full force in the leg, nearly severing it.
He went down like a ton of bricks, trying to hold on to his hostage, but she was fighting to get away from him. She broke free and he crumpled to the floor.
“What do you want?” he screamed at me.
With everything that is within me, I wanted to tell him who I was, what he had taken from me, and what I was about to take from him.
But I didn’t want to give the satisfaction. I wanted to give him only uncertainty and fear to cling to.
I could feel the seconds ticking away. I knew I had to make the most of this opportunity or he would get away again. And after this, I might never find him.
I unleashed every ounce of energy at him. I couldn’t even see him, he was only a smoking pillar of frying skin.
Just then, the police burst through the door.
“FREE… “ the first officer started then the shock of what he was seeing stole the rest of the word from his mouth.
He stood there, mouth agape when the female officer stepped in behind him. She looked at me and her wide eyes narrowed as she put two and two together and recognized me from the last crime scene.
I had no reason to fear. I didn’t know if I could even be harmed in my current state. But when you see that blue uniform burst through a door with a gun aimed at you, all rational thought takes a vacation.
I dove for the outlet and was gone. I didn’t even care where I was going. I knew I had done what I wanted to. The monster was destroyed.
Something felt different. Was it pride at finishing my crusade? Was it shame knowing Elizabeth wouldn’t have wanted me to do it?
I don’t know but there was something else. It was like there was added weight to my existence. I guess you can have a conscious in whatever you’d call this existence.
I appeared in the place that made the most sense, ironically. It was my old home. The one where everything I loved died, including me. It was where I took on this unintended new existence.
Is that why I felt this extra weight? Was it some cathartic aftereffect of my search for revenge that was finally over?
I looked around the charred debris of what used to be my home. In my mind's eye, I didn’t see the burned-out shell of what was left. I saw it as it was when we first moved in. When Elizabeth and I started decorating. When the interior was finally finished and I turned to her and said, “For now.” Knowing she would decide to change everything at some time in the future when she was bored, just like all women seem to do.
I remember getting a paintbrush across the mouth for that comment. I smiled remembering kissing her with my freshly painted mouth and ending up in the bedroom.
As I turned toward where I’d entered the house, my smile quickly faded. For some reason, I was still connected to the outlet. That had never happened before.
Another curiosity arose when I noticed the color of my electrical body was now tinged purple. It had always been blue before.
The tail of what had yet to come out of the outlet was red. As I pulled and it came the rest of the way out, it merged with me and turned purple.
“What the hell?” I heard someone say.
I whipped around but no one was there.
“Where am I?” the voice said.
“Who are you?” I said to the air.
There was a long silence.
“Doc?” the voice said.
As far as I knew it wasn’t possible for my spine to turn to ice, since I no longer had a spine, but the feeling seemed the same.
“Frederick?” I said.
“What happened?” he said. “This crazy electric thing attacked me and now… wait a minute. How am I talking to you? You died months ago.”
My shock gave way to utter despair. My enemy was now part of me.
2023.03.22 13:45 FieryLoins Getting the recipe right this time
I'm 32, I've been habitually using marijuana for the best part of 15 years, and have been pretty much high all the time for the last 8. The guilt and shame of what I was doing to my relationships, my mental health, and my lung health, would constantly push me to 'quit', but it never stuck and I'd always find myself back in the same binge-cycle rut. Depression and frustration were constantly there, any I felt utterly trapped by the pathways I'd apparently burned into my brain.
I'm now two weeks sober, and feeling like this time it's for real. I've gone from feeling like I 'have to do everything', forcing my way through the daily tasks with weed being my only release (and a false one at that), to being motivated and 'wanting' to tackle the objectives I set out for myself.
The main change - and what I'm wanting to share by writing this post - is that I've started to do a number of things differently, that have really helped re-shape my approach to life.
1 - Having frank and honest conversations with my wife about what I'm going through. Now she is able to support me and give my the understanding and space that I need to take care of myself. This isn't a battle I could handle on my own.
2 - Exercise. This is a massive help. The accomplishment and satisfaction that I get from doing lengths in the pool, hitting the weights, or going for a run, is a fantastic replacement for getting high. Knowing I'm creating these endorphins in a way that is positive for my body is incredible. Self care is critical, and the more I do, the more I want to keep that train going.
3 - Therapy. I've been talking to a professional therapist once a week for 6 weeks. I cannot emphasize enough the macro and micro benefit this is having on my life. It's giving me the compassion for myself to admit that I'm suffering, the time to reflect on why, and the tools to have conversations with people in my life that can result in positive outcomes. I used to be afraid of the stigma of therapy and almost felt like it was an admission it weakness. This was bullshit. Best decision I've made on this journey so far.
The combination of the above factors has meant that instead of deciding to stop cold turkey, and then fighting that rational decision with my emotional core every time a craving comes up, I'm able to sit with the suffering, without wanting to put the bandaid of sparking up on. This allows the wounds beneath to heal, and its genuinely allowing me to recover from my addiction.
That's not to say it's been easy - the weekends are the hardest because I have nothing to distract myself with. I would normally get high to relaxe, and now I have to learn how to relaxe in other healthier ways. I've cried lots, I've physically hit myself in desperate frustration from experiencing the lows of not being able to escape the stress and misery of not getting high. But it passes, and I didn't want to smoke, because deep down I know I don't actually want to. And because I have love, compassion, and forgiveness for myself. Hiding from the emotion isn't helping.
The depression and anger is turning into frustration with the way I've set things in my life up. This frustration is healthy, because it becomes the impetus for positive change. I'm no longer just using the drug to alleviate my suffering. I'm solving the issues that are causing it.
I know I've got a long life ahead of me, and this will always be a temptation and part of who I am. But the last few weeks I'm finally able to believe that I will be better without the substance.
I just wanted to share, as I'm sure lots of you are going through the same struggles. Don't beat yourself up about being beholden to the drug. Start fixing the underlying issues, and then it becomes possible to heal. Self hatred and shame are a recipe for relapse, and even escalation.
Stay strong and stay healthy out there guys and girls! Mad love and respect for all of you. Life is hard, but it's the only one we've got, so let's make the best of it 💪
submitted by FieryLoins to leaves [link] [comments]
I'm now two weeks sober, and feeling like this time it's for real. I've gone from feeling like I 'have to do everything', forcing my way through the daily tasks with weed being my only release (and a false one at that), to being motivated and 'wanting' to tackle the objectives I set out for myself.
The main change - and what I'm wanting to share by writing this post - is that I've started to do a number of things differently, that have really helped re-shape my approach to life.
1 - Having frank and honest conversations with my wife about what I'm going through. Now she is able to support me and give my the understanding and space that I need to take care of myself. This isn't a battle I could handle on my own.
2 - Exercise. This is a massive help. The accomplishment and satisfaction that I get from doing lengths in the pool, hitting the weights, or going for a run, is a fantastic replacement for getting high. Knowing I'm creating these endorphins in a way that is positive for my body is incredible. Self care is critical, and the more I do, the more I want to keep that train going.
3 - Therapy. I've been talking to a professional therapist once a week for 6 weeks. I cannot emphasize enough the macro and micro benefit this is having on my life. It's giving me the compassion for myself to admit that I'm suffering, the time to reflect on why, and the tools to have conversations with people in my life that can result in positive outcomes. I used to be afraid of the stigma of therapy and almost felt like it was an admission it weakness. This was bullshit. Best decision I've made on this journey so far.
The combination of the above factors has meant that instead of deciding to stop cold turkey, and then fighting that rational decision with my emotional core every time a craving comes up, I'm able to sit with the suffering, without wanting to put the bandaid of sparking up on. This allows the wounds beneath to heal, and its genuinely allowing me to recover from my addiction.
That's not to say it's been easy - the weekends are the hardest because I have nothing to distract myself with. I would normally get high to relaxe, and now I have to learn how to relaxe in other healthier ways. I've cried lots, I've physically hit myself in desperate frustration from experiencing the lows of not being able to escape the stress and misery of not getting high. But it passes, and I didn't want to smoke, because deep down I know I don't actually want to. And because I have love, compassion, and forgiveness for myself. Hiding from the emotion isn't helping.
The depression and anger is turning into frustration with the way I've set things in my life up. This frustration is healthy, because it becomes the impetus for positive change. I'm no longer just using the drug to alleviate my suffering. I'm solving the issues that are causing it.
I know I've got a long life ahead of me, and this will always be a temptation and part of who I am. But the last few weeks I'm finally able to believe that I will be better without the substance.
I just wanted to share, as I'm sure lots of you are going through the same struggles. Don't beat yourself up about being beholden to the drug. Start fixing the underlying issues, and then it becomes possible to heal. Self hatred and shame are a recipe for relapse, and even escalation.
Stay strong and stay healthy out there guys and girls! Mad love and respect for all of you. Life is hard, but it's the only one we've got, so let's make the best of it 💪
2023.03.22 13:40 Buyyours Inspection Checklist For Heavy Equipment Before and After Operation
 | What are the heavy equipment inspection checklist before and after operation? Operators of construction machines have a huge impact on their personal safety and the safety of everyone else on the job site, as well as the maintenance costs and life of the machines they employ. All of this strength stems from the ability to conduct quick but thorough heavy equipment inspections both before and after operations. submitted by Buyyours to equipmentbuyandsell [link] [comments] These checks are essential for worker safety near machinery and are an important component of preventive maintenance. Before and after getting into any taxi, operators should glance at and for the items listed below. Of course, some heavy equipment has unique parts, functionality, or other variables that demand specialist inspection regions; for specific instructions and recommendations, see the machine’s operator’s manual. It should also go without saying that equipment that show signs of damage or have any other issues should not be used until the situation is fully resolved. Nonetheless, we stated it. Because it is crucial. https://preview.redd.it/ejdmqqyycapa1.png?width=980&format=png&auto=webp&s=b317b18d0f866ead83bf34a824d2594bdbce89d7 Checklist for Heavy Equipment Inspections
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2023.03.22 13:05 mediamusing ☣️ Don't let Them touch You ☣️
I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X
*
Thanks for reading! If you want more from this universe check out The X and Wye Anthology Series
-- Jack
*
submitted by mediamusing to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X
*
Thanks for reading! If you want more from this universe check out The X and Wye Anthology Series
-- Jack
*
2023.03.22 12:45 CitizenSnips4 Digital Daily #10 Written Summary — March 20th [Week 2 POV Ceremony Spoilers]
This is a summary of Digital Daily #10 (March 20th). Detailed are events that happen after the POV ceremony.
Pre-Digital Daily: Zach used the POV on Hope. Dan named Roberto as the replacement nominee. Final noms are Renee and Roberto. Vanessa and Zach got into a shouting match in front of everyone.
TL;DR:
Zach and Ty’s plan to backdoor Roberto is all going to plan. Or is it? Digital Daily #10 kicks off in the Circle K room, where Ty and Jonathan talk after a game-changing veto ceremony: Jonathan is disappointed that Ty/Zach have gone against their former ally Roberto; Ty then explains his reasoning; Jonathan warns Ty to watch his back with Zach. Later, Roberto and Jonathan check in with each other on their campaign to save Roberto. In the bedroom, Zach corners Daniel to find out what he knows about Roberto efforts to flip the vote and save himself. Later, Roberto campaigns to Daniel/Kuzie/Anika, saying if he stays, he will be after one person: Zach. After Roberto and Daniel leave, Zach enters to question Anika/Kuzie about Roberto’s pitch. Once Zach leaves, Anika/Kuzie weigh the options of evicting Roberto or Renee. In the kitchen, Zach and Roberto have a tense conversation where Zach avoids any accountability for his part in the backdoor plan this week; Shanaya’s romantic ultimatum was seemingly used by Zach to hurt Roberto’s game; Roberto makes it clear that his campaign will include letting people know that Zach has too much influence in the house. Back in the bedroom, Jonathan approaches Anika/Kuzie for their support. He says all the right things: after he leaves, they excitedly decide to keep Roberto and make a stand against Zach.
Going into detail…
0:00:07 - Circle K - Jonathan & Ty One-on-One
Ty and Jonathan talk. Ty: “I liked JM the last few days we got to know him, but— the game.” (They have been talking about the rift in their alliance, Ty/Zach vs Roberto/Jonathan). Ty: “i don’t wear my emotions on my face, but I do feel everything. This situation is tough for me too. I f—k with Rob. Heavy. It was me/you/him at the start. But then things get brought up and you have to reevaluate: is this game I need to play or no?” Ty says he has been hearing things Roberto has said and cross referencing them. Ty says he just confronted Zach about what Roberto said to him, in front of Roberto. Ty: “I’m not playing the whole broken telephone thing. If someone says something about me? Then stand in front of the person you said said it, so I can see who’s lying.” Jonathan: “I thought we were all boys...” Jonathan nervously gets it out that Zach is playing dirty. Jonathan: “bro watch your ass. There’s two people in this house who I believe deserve to win— you’re one of them.” Ty thanks him. Ty says “this is what I told Rob in the bathroom:” Ty’s immediate reaction is to save Roberto, but he has to reevaluate how pulling Roberto off the block would affect him; Ty likes Renee and is trying to keep the “flamingos” (pink bedroom) together, but he doesn’t feel like Renee was reciprocating that; however, Ty didn’t close the door on Renee. Ty: “so that’s what I have to take into consideration.” Ty pulls a Santina: “do I risk the rest of my game by saving someone that’s clearly the target this week, and now I’m fighting against the rest of the house for the rest of my time here? Or do I just make the easy decision and go with what’s going on.” Jonathan: “..it’s tough bro.” Ty apologizes to Jonathan for pulling Claudia away from him. Jonathan: “I love that though” (that Ty/Claudia are together). Ty says when he is with Claudia, it’s just relaxing; with everyone else, it’s stressful. Jonathan, switching subjects to Zach: “just don’t believe everything you hear bro, especially if it’s from the same source.” Ty finishes his retelling of his convo with Roberto: he told Roberto that however this week plays out, Ty is watching him. Jonathan adds that Roberto has been trying to spread his paranoia to him. Then Jonathan says “but I’m just telling you, watch your ass, because your his (Zach’s) comp beast and he knows that.” Ty: “yeah.” Jonathan: “if I go next week, so be it.” Ty: “you’re not going anywhere, I’m telling you right now.” Jonathan clarifies that the info that put Roberto/Jonathan in this situation came from the “exact same source.” Jonathan says he is an experienced 33-year old man; “so I’m in here and I see this guy that’s gonna try to manipulate me? And everything around me? Trying to pull strings? There ain’t no f—king strings on me.” Jonathan says if he makes any moves he’s afraid Zach will get wind of it and make up lies about him like he did Roberto. Jonathan: “I won’t make up lies. If that sends me out of the house, so be it.” Ty: “you do what you gotta do Johnny, that’s all I gotta say.” Jonathan reels it in and apologizes but “it’s just talk between bros”. Jonathan appeals to Ty’s interest in Claudia by saying “me and Claudia are very similar in a lot of ways. She’s my girl, my sis. So I’m just kinda like, venting.” Ty: “you just gotta make sure that you don’t take decisions personally, when they are made for the game. Because some people are playing the game while you’re playing with your heart.” Jonathan: “that’s why I’m ready to go home.” He says his family is waiting at home. Jonathan: “I made it here.” Ty: “you made it here. But I wanna see you go farther.” Jonathan brings it back to Zach: “he said to me ‘you’re gonna do this this and this. I’m gonna let you do this.’ And I’m like, why would I do that? ‘Because I said so’” Jonathan says Zach backtracks on his statement that he didn’t make any decisions this week. Jonathan: “I’m just trying to keep my distance.” Ty advises that Jonathan make his presence in this house felt; “talk to who you want to talk to.” They wrap up their conversation and shake hands. Ty: “I wanna see you go far in this competition.” Jonathan: “likewise, and take care of my sis. But if you’re sleeping in the same bed, we’re gonna have an issue.” They laugh. As Ty leaves through the door: “I’ll ask your permission.” Jonathan laughs.
0:11:11 - Kitchen - Kitchen Stuff
In the kitchen, Santina makes garlic bread. Roberto and Anika are in the room. Roberto jokes around with Santina, but leaves soon after.
0:14:13 - Circle K - Roberto & Jonathan Check In
Roberto joins Jonathan in the Circle K room. Jonathan ask how the “tea” is. Roberto: “I think we got Hope (his vote).” Jonathan: “oh good because I put in work too with Hope.” Roberto: “Vanessa said that she has Kuzie and Daniel C.” Jonathan makes an unsure face. Roberto: “I know I’m on the block and it’s inevitable… I’m probably less anxious than I have been because I know I just have to get up and go to work to stay.” Roberto jokes with viewers: “for people out there suffering from paranoia, like I am, there are ways you can get help.” Jonathan reads from his tea can: “like it says on the can, man: we’re ‘the ones that never shy away from being themselves, and what you see is what you get— always’… I love that actually.” Roberto laughs in agreement: “that’s what I’m gonna say in my speech.” This reminds Roberto to ask Jonathan for help rehearsing his speech. Robert asks if Renee has approached him about the vote. Jonathan: “I pretty much told her where my vote is at, and she completely respected it.” Roberto: “is she moving around to people campaigning?” Jonathan: “not that I know of.” They talk about how Renee had a suspicion that Roberto was going to be on the block. Jonathan: “so uh. I’m telling you. Don’t underestimate the sneakiness of this guy (Zach).” Jonathan talks a bit about his conversation with Ty, but the focus is on how sneaky Zach is. Roberto apologizes to JM at home. They talk about Hope. Jonathan: “he’s one of us. He’s loyal.” Roberto says he is going to pull a Godfre BBCAN3; people are going to know who his targets are by the end of this week. Roberto gives his last wishes if he get evicted: “please get that guy (Zach) out.” Jonathan wonders why everyone is so afraid of Zach. Roberto says it’s because “if I follow the crowd, they won’t see me!” Jonathan: “should I blow it up? Yell at him in front of a crowd? Call him out? Would that put the fear in him? I feel like he really does fear me.” They hope viewers see how Zach is. Jonathan says they have 2 days of hard campaigning to do; they can do this.
0:25:21 - Purple Bedroom - Zach Corners Daniel for Information
Zach works Daniel for information. Convo begins because Daniel embarrassed Zach or something in front of Kuzie and Anika. Zach worries that Vanessa is going to self evict to keep Roberto in the game. Daniel: “I’m not gonna keep Rob in the game.” Zach says that Roberto has been going around to the girls trying to get them against the guys. Daniel: “he’s talked to me, too.” Zach: “see?” Zach says Roberto caused it himself. Zach: “and then that blowup!” Daniel: “they’re gonna try their hardest to flip that vote. Telling you right now.” Zach: “who is?” Daniel: “Roberto and whoever wants to flip the vote.” Zach: “here’s what you need to do for me: find out who he’s working with to flip it. There’s one name in particular that I wanna know, but find out.” Daniel: “Santina.” Zach laughs and Daniel rolls his eyes because it was obvious. Daniel: “I’m not an idiot.” Zach: “do you think she’s going to?” Daniel says he hasn’t talked to her yet. Daniel says he wanted to work with Santina but after their first talk week 1, Santina never gave Daniel the opportunity to speak game ever again. Zach says he trusts Santina and is working with her, but this Roberto situation… Zach asks about Santina wanting to speak with Daniel later. Daniel doesn’t know if it’s about flipping the house or anything. Daniel says they are missing the “prayer thing” at the dinner table. They leave to eat.
0:31:25 - Dining Table - Dinner Time
Everyone eats at the table. Anika says she’s awkward with kids; she doesn’t know what to do with them or talk about with them. Everyone laughs. Eating and random chatter continues.
0:39:23 - Library - Hope’s Age
Zach and Hope play pool. Anika sits in the room with them. Anika asks how old Hope is. Hope reveals: “I’m 27 turning 28 next year.” Roberto comes in after a while and thanks Anika for making dinner. Roberto lets the group know that a hot tub thing is happening soon. Roberto leaves and the pool game continues.
0:45:42 - Purple Bedroom - Roberto Campaigns to Daniel/Kuzie/Anika
Daniel/Kuzie/Roberto sit in the bedroom. Daniel says he wants to go to the hot tub thing. Kuzie asks Roberto how he’s doing. Roberto: “other than being completely blindsided, good.” Kuzie: “completely?” Daniel: “you didn’t know before?” Roberto says he knew it was in the works; that rumors and lies were being told about him. Kuzie and Daniel ask what the rumors are. Roberto: “Jonathan was told to distance himself from me; Hope was told I was going to vote him out.” Anika enters the room. Daniel tells Roberto to just take it with a grain of salt. Kuzie asks why Roberto isn’t asking the source directly. Roberto: “I don’t need to.” Kuzie: “because if something is a blatant lie, wouldn’t you want to say ‘this is a blatant lie’?” Roberto says it’s too many lies. Kuzie asks how Roberto will prove the lies are untrue. Roberto says he hopes his allies will just believe him. Roberto asks them to keep their eyes open to who’s talking to them and why. They apologize to Roberto that he’s in this position. Roberto says he will have one-on-ones with them later to talk deeper. He opens the conversation up to Anika who’s sitting a few beds over. Roberto says if there are specific attacks against him, please consider the source and keep in mind his true character. Roberto says he talked to Dan and told him he was disappointed and that it wasn’t him (Dan) talking when he made the replacement nominee speech. Daniel: “did he agree to that?” Roberto: “he said it was a group of people that came to him to say that I was causing drama.” Daniel: “but he didn’t say who.” Roberto: “like his whole game. But we’re not stupid, we can see who that group is.” They agree. Roberto says he is being transparent with them: if he stays this week, he is after one person. Zach walks into the bedroom. The group starts talking about the hot tub. Zach stands and observes their conversation and behavior with crossed arms.
0:58:26 - Purple Bedroom - Hot Tub, Anyone?
Roberto has left the room, leaving Zach/Daniel/Kuzie/Anika. Daniel tries to get Kuzie to go with him to the hot tub. Anika says no, Anika/Kuzie are gonna spend time together. Renee walks in to get more people for the hot tub. Nobody but Daniel wants to go. Renee: “okay so we’re down to 3.” Dan being the third. Renee leaves to go see if Roberto is getting in. Daniel: “I’m not going in the hot tub with just Renee and Dan.” Anika asks why not. Daniel says because Renee will get out ASAP and then it will just be him and Daniel. Renee walks in and tells Zach to explain to the rest of the house why he isn’t going in the hot tub. Zach caves and goes to the hot tub with Daniel. Anika gets in Kuzie’s bed, they get cozy and prepare to gossip.
1:03:14 - Purple Bedroom - Claudia’s Thoughts
Claudia enters and says she came to get some comfy clothes. Claudia: “I feel like it’s gonna be a long two days.” Kuzie: “there’s a lot to consider.” Claudia laughs and says Daniel said “can we just go in the hot tub tonight? (No campaigning)”. Claudia: “no, but I would be the same way if I was on the block.” Kuzie questions which one of the nominees is the lesser evil. Anika asks how Claudia feels about it. Claudia: “obviously I’m close with Renee and I don’t want to see her go. It sucks to see Rob up there.. yea I think if Rob stays in this game, I think he’s gonna go after… certain people (obviously Ty)? Which is good for our girls numbers; it’s just a lot to think about it. But if I’m being honest I can’t see myself going into the DR and voting out Renee. Hope walks in and the conversation dies down.
1:06:45 - Purple Bedroom - Hope’s Not-So-Subtle Message for Kuzie
Hope walks over to Kuzie and Anika: “Hey Kuzie. Jonathan told me you need to talk to him.” Kuzie: “see? That. You can’t say that” (Apparently Kuzie has talked to Hope before about saying game related things so casually). Hope: “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know it was game talk.” Kuzie: “even if it isn’t, it will seem like it is.” They agree to talk later. Zach comes back to borrow Hope’s shorts.
1:08:24 - Pink Bedroom - Beginning of Ty/Roberto Convo
Ty tells Roberto he talked to Jonathan, and he’s gonna play with his heart. Roberto: “I know that Jonathan has my back. It hurts to hear that— that you went up to my closest allies and told him to stay away from me. Come on bro.” Ty: “have you talked to Zach?” Roberto: “I talked to him after the comp thing.”
1:09:04 - Purple Bedroom - Zach Questions Anika/Kuzie
Zach asks Kuzie/Anika if they were getting Roberto’s pitch. Zach: “what was he saying? Was he talking about me?” Kuzie: “no.” Zach: “don’t lie. I’ve already been told a couple times.” Kuzie: “so then why would you ask” she laughs. Zach: “why would you lie.” Kuzie: “he was just saying why he should stay here.” Zach: “and why I’m the problem?” Kuzie says no. Anika: “he never named anyone.” Zach: “he came to me and said ‘you are making the decisions for everybody in the house; you have everyone wrapped around your finger.’ And I’m like how is that possible?” Zach: “with the Vanessa thing, if anything, it’s like, right now, like the person nobody really wants to be seen with in some ways” [something happened with Vanessa; she had like a meltdown or something. Zach said a similar comment in his talk with Daniel, but it was just as vague]. Zach questions them if they are making decisions based on what he says. They say no. Zach: “I guess you just have to paint a target on someone else when you’re on your way out the door.” Kuzie agrees that’s probably what it is. Zach turns to Anika: “how do you feel. You’re usually pretty honest.” Anika: “I’ll talk to you one-on-one.” As Zach leaves, Kuzie: “it’s a dirty game!”
1:12:07 - Purple Bedroom - Anika/Kuzie Weigh Their Options
Kuzie/Anika finally have time to talk alone. Anika: “okay tell me what Roberto said.” Kuzie: “so basically, he actually was saying Zach” she laughs because she just lied to Zach. Kuzie: “if I’m being fair, Rob did actually make some valid points.” Kuzie says she agrees that last week the house was intimidated into voting a certain way, and this week is the same. Kuzie says if they evict Roberto, that’s one physical threat out of the house; however, they would just be playing Zach’s game and whoever else he is working with. Kuzie says Zach told people this morning that the replacement nominee would be Roberto. Kuzie: “I already knew because I picked up the pieces.” Kuzie says it’s not right that the house is being used to settle personal vendettas, and if it was down to just that fact, she would consider flipping and keeping Roberto. Anika: “me too.” But Kuzie says, if Roberto stays, then he’ll be in the house with Santina and there will be 2 “giants”: Ty/Zach and Roberto/Santina. Would they rather have 2 giants or 1.5 giants? Anika says Ty said “someone” told him that Anika said “if we keep Rob, then Rob/Santina/Ty are working together”. Anika, who must have only told Kuzie that: “I just don’t understand how he heard that.” Kuzie comes clean. Kuzie says she said something similar to that earlier so that must be it: “did he say it was me?” Anika: “no, he didn’t say names.” Anika summarizes the ongoing drama: “so this is what’s happening: Santina wants Rob to stay, Zach wants Rob to go, and Ty is in the middle but is leaning more with Zach.” Anika says that the personal comments between Ty/Roberto is really what’s driving Ty’s decision.
1:20:10 - Kitchen - Roberto & Zach Tense Convo
Roberto tells Zach he wants people to consider why he’s on the block. Roberto: “I was seen as a threat and the people that were supposed to back me didn’t… based off some bullshit excuse of me ‘running around being paranoid causing drama’, not wanting to reciprocate a romantic situation with a girl is not a reason to be on a block, blowing this place up into a verbal fight with you and Vanessa is not a reason to put me on the block. And I have people telling me that you’re telling them to separate themselves from me.” Zach: “who said that? Jonathan? Man that’s not what I said to Jonathan. What I said was “bro, that’s a lot of heat on you.” Zach says he has used the same advice with Roberto. Zach says that the people that were supposed to back him tried to back him multiple times. Roberto: “yeah.” Zach: “yes or no?” Roberto: “I definitely think we had a good thing going.” Roberto mentions Shanaya; she does not back him in the game anymore ever since he friend-zoned her. Zach tries to explain away his comment he made to Jonathan. Roberto: “asking him to step away from the ‘heat’ is asking him to step away from me, is that not what you’re saying?” Zach says you have to be able to separate personal from game. Roberto: “but I’m being pinpointed because of personal” (his blowup with Shanaya). Zach says that’s not his doing, and Roberto accused him of controlling the house. Roberto says Zach influences a lot of people. Zach: “I think you have tunnel vision. The tunnel vision? I guess we’ll see if it works or if it doesn’t work.” Zach says if Roberto thinks he has so much respect from the house, then going around saying that might have the opposite affect [he’s getting angry through the fake smile]. Roberto: “I’m not slandering you.” Zach: “a little bit.” Roberto says when people ask him why Dan put him on the block, he can’t tell them it’s because he’s a paranoid freak. Zach reluctantly agrees. They talk about the Shanaya drama; Zach says he gave Roberto advice to stay away for a couple days after he pulled back from Shanaya, but the next day he was with her closer than ever. Zach says that everyone’s being coming to him saying Roberto has been blaming him all night. Zach: “so now I gotta campaign right?” Zach says he has to come just as hard back at him. They talk about Shanaya for a while. Zach: “the reason why you can go into any room and dominate? Is because your a hot dude that can speak.” They talk in circles for a bit (things that have already been said).
1:36:08 - Purple Bedroom - Anika/Kuzie Lean Toward an Option
Anika asks Kuzie where Jonathan’s head is at. Kuzie: “he’s definitely voting Renee out.” Anika: “how does he feel about Zach?” Kuzie: “not good.” Anika: “that’s good for us. I should talk to Jonathan.” Anika says she’s glad Vanessa stirred s—t up with Zach. Kuzie: “it needed to happen. I don’t think it needed to reach those heights— the comments that were chucked out there, I don’t like them, but it needed to happen” [really hoping we see the Vanessa vs Zach fight on the show]. Kuzie: “but, if we keep Roberto, we solidify that lock: you (Zach) may think you run the house, but we run the votes.” Anika: “I agree.” Zach walks in for a moment then leaves. Anika: “how are we even gonna decide?” Kuzie: “we need to sit down with Daniel and talk.” Anika: “this POV changed everything, before when it was Hope and Renee it was an easy decision.” They discuss how they are going to approach Renee for a more strategic game talk (without tipping her off that they are going to vote her out). Anika says Ty and Santina are confusing her: “how are you together but one wants to vote out one person and the other wants to vote out the other?” Anika describes her disagreement with Santina that happened week 1: Santina approached Anika after the JM backdoor, and Anika told her that she is not someone that Santina can expect to blindly follow and/or evict whoever she wants.
1:45:29 - Library - Roberto & Santina Update
Roberto retells his passive-aggressive/borderline-aggressive convo with Zach to Santina. Roberto: “he tried to put it on me.” Santina: “of course. That’s what he’s good at.” Santian cautions Roberto to be careful with how he speaks with Zach, because Zach now knows Roberto is going to campaign against him, which isn’t good. Roberto says moving forward his own game will be about getting an “influencer” out of the house. Santina: “a lot of people in the game trust Zach, because he protects them.” Santina asks how important BB is to Roberto. Roberto: “very important.” Santina advises Roberto call out Zach in front of other people.
1:50:05 - Purple Bedroom - Jonathan’s Perfect Timing
Jonathan has joined Kuzie/Anika in the bedroom. Anika tells Jonathan that Dan will resonate with what Jonathan is saying about feeling “pressured” to do things, because Dan probably felt pressured to do what Zach wanted. Jonathan says if they get the numbers to keep Roberto, their side will have what it takes to control the house, not the other side. Jonathan: “that’s my take.” Kuzie: “that’s the talk I needed.” [seriously, it was]. Anika agrees. Jonathan promises to stand by them if they choose to side with Roberto. Anika says she is leaning more toward keeping Roberto. Anika thanks Jonathan for coming to talk to them. Jonathan leaves.
1:53:59 - Purple Bedroom - Anika/Kuzie: Sold
Kuzie and Anika are alone again after Jonathan left. Anika: “damn…” Kuzie: “I’m sold.” Anika: “me too.” Kuzie: “I love his energy.” [me too tbh]. Kuzie plans to talk to Hope to confirm if this is all true (Kuzie says he wouldn’t lie to her). Anika: “I’m very much sold.” Kuzie mentions how when Roberto was talking to them earlier, Zach came into the room with his arms folded like they were his chickens and he was checking on them. Kuzie: “are you mother hen?” Anika: “I know, I was so annoyed.” And that’s a wrap for Digital Daily #10!
submitted by CitizenSnips4 to BigBrother [link] [comments]
Pre-Digital Daily: Zach used the POV on Hope. Dan named Roberto as the replacement nominee. Final noms are Renee and Roberto. Vanessa and Zach got into a shouting match in front of everyone.
TL;DR:
Zach and Ty’s plan to backdoor Roberto is all going to plan. Or is it? Digital Daily #10 kicks off in the Circle K room, where Ty and Jonathan talk after a game-changing veto ceremony: Jonathan is disappointed that Ty/Zach have gone against their former ally Roberto; Ty then explains his reasoning; Jonathan warns Ty to watch his back with Zach. Later, Roberto and Jonathan check in with each other on their campaign to save Roberto. In the bedroom, Zach corners Daniel to find out what he knows about Roberto efforts to flip the vote and save himself. Later, Roberto campaigns to Daniel/Kuzie/Anika, saying if he stays, he will be after one person: Zach. After Roberto and Daniel leave, Zach enters to question Anika/Kuzie about Roberto’s pitch. Once Zach leaves, Anika/Kuzie weigh the options of evicting Roberto or Renee. In the kitchen, Zach and Roberto have a tense conversation where Zach avoids any accountability for his part in the backdoor plan this week; Shanaya’s romantic ultimatum was seemingly used by Zach to hurt Roberto’s game; Roberto makes it clear that his campaign will include letting people know that Zach has too much influence in the house. Back in the bedroom, Jonathan approaches Anika/Kuzie for their support. He says all the right things: after he leaves, they excitedly decide to keep Roberto and make a stand against Zach.
Going into detail…
0:00:07 - Circle K - Jonathan & Ty One-on-One
Ty and Jonathan talk. Ty: “I liked JM the last few days we got to know him, but— the game.” (They have been talking about the rift in their alliance, Ty/Zach vs Roberto/Jonathan). Ty: “i don’t wear my emotions on my face, but I do feel everything. This situation is tough for me too. I f—k with Rob. Heavy. It was me/you/him at the start. But then things get brought up and you have to reevaluate: is this game I need to play or no?” Ty says he has been hearing things Roberto has said and cross referencing them. Ty says he just confronted Zach about what Roberto said to him, in front of Roberto. Ty: “I’m not playing the whole broken telephone thing. If someone says something about me? Then stand in front of the person you said said it, so I can see who’s lying.” Jonathan: “I thought we were all boys...” Jonathan nervously gets it out that Zach is playing dirty. Jonathan: “bro watch your ass. There’s two people in this house who I believe deserve to win— you’re one of them.” Ty thanks him. Ty says “this is what I told Rob in the bathroom:” Ty’s immediate reaction is to save Roberto, but he has to reevaluate how pulling Roberto off the block would affect him; Ty likes Renee and is trying to keep the “flamingos” (pink bedroom) together, but he doesn’t feel like Renee was reciprocating that; however, Ty didn’t close the door on Renee. Ty: “so that’s what I have to take into consideration.” Ty pulls a Santina: “do I risk the rest of my game by saving someone that’s clearly the target this week, and now I’m fighting against the rest of the house for the rest of my time here? Or do I just make the easy decision and go with what’s going on.” Jonathan: “..it’s tough bro.” Ty apologizes to Jonathan for pulling Claudia away from him. Jonathan: “I love that though” (that Ty/Claudia are together). Ty says when he is with Claudia, it’s just relaxing; with everyone else, it’s stressful. Jonathan, switching subjects to Zach: “just don’t believe everything you hear bro, especially if it’s from the same source.” Ty finishes his retelling of his convo with Roberto: he told Roberto that however this week plays out, Ty is watching him. Jonathan adds that Roberto has been trying to spread his paranoia to him. Then Jonathan says “but I’m just telling you, watch your ass, because your his (Zach’s) comp beast and he knows that.” Ty: “yeah.” Jonathan: “if I go next week, so be it.” Ty: “you’re not going anywhere, I’m telling you right now.” Jonathan clarifies that the info that put Roberto/Jonathan in this situation came from the “exact same source.” Jonathan says he is an experienced 33-year old man; “so I’m in here and I see this guy that’s gonna try to manipulate me? And everything around me? Trying to pull strings? There ain’t no f—king strings on me.” Jonathan says if he makes any moves he’s afraid Zach will get wind of it and make up lies about him like he did Roberto. Jonathan: “I won’t make up lies. If that sends me out of the house, so be it.” Ty: “you do what you gotta do Johnny, that’s all I gotta say.” Jonathan reels it in and apologizes but “it’s just talk between bros”. Jonathan appeals to Ty’s interest in Claudia by saying “me and Claudia are very similar in a lot of ways. She’s my girl, my sis. So I’m just kinda like, venting.” Ty: “you just gotta make sure that you don’t take decisions personally, when they are made for the game. Because some people are playing the game while you’re playing with your heart.” Jonathan: “that’s why I’m ready to go home.” He says his family is waiting at home. Jonathan: “I made it here.” Ty: “you made it here. But I wanna see you go farther.” Jonathan brings it back to Zach: “he said to me ‘you’re gonna do this this and this. I’m gonna let you do this.’ And I’m like, why would I do that? ‘Because I said so’” Jonathan says Zach backtracks on his statement that he didn’t make any decisions this week. Jonathan: “I’m just trying to keep my distance.” Ty advises that Jonathan make his presence in this house felt; “talk to who you want to talk to.” They wrap up their conversation and shake hands. Ty: “I wanna see you go far in this competition.” Jonathan: “likewise, and take care of my sis. But if you’re sleeping in the same bed, we’re gonna have an issue.” They laugh. As Ty leaves through the door: “I’ll ask your permission.” Jonathan laughs.
0:11:11 - Kitchen - Kitchen Stuff
In the kitchen, Santina makes garlic bread. Roberto and Anika are in the room. Roberto jokes around with Santina, but leaves soon after.
0:14:13 - Circle K - Roberto & Jonathan Check In
Roberto joins Jonathan in the Circle K room. Jonathan ask how the “tea” is. Roberto: “I think we got Hope (his vote).” Jonathan: “oh good because I put in work too with Hope.” Roberto: “Vanessa said that she has Kuzie and Daniel C.” Jonathan makes an unsure face. Roberto: “I know I’m on the block and it’s inevitable… I’m probably less anxious than I have been because I know I just have to get up and go to work to stay.” Roberto jokes with viewers: “for people out there suffering from paranoia, like I am, there are ways you can get help.” Jonathan reads from his tea can: “like it says on the can, man: we’re ‘the ones that never shy away from being themselves, and what you see is what you get— always’… I love that actually.” Roberto laughs in agreement: “that’s what I’m gonna say in my speech.” This reminds Roberto to ask Jonathan for help rehearsing his speech. Robert asks if Renee has approached him about the vote. Jonathan: “I pretty much told her where my vote is at, and she completely respected it.” Roberto: “is she moving around to people campaigning?” Jonathan: “not that I know of.” They talk about how Renee had a suspicion that Roberto was going to be on the block. Jonathan: “so uh. I’m telling you. Don’t underestimate the sneakiness of this guy (Zach).” Jonathan talks a bit about his conversation with Ty, but the focus is on how sneaky Zach is. Roberto apologizes to JM at home. They talk about Hope. Jonathan: “he’s one of us. He’s loyal.” Roberto says he is going to pull a Godfre BBCAN3; people are going to know who his targets are by the end of this week. Roberto gives his last wishes if he get evicted: “please get that guy (Zach) out.” Jonathan wonders why everyone is so afraid of Zach. Roberto says it’s because “if I follow the crowd, they won’t see me!” Jonathan: “should I blow it up? Yell at him in front of a crowd? Call him out? Would that put the fear in him? I feel like he really does fear me.” They hope viewers see how Zach is. Jonathan says they have 2 days of hard campaigning to do; they can do this.
0:25:21 - Purple Bedroom - Zach Corners Daniel for Information
Zach works Daniel for information. Convo begins because Daniel embarrassed Zach or something in front of Kuzie and Anika. Zach worries that Vanessa is going to self evict to keep Roberto in the game. Daniel: “I’m not gonna keep Rob in the game.” Zach says that Roberto has been going around to the girls trying to get them against the guys. Daniel: “he’s talked to me, too.” Zach: “see?” Zach says Roberto caused it himself. Zach: “and then that blowup!” Daniel: “they’re gonna try their hardest to flip that vote. Telling you right now.” Zach: “who is?” Daniel: “Roberto and whoever wants to flip the vote.” Zach: “here’s what you need to do for me: find out who he’s working with to flip it. There’s one name in particular that I wanna know, but find out.” Daniel: “Santina.” Zach laughs and Daniel rolls his eyes because it was obvious. Daniel: “I’m not an idiot.” Zach: “do you think she’s going to?” Daniel says he hasn’t talked to her yet. Daniel says he wanted to work with Santina but after their first talk week 1, Santina never gave Daniel the opportunity to speak game ever again. Zach says he trusts Santina and is working with her, but this Roberto situation… Zach asks about Santina wanting to speak with Daniel later. Daniel doesn’t know if it’s about flipping the house or anything. Daniel says they are missing the “prayer thing” at the dinner table. They leave to eat.
0:31:25 - Dining Table - Dinner Time
Everyone eats at the table. Anika says she’s awkward with kids; she doesn’t know what to do with them or talk about with them. Everyone laughs. Eating and random chatter continues.
0:39:23 - Library - Hope’s Age
Zach and Hope play pool. Anika sits in the room with them. Anika asks how old Hope is. Hope reveals: “I’m 27 turning 28 next year.” Roberto comes in after a while and thanks Anika for making dinner. Roberto lets the group know that a hot tub thing is happening soon. Roberto leaves and the pool game continues.
0:45:42 - Purple Bedroom - Roberto Campaigns to Daniel/Kuzie/Anika
Daniel/Kuzie/Roberto sit in the bedroom. Daniel says he wants to go to the hot tub thing. Kuzie asks Roberto how he’s doing. Roberto: “other than being completely blindsided, good.” Kuzie: “completely?” Daniel: “you didn’t know before?” Roberto says he knew it was in the works; that rumors and lies were being told about him. Kuzie and Daniel ask what the rumors are. Roberto: “Jonathan was told to distance himself from me; Hope was told I was going to vote him out.” Anika enters the room. Daniel tells Roberto to just take it with a grain of salt. Kuzie asks why Roberto isn’t asking the source directly. Roberto: “I don’t need to.” Kuzie: “because if something is a blatant lie, wouldn’t you want to say ‘this is a blatant lie’?” Roberto says it’s too many lies. Kuzie asks how Roberto will prove the lies are untrue. Roberto says he hopes his allies will just believe him. Roberto asks them to keep their eyes open to who’s talking to them and why. They apologize to Roberto that he’s in this position. Roberto says he will have one-on-ones with them later to talk deeper. He opens the conversation up to Anika who’s sitting a few beds over. Roberto says if there are specific attacks against him, please consider the source and keep in mind his true character. Roberto says he talked to Dan and told him he was disappointed and that it wasn’t him (Dan) talking when he made the replacement nominee speech. Daniel: “did he agree to that?” Roberto: “he said it was a group of people that came to him to say that I was causing drama.” Daniel: “but he didn’t say who.” Roberto: “like his whole game. But we’re not stupid, we can see who that group is.” They agree. Roberto says he is being transparent with them: if he stays this week, he is after one person. Zach walks into the bedroom. The group starts talking about the hot tub. Zach stands and observes their conversation and behavior with crossed arms.
0:58:26 - Purple Bedroom - Hot Tub, Anyone?
Roberto has left the room, leaving Zach/Daniel/Kuzie/Anika. Daniel tries to get Kuzie to go with him to the hot tub. Anika says no, Anika/Kuzie are gonna spend time together. Renee walks in to get more people for the hot tub. Nobody but Daniel wants to go. Renee: “okay so we’re down to 3.” Dan being the third. Renee leaves to go see if Roberto is getting in. Daniel: “I’m not going in the hot tub with just Renee and Dan.” Anika asks why not. Daniel says because Renee will get out ASAP and then it will just be him and Daniel. Renee walks in and tells Zach to explain to the rest of the house why he isn’t going in the hot tub. Zach caves and goes to the hot tub with Daniel. Anika gets in Kuzie’s bed, they get cozy and prepare to gossip.
1:03:14 - Purple Bedroom - Claudia’s Thoughts
Claudia enters and says she came to get some comfy clothes. Claudia: “I feel like it’s gonna be a long two days.” Kuzie: “there’s a lot to consider.” Claudia laughs and says Daniel said “can we just go in the hot tub tonight? (No campaigning)”. Claudia: “no, but I would be the same way if I was on the block.” Kuzie questions which one of the nominees is the lesser evil. Anika asks how Claudia feels about it. Claudia: “obviously I’m close with Renee and I don’t want to see her go. It sucks to see Rob up there.. yea I think if Rob stays in this game, I think he’s gonna go after… certain people (obviously Ty)? Which is good for our girls numbers; it’s just a lot to think about it. But if I’m being honest I can’t see myself going into the DR and voting out Renee. Hope walks in and the conversation dies down.
1:06:45 - Purple Bedroom - Hope’s Not-So-Subtle Message for Kuzie
Hope walks over to Kuzie and Anika: “Hey Kuzie. Jonathan told me you need to talk to him.” Kuzie: “see? That. You can’t say that” (Apparently Kuzie has talked to Hope before about saying game related things so casually). Hope: “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know it was game talk.” Kuzie: “even if it isn’t, it will seem like it is.” They agree to talk later. Zach comes back to borrow Hope’s shorts.
1:08:24 - Pink Bedroom - Beginning of Ty/Roberto Convo
Ty tells Roberto he talked to Jonathan, and he’s gonna play with his heart. Roberto: “I know that Jonathan has my back. It hurts to hear that— that you went up to my closest allies and told him to stay away from me. Come on bro.” Ty: “have you talked to Zach?” Roberto: “I talked to him after the comp thing.”
1:09:04 - Purple Bedroom - Zach Questions Anika/Kuzie
Zach asks Kuzie/Anika if they were getting Roberto’s pitch. Zach: “what was he saying? Was he talking about me?” Kuzie: “no.” Zach: “don’t lie. I’ve already been told a couple times.” Kuzie: “so then why would you ask” she laughs. Zach: “why would you lie.” Kuzie: “he was just saying why he should stay here.” Zach: “and why I’m the problem?” Kuzie says no. Anika: “he never named anyone.” Zach: “he came to me and said ‘you are making the decisions for everybody in the house; you have everyone wrapped around your finger.’ And I’m like how is that possible?” Zach: “with the Vanessa thing, if anything, it’s like, right now, like the person nobody really wants to be seen with in some ways” [something happened with Vanessa; she had like a meltdown or something. Zach said a similar comment in his talk with Daniel, but it was just as vague]. Zach questions them if they are making decisions based on what he says. They say no. Zach: “I guess you just have to paint a target on someone else when you’re on your way out the door.” Kuzie agrees that’s probably what it is. Zach turns to Anika: “how do you feel. You’re usually pretty honest.” Anika: “I’ll talk to you one-on-one.” As Zach leaves, Kuzie: “it’s a dirty game!”
1:12:07 - Purple Bedroom - Anika/Kuzie Weigh Their Options
Kuzie/Anika finally have time to talk alone. Anika: “okay tell me what Roberto said.” Kuzie: “so basically, he actually was saying Zach” she laughs because she just lied to Zach. Kuzie: “if I’m being fair, Rob did actually make some valid points.” Kuzie says she agrees that last week the house was intimidated into voting a certain way, and this week is the same. Kuzie says if they evict Roberto, that’s one physical threat out of the house; however, they would just be playing Zach’s game and whoever else he is working with. Kuzie says Zach told people this morning that the replacement nominee would be Roberto. Kuzie: “I already knew because I picked up the pieces.” Kuzie says it’s not right that the house is being used to settle personal vendettas, and if it was down to just that fact, she would consider flipping and keeping Roberto. Anika: “me too.” But Kuzie says, if Roberto stays, then he’ll be in the house with Santina and there will be 2 “giants”: Ty/Zach and Roberto/Santina. Would they rather have 2 giants or 1.5 giants? Anika says Ty said “someone” told him that Anika said “if we keep Rob, then Rob/Santina/Ty are working together”. Anika, who must have only told Kuzie that: “I just don’t understand how he heard that.” Kuzie comes clean. Kuzie says she said something similar to that earlier so that must be it: “did he say it was me?” Anika: “no, he didn’t say names.” Anika summarizes the ongoing drama: “so this is what’s happening: Santina wants Rob to stay, Zach wants Rob to go, and Ty is in the middle but is leaning more with Zach.” Anika says that the personal comments between Ty/Roberto is really what’s driving Ty’s decision.
1:20:10 - Kitchen - Roberto & Zach Tense Convo
Roberto tells Zach he wants people to consider why he’s on the block. Roberto: “I was seen as a threat and the people that were supposed to back me didn’t… based off some bullshit excuse of me ‘running around being paranoid causing drama’, not wanting to reciprocate a romantic situation with a girl is not a reason to be on a block, blowing this place up into a verbal fight with you and Vanessa is not a reason to put me on the block. And I have people telling me that you’re telling them to separate themselves from me.” Zach: “who said that? Jonathan? Man that’s not what I said to Jonathan. What I said was “bro, that’s a lot of heat on you.” Zach says he has used the same advice with Roberto. Zach says that the people that were supposed to back him tried to back him multiple times. Roberto: “yeah.” Zach: “yes or no?” Roberto: “I definitely think we had a good thing going.” Roberto mentions Shanaya; she does not back him in the game anymore ever since he friend-zoned her. Zach tries to explain away his comment he made to Jonathan. Roberto: “asking him to step away from the ‘heat’ is asking him to step away from me, is that not what you’re saying?” Zach says you have to be able to separate personal from game. Roberto: “but I’m being pinpointed because of personal” (his blowup with Shanaya). Zach says that’s not his doing, and Roberto accused him of controlling the house. Roberto says Zach influences a lot of people. Zach: “I think you have tunnel vision. The tunnel vision? I guess we’ll see if it works or if it doesn’t work.” Zach says if Roberto thinks he has so much respect from the house, then going around saying that might have the opposite affect [he’s getting angry through the fake smile]. Roberto: “I’m not slandering you.” Zach: “a little bit.” Roberto says when people ask him why Dan put him on the block, he can’t tell them it’s because he’s a paranoid freak. Zach reluctantly agrees. They talk about the Shanaya drama; Zach says he gave Roberto advice to stay away for a couple days after he pulled back from Shanaya, but the next day he was with her closer than ever. Zach says that everyone’s being coming to him saying Roberto has been blaming him all night. Zach: “so now I gotta campaign right?” Zach says he has to come just as hard back at him. They talk about Shanaya for a while. Zach: “the reason why you can go into any room and dominate? Is because your a hot dude that can speak.” They talk in circles for a bit (things that have already been said).
1:36:08 - Purple Bedroom - Anika/Kuzie Lean Toward an Option
Anika asks Kuzie where Jonathan’s head is at. Kuzie: “he’s definitely voting Renee out.” Anika: “how does he feel about Zach?” Kuzie: “not good.” Anika: “that’s good for us. I should talk to Jonathan.” Anika says she’s glad Vanessa stirred s—t up with Zach. Kuzie: “it needed to happen. I don’t think it needed to reach those heights— the comments that were chucked out there, I don’t like them, but it needed to happen” [really hoping we see the Vanessa vs Zach fight on the show]. Kuzie: “but, if we keep Roberto, we solidify that lock: you (Zach) may think you run the house, but we run the votes.” Anika: “I agree.” Zach walks in for a moment then leaves. Anika: “how are we even gonna decide?” Kuzie: “we need to sit down with Daniel and talk.” Anika: “this POV changed everything, before when it was Hope and Renee it was an easy decision.” They discuss how they are going to approach Renee for a more strategic game talk (without tipping her off that they are going to vote her out). Anika says Ty and Santina are confusing her: “how are you together but one wants to vote out one person and the other wants to vote out the other?” Anika describes her disagreement with Santina that happened week 1: Santina approached Anika after the JM backdoor, and Anika told her that she is not someone that Santina can expect to blindly follow and/or evict whoever she wants.
1:45:29 - Library - Roberto & Santina Update
Roberto retells his passive-aggressive/borderline-aggressive convo with Zach to Santina. Roberto: “he tried to put it on me.” Santina: “of course. That’s what he’s good at.” Santian cautions Roberto to be careful with how he speaks with Zach, because Zach now knows Roberto is going to campaign against him, which isn’t good. Roberto says moving forward his own game will be about getting an “influencer” out of the house. Santina: “a lot of people in the game trust Zach, because he protects them.” Santina asks how important BB is to Roberto. Roberto: “very important.” Santina advises Roberto call out Zach in front of other people.
1:50:05 - Purple Bedroom - Jonathan’s Perfect Timing
Jonathan has joined Kuzie/Anika in the bedroom. Anika tells Jonathan that Dan will resonate with what Jonathan is saying about feeling “pressured” to do things, because Dan probably felt pressured to do what Zach wanted. Jonathan says if they get the numbers to keep Roberto, their side will have what it takes to control the house, not the other side. Jonathan: “that’s my take.” Kuzie: “that’s the talk I needed.” [seriously, it was]. Anika agrees. Jonathan promises to stand by them if they choose to side with Roberto. Anika says she is leaning more toward keeping Roberto. Anika thanks Jonathan for coming to talk to them. Jonathan leaves.
1:53:59 - Purple Bedroom - Anika/Kuzie: Sold
Kuzie and Anika are alone again after Jonathan left. Anika: “damn…” Kuzie: “I’m sold.” Anika: “me too.” Kuzie: “I love his energy.” [me too tbh]. Kuzie plans to talk to Hope to confirm if this is all true (Kuzie says he wouldn’t lie to her). Anika: “I’m very much sold.” Kuzie mentions how when Roberto was talking to them earlier, Zach came into the room with his arms folded like they were his chickens and he was checking on them. Kuzie: “are you mother hen?” Anika: “I know, I was so annoyed.” And that’s a wrap for Digital Daily #10!