There's a bit of a running gag in my group: Nimbats. inspired by a odd little fey creature from an old video game called Dust:an elysian tail. We'd make familiars, fey summons, npcs etc these cute little creatures. The 'joke' being every one summoned is a distant relative of another, referencing prior campaigns and making various in-jokes as time went on.
In comes PF2 and continuing the tradition is a must, and while making a Nimbat familiar makes the most sense, my players have been wondering if they could make one that's a bit more combat oriented. Hence:Nimbat animal companion. Tinkering with the stats I came up with the following; as a whole they have slightly lower combat stats (only a +1 to stcon, -1 Wis) then other ACs to make up for their unique abilities. Truth be told I'm not sure if I under-tuned or over-tuned them so I'm curious on peoples opinion on the matter.
Nimbat
Your companion is a whimsical fey creature known as a Nimbat. A Nimbat has the Fey trait instead of the animal trait, but it otherwise functions normally as an animal companion with some exceptions. When you choose the Nimbat companion choose a damage type:Fire, Cold, Acid, Electricity. All the Nimbats damage is that type
Size:Tiny*
Melee <> Shockwave Damage:1d6* Variable, Finesse, Reach
Ranged <> Magic Dart Damage:1d4* Variable, Propulsive, Range:30ft
Str +1, Dex +3, Con +1, Int –1, Wis -1, Cha +1*
Hit Points:6
Skill:Deception or Diplomacy
Senses: Low-Light vision
Speed: 15feet Fly 30feet
Support Benefit The Nimbat combines its magic with your weapon swings. Until the start of your next turn, each time you hit a creature within 15feet of the nimbat with a Strike, the creature takes an additional 1d6 Chosen damage type from the Nimbats magic. If the Nimbat is nimble or savage, the damage increases to 2d6.
Advanced maneuver:Dust Storm
Dust storm <><>
The Nimbat sends a flurry of magic towards your weapon that you can unleash into wave of magic on adjacent foes. Your Nimbat makes three strikes at three different targets but is treated as if it's occupying your space for these attacks. Each attack counts toward the Nimbat's multiple attack penalty, but the penalty only increases after all the attacks have been made. Your Nimbat must be within 15 feet of you to use this ability, and you must be capable of taking actions.
\Special:Nimbats never increase in size. They still gain all the other normal benefits of animal companion feats. Nimbat can both talk (knowing common and sylvan) and perform manipulate actions. Whenever a feat or class ability would raise a Nimbats Wisdom you can instead choose to raise a Nimbats Charisma. If a feat would raise the Nimbats proficiency in intimidate you may instead choose to raise the Nimbats proficiency in deception or diplomacy. When your nimbat becomes nimble or savage choose another damage type out of fire, cold, acid, or electricity; your Nimbat may choose to deal this damage type in place of their normal type.*

Hey everyone my (37F) partner and I (40M) are headed to Denver for a weekend get away and we’re looking for a cool restaurant that we won’t seem like old fucks in. Every place we go we feel weird and isolated because we’re fucking entitled millennials who can’t just hang and have to feel out of place if the vibes are off or if the crowd is slightly younger than us.
Since we’re elder millennials we want a restaurant/lounge that plays Seinfeld or Friends reruns 24/7. We love craft beer so any place that serves saw dust crusty ass ale and Juicy douchey tushy IPAs are preferred. We don’t have kids because fuck kids am I right.
Anyways I know this is a weird request but if everything goes right we’ll probably move here. If you fuck it up we’ll leave some rancid yelp reviews and bottom out your local economy. The choice is yours, Namaste.

Umberto Eco’s 14 Features of Fascism and Their Contrasts
1. The cult of tradition: the strict adherence to established customs, practices, or beliefs (esp. Christianity and kings/authoritarians “by divine right.”)
Contrasted to
Celebration of innovation: values new ideas, change, and advancement (esp. freedom, thinking for oneself, and rule by consent of the people)
2. The rejection of modernism: Fascists see it as modern depravity, so they resist social and cultural change. They advocate for a return to older, established traditions and values (esp. Christianity and kings/authoritarians “by divine right”).
Contrasted to
The celebration of modernism: Modernism is a broad philosophical, arts, and religious transformation in Western society during 19th and 20th centuries, originating in the 17th century with The Age of Reason, The Enlightenment. Enlightenment thinkers originated the ideas integrated into the U.S. Constitution, forming an entirely new form of government, a democratic federal republic. (esp. freedom, thinking for oneself, and rule by consent of the people)
3. The cult of action for action’s sake: “Action being beautiful in itself, it must be taken before or without any previous reflection. Thinking is a form of emasculation.”
Contrasted to
The embrace of thoughtful deliberation: Before taking action, (1) clearly define the question, (2) gather the facts/data, (3) describe the current and the desired circumstances, (4) generate many alternative solutions to achieving the desired circumstance, (5) synergize the alternatives into one best solution, (6) take massive action to implement the best solution with focus and energy, (7) gather feedback on solution effectiveness in achieving the desired circumstance, and (8) adjust the solution so it is more effective.
4. Disagreement is treason. “The critical spirit makes distinctions, and to distinguish is a sign of modernism.”
Contrasted to
The dialectic improves knowledge: In modern culture, the reality-based community comes to the most accurate knowledge through a three-step dialectic process: thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. This process is used in argumentation (including in courts), in professional journalism (reports of facts, not opinions), and in science through more than 10,000 peer-reviewed journals.
5. Fear of difference. “The first appeal of a fascist or prematurely fascist movement is an appeal against the intruders.”
Contrasted to
Celebration of diversity. Diverse perspectives, experiences, and identities are key to creativity and innovation, as well as to enriching society. Honoring differences creates a safe space for all individuals to live freely. The celebration of diversity fosters understanding, empathy, and equity among individuals of different backgrounds.
6. Appeal to social frustration. “One of the most typical features of the historical fascism was the appeal to a frustrated middle class, a class suffering from an economic crisis or feelings of political humiliation, and frightened by the pressure of lower social groups.”
Contrasted to
Addressing social needs and promoting social harmony. It entails documenting and understanding the underlying causes of people inability to achieve a better life. This approach seeks to create the conditions where all individuals can achieve a fulfilling quality of life. It emphasizes collaboration, understanding, and dialectical deliberation as a means to achieve unity and a better life.
7. The obsession with a plot. “Thus at the root of the Ur-Fascist psychology there is the obsession with a plot, possibly an international one. The followers must feel besieged.”
Contrasted to
Apathy and a feeling of disempowerment OR Keenly holding a sharp vision of the desired circumstances and building consensus to achieve it. People tend to feel overwhelmed by the constant drilling of the fascist propaganda, and fascist challenges to every quality vision, and they become apathetic. Driving the clear vision in public media educates people and provides any easy path to become involved in activities achieving that vision.
8. The enemy is both strong and weak. “By a continuous shifting of rhetorical focus, the enemies are at the same time too strong and too weak.
Contrasted to
The enemy is shifty. The enemy is fundamentally evil, defined as dehumanizing (as contrasted to developing optimal human potential). The enemy is sophisticated, accusing their opponents of doing what they themselves are about to do (or already got caught doing): creating false equivalencies. They take two opposing positions at once and making them seem like they support each other. They create confusion and “flood the (media) zone with shit.”
9. Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy. “For Eternal Fascism there is no struggle for life but, rather, life is lived for struggle.”
Contrasted to
Extremism is trafficking with the enemy. Extremists have no room for any way but their way. They block and demean any conversation or diplomacy with opponents. They demonize anyone who doesn’t embrace their worldview. Talking to them is impossible as they quickly begin shouting and name calling. Extinguish extremism by utterly ignoring it.
10. Contempt for the weak. “Elitism is a typical aspect of any reactionary ideology.”
Contrasted to
Compassion for the vulnerable: Supporting those who are unable or disabled. Supporting those who have fallen through the cracks by facilitating their attempts to improve their circumstances. “Teach a man to fish.” “Never do more for someone than they are willing to do for themselves.”
11. Everybody is educated to become a hero. “In Eternal Fascist ideology, heroism is the norm. This cult of heroism is strictly linked with the cult of death.”
Contrasted to
Every life is sacred. Immanuel Kant, Enlightenment thinker, proposed that individuals should be treated as ends in themselves and never merely as means to an end. Therefore, human beings have intrinsic worth and should be treated with dignity and respect, protected and empowered to their greatest potential.
12. Machismo and weaponry. “Machismo implies both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality.”
Contrasted to
Insight and compassion. Insight implies that all details are nested in a greater whole, and there are “infinite diversity in infinite combinations” all originating from the same energy field and the same star dust. Therefore, anything we think we understand is always subject to new discoveries and new methods of study; that is, we always question our own understanding. It follows that we must exercise compassion for every other human being, living thing, and every thing that exists, because of our own limited understanding. Others may be weaker, but their existence is just as valid as our own.
13. Selective populism. “There is in our future a TV or Internet populism, in which the emotional response of a selected group of citizens can be presented and accepted as the Voice of the People.”
Contrasted to
Virtually comprehensive populism. America is “E Pluribus Unum,” out of many one. There is a safe space for every one in America, to the point where extremists are allowed to operate here. However, our founding principles and societal morality does not allow for extremists who reject other groups and want to impose their narrow agenda on everyone else. In this case, the exception indeed makes the rule.
14. Eternal Fascism speaks Newspeak. “All the Nazi or Fascist schoolbooks made use of an impoverished vocabulary, and an elementary syntax, in order to limit the instruments for complex and critical reasoning.”
Contrasted to
Freedom of speech. The United States 3,300 people arrested for saying the wrong things. Only 400 in Russia. We still have a lot of work to do to achieve freedom of speech.
Okay, you made it this far. What do you think?

Elvis isn’t dead, he just went home.
Exploratory scout DSX862-QQ1 was cruising along at approximately 80% of lightspeed on an outer spiral arm of the galaxy it was native to. Its mission, issued by the Greater Council Exploratory Committee, was to seek out new life, new civilizations, points of scientific interest, and potential future colonies.
80% of the speed of light was a tremendous pace, even for a craft built by a galactic community as ancient as the Greater Council, but its particle shield was more than up to the task, and it allowed the scout to scoop interstellar dust and hydrogen to refuel itself, slowly charging its drives for the next pinch-jump. Each jump would catapult the little craft a hundred light years forwards, followed by another sub-light cruise to analyse, recharge and listen. It wasn’t expected to find much out here. Life had evolved in the warm, bright galactic core, entire civilizations meeting within decades of reaching orbit of their respective home worlds. Resources were plentiful, many of them had been talking for centuries before meeting face to face, with only years of communications lag, instead of the decades or centuries between the species evolving further out, in the colder reaches.
Out here, on the arm, everything was cold. Even the search for possible colony sites and resources was more a formality, record keeping for the sake of the endless bureaucracy that infested the Council.
So, it had come as a tremendous surprise to the scouts simple intelligence when it picked up the ghostly whisper of a deliberate radio signal.
Pulses, blips, zaps, hisses, all were the normal background noise of the cosmos, but this was a firm BUZZ. Soon followed by strings and knots of beeps. The scout rotates, following its radio antenna ‘nose’ to lock in a direction towards the noise. It spooled up its pinch-drive, and jumps, a few lightyears, not enough to drain its energies, but just enough to allow it to triangulate. Then jump again, to get a third point. A fourth, a fifth.
A yellow star, a few billion years old, spectral and gravitational indications speaking of gas giants, rocky and icy bodies, and a potential habitable zone with a world skimming just along the outer edge of the habitable zone. The source of the signals.
The scout spooled its pinch-drive once more, preparing to make the thirty something lightyear jump to close with the noisy world.
It also began the process of waking up its Commander.
++++++++
Kevin Karl and the Karlsons wound down their last song of the evening, sweating under the stage lights and bathed in the adoration of the crowd. This was IT, the high they had all dreamed of, had chased through bars, opening acts, and finally, after just a few years, headline act of a whole show!
They’d bopped along to the other acts on that night, friends all, they’d been on tour together for weeks across the entire USA and would be playing two more shows before wrapping up for the year.
Off-stage, past the cheering, singing, breathless fans of rock and roll, brought together by the joy of the new genre that seemed to defy boundaries and break the locks of society. When they played, no-one saw the colour of their skin, Joeys scars, Mikes club foot. The band couldn’t make out individuals in the crowd. They saw humanity, united and beautiful, wrapped in the music they played.
One of the opening acts were gathered back stage, still bouncing, and their singer passed over a reefer cigarette. Kevin took a drag, feeling the smoke sooth his nerves as he passed it on, then he choked and laughed. “That was some show, could you feel them?”
The other singer, Jack ‘Wabbit’ let out a howl, “Hell yeah baby, felt like lightning, smooth lightning all through… wait, that gives me an idea for a song!”
He was off, crouching awkwardly as he pulled a pencil and notebook from somewhere and started scribbling.
Kevin chuckled, took a beer from Joey, and started walking towards the car. While far from brand new, it was big enough to take the band in relative comfort, while the instruments and gear followed in trucks. He climbed in back, sprawling across the bench, and closed his eyes. It was a thousand miles to the next venue, they were already running late to start getting organised, but he needed just a moment.
He was woken by a nudge. “Hey, Kev, you want a ride down to Jacksonville? Wabbit says his cousin has a plane, can take you both to Florida, rest of us will come down with the trucks, faster then the Catalina can get us there.”
Kevin blinked, groggy, but hanging on to getting to the next stop in comfort.
“Damn, yeah, I’m in! No way I’m passing up a planeride in comfort!”
++++++
The commander of DSX862-QQ1 listened to the sounds of the boisterous world her small ship had discovered. To say it was barely habitable was an understatement. Plenty worlds had higher gravity, but not the weather extremes this one had. Others had far worse weather but lacked the deadly pathogens that were detectable in the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Others still had some version or variation of every horrific threat this single world had, but never so many of them wrapped into one pristine appearing blue and green ball of life that seemed determined to survive by any means necessary.
She was impressed that life had evolved to multicellular levels at all, never mind to the point where it had achieved radio broadcast, powered flight and, if the latest scans were accurate, atomic power, weaponry, and the rudiments of space flight under development.
This world was only a few centuries from needing a first contact delegation, she could sense it.
If they survived. She’d seen plenty of far more peaceful civilisations wipe themselves out before achieving their full potential after all, and the light-delayed data her ship had gathered on the way in indicated that the primary species of this world **really** liked to fight one another.
Well, it wasn’t as if the Greater Council was perfect. A few hundred worlds, usually half at odds with the other half, or outright warring with the non-aligned groups surrounding them. Over what, she could hardly imagine, resources weren’t scarce, habitable worlds almost common, matters of religion seemed pointless to her.
Rather than be caught up in the endless squabbling, she’d worked to be assigned a scout ship, and only went ‘home’ when the databanks were full or the hull degraded.
She flipped idly through the signals her ship was pulling in. Mostly simple vocal signals, some barely encrypted, likely military, the rest completely in the clear. For a while there had been a simple video signal modulated as well, the computers now busy going through it to compile a useable language interface.
Her digit stopped, as one transmission caught her attention. There was a voice there, the words as yet unintelligible, but it was laced through, interwoven with, strung around a **sound**.
It wasn’t the first she’d heard of music from this world, nor even the first she’d heard following this particular set of musical rules, but there was something about **this** voice… It reached inside her, and she felt her soul reach out to embrace it.
It was memetic, the warning symbol now flashing on her display confirming what she already knew, but memetics were weapons, hazards, dangers to be filtered and avoided, while this?
It spoke of pain, it sang of loss, and heartbreak and joy and unity and togetherness. It sent her thoughts on strange tangents where her actions saved worlds, brought together warning species, enabled peace…
She shook off the effects as the music faded out and a smooth voice mumbled something, before the next song started. That too, touched her, yet lacked the sheer power of the first, and she was able to shut off the recording with a shaky digit.
She fumbled the ships controls, aligning with the source of the original transmission. A rickety looking steel tower with several high-powered emitters inside a small building next to it. Clearly not the source of the music itself, merely a civilian broadcast station, the music an entertainment medium.
She turned her attention then, to discovering what, or who, had created such a wonder.
++++++
Kevin stared at the airplane. It looked fresh, but old.
“War surplus, picked her up for a song when she was gonna be dumped out in a desert!” Wabbits cousin was a skinny boy, barely out of his teens, but with the quick and sure motions of an expert when he touched his beloved machine. “I heard you guys playing last night, gotta say, it changed my mind about black folks. Always thought to myself, to each their own right? And the laws are that way too, it made sense, but man, the way you sang, how the band played, I wanted to meet you, to say, you got me to see more. Like how the world looks from way up high, we’re all just one piece of something, right? And I think the world might be less ugly that way. So, I said to my cousin, man, I want to help out, my folks left me a pile of cash, I have my baby here, and if you want, I’ll take you where you gotta go.”
He stopped, looking at the ground, and although Kevin was tempted to accept the offer on the spot, but the kid was offering to sideline everything to ferry around his ass?
“Well, damn, listen man, thanks, and I’m grateful you’re giving us a ride to Jacksonville, but lets take it easy right? See how you feel after the flight and if you want to come to the show, sure, I’ll get you in. I can’t pay for regular flights though, I’m already paying for my car! Besides, as much as I need to get down there and make sure everythings golden, I can’t go leaving my band behind every time!”
“Oh, right, no it’s cool, if they want a ride too its all good. I want to make a change, and helping you out helps me do that, right? If you want to talk money, heck, I could bankroll a few shows, take a percentage in return, but its not about the money. Man you changed me, in a good way. I think you could do the same for people like me! You, uh. I stopped hating, you know? Feels good.”
Kevin started to wonder if he shouldn’t have just curled back up on his car bench and stayed asleep. “Okay, I’m on board, if you want to take the rest of my guys too, that’s great, we all get to our next stop on time, you get a show, and if you still want to help us out, we can look at more shows after the tour. Sound fair?”
They shook hands. Pete, as he turned out to be named, started fussing with his airplane again, and removing what he termed ‘junk’ from the hold and other parts of the craft, which to Kevins untrained eye all looked vaguely important, but were ‘heavy’.
He boarded with his band, and Wabbit, who had his own guitar with him, and as the airplane started taxying, amidst the reefer smoke, and snippets of song Wabbit was working on, they settled down for the flight.
++++++
DSX862-QQ1’s commander was hampered in her efforts to locate the origin of the music she had heard by the lack of any real information link between radio and physical locations. There was undoubtably ground-based cable she couldn’t tap, but there was no evidence of a wide area data network, and given the technology of the ‘Humans’ she wasn’t surprised.
Just frustrated.
Nonetheless, she was able to identify the singer, and his ‘band’ who played the instruments that had so perfectly twinned with his voice. She wondered how a purely non-verbal species would have received his music. Would they have felt what she felt just through the radio signal? Something she would learn, in time. Her plan was simple, she’d locate her subject, and deploy a drone to follow him. Wherever he played, her drone would invisibly follow, recording his music in perfect fidelity.
She’d return home, and share his music. Something no-one had heard before, had never experienced, and perhaps, it would make them see, and feel, what she had when hearing it.
The ship pinged, it had located a small heavier than air craft that had a high probability of carrying her quarry. It was moving at less than a third of the local speed of sound, but was being strangely buffeted. The computer flashed warning symbols on sections of the craft. Simple, but not primitive, the craft was perfectly designed for the task it was meant to perform, very good engineering had gone into creating it.
Yet it was failing, structurally, air pressures flowing over it far in excess for which it had been designed, one of this worlds unique weather phenomenon threatening to rip it apart.
Amidst the horror of realizing she was about to witness the death of those individuals who had touched her very soul, she recognized the craft was operating in excess of two hundred percent its designed stress ratings.
It was a toughness that bought a few seconds of thought. Of decision, and rash, perhaps illegal, action.
Digits brushed controls, summoning a hum from the depths of her ship. The fuel capture system was not meant for rescue, in fact, using for anything other than non-living mass was considered a breach of several laws. First and foremost, it was a very focusable disintegration array, making it a terrifying weapon. Secondly, it could collect the energy released by the disintegration and funnel it into storage cells to fuel the engines.
Thirdly, and this was the illegal part, her scoutships sensors could record exactly how the disintegrated matter had been arranged, down to the subatomic level, and the array could be reprogrammed to then reverse the process to convert the captured energy back into the original thing.
Used on an interesting rock, this was fine. On a living being it was murder at best and non-consensual cloning at worst.
Her digit pressed down firmly on the energize symbol that appeared below her hacked override code.
++++++
The aircraft finally surrendered to the windsheer pulling at it, fragmenting in a shimmering cloud of metallic fragments that erupt in a fireball as unspent aviation fuel is ignited.
Of the passengers and pilot, no trace was ever found, their deaths mourned by millions, in part for the loss of young people who had given the world such wonderful music, but also the sense of loss at the music they would now never be able to play. A pilot who had changed his beliefs and committed himself to promoting the ones who changed him for the better, a brilliant young singer and songwriter, and a band who could touch souls, lost forever.
The great changes they had been about to unleash would not take place. Or at least, not take place as quickly. The seeds had been planted, as other young people took up their instruments, raised their voices in song, and set out to change hearts and minds their own way.
Over the course of the centuries before Humanity could reach the stars as a single family, a steady stream of visitors dropped by the musical ball of rock. To observe, to listen, to rescue, when the opportunity arose.

In hindsight, I should have listened to the kill-bill alarm bells in my head when eight-year-old Cassie announced she and her cabin mates were going to skip out on camp activities and play Operation instead.
Though it’s not like I didn’t have things on my mind. Seven counsellors had gone missing—along with our head counsellor who was supposed to be taking care of us.
It started out fairly normal. I mean, one or two counselors wasn’t bad, right?
Lily and Joey had been drowning in sexual tension for a while, so nobody was surprised when they sneaked into the woods for what I could only guess was the most uncomfortable sex ever. But then they didn’t come back.
Teddy and Yuri went to look for them, and then they too also disappeared. It was almost like a wild animal was lying in wait for another unsuspecting teenager to cross its path.
With six of us left, I was definitely freaking out.
I wasn’t expecting summer camp to be like this. I did consider working in my local Sephora, but mom had a preference—and whether I was eighteen years old or not, she was getting her way. So, it was goodbye civilization, and hello Canadian wilderness.
There were fifteen kids queued up in front of me for lunch, and I was having a hard time keeping that optimistic Camp Redwood smile.
I couldn’t help constantly counting how many hours it had been since the latest disappearance, Connor.
He was supposed to be helping with getting the emergency generator going, after the electricity sizzled out.
The boy was gone an hour later. This was happening fast. Whatever was going on with the counsellors was burning through all of us. Would it happen to me?
I had seen so many TV shows and movies set in a summer camp where every camper and counsellor was doomed to die in the grossest way possible. Was that going to happen to us?
I tightened my grip around the stupid ladle I had found myself stirring, a giant pot of chocolate syrup. Watching watery chocolate drip from the edge, I felt nauseous. Of all the summer camp’s mom had to send me to, it had to be the one with vanishing counsellors and zero adult authority. Which meant we were the authority. Twelve teenagers who came to relax and babysit a bunch of little kids before college.
We had to put on brave faces and pretend everything was absolutely fine—and we weren’t all terrified out of our fucking minds.
At the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Harry offering piggybacks to a bunch of little kids, with one of the littles, Eleanor, wrapping her arms around his neck and squealing.
From the look on the boy’s face, he wanted to stop. It was hard to keep a façade when reality was becoming harder and harder to bear. Abandoning his hat completely, Harry was dripping with sweat, trying to twist his lips into the Camp Redwood grin. But looking closer, as he galloped across the cabin with Eleanor holding on for dear life, the guy was ready to collapse. I didn’t blame him.
Entertaining the kids was supposed to be Teddy’s assignment—and he was who knows where. I had taken over lunch duties for Lily, who had joined the long list of the missing.
Harry was supposed to be joining the search party for the missing councellors, but had ended up becoming the little’s personal punching bag.
When I first met him, Harry Carlisle had been the kid who sat on the side-lines and offered sarcastic remarks and crude jokes. Now, he had been reduced to a playground ride the kids pretended didn’t have an off switch.
He had enjoyed maybe the first two rides to raise morale, but now I could see the strain in his eyes. “Ow!” Harry winced when the little girl’s fingers prodded at his eyes. “Hey! Eleanor, not my eyes!” He was dangerously close to toppling over, though managed to catch his footing, ordering all of them off of his back. “Horse Rides are over!” He cupped his mouth, shouting across the cabin when a group of kids surrounded him with equally terrifying faces. Harry backed away and threw his hands up. “Come on, guys, my back isn’t built for all of you!”
“Horsey!” The kids shouted back in a cacophony of giggles.
It was 10 against one.
Against two, if I got involved. Which wasn’t going to happen. There was no way I was putting effort into play-fighting a bunch of eight-year-olds. Harry shot me a hopeful look, though I pretended not to see, busying myself with slightly burned nuggets.
Running his fingers through thick strands of sandy colored hair, Harry pulled a face when a little girl, Phoebe, was brave enough to step forward.
“No.” Harry shook his head, squeezing the front of his counsellor shirt practically glued to him. The temperature still hadn’t let up, and it was heading towards 8PM. Night-time, I thought dizzily. It was almost bedtime, and still no adults. “I refuse to surrender,” He told her. “Phoebe, I am not joking around when I’m saying my back is hurting. We’ve been playing horsey’s for two hours.”
“So?”
“So!” Harry couldn’t yell or hiss, or swear at them. That was a big no-no with kids.
However, I could see he was coming close to breaking that rule. “Because I’m tired,” he said through a Camp Redwood grin, which was quickly twitching into a grimace.
I think all of us had given up with the fake enthusiasm when our colleagues started to vanish. Now, we were just shells of our former happy selves. “And… uh… did you know that if you ride a horsey at this time, the ghosts will come and get you?”
When a boy opened his mouth, his eyes widening with fright, Harry realized his mistake.
“I mean the nice ghosts! Yeah! The uh, the nice ghosts who haunt..I mean play in these woods? It’s a well-known Camp Redwood legend that ghosts don’t like horse rides. In fact,” his lips curved into a devilish smile now he had several faces staring at him. The kids dropped onto the ground to listen, their hands clasped in their laps. This was the quietest they had been all day. I could understand though. Harry had taken the reins around the campfire telling ghost stories for three nights in a row, and the guy was a damn good storyteller.
With every eye on him, Harry lowered his voice into a whisper. “Do you guys want to know what they do?”
The kids nodded with wide eyes.
“They sneak into unsuspecting cabin’s…”
“Harry.”
Rowan’s voice came from outside in a warning. The window was open, and the guy was standing watch to see if any counsellors came back. Since the only adult had disappeared, he had been appointed leader—and the guy was taking himself a little too seriously.
His warning was valid though. Sometimes Harry’s ghost stories were a little too scary for little kids, who’s Imaginations tended to run wild—especially at night. Olive, my cabin-mate, had to give up her bed for a little girl who was convinced Harry’s depiction of Slenderman, “The tree boy” was going to sneak into her bed and turn her into an apple seed.
“Did I say sneak into cabin’s? I meant dance around the woods…” Harry corrected himself. “And they look for their next unsuspecting victim…”
“Harry!”
“Friend.” Harry swallowed his words when a little boy’s eyes went wide. “I mean they are looking for a friend! So, the point of my story is…”
“Horsey rides get us new friends?” Phoebe wasn’t buying it. I could tell from the slight arch of her brow and her widening smile.
The girl shook dark curls out of her face, smirking. I think it was her pleading eyes which won him over. Because, with a sigh which definitely wasn’t joking around, the guy dropped onto his knees and practically spat at her to climb on his back—and she did, plonking one sparkling shoe on top of the boy’s spine with enough force to send him onto his stomach. I might have been imagining it, but since when were these littles so outlandishly spiteful?
The little girl was grinning. Not because she could ride her “horsey” but because Harry looked like he was going to either wring her neck, or wring his own. Mom had a “talk” before I started here, and she made sure to tell me that if adult authority is nowhere to be seen, little kids will start to act out.
I could definitely call it acting out, but I had spent all day with her several days earlier playing with dolls and having a teddy bear picnic when she admitted she didn’t want to swim in the lake with the other kids. Phoebe had been shy and only spoke to me through her teddy bear, so what had changed?
Could the lack of adults really be scaring the kids that much?
“Miss Josie?”
I wasn’t paying attention, half noticing some kids had just helped themselves, piling chicken nuggets and cookies on plastic plates and hurrying to their seats like I couldn’t see them.
Blinking away brain fog, I found myself face to face with Eli, who was probably my favorite camper.
You’re not supposed to have personal preferences when working with little kids, because your opinions could upset them.
However, it was incredibly hard not to like Eli.
Hiding behind a mop of brown curls, the boy was one of the more vocal kids in the group. Eli said he wanted to be an inventor when he was older, and he wanted to make robots. The kid had asked me if I wanted to see his robot collection, but I was too busy with setting up camp activities. Standing in front of me and clutching his tray, the boy was frowning.
“Josie, I just saw some kids steal chicken nuggets.”
I shrugged, shovelling a large portion on his tray. “Well, you can have some extra too.”
Eli’s smile wasn’t as big as usual. “Where’s Teddy?”
I pretended to be oblivious, hastily adding more nuggets to his tray as if I could keep his mouth shut with extra food. “He’ll be back soon! Teddy is just playing in the woods.”
“No, he’s not.”
At first, I thought I’d heard the boy wrong. The kid wasn’t looking at me, counting his nuggets as usual with the prongs of his plastic fork.
I leaned forward with my best smile. “I’m sorry, what was that, Eli?”
The kid lifted his head with a wide grin. “Can I borrow a knife, Josie?”
“Why do you need a knife?”
Leaning forward, the boy shrugged. “There’s a squirrel caught in a trap,” he said. “I want to put it out of its misery, Miss Josie. It’s in a lot of pain.”
That was… dark.
“Well, I can’t give you a knife…” I trailed off, my gaze finding Harry and the growing line of kids awaiting a horse-ride. “But! How about you go and ask Harry for a piggy-back ride?” I pointed to myself with a forced grin. “I’ll save the squirrel!” And when the boy’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head, I reached out, grasped his hand, and squeezed it as tight as I could. “Eli, we don’t need to do that, okay? I’m sure the squirrel can be saved and I’ll make sure to take it to the vet, okay?”
“But what if it doesn’t need saving?”
I squeezed tighter. “I’ll save it, Eli. I promise.”
Eli didn’t look convinced, but he nodded with a grumble. “Okay.” He said, before twisting around and joining the other kids torturing Harry. Immediately, I left my station—whether Rowan liked it or not—and headed outside to look for this supposedly dying squirrel. That was something we didn’t need. The sky was darkening when I made it into the woods, cotton candy clouds blurring through the thick canopy of trees. Eli said it was near the sign pointing towards the lake. Though I couldn’t see anything. Odd. That thought retracted in my head, however, when I stepped forward, and a squelching sound cut through the silence of my own heavy breaths mixing with insect chitters and nightlife buzzing above me and beneath me. The wet sounding squelch twisted my gut, and when I stared down at the ground, I didn't know what I was expecting.
A squashed squirrel, perhaps? In Eli’s words, the poor thing had been on the edge of death. Though, when I was thinking about it, there were no animal traps around camp. That was basic health and safety. So, what the fuck was I looking at? The bottom of my shoe was caked in dried blood, but it was the thing which was stamped into the dirt which sent my heart into my throat. It looked like an eye.
But looking closer as I lowered myself to the ground, I glimpsed something metallic, something glistening around the pupil. I picked up a stick and prodded it, though the thing didn’t move. It was definitely an eye—the eye of some kind of animal, judging from the pigmentation and the color of the iris.
But it was the metallic pieces around the eye which was throwing me off. Part of a trap, maybe? It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that a poor critter had been ripped apart, and a wild bear had dropped its dinner near the camp—and the metal encasing its eye was most likely pieces of trap.
Peering closer, though, I glimpsed silver slithers in what appeared to be the destroyed nerve caked to my shoe. After scraping most of it off, I caught glistening pieces of blood stained metal catching the late-setting sun. This time, I pinched a piece between my forefinger and thumb. It didn’t look like a bear-trap. The metal itself wasn’t serrated or old. In fact, it was new.
Which begged the question: What was this thing?
Whatever it was, it had started converting what looked like a critter’s eye, before stopping. Was it a virus? When that thought slammed into me, I fell back with a hiss, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“What are you doing?”
I almost jumped out of my skin, diving to my feet.
Carmel was standing behind me, grasping what looked like her sixth or seventh coffee. The girl had been running to and from the coffee machine all day, and I had been silently counting how much caffeine she was consuming. Carmel had been a well put together and fairly popular girl when camp started. She immediately had everyone following her beck and call, all of the boy’s (and girl’s) following her around.
Carmel wasn't straight. She made that clear on the bus to camp, announcing she wasn’t interested in guy’s, and that she had a girlfriend back home. Still though, the guy’s still followed her because... well, she was pretty.
Carmel was my bunk-mate and had woken me up on three separate occasions at 6am to go through the exact same hair and makeup routine. Now though, there was no sign of makeup or even that she had brushed her hair.
Instead of its usual tidy blonde ponytail, Carmel’s curls were tied into raggedy pigtails with ribbons I was sure she had stolen from a camper’s doll. I think what was keeping her going was coffee.
Carmel regarded me with too-wide eyes and a Camp Redwood smile we all knew was fake. She was grasping onto her coffee cup for dear life. “Josie!” she jumped when I jumped, which almost made me laugh. “Rowan’s having an emergency meeting in his cabin,” she said.
“So, whatever you’re doing can wait.”
Her gaze flicked to the ground. “What… are you doing?”
For a brief moment, I considered telling Carmel I may have found what looked like a virus which turned flesh and blood to metal—before I remembered her reaction when a spider had crept into our cabin.
Whatever this thing was, keeping it a secret for now was probably what was best. Making sure I was standing on the thing, I shrugged. “I was looking for the others.”
Carmel cocked her head, before resting her coffee on the ground. “In the dirt?”
“Footprints, Carmel.”
The girl looked confused before shaking her head. “Okay, whatever. Tell the others I’ll be there in a sec, I just need to make sure the kids are okay. We’re putting a movie on for them in the lunch hall, so that will hopefully distract them for maybe two hours.”
I nodded. “Did anyone find a phone?”
“Not with signal.”
“Carmel.” I had to fight back the urge to yell at her to keep her voice down. Kids were curious, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we had some littles peeking into our conversation. “You’re okay.” I said softly.
“I mean, we’re not okay, because yes, things are very.. screwed up right now, but we need to be… optimistic.” I exhaled out a breath, searching for eyes in the dark. I tried to smile, tried to keep up that Camp Redwood façade we were all held hostage by until the last day of camp (According to rule 5 in the Camp Redwood counsellor handbook, all counsellors must retain a smile and a positive attitude. If any counselor is caught making a frowny face, or spreading what we call “unhappiness” we will be forced to send the counselor home).
At this point, I didn’t give a fuck—but part of me didn’t want to scare the little kids.
“No, Josie.” The girl grasped hold of my shoulders with a grin rivalling the joker. “I am so sick of being told to keep smiling, because what is that doing? Three of my cabin-mates are missing! I’m the one left, and Rowan and co expect me to keep up this act? We are fucked!"
She cupped her mouth. “F. U. C. K. E. D. We have zero adults, an unexplainable loss of power every few hours which makes no sense in the middle of nowhere—I mean what the fuck is out there which is sucking that much power, huh? There is no explanation! There should be an explanation. I should be able to think, “oh, yeah! That’s why! But no. Things are happening, and I don’t know why they’re happening. Rowan is trying to force us to act like things are okay —but in reality? He is shitting himself, Josie! We are ALL shitting ourselves!”
I took a step back, keeping hold of her hand. Carmel was trembling, her hands clammy and slimy entangled in mine. “He's just trying to keep the kids from freaking out."
She groaned, tears glistening in her eyes. “Okay, yeah! I’m blaming them because they keep acting like everything is okay—”
“Everything IS okay.” I turned to her with what I hoped was a reassuring smile—knowing damn well about the thing I’d found in the dirt. If that thing could spread, it would have a field day in an enclosed space like a summer camp.
I noticed my own hands which had been touching the thing making contact with Carmel, and dropped my hands, inwardly squirming.
If that thing was a virus, I was already fucked.
Maybe Carmel too.
If it was fast acting, it could explain the counsellor disappearances. I was already putting together a plan in my head as we headed back to the main cabin. We had to put together a search party. Some of us would stay with the kids, while a small group would venture into the woods to try and look for traces of the missing. If I was right, we would find a horror scene in the woods, and yes, that would be the time to panic.
If I was wrong, however, there was still hope.
“Are we going to be okay?”
Carmel’s voice sliced into my thoughts, and I took a moment to drink in the camp around us.
Usually, when the sky was turning twilight, it would be bustling with campers and counselors toasting marshmallows on the fire and gathering around to fall asleep to Harry’s ghost stories. Carmel would be knelt with a bunch of kids, watching a YouTube video they had all insisted on her watching, while Rowan would be hiding behind his book with his knees to his chest, his gaze glued to every page he flicked through, ignoring everyone.
Teddy, making funny faces for kids who were scared, and Connor, handing out plates of burgers and hot dogs. I remembered feeling safe and at home, cosy around the flickering orange of the fire as chatter turned to laughter and white-noise in my head. After the kids went back to their cabins, the group of us would resume positions around the fire, but this time it was more… intimate. With Allison in her cabin, we kind of ignored her rules all together.
Making out happened, because of course it did. Beers stolen from Allison’s mini fridge and raging hormones, as well as late-night skinny dipping in the lake did that. Couples went off into the woods, and we all felt completely comfortable and at home with each other.
Looking around at that moment, I felt sick to my stomach. That feeling was gone.
The feeling of family and familiarity and friendship. What I was looking at now was that same log we had all sat on, now turned on its side—hot dog buns and candy wrappers littering the ground. It was a ghost camp.
I could still see Connor’s jacket slung on the ground, and Lili’s bright pink ray bans sitting on a beer can. Because there were no adults to yell at us to clean up after ourselves. I was frowning at the skeleton of the fire when Carmel nudged me. “Hey.” Her voice was shaking slightly. “Josie? You didn’t answer my question.” Carmel wanted me to be the voice of reason, and I wasn’t that. I was just as scared as her.
There was only so much I could sugar-coat, and I gave up doing that after the third counsellor disappeared. All I could offer her was forced optimism.
“Yes.” I said. “Just keep the kids busy, alright?”
“Right.”
When I was twisting around and power-walking to Rowan’s cabin, I shouted over my shoulder, “Give them some of those animal crackers!”
“What animal crackers?”
I turned to elaborate, but Carmel was gone.
When I finally got to Rowan’s cabin, I was sweating through my shirt, and had an idea of what I was going to tell the others. It was… a thing. Which could be considered a disease or a virus—so it was vital that we split into two groups; half of us would search for the others, while the others would look for anything to get in contact with the outside world. An emergency landline, laptop, or cell phone.
I did have one problem, which was lack of evidence. All which was left from the thing I’d found was stuck to my foot. The rest of it was buried in the dirt. It was too dark to search for it, and we would be wasting time doing so.
All of that was in my mind and tangled on my tongue, one single string of incomprehensible gibberish I wasn’t even sure was English, when I stepped into Rowan’s cabin, where four sets of eyes met mine. Olive, cross legged on the floor with her arms folded, Harry, pacing up and down with a brand new bruise blooming under his eye, courtesy of Eleanor almost poking his eyes out—and Rowan himself sitting on top bunk, his legs swinging off of the side.
The guy wasn’t built to be our leader, originally being the laziest of our group, opting for sitting in a tree with a book, rather than helping set up camp activities. Yet he had become our default guy in charge because he so happened to be wearing the head counsellor hat when Allison disappeared. Admittedly, it suited him, the bright red of the cap contrasted his dark curls under a late setting sun through the back window, setting strands of straying hair on fire.
The hat was a little too big for his head, though, slipping over his eyes.
Rowan looked like a divorced father of two, dark circles bruising his eyes, and a very “dad-like” scowl curling on his lips.
With a clipboard pressed to his chest, and a pen he was chewing on, the boy resembled a grown man who had just caught his daughter coming in after curfew. “Josie.” Spitting the pen’s lid out of his mouth, he scribbled something down. I had no doubt he was tracking my attendance for these stupid crisis meetings. His eyes were wild, scanning me for answers. “Where the fuck is Carmel?”
I shut the door behind me, leaning against it with my arms folded. “So, we can swear now?”
“Yes.” Rowan rolled his eyes. “There are no kids here, so go crazy,” he pointed at me with the pen. “Carmel. Where is she?”
“Keeping the kids busy,” Callan’s muffled voice came from the bottom bunk. I could barely see the guy lying on his stomach, his face stuffed into a pillow. “It was my idea to play Shrek for them, but the little shits said they haven’t seen it,” the boy lifted his head, his lips carved into a scowl. “I’m sorry, am I tripping? Everyone’s seen Shrek! Do these kids expect the Minecraft movie?”
“They don’t like that, either,” Harry stopped pacing the cabin. “Eleanor looked at me like I was crazy when I asked if she liked it."
“Fortnite, too.” Olive said, a cushion pressed to her chest. “I suggested playing it a few days ago, and like, zero kids knew what it was.”
“Six counsellors are missing,” Rowan raised his voice over the other’s chatter. “And you’re questioning what games they like?” His eyes found mine once more. “So, Carmel is with the kids? You’re absolutely sure of it?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I just saw her five minutes ago.”
“Great.” Rowan said, sarcastically. “I’m sure she won’t go missing under mysterious circumstances.”
“Stop.” Olive shot him a glare, throwing a cushion in his face. “I told you. They’re probably lost—- or maybe they went to get help?”
“We’ve all been trained to know every inch of these woods,” Rowan catapulted the cushion right back at her. “They’re not lost.”
“Well, where are they?!” Callan sat up, bringing his knees to his chest. I had never seen the guy looked this vulnerable. “Allison made sense. She probably had other duties, and left us to look after the kids. But six counselors? All of them disappearing—- our phone signal completely cutting out, electricity cutting off, not once, but twice? What is even sucking all of our power?”
“I got the emergency generator working,” Olive raised her arm. “Connor and I managed it before…” she trailed off.
“Before Connor disappeared.” Callan finished for her. “And before him, it was Joey, Lily, Mira, Yuri, Noah, and Teddy. Which isn’t a fucking coincidence,” he shot Rowan a look, who glared down at his lap. I could tell the boy didn’t want to lead all of us, come up with plans and answer questions we desperately needed answering. His job was to look after us, as well as the littles, and so far, he was doing a pretty good job. I could tell by his expression that he thought the opposite, but he had managed to keep the kids from finding out about something as sinister as someone actively kidnapping counsellors.
He made sure they were fed, entertained, and safe watching a movie—while we were scared for our lives. Rowan was keeping up the façade no matter how scared he was. The boy dropped his head into his lap with a sigh. It looked like he might fall asleep before he slammed the clipboard into his face to wake himself up.
Nobody wanted to admit what Callan was saying, but we were all definitely thinking it. “This was planned.” Callan continued.
“Someone out here is fucking with us, very clearly trying to freak us out. Now they've got six of us. ” He spread out his arms. “How long until one of the littles gets taken, huh? A bunch of 18 year olds aren’t going to satisfy them, so what about when they start taking campers? We are in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere with a serial kidnapper on the loose, and did we really just leave fifteen kids in the care of a girl who thought Australia was in England?”
“In Carmel’s defence, she was black-out drunk when she said that,” Olive murmured.
“Voice down!” Rowan hissed. “Do you want to scare them?!” His gaze flicked to me. “Did you do a headcount during dinner?”
I nodded. “Fifteen kids all accounted for. Ten are in the lunch hall, and five girls are in Cassie’s cabin playing Operation.”
“All day?” Olive spoke up. “Weren’t they playing that this morning? I tried to get into their cabin to give them breakfast, but they just shooed me away and locked the door.”
“Fuck.” Rowan ran his fingers down his face. “Alright, I’ll go and see what’s going on with them. Knowing Cassie and her friends, they’re probably zonked out on stolen candy. When all of the kids are accounted for in the lunch cabin, we gather outside.”
I swallowed, speaking up. “I actually wanted to talk to you guys about something.”
Rowan lifted his head, jutting the edge of the clipboard into his chin. “Go on…”
“I found something?” I pulled a face. “I mean, think I’ve found something?”
I wasn't sure how to explain to a dwindling group of exhausted teenagers that there may be something even more terrifying than potential kidnappers out there. Four blank faces started back at me, and Rowan leaned forward with a frown. “Like, in general? Josie, we don’t have time to go foraging.”
“You could call it a lead,” I said. “But I need your eyes to find it.”
“Uh-huh. But what is it?”
Thinking back to what exactly I had seen, I had no idea how to describe it. “It’s better if I just… showed you.”
Rowan looked sceptical, but nodded. “Alright. Josie comes with me. We’ll check out Allison’s cabin again to look for an emergency line, and you can show me whatever this ‘thing’ is you’ve found. Then we’ll escort Cassie and the other girl’s to the lunch cabin. Every camper needs an escort from now on. The rest of you? Act normal. If the kids see you freaking out, they will also freak out—and we need to keep up morale.” The boy pointed to Olive. “Olive, you sit in with the kids and look after them. Callan, check out the emergency generator. Harry, the kids see you as a playground ride, so use that to your advantage. Offer them horse rides if they’re scared. And with the ghost stories, it’s making it worse. Give them piggybacks.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
Rowan cleared his throat. “We all keep up appearances. If the others turn up, after getting high or… I don’t know, having an orgy in the woods—- I will fucking kill them.” The way he smiled through his teeth, jumping off the bunk, his toes primed like a wild animal, I knew he wasn’t joking. If this was a well-constructed prank the other counselors were playing, I had no doubt Rowan would rip them apart for leaving him as a reluctant leader. To my surprise, the others wandered off with their tasks.
I watched Rowan lift up his pillow and pull out a pack of animal crackers, ripping open the bag and pouring the contents into his mouth. He caught my eye, crunching through mini animal crackers. “I didn’t have lunch,” he said through a mouthful.
I couldn’t help feeling a sense of relief as we headed across camp, Rowan in front of me, while I lagged behind.
“So, what’s the plan?” I caught up to him, almost tripping over a log.
The guy didn’t turn around. “I am completely winging it,” he said through a choked laugh. “I have no idea what I’m doing, and if I’m honest? I just want to go home, dude. I haven’t looked after this many kids in my life, and if I have to smile one more time as a little brat, I am going to fucking lose my mind.” He heaved out a breath. “I am making this up as I go along.”
I laughed that time. “That’s… comforting.”
“Yeah?” He turned to shoot me a grin. “Well, rest assured I am just about as scared—if not more scared than you,” as we stopped in front of Cassie’s cabin, his gaze found mine. “Is it me…” he said softly, “Or does the lunch cabin seem quiet.”
He was right. The windows were dark when they should have been illuminated by the TV screen. Instead of answering, I stepped in front of him, grasping hold of the cabin door. “Cassie?” I knocked three times. “Girl’s, are you okay in there? It’s Josie and Rowan.” I tried the door, and it slid open. Shooting a look at the boy behind me, I turned back to the door. “We’re coming in, okay?”
“Wait!”
Cassie squeaked from inside. “But he’s not finished!”
Ignoring the coil of dread unravelling in my gut, I forced the door open and stepped into unusually milky white light which flooded the cabin. The first thing I saw was eight-year-old Cassie, sitting cross legged with her back to me. She was sitting in a circle with the other girls, no doubt playing their game.
When I stepped closer, however, I noticed something pooling across the wooden floor. It must have been juice or water that they had spilled. I took another step, but this time, clammy fingers wrapped around my wrist and yanked me back. Rowan didn't speak, but his eyes were elsewhere. Initially, they had been drinking in the cabin before they found oblivion entirely. I heard his breath start to accelerate, his grip tightening on my wrist.
I had half a mind to pull away, before I saw the body shaped carcass the girls were sitting around. In the dim light of the cabin, it used to be a person. Teddy. I could still see parts of an identity, freckled cheeks and eyes which were still open, still staring at the sky.
But that was where the similarities to the missing counsellor ended. The thing which used to be Teddy was more of a shell, a scooped out thing resembling a human body. What sent me stumbling backwards, my mouth open in a silent scream, was the almost surgical efficiency of each organ's removal, like it really was a game of operation. His heart, lungs, and intestines were in one pile-- while his brain was cupped between little Cassie's bloody hands— and when my gaze found the little girl, Nina, hiding behind dark curly hair, I was seeing what looked like a toy robot’s head in her hands. In my head, I was thinking about the eye with the metallic pieces glittering around its pupil, and something turned in my gut.
Did I find a human eye?
I was staring at the crevice inside the boy's skull, and the boxes of surgical equipment piled on the girl's bunks, when Rowan finally pulled me back, and I was stumbling straight onto my ass. "We need to go." Rowan spoke through a croak. Cassie’s words rattled in my head. Teddy, I thought.
Teddy wasn’t finished.
"Josie. Get up. Now!" My head was spinning, and I was sure I'd thrown up. I didn’t even realize we had managed to stumble from the girl’s cabin before cool air grazed my face, tickling my cheeks. Something wet and warm, and lumpy was spattering the front of my shirt.
Before I could coerce words, the boy was pulling me to my feet, and I was seeing stars in my eyes, blinking brightly. When the two of us started forwards in a run, Rowan stopped abruptly. I followed his gaze to find several kids surrounding his cabin, where Harry, Olive and Callan were. Maybe I was hallucinating, but Eleanor and Phoebe, both of whom wielding weapons where I had no idea where they had gotten them—looked… taller? Rowan didn’t waste time, dragging me back. “Allison’s cabin.” He spoke in cry which became a sob, pulling me across camp, stumbling over rocky ground.
“We need a phone. Fuck, we need a phone. We need a phone.” Rowan was struggling to stand, occasionally bending over and choking up dust.
“They were playing Operation."
Literal operation.
“But they’re just kids!” I choked out.
Little kids, who had surgically removed every organ inside Teddy’s body.
Little kids, who were hunting the other counsellors down, and would surely be coming for us.
Allison’s cabin was thankfully further into the woods. When we were safe inside and Rowan was locking the door, I dry heaved several times, unable to get the sight of glistening gore splattering the cabin floor from my mind. “Josie.” Rowan was already tearing apart the cabin. “Work with me here, okay? We don’t… we don’t have fucking time to freak out, or to barf—we need to help. Now.” Rowan was almost in tears, and when he hit the ground on his knees, I took over. I searched Allison’s desk first. Nothing of importance, just documents and invoices. Digging through her draw, there was still nothing. We were running out of time.
Abandoning the desk, I went through her suitcase and bags. When I was crawling under her bed to try and find a weapon, Rowan hissed out. “Wait.” When I turned to him, he was still kneeling, but his foot was clamping down on a loose plank. The guy didn’t hesitate, pulling at the loose plank, which, to my confusion, revealed what looked to me like a trap door.
Rowan turned to me. “You’re kidding.”
I could only stare at the trap door revealing stone steps. He peered down, his voice echoing. “Allison has a fucking secret bunker?”
His lips curved into a surprisingly childish grin which took me off guard. “Oh, wow, that’s so cooooool!”
Lifting my head at the sound of loud squealing, I glimpsed a group of littles led by Eleanor stalking towards us. Eleanor had a hostage. Harry. And with the way she was sticking the blade of a scary looking knife to his throat, I figured she meant business.
Their height difference was almost comical. The eighteen year old guy had to hunch over so the little girl could successfully keep him prisoner. Behind them in the trees, I could see something illuminating the dark, an electric blue light bathing their faces.
So, that was there the power was going.
But what the fuck were these eight-year-old’s doing?
“Josie!” Rowan hissed from down below. He had already climbed down.
I joined him, struggling down the stone steps, before replacing the loose plank. If these kids were as smart as I thought, it wouldn’t take them long to realize the loose plank—also a trap door. Allison’s bunker was more of a control room. There were multiple screens lit up, a chair in front of a working MacBook. The phone-line was cut. But that didn’t make sense.
The kids were unaware of the bunker, so who cut the phone lines? Rowan was on the laptop, struggling to get through the password protection, so I turned my attention to piles of cardboard boxes.
When I opened them, I found myself staring at animal crackers.
There were hundreds of them, packed on top of each other. Looking further, digging through the boxes, I found a piece of old crumpled paper which looked ancient.
REGARDING PROJECT SPEARHEAD SUBJECTS:
PLEASE DO NOT INGEST UNLESS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY. IF MULTIPLE SUBJECTS INGEST, PLEASE USE SELF DESTRUCT.
ONLY USE IN CASES SUCH AS IMMINENT DESTRUCTION TO THE PLANET/THREAT OF NUCLEAR WAR.
(PLEASE CONTACT FAMILIES IN ADVANCE. MAKE SURE TO INGEST WITH WATER TO AVOID NEUROLOGICAL SYMPTOMS SUCH AS PSYCHOSIS, EXTREME VIOLENCE. PLEASE APPROACH SUBJECTS WITH CAUTION.
Something ice cold slithered down my spine.
Abandoning the boxes, I searched through a cabinet filled with files which were crumbling apart from age. I picked one at random and flicked through it.
Eleanor Summer’s.
Sex: Female.
DOB: 08/05/1977.
Initially, I thought I was reading the dates wrong. But then, with my heart in my throat, I was grasping for other files.
Eli Evermore.
Sex: Male.
'DOB: 08/03/1979.
“Rowan.” I managed to get out through a breath.
“Mm?”
“They’re not children.”
The boy rubbed his eyes, frowning. His eyes were half lidded, almost confused. “Huh?”
“Eleanor.” I whispered. “Is forty five years old.”
He nodded slowly, turning back to the laptop. “How do you spell… documents? I’m looking for digital versions but I can’t find any.”
“You don’t know how to spell documents?”
“It’s been a hard day.” The boy whined, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry.
Whatever I was going to say was choked in the back of my throat, when a loud bang sounded from above, the sounds of childish giggling coming through the floorboards. But the laughter didn’t sound like little kids. No, it sounded like teenager’s who were acting like little kids. I stared at the boxes of animal crackers, and then at the file confirming Eleanor’s real age.
My own words shuddered through me, and I remembered finding Teddy’s dismembered carcass in Cassie’s cabin. When I had caught her gaze, the little girl didn’t look scared, and somehow, her fingers wrapped around the scalpel looked just right.
Like the little bitch knew exactly what she was doing.
“Helloooo?” Harry’s voice was a hysterical giggle. “Olly, Olly, Oxen freeee!”
“Are you in heeeeeeere?” Carmel joined in. I could hear their footsteps above, dancing across the room.
Clamping my hand over my mouth, I dragged my knees to my chest and prayed they weren’t smart enough to figure out we were right underneath them.
Knowing the truth about them, though? I wasn’t counting on it.
….
That was an hour ago.
We’re still stuck down here, and I can get a connection here—thank god. For some reason, Alison has blocked all social media. We need help. We’re at Camp Redwood, and these kids ARE NOT KIDS.
Whatever Project Spearhead is was designed to keep them here.
The phone-line is cut so we can’t get help from whoever was helping Allison. I am counting on you guys.
Get us out of here!

It is important to note that this article is only a thought experiment for the purposes of reconsidering our implicit assumptions and societal conceptions of the necessities for civilization and what is “normal” behavior for humans. In the article about mysticism I pointed out that I was a psychotherapist not a theologian. Here I need to point out that I am not an economist either. This thought experiment is not advocating for any kind of specific new political or economic reality. Instead it is a way to reconsider the things we take for granted and meditate on new ideas that might allow us to conceive of a healthier and more stable society.
​
If we didn’t have gold what would money look like?
​
If we didnt have nonperishable precious metals like gold and silver, what would money look like. There are not many other goods we can make hold value in such a small and convenient package like gold, platinum, and silver to a lesser extent do. All the noble metals have a high luster, malleability, and do not spoil with age. How would society store value without them?
​
Well there are a couple examples of how money developed in places without gold. My favorite is an island called Yap where there was little to no money. Instead native Yapese used 20ft tall limestone disks that weighed hundreds of pounds. So how did this money work? How do you put a 200 lb stone in a vending machine or slide it across a bar?
​
The Yapese never moved the stones they used as money. Instead they kept an oral and collective ledger of who owned what stones. Money that can’t fit in your wallet might seem like a crazy idea, but think of how your debit card works. There is a collective ledger somewhere out there that changes every time you slide your card even though no physical money is moved.
​
How did Yap money work?
​
On the island of Yap, the acquisition and distribution of rai stones were closely tied to prestige and social merit. The process of awarding rai stones was based on various factors that reflected an individual’s status, achievements, and contributions to the community.
​
The primary means of acquiring rai stones was through social recognition and acknowledgment of an individual’s accomplishments. These accomplishments could include successful leadership, acts of bravery, or notable achievements in various fields such as agriculture, craftsmanship, or diplomacy. The more esteemed and respected an individual was within the community, the higher the likelihood of receiving rai stones.
​
The recognition and awarding of rai stones were often carried out through public ceremonies and gatherings. These events provided a platform for the community to acknowledge and celebrate the achievements of an individual. The stones were typically presented by influential community leaders or elders who acted as the arbiters of social merit.
​
It’s important to note that the awarding of rai stones was not a purely individualistic pursuit but rather a collective decision that reflected the consensus of the community. The opinions and judgments of community members, particularly those in positions of authority or with significant influence, played a crucial role in determining the social merit of an individual and their eligibility to receive rai stones.
​
The rai stones bestowed upon an individual were not meant to be hoarded or accumulated solely for personal wealth. Instead, they served as symbols of prestige and social standing. The possession of rai stones demonstrated an individual’s contributions to the community and their ability to garner respect and admiration.
​
The Yapese monetary system served as tangible representations of honor and status, reinforcing the social fabric and common good of Yapese society.
​
So in answer to the original question “How could society store value without gold?” We would store it through a reputation system rewarding benevolence, generosity and innovation. The people who gave back to society the most would be awarded the most value in the form of reputation, not by how many precious metals they owned.
​
How did gold change our conceptions of society and culture?
​
Gold has long fascinated humanity with its allure and intrinsic non-perishable value. The presence of gold on Earth almost did not happen at all. If there were a few changes to astrophysical geometry you may not have been able to buy gold jewelry in the store. So, why is there gold on earth?
​
The symbolism of gold in mythology usually relates to to the concept of the Self, a central archetype in Jungian psychology representing the totality of the psyche. Because the ancients associated gold with being so rare and so precious, it came to represent knowledge of the authentic and hiddens self. Fair tales that have to do with reclaiming a lost treasure are metaphors for self discovery and reclaiming lost parts of our identity. In fairy tales, gold often appears in the form of a golden key, a golden crown, or a golden apple, serving as a powerful symbol of the transformative potential of self-knowledge. These objects are typically guarded by mythical creatures or hidden in remote locations, emphasizing the arduous nature of the journey towards self-understanding.
​
The origins of gold as an element on planet earth trace back to the formation of the universe itself. In the earliest moments following the Big Bang, only light elements such as hydrogen and helium were present. It was within the cores of massive stars, through the process of stellar nucleosynthesis, that heavier elements like gold began to take shape. These elements were forged through the fusion of lighter nuclei in the intense heat and pressure of stellar environments.
​
As these massive stars reached the end of their lives, they supernovae explosions. These scattered their noble metal enriched contents into space. The remnants of these supernovae, containing elements like gold, spread across the cosmos in the form of dust and gas. This dust and gas later condensed into rocky masses of meteors that had high concentrations of gold.
​
The earth itself almost had no gold. While the primordial Earth held minuscule amounts of gold, it was not until later stages of our planet’s evolution that the precious metal became concentrated enough for us to mine or value them. The late heavy bombardment period, around 4 billion years ago, witnessed a barrage of meteoritic impacts bombarding the Earth’s surface. These meteorites, originating from various sources within the solar system, carried with them a wealth of elements, including gold.
​
If it was not for this coincidental bombardment of asteroids there never would have been enough gold on earth for you to wear gold jewelry. There certainly would not have been enough for us to use as money, let alone build a monetary system around. So what would have happened if we never associated gold with money, power, or value?
​
Why is gold associated with money and currency
Gold is durable, divisible, and portable, making it an ideal medium of exchange. Additionally, gold has intrinsic value due to its luster malleability and non reactivity to other elements, which further contributed to its use as a form of currency.
​
The use of metal coins as a form of money emerged around 600 BCE in ancient Lydia (present-day Turkey). These coins were made from precious metals like gold, silver, and bronze, and their value was determined by their weight and purity. Gold, due to its scarcity and durability, became a preferred choice for coinage.
​
Over time, gold became widely accepted as a standard for money. Its scarcity, divisibility, portability, and resistance to corrosion made it an ideal medium of exchange. Gold coins became a trusted and standardized unit of value in many ancient civilizations, including the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, and Persians.
​
In medieval Europe, goldsmiths played a crucial role in the evolution of money and debt. People entrusted their gold and other valuable assets to goldsmiths for safekeeping. In return, the goldsmiths issued receipts, which could be used as a claim to the deposited gold. These receipts gradually started circulating as a form of paper money or representative money. This practice laid the foundation for early banking systems and the issuance of paper-based instruments representing value.
​
The concept of the gold standard gained prominence during the 19th and early 20th centuries. Under the gold standard, the value of a country’s currency was tied to a fixed amount of gold. Governments held gold reserves to back their currency, and individuals could exchange paper money for gold at a predetermined rate. The gold standard provided stability and confidence in the currency, as the money supply was limited by the availability of gold.
​
The gold standard era began to decline during the 20th century, particularly after World War I. The need for increased flexibility in monetary policy, and the costs associated with maintaining gold reserves led many countries to move away from the gold standard. Gradually, most countries shifted to fiat money, where the value of the currency is not backed by a physical commodity but rather by the trust and confidence in the government issuing it. This meant that even though there was scarcity and competition for money like there had been for gold, money was no longer backed by anything real.
​
Put simply, even though we do not use gold as currency or the basis for the economy any more, gold still informs our ideas about money and power. Even new forms of money like crypto currencies and NFTs are based on these old notions of scarcity that come from our ancient relationship to gold. Our ideas about money, debt scarcity and our relationship to power are informed greatly by the function that gold has played in our economy.
​
What does money without gold look like?
In isolated or preindustrial societies, without gold, people had an understanding that resources were meant to be shared and distributed evenly. When a need arose in society others met the need with gifts or loans. The understanding in these cultures was that safety was found in generosity and compassion not hoarded material goods. They took care of others because when they need help others will take care of them. Social merit functioned like a kind of insurance.
​
In these barter, communal, and gift economies power does not become the most precious resource. Instead reputation and social merit become the most precious resources. Because wealth and value cannot be hoarded materially then society allows for individuals to accrue value by being useful, inventive and generous. These systems reward people who innovate and live compassionately because societal regard becomes the most important resource, not electronic debt or precious metals.
​
This is because things like food, clothing and tools often degrade and lose value over time. There is no way to horde wealth because all things that contain value slowly lose that value if they are hoarded. When there is no way to horde wealth with precious metals or an electronic debt ledger, then everything is depreciating all the time. In these cultures money and value are always trending back to equality because everything is losing value all the time.
​
People are incentivized to share and live communally in gift economies because clout and reputation become more valuable than any good or service. These systems are empowering because when needs arise society is naturally incentivized to meet those needs not ignore them. Material wealth is always decreasing in value so social wealth has more value. Value is stored in the social ledger of reputation not a material ledger of debt.
​
In debt and precious metal based systems value is disempowering because wealth tends to snowball. The people with more money have access to more power and likely use that power to get even more money ad infinitum. In these systems society is incentivized to ignore others’ problems because the endless competition is for non-perishable money that increases in value, not reputation for being a benefit to society. Actually, in this system other people’s problems are a GOOD thing for me because they mean others have less power and are less likely to get the money we are all in competition for.
​
Why does the non-perishable nature of precious metals like gold lead to scarcity, competition and inequality?
The scarcity of precious metals allowed individuals and institutions to accumulate and hoard wealth, creating disparities in the distribution of resources. The accumulation of gold and other precious metals became a means of showcasing one’s economic power and social status. This concentration of wealth in the hands of a few individuals or entities often led to economic inequality, with limited access to resources for the majority of the population. It also led to imperial wars and conflict. This happens when the purpose of a society becomes hoarding power instead of building sustainable or equitable systems.
​
Is there an alternative system?
What did non industrial societies do before there was gold?
Barter and gift economies operate on different principles that can have positive psychological and environmental effects. In a barter economy, individuals engage in direct exchange, which fosters social interaction and builds relationships within communities. The act of bartering requires individuals to negotiate and understand each other’s needs, creating a sense of cooperation and interdependence.
​
Gift economies, where goods and services are given without the expectation of an immediate return, promote social cohesion and reinforce communal bonds. By focusing on reciprocity and sharing, gift economies prioritize the well-being of the community as a whole rather than individual accumulation of wealth. This can contribute to a sense of psychological well-being and social harmony.
​
Moreover, both barter and gift economies can be more environmentally sustainable compared to the hoarding of precious metals or debt based systems. These systems rely on the utilization of resources within the community, promoting local production and reducing the environmental impact of long-distance trade. In debt based systems production is outsourced to the cheapest place where the workers have the least power.
​
While the nonperishable nature of precious metals like gold has shaped a scarcity-based money system conducive to wealth hoarding, alternative economic systems such as barter and gift economies offer psychological and environmental advantages. These systems promote social cohesion, reduce economic disparities, and foster sustainable resource utilization.
Key Characteristics of a Gift Economy:
​
Gift Circulation:
The primary mode of exchange in a gift economy is the circulation of gifts. People give goods, services, or resources to others without an explicit agreement for immediate return or compensation. The act of giving is motivated by social bonds, altruism, and the desire to contribute to the well-being of others.
​
Social Relationships and Trust:
Gift economies are deeply rooted in social relationships. Trust and reciprocity play a vital role in sustaining the system. Gifts are not seen as isolated transactions but rather as a way to build and maintain social connections within a community or group.
​
Non-Monetary Transactions:
Unlike traditional market economies where goods and services are exchanged for money, a gift economy operates outside the realm of formalized monetary transactions. The value of gifts is not determined by their market price or exchange value but rather by the relationships and meaning attached to them.
​
Abundance Mindset:
A gift economy often operates on the assumption of abundance rather than scarcity. It is based on the belief that there are enough resources and goods to meet the needs of individuals and the community as a whole. The act of giving is seen as a way to create and reinforce a sense of abundance and well-being.
​
Social Obligations and Prestige:
In gift economies, there are social obligations and expectations associated with giving and receiving. Individuals are motivated to contribute and give back to the community, as failing to do so can lead to reputational consequences. The act of giving and generosity often brings prestige, respect, and social recognition within the community.
​
Reciprocity and Sharing:
While direct reciprocity is not expected or demanded in a gift economy, there is a general understanding of the importance of reciprocity over time. Recipients of gifts may feel an obligation to reciprocate or share their own gifts with others in the future, creating a cycle of giving and receiving.
​
In Conclusion:
Economic systems that prioritize collaboration, generosity, and a departure from the notions of individuality, competition, ego, and scarcity can indeed contribute to mental well-being and foster a more harmonious society. One such alternative economic concept is the idea of gift economies, which emphasizes the practice of generosity and the exchange of resources without the expectation of immediate reciprocation.
​
What’s the point?
​
We assume that ways that our culture and systems works are the only ways it can work. This can limit our intuition, creativity, and stifle our ability to imagine a better world. What if those asteroids had missed our planet billions of years ago and dumped that gold into the black void of space? Would our culture or monetary system look anything like it does now? Again the point of this article is not to change the monetary system. Instead it is to reflect about how and why we assign value and purpose in our lives and culture. It is a reflection on what money means to a society and the way those implicit assumptions affect our psychology and well being.
​
Many people misquote the bible that “money is the root of all evil” however that is not what it says. The quote is that the “love” of money is the root of all evil. We all interact with money daily but rarely think about what it is and that the way we think about money changes the role it plays in our lives and how we behave.
​
We often talk about values in an abstract and hollow way in politics, religion and identity. We seldom talk or think about what value itself actually is. How do we decide what has worth to us and what doesn’t. These assumptions about what is valuable and good and what the point of our societies should be is often based on outdated and unhealthy assumptions it does not occur to us to reconsider. By moving away from a mindset that prioritizes individual accumulation, gift economies encourage a sense of collective responsibility and interconnectedness. This shift in perspective can have positive effects on mental health, promoting a sense of belonging, trust, and reduced feelings of isolation, paranoia or competition.
​
Most of the patients that I see suffer from a profound sense of separation and disconnection. Our civilization would benefit from assuming the intrinsic value of all beings and the importance of meeting collective needs rather than amassing individual wealth. Not just in economics but in our lives we should prioritize collaboration, generosity, and move away from the emphasis on individuality, competition, ego, and scarcity. What a person or society values is one of the best indicators of who they are. Reflect on where you unconsciously place value and what that says about you. We have limited time on earth and it is important to stay in touch with what we want the purpose of our life to be. Where does your worth lie?
​
Read more articles like this one @ GetTherapyBirmingham.com

In hindsight, I should have listened to the kill-bill alarm bells in my head when eight-year-old Cassie announced she and her cabin mates were going to skip out on camp activities and play Operation instead.
Though it’s not like I didn’t have things on my mind. Seven counsellors had gone missing—along with our head counsellor who was supposed to be taking care of us.
It started out fairly normal. I mean, one or two counselors wasn’t bad, right?
Lily and Joey had been drowning in sexual tension for a while, so nobody was surprised when they sneaked into the woods for what I could only guess was the most uncomfortable sex ever. But then they didn’t come back.
Teddy and Yuri went to look for them, and then they too also disappeared. It was almost like a wild animal was lying in wait for another unsuspecting teenager to cross its path.
With six of us left, I was definitely freaking out.
I wasn’t expecting summer camp to be like this. I did consider working in my local Sephora, but mom had a preference—and whether I was eighteen years old or not, she was getting her way. So, it was goodbye civilization, and hello Canadian wilderness.
There were fifteen kids queued up in front of me for lunch, and I was having a hard time keeping that optimistic Camp Redwood smile.
I couldn’t help constantly counting how many hours it had been since the latest disappearance, Connor.
He was supposed to be helping with getting the emergency generator going, after the electricity sizzled out.
The boy was gone an hour later. This was happening fast. Whatever was going on with the counsellors was burning through all of us. Would it happen to me?
I had seen so many TV shows and movies set in a summer camp where every camper and counsellor was doomed to die in the grossest way possible. Was that going to happen to us?
I tightened my grip around the stupid ladle I had found myself stirring, a giant pot of chocolate syrup. Watching watery chocolate drip from the edge, I felt nauseous. Of all the summer camp’s mom had to send me to, it had to be the one with vanishing counsellors and zero adult authority. Which meant we were the authority. Twelve teenagers who came to relax and babysit a bunch of little kids before college.
We had to put on brave faces and pretend everything was absolutely fine—and we weren’t all terrified out of our fucking minds.
At the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Harry offering piggybacks to a bunch of little kids, with one of the littles, Eleanor, wrapping her arms around his neck and squealing.
From the look on the boy’s face, he wanted to stop. It was hard to keep a façade when reality was becoming harder and harder to bear. Abandoning his hat completely, Harry was dripping with sweat, trying to twist his lips into the Camp Redwood grin. But looking closer, as he galloped across the cabin with Eleanor holding on for dear life, the guy was ready to collapse. I didn’t blame him.
Entertaining the kids was supposed to be Teddy’s assignment—and he was who knows where. I had taken over lunch duties for Lily, who had joined the long list of the missing.
Harry was supposed to be joining the search party for the missing councellors, but had ended up becoming the little’s personal punching bag.
When I first met him, Harry Carlisle had been the kid who sat on the side-lines and offered sarcastic remarks and crude jokes. Now, he had been reduced to a playground ride the kids pretended didn’t have an off switch.
He had enjoyed maybe the first two rides to raise morale, but now I could see the strain in his eyes. “Ow!” Harry winced when the little girl’s fingers prodded at his eyes. “Hey! Eleanor, not my eyes!” He was dangerously close to toppling over, though managed to catch his footing, ordering all of them off of his back. “Horse Rides are over!” He cupped his mouth, shouting across the cabin when a group of kids surrounded him with equally terrifying faces. Harry backed away and threw his hands up. “Come on, guys, my back isn’t built for all of you!”
“Horsey!” The kids shouted back in a cacophony of giggles.
It was 10 against one.
Against two, if I got involved. Which wasn’t going to happen. There was no way I was putting effort into play-fighting a bunch of eight-year-olds. Harry shot me a hopeful look, though I pretended not to see, busying myself with slightly burned nuggets.
Running his fingers through thick strands of sandy colored hair, Harry pulled a face when a little girl, Phoebe, was brave enough to step forward.
“No.” Harry shook his head, squeezing the front of his counsellor shirt practically glued to him. The temperature still hadn’t let up, and it was heading towards 8PM. Night-time, I thought dizzily. It was almost bedtime, and still no adults. “I refuse to surrender,” He told her. “Phoebe, I am not joking around when I’m saying my back is hurting. We’ve been playing horsey’s for two hours.”
“So?”
“So!” Harry couldn’t yell or hiss, or swear at them. That was a big no-no with kids.
However, I could see he was coming close to breaking that rule. “Because I’m tired,” he said through a Camp Redwood grin, which was quickly twitching into a grimace.
I think all of us had given up with the fake enthusiasm when our colleagues started to vanish. Now, we were just shells of our former happy selves. “And… uh… did you know that if you ride a horsey at this time, the ghosts will come and get you?”
When a boy opened his mouth, his eyes widening with fright, Harry realized his mistake.
“I mean the nice ghosts! Yeah! The uh, the nice ghosts who haunt..I mean play in these woods? It’s a well-known Camp Redwood legend that ghosts don’t like horse rides. In fact,” his lips curved into a devilish smile now he had several faces staring at him. The kids dropped onto the ground to listen, their hands clasped in their laps. This was the quietest they had been all day. I could understand though. Harry had taken the reins around the campfire telling ghost stories for three nights in a row, and the guy was a damn good storyteller.
With every eye on him, Harry lowered his voice into a whisper. “Do you guys want to know what they do?”
The kids nodded with wide eyes.
“They sneak into unsuspecting cabin’s…”
“Harry.”
Rowan’s voice came from outside in a warning. The window was open, and the guy was standing watch to see if any counsellors came back. Since the only adult had disappeared, he had been appointed leader—and the guy was taking himself a little too seriously.
His warning was valid though. Sometimes Harry’s ghost stories were a little too scary for little kids, who’s Imaginations tended to run wild—especially at night. Olive, my cabin-mate, had to give up her bed for a little girl who was convinced Harry’s depiction of Slenderman, “The tree boy” was going to sneak into her bed and turn her into an apple seed.
“Did I say sneak into cabin’s? I meant dance around the woods…” Harry corrected himself. “And they look for their next unsuspecting victim…”
“Harry!”
“Friend.” Harry swallowed his words when a little boy’s eyes went wide. “I mean they are looking for a friend! So, the point of my story is…”
“Horsey rides get us new friends?” Phoebe wasn’t buying it. I could tell from the slight arch of her brow and her widening smile.
The girl shook dark curls out of her face, smirking. I think it was her pleading eyes which won him over. Because, with a sigh which definitely wasn’t joking around, the guy dropped onto his knees and practically spat at her to climb on his back—and she did, plonking one sparkling shoe on top of the boy’s spine with enough force to send him onto his stomach. I might have been imagining it, but since when were these littles so outlandishly spiteful?
The little girl was grinning. Not because she could ride her “horsey” but because Harry looked like he was going to either wring her neck, or wring his own. Mom had a “talk” before I started here, and she made sure to tell me that if adult authority is nowhere to be seen, little kids will start to act out.
I could definitely call it acting out, but I had spent all day with her several days earlier playing with dolls and having a teddy bear picnic when she admitted she didn’t want to swim in the lake with the other kids. Phoebe had been shy and only spoke to me through her teddy bear, so what had changed?
Could the lack of adults really be scaring the kids that much?
“Miss Josie?”
I wasn’t paying attention, half noticing some kids had just helped themselves, piling chicken nuggets and cookies on plastic plates and hurrying to their seats like I couldn’t see them.
Blinking away brain fog, I found myself face to face with Eli, who was probably my favorite camper.
You’re not supposed to have personal preferences when working with little kids, because your opinions could upset them.
However, it was incredibly hard not to like Eli.
Hiding behind a mop of brown curls, the boy was one of the more vocal kids in the group. Eli said he wanted to be an inventor when he was older, and he wanted to make robots. The kid had asked me if I wanted to see his robot collection, but I was too busy with setting up camp activities. Standing in front of me and clutching his tray, the boy was frowning.
“Josie, I just saw some kids steal chicken nuggets.”
I shrugged, shovelling a large portion on his tray. “Well, you can have some extra too.”
Eli’s smile wasn’t as big as usual. “Where’s Teddy?”
I pretended to be oblivious, hastily adding more nuggets to his tray as if I could keep his mouth shut with extra food. “He’ll be back soon! Teddy is just playing in the woods.”
“No, he’s not.”
At first, I thought I’d heard the boy wrong. The kid wasn’t looking at me, counting his nuggets as usual with the prongs of his plastic fork.
I leaned forward with my best smile. “I’m sorry, what was that, Eli?”
The kid lifted his head with a wide grin. “Can I borrow a knife, Josie?”
“Why do you need a knife?”
Leaning forward, the boy shrugged. “There’s a squirrel caught in a trap,” he said. “I want to put it out of its misery, Miss Josie. It’s in a lot of pain.”
That was… dark.
“Well, I can’t give you a knife…” I trailed off, my gaze finding Harry and the growing line of kids awaiting a horse-ride. “But! How about you go and ask Harry for a piggy-back ride?” I pointed to myself with a forced grin. “I’ll save the squirrel!” And when the boy’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head, I reached out, grasped his hand, and squeezed it as tight as I could. “Eli, we don’t need to do that, okay? I’m sure the squirrel can be saved and I’ll make sure to take it to the vet, okay?”
“But what if it doesn’t need saving?”
I squeezed tighter. “I’ll save it, Eli. I promise.”
Eli didn’t look convinced, but he nodded with a grumble. “Okay.” He said, before twisting around and joining the other kids torturing Harry. Immediately, I left my station—whether Rowan liked it or not—and headed outside to look for this supposedly dying squirrel. That was something we didn’t need. The sky was darkening when I made it into the woods, cotton candy clouds blurring through the thick canopy of trees. Eli said it was near the sign pointing towards the lake. Though I couldn’t see anything. Odd. That thought retracted in my head, however, when I stepped forward, and a squelching sound cut through the silence of my own heavy breaths mixing with insect chitters and nightlife buzzing above me and beneath me. The wet sounding squelch twisted my gut, and when I stared down at the ground, I didn't know what I was expecting.
A squashed squirrel, perhaps? In Eli’s words, the poor thing had been on the edge of death. Though, when I was thinking about it, there were no animal traps around camp. That was basic health and safety. So, what the fuck was I looking at? The bottom of my shoe was caked in dried blood, but it was the thing which was stamped into the dirt which sent my heart into my throat. It looked like an eye.
But looking closer as I lowered myself to the ground, I glimpsed something metallic, something glistening around the pupil. I picked up a stick and prodded it, though the thing didn’t move. It was definitely an eye—the eye of some kind of animal, judging from the pigmentation and the color of the iris.
But it was the metallic pieces around the eye which was throwing me off. Part of a trap, maybe? It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that a poor critter had been ripped apart, and a wild bear had dropped its dinner near the camp—and the metal encasing its eye was most likely pieces of trap.
Peering closer, though, I glimpsed silver slithers in what appeared to be the destroyed nerve caked to my shoe. After scraping most of it off, I caught glistening pieces of blood stained metal catching the late-setting sun. This time, I pinched a piece between my forefinger and thumb. It didn’t look like a bear-trap. The metal itself wasn’t serrated or old. In fact, it was new.
Which begged the question: What was this thing?
Whatever it was, it had started converting what looked like a critter’s eye, before stopping. Was it a virus? When that thought slammed into me, I fell back with a hiss, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“What are you doing?”
I almost jumped out of my skin, diving to my feet.
Carmel was standing behind me, grasping what looked like her sixth or seventh coffee. The girl had been running to and from the coffee machine all day, and I had been silently counting how much caffeine she was consuming. Carmel had been a well put together and fairly popular girl when camp started. She immediately had everyone following her beck and call, all of the boy’s (and girl’s) following her around.
Carmel wasn't straight. She made that clear on the bus to camp, announcing she wasn’t interested in guy’s, and that she had a girlfriend back home. Still though, the guy’s still followed her because... well, she was pretty.
Carmel was my bunk-mate and had woken me up on three separate occasions at 6am to go through the exact same hair and makeup routine. Now though, there was no sign of makeup or even that she had brushed her hair.
Instead of its usual tidy blonde ponytail, Carmel’s curls were tied into raggedy pigtails with ribbons I was sure she had stolen from a camper’s doll. I think what was keeping her going was coffee.
Carmel regarded me with too-wide eyes and a Camp Redwood smile we all knew was fake. She was grasping onto her coffee cup for dear life. “Josie!” she jumped when I jumped, which almost made me laugh. “Rowan’s having an emergency meeting in his cabin,” she said.
“So, whatever you’re doing can wait.”
Her gaze flicked to the ground. “What… are you doing?”
For a brief moment, I considered telling Carmel I may have found what looked like a virus which turned flesh and blood to metal—before I remembered her reaction when a spider had crept into our cabin.
Whatever this thing was, keeping it a secret for now was probably what was best. Making sure I was standing on the thing, I shrugged. “I was looking for the others.”
Carmel cocked her head, before resting her coffee on the ground. “In the dirt?”
“Footprints, Carmel.”
The girl looked confused before shaking her head. “Okay, whatever. Tell the others I’ll be there in a sec, I just need to make sure the kids are okay. We’re putting a movie on for them in the lunch hall, so that will hopefully distract them for maybe two hours.”
I nodded. “Did anyone find a phone?”
“Not with signal!”
“Carmel.” I had to fight back the urge to yell at her to keep her voice down. Kids were curious, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we had some littles peeking into our conversation. “You’re okay.” I said softly.
“I mean, we’re not okay, because yes, things are very.. screwed up right now, but we need to be… optimistic.” I exhaled out a breath, searching for eyes in the dark. I tried to smile, tried to keep up that Camp Redwood façade we were all held hostage by until the last day of camp (According to rule 5 in the Camp Redwood counsellor handbook, all counsellors must retain a smile and a positive attitude. If any counselor is caught making a frowny face, or spreading what we call “unhappiness” we will be forced to send the counselor home).
At this point, I didn’t give a fuck—but part of me didn’t want to scare the little kids.
“No, Josie.” The girl grasped hold of my shoulders with a grin rivalling the joker. “I am so sick of being told to keep smiling, because what is that doing? Three of my cabin-mates are missing! I’m the only one left, and Rowan and co expect me to keep up this act? We are fucked!"
She cupped her mouth. “F. U. C. K. E. D. We have zero adults, an unexplainable loss of power every few hours which makes no sense in the middle of nowhere—I mean what the fuck is out there which is sucking that much power, huh? There is no explanation! There should be an explanation. I should be able to think, “oh, yeah! That’s why! But no. Things are happening, and I don’t know why they’re happening. Rowan is trying to force us to act like things are okay —but in reality? He is shitting himself, Josie! We are ALL shitting ourselves!”
I took a step back, keeping hold of her hand. Carmel was trembling, her hands clammy and slimy entangled in mine. “He's just trying to keep the kids from freaking out."
She groaned, tears glistening in her eyes. “Okay, yeah! I’m blaming them because they keep acting like everything is okay—”
“Everything IS okay.” I turned to her with what I hoped was a reassuring smile—knowing damn well about the thing I’d found in the dirt. If that thing could spread, it would have a field day in an enclosed space like a summer camp.
I noticed my own hands which had been touching the thing making contact with Carmel, and dropped my hands, inwardly squirming.
If that thing was a virus, I was already fucked.
Maybe Carmel too.
If it was fast acting, it could explain the counsellor disappearances. I was already putting together a plan in my head as we headed back to the main cabin. We had to put together a search party. Some of us would stay with the kids, while a small group would venture into the woods to try and look for traces of the missing. If I was right, we would find a horror scene in the woods, and yes, that would be the time to panic.
If I was wrong, however, there was still hope.
“Are we going to be okay?”
Carmel’s voice sliced into my thoughts, and I took a moment to drink in the camp around us.
Usually, when the sky was turning twilight, it would be bustling with campers and counselors toasting marshmallows on the fire and gathering around to fall asleep to Harry’s ghost stories. Carmel would be knelt with a bunch of kids, watching a YouTube video they had all insisted on her watching, while Rowan would be hiding behind his book with his knees to his chest, his gaze glued to every page he flicked through, ignoring everyone.
Teddy, making funny faces for kids who were scared, and Connor, handing out plates of burgers and hot dogs. I remembered feeling safe and at home, cosy around the flickering orange of the fire as chatter turned to laughter and white-noise in my head. After the kids went back to their cabins, the group of us would resume positions around the fire, but this time it was more… intimate. With Allison in her cabin, we kind of ignored her rules all together.
Making out happened, because of course it did. Beers stolen from Allison’s mini fridge and raging hormones, as well as late-night skinny dipping in the lake did that. Couples went off into the woods, and we all felt completely comfortable and at home with each other.
Looking around at that moment, I felt sick to my stomach. That feeling was gone.
The feeling of family and familiarity and friendship. What I was looking at now was that same log we had all sat on, now turned on its side—hot dog buns and candy wrappers littering the ground. It was a ghost camp.
I could still see Connor’s jacket slung on the ground, and Lili’s bright pink ray bans sitting on a beer can. Because there were no adults to yell at us to clean up after ourselves. I was frowning at the skeleton of the fire when Carmel nudged me. “Hey.” Her voice was shaking slightly. “Josie? You didn’t answer my question.” Carmel wanted me to be the voice of reason, and I wasn’t that. I was just as scared as her.
There was only so much I could sugar-coat, and I gave up doing that after the third counsellor disappeared. All I could offer her was forced optimism.
“Yes.” I said. “Just keep the kids busy, alright?”
“Right.”
When I was twisting around and power-walking to Rowan’s cabin, I shouted over my shoulder, “Give them some of those animal crackers!”
“What animal crackers?”
I turned to elaborate, but Carmel was gone.
When I finally got to Rowan’s cabin, I was sweating through my shirt, and had an idea of what I was going to tell the others. It was… a thing. Which could be considered a disease or a virus—so it was vital that we split into two groups; half of us would search for the others, while the others would look for anything to get in contact with the outside world. An emergency landline, laptop, or cell phone.
I did have one problem, which was lack of evidence. All which was left from the thing I’d found was stuck to my foot. The rest of it was buried in the dirt. It was too dark to search for it, and we would be wasting time doing so.
All of that was in my mind and tangled on my tongue, one single string of incomprehensible gibberish I wasn’t even sure was English, when I stepped into Rowan’s cabin, where four sets of eyes met mine. Olive, cross legged on the floor with her arms folded, Harry, pacing up and down with a brand new bruise blooming under his eye, courtesy of Eleanor almost poking his eyes out—and Rowan himself sitting on top bunk, his legs swinging off of the side.
The guy wasn’t built to be our leader, originally being the laziest of our group, opting for sitting in a tree with a book, rather than helping set up camp activities. Yet he had become our default guy in charge because he so happened to be wearing the head counsellor hat when Allison disappeared. Admittedly, it suited him, the bright red of the cap contrasted his dark curls under a late setting sun through the back window, setting strands of straying hair on fire.
The hat was a little too big for his head, though, slipping over his eyes.
Rowan looked like a divorced father of two, dark circles bruising his eyes, and a very “dad-like” scowl curling on his lips.
With a clipboard pressed to his chest, and a pen he was chewing on, the boy resembled a grown man who had just caught his daughter coming in after curfew. “Josie.” Spitting the pen’s lid out of his mouth, he scribbled something down. I had no doubt he was tracking my attendance for these stupid crisis meetings. His eyes were wild, scanning me for answers. “Where the fuck is Carmel?”
I shut the door behind me, leaning against it with my arms folded. “So, we can swear now?”
“Yes.” Rowan rolled his eyes. “There are no kids here, so go crazy,” he pointed at me with the pen. “Carmel. Where is she?”
“Keeping the kids busy,” Callan’s muffled voice came from the bottom bunk. I could barely see the guy lying on his stomach, his face stuffed into a pillow. “It was my idea to play Shrek for them, but the little shits said they haven’t seen it,” the boy lifted his head, his lips carved into a scowl. “I’m sorry, am I tripping? Everyone’s seen Shrek! Do these kids expect the Minecraft movie?”
“They don’t like that, either,” Harry stopped pacing the cabin. “Eleanor looked at me like I was crazy when I asked if she liked it."
“Fortnite, too.” Olive said, a cushion pressed to her chest. “I suggested playing it a few days ago, and like, zero kids knew what it was.”
“Six counsellors are missing,” Rowan raised his voice over the other’s chatter. “And you’re questioning what games they like?” His eyes found mine once more. “So, Carmel is with the kids? You’re absolutely sure of it?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I just saw her five minutes ago.”
“Great.” Rowan said, sarcastically. “I’m sure she won’t go missing under mysterious circumstances.”
“Stop.” Olive shot him a glare, throwing a cushion in his face. “I told you. They’re probably lost—- or maybe they went to get help?”
“We’ve all been trained to know every inch of these woods,” Rowan catapulted the cushion right back at her. “They’re not lost.”
“Well, where are they?!” Callan sat up, bringing his knees to his chest. I had never seen the guy looked this vulnerable. “Allison made sense. She probably had other duties, and left us to look after the kids. But six counselors? All of them disappearing—- our phone signal completely cutting out, electricity cutting off, not once, but twice? What is even sucking all of our power?”
“I got the emergency generator working,” Olive raised her arm. “Connor and I managed it before…” she trailed off.
“Before Connor disappeared.” Callan finished for her. “And before him, it was Joey, Lily, Mira, Yuri, Noah, and Teddy. Which isn’t a fucking coincidence,” he shot Rowan a look, who glared down at his lap. I could tell the boy didn’t want to lead all of us, come up with plans and answer questions we desperately needed answering. His job was to look after us, as well as the littles, and so far, he was doing a pretty good job. I could tell by his expression that he thought the opposite, but he had managed to keep the kids from finding out about something as sinister as someone actively kidnapping counsellors.
He made sure they were fed, entertained, and safe watching a movie—while we were scared for our lives. Rowan was keeping up the façade no matter how scared he was. The boy dropped his head into his lap with a sigh. It looked like he might fall asleep before he slammed the clipboard into his face to wake himself up.
Nobody wanted to admit what Callan was saying, but we were all definitely thinking it. “This was planned.” Callan continued.
“Someone out here is fucking with us, very clearly trying to freak us out. Now they've got six of us. ” He spread out his arms. “How long until one of the littles gets taken, huh? A bunch of 18 year olds aren’t going to satisfy them, so what about when they start taking campers? We are in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere with a serial kidnapper on the loose, and did we really just leave fifteen kids in the care of a girl who thought Australia was in England?”
“In Carmel’s defence, she was black-out drunk when she said that,” Olive murmured.
“Voice down!” Rowan hissed. “Do you want to scare them?!” His gaze flicked to me. “Did you do a headcount during dinner?”
I nodded. “Fifteen kids all accounted for. Ten are in the lunch hall, and five girls are in Cassie’s cabin playing Operation.”
“All day?” Olive spoke up. “Weren’t they playing that this morning? I tried to get into their cabin to give them breakfast, but they just shooed me away and locked the door.”
“Fuck.” Rowan ran his fingers down his face. “Alright, I’ll go and see what’s going on with them. Knowing Cassie and her friends, they’re probably zonked out on stolen candy. When all of the kids are accounted for in the lunch cabin, we gather outside.”
I swallowed, speaking up. “I actually wanted to talk to you guys about something.”
Rowan lifted his head, jutting the edge of the clipboard into his chin. “Go on…”
“I found something?” I pulled a face. “I mean, think I’ve found something?”
I wasn't sure how to explain to a dwindling group of exhausted teenagers that there may be something even more terrifying than potential kidnappers out there. Four blank faces started back at me, and Rowan leaned forward with a frown. “Like, in general? Josie, we don’t have time to go foraging.”
“You could call it a lead,” I said. “But I need your eyes to find it.”
“Uh-huh. But what is it?”
Thinking back to what exactly I had seen, I had no idea how to describe it. “It’s better if I just… showed you.”
Rowan looked sceptical, but nodded. “Alright. Josie comes with me. We’ll check out Allison’s cabin again to look for an emergency line, and you can show me whatever this ‘thing’ is you’ve found. Then we’ll escort Cassie and the other girl’s to the lunch cabin. Every camper needs an escort from now on. The rest of you? Act normal. If the kids see you freaking out, they will also freak out—and we need to keep up morale.” The boy pointed to Olive. “Olive, you sit in with the kids and look after them. Callan, check out the emergency generator. Harry, the kids see you as a playground ride, so use that to your advantage. Offer them horse rides if they’re scared. And stop with the ghost stories, it’s making it worse. Give them piggybacks.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
Rowan cleared his throat. “We all keep up appearances. If the others turn up, after getting high or… I don’t know, having an orgy in the woods—- I will fucking kill them.” The way he smiled through his teeth, jumping off the bunk, his toes primed like a wild animal, I knew he wasn’t joking. If this was a well-constructed prank the other counselors were playing, I had no doubt Rowan would rip them apart for leaving him as a reluctant leader. To my surprise, the others wandered off with their tasks.
I watched Rowan lift up his pillow and pull out a pack of animal crackers, ripping open the bag and pouring the contents into his mouth. He caught my eye, crunching through mini animal crackers. “I didn’t have lunch,” he said through a mouthful.
I couldn’t help feeling a sense of relief as we headed across camp, Rowan in front of me, while I lagged behind.
“So, what’s the plan?” I caught up to him, almost tripping over a log.
The guy didn’t turn around. “I am completely winging it,” he said through a choked laugh. “I have no idea what I’m doing, and if I’m honest? I just want to go home, dude. I haven’t looked after this many kids in my life, and if I have to smile one more time as a little brat, I am going to fucking lose my mind.” He heaved out a breath. “I am making this up as I go along.”
I laughed that time. “That’s… comforting.”
“Yeah?” He turned to shoot me a grin. “Well, rest assured I am just about as scared—if not more scared than you,” as we stopped in front of Cassie’s cabin, his gaze found mine. “Is it me…” he said softly, “Or does the lunch cabin seem quiet.”
He was right. The windows were dark when they should have been illuminated by the TV screen. Instead of answering, I stepped in front of him, grasping hold of the cabin door. “Cassie?” I knocked three times. “Girl’s, are you okay in there? It’s Josie and Rowan.” I tried the door, and it slid open. Shooting a look at the boy behind me, I turned back to the door.
“We’re coming in, okay?”
“Wait!”
Cassie squeaked from inside. “But he’s not finished!”
Ignoring the coil of dread unravelling in my gut, I forced the door open and stepped into unusually milky white light which flooded the cabin. The first thing I saw was eight-year-old Cassie, sitting cross legged with her back to me. She was sitting in a circle with the other girls, no doubt playing their game.
When I stepped closer, however, I noticed something pooling across the wooden floor. It must have been juice or water that they had spilled. I took another step, but this time, clammy fingers wrapped around my wrist and yanked me back. Rowan didn't speak, but his eyes were elsewhere. Initially, they had been drinking in the cabin before they found oblivion entirely. I heard his breath start to accelerate, his grip tightening on my wrist.
I had half a mind to pull away, before I saw the body shaped carcass the girls were sitting around. In the dim light of the cabin, it used to be a person. Teddy. I could still see parts of an identity, freckled cheeks and eyes which were still open, still staring at the sky.
But that was where the similarities to the missing counsellor ended. The thing which used to be Teddy was more of a shell, a scooped out thing resembling a human body. What sent me stumbling backwards, my mouth open in a silent scream, was the almost surgical efficiency of each organ's removal, like it really was a game of operation. His heart, lungs, and intestines were in one pile-- while his brain was cupped between little Cassie's bloody hands— and when my gaze found the little girl, Nina, hiding behind dark curly hair, I was seeing what looked like a toy robot’s head in her hands. In my head, I was thinking about the eye with the metallic pieces glittering around its pupil, and something turned in my gut.
Did I find a human eye?
I was staring at the crevice inside the boy's skull, and the boxes of surgical equipment piled on the girl's bunks, when Rowan finally pulled me back, and I was stumbling straight onto my ass. "We need to go." Rowan spoke through a croak. Cassie’s words rattled in my head. Teddy, I thought.
Teddy wasn’t finished.
"Josie. Get up. Now!" My head was spinning, and I was sure I'd thrown up. I didn’t even realize we had managed to stumble from the girl’s cabin before cool air grazed my face, tickling my cheeks. Something wet and warm, and lumpy was spattering the front of my shirt.
Before I could coerce words, the boy was pulling me to my feet, and I was seeing stars in my eyes, blinking brightly. When the two of us started forwards in a run, Rowan stopped abruptly. I followed his gaze to find several kids surrounding his cabin, where Harry, Olive and Callan were. Maybe I was hallucinating, but Eleanor and Phoebe, both of whom wielding weapons where I had no idea where they had gotten them—looked… taller? Rowan didn’t waste time, dragging me back. “Allison’s cabin.” He spoke in cry which became a sob, pulling me across camp, stumbling over rocky ground.
“We need a phone. Fuck, we need a phone. We need a phone.” Rowan was struggling to stand, occasionally bending over and choking up dust.
“They were playing Operation."
Literal operation.
“But they’re just kids!” I choked out.
Little kids, who had surgically removed every organ inside Teddy’s body.
Little kids, who were hunting the other counsellors down, and would surely be coming for us.
Allison’s cabin was thankfully further into the woods. When we were safe inside and Rowan was locking the door, I dry heaved several times, unable to get the sight of glistening gore splattering the cabin floor from my mind. “Josie.” Rowan was already tearing apart the cabin. “Work with me here, okay? We don’t… we don’t have fucking time to freak out, or to barf—we need to get help. Now.” Rowan was freaking out, and when he hit the ground on his knees, I took over. I searched Allison’s desk first.
Nothing of importance, just documents and invoices. Digging through her draw, there was still nothing. We were running out of time.
Abandoning the desk, I went through her suitcase and bags. When I was crawling under her bed to try and find a weapon, Rowan hissed out. “Wait.” When I turned to him, he was still kneeling, but his foot was clamping down on a loose plank. The guy didn’t hesitate, pulling at the loose plank, which, to my confusion, revealed what looked to me like a trap door.
Rowan turned to me. “You’re kidding.”
I could only stare at the trap door revealing stone steps. He peered down, his voice echoing. “Allison has a fucking secret bunker?”
His lips curved into a surprisingly childish grin which took me off guard. “Oh, wow, that’s so cooooool!”
Lifting my head at the sound of loud squealing, I glimpsed a group of littles led by Eleanor stalking towards us. Eleanor had a hostage. Harry. And with the way she was sticking the blade of a scary looking knife to his throat, I figured she meant business.
Their height difference was almost comical. The eighteen year old guy had to hunch over so the little girl could successfully keep him prisoner. Behind them in the trees, I could see something illuminating the dark, an electric blue light bathing their faces.
So, that was there the power was going.
But what the fuck were these eight-year-old’s doing?
“Josie!” Rowan hissed from down below. He had already climbed down.
I joined him, struggling down the stone steps, before replacing the loose plank. If these kids were as smart as I thought, it wouldn’t take them long to realize the loose plank—also a trap door. Allison’s bunker was more of a control room. There were multiple screens lit up, a chair in front of a working MacBook. The phone-line was cut. But that didn’t make sense.
The kids were unaware of the bunker, so who cut the phone lines? Rowan was on the laptop, struggling to get through the password protection, so I turned my attention to piles of cardboard boxes.
When I opened them, I found myself staring at animal crackers.
There were hundreds of them, packed on top of each other. Looking further, digging through the boxes, I found a piece of old crumpled paper which looked ancient.
REGARDING PROJECT SPEARHEAD SUBJECTS:
PLEASE DO NOT INGEST UNLESS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY. IF MULTIPLE SUBJECTS INGEST, PLEASE USE SELF DESTRUCT.
ONLY USE IN CASES SUCH AS IMMINENT DESTRUCTION TO THE PLANET/THREAT OF NUCLEAR WAR.
(PLEASE CONTACT FAMILIES IN ADVANCE. MAKE SURE TO INGEST WITH WATER TO AVOID NEUROLOGICAL SYMPTOMS SUCH AS PSYCHOSIS, EXTREME VIOLENCE. PLEASE APPROACH SUBJECTS WITH CAUTION.
Something ice cold slithered down my spine.
Abandoning the boxes, I searched through a cabinet filled with files which were crumbling apart from age. I picked one at random and flicked through it.
Eleanor Summer’s.
Sex: Female.
DOB: 08/05/1977.
Initially, I thought I was reading the dates wrong. But then, with my heart in my throat, I was grasping for other files.
Eli Evermore.
Sex: Male.
'DOB: 08/03/1979.
“Rowan.” I managed to get out through a breath.
“Mm?”
“They’re not children.”
The boy rubbed his eyes, frowning. His eyes were half lidded, almost confused. “Huh?”
“Eleanor.” I whispered. “Is forty five years old.”
He nodded slowly, turning back to the laptop. “How do you spell… documents? I’m looking for digital versions but I can’t find any.”
“You don’t know how to spell documents?”
“It’s been a hard day.” The boy whined, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry.
Whatever I was going to say was choked in the back of my throat, when a loud bang sounded from above, the sounds of childish giggling coming through the floorboards. But the laughter didn’t sound like little kids. No, it sounded like teenager’s who were acting like little kids. I stared at the boxes of animal crackers, and then at the file confirming Eleanor’s real age.
My own words shuddered through me, and I remembered finding Teddy’s dismembered carcass in Cassie’s cabin. When I had caught her gaze, the little girl didn’t look scared, and somehow, her fingers wrapped around the scalpel looked just right.
Like the little bitch knew exactly what she was doing.
“Helloooo?” Harry’s voice was a hysterical giggle. “Olly, Olly, Oxen freeee!”
“Are you in heeeeeeere?” Carmel joined in. I could hear their footsteps above, dancing across the room.
Clamping my hand over my mouth, I dragged my knees to my chest and prayed they weren’t smart enough to figure out we were right underneath them.
Knowing the truth about them, though? I wasn’t counting on it.
….
That was an hour ago.
We’re still stuck down here, and I can get a connection here—thank god. For some reason, Alison has blocked all social media. We need help. We’re at Camp Redwood, and these kids ARE NOT KIDS.
Whatever Project Spearhead is was designed to keep them here.
The phone-line is cut so we can’t get help from whoever was helping Allison. I am counting on you guys.
Get us out of here!

Ok I have an Elysian pack that has dank dust and I've had it a few times but I've got a test coming up and I need to know if I'm gonna fail the weed test or if I'm gonna be smooth sailing. It's a Washington based beer and I have a feeling it's gonna be fine but I want to know if it might trip a false positive or if anyone has any info on this.

Greetings, ReddX Community! I’ve come back to drop off the next installment of this ReddXclusive tale of RPG HorroNeckbeard Cringe. I’m trying to pace myself when it comes to posting this story since I have the entire 10-part saga written and ready to roll. And it’s been surprisingly fun and cathartic to finally put this beard on blast (even though I’m being a weenie and hiding behind a throw-away account). If you’re just stumbling upon this sordid tale of cringe... Welcome! You might regret it. Nevertheless, allow me to introduce you to the chummers!
Cast:
OP (c’est moi!)
Female, late 20s
Grad student
Emo Girl with purple hair
Likes crass humor
Nerdy, petite, total beard bait
Decker
​
Funky P. Beard (FPB)
Male, early 30s
Tall and lanky with a bushy, black, hobo-chic beard
Maître D at a hip restaurant
Very promiscuous
Very possessive
Anger issues (to say the least)
Raging alcoholic
PSYCHO
Street Samurai
​
Mori
The GM
Male, early/mid 30s
Hypersexual kinky bastard
Likes exhibitionism, vomit, and illegal substances
Charismatic, cult-leader vibes
Very amusing, always nice to OP
The only person who seemed capable of getting FPB to behave
​
Axton
Male, late 20s
Grad student
Sexy, pleasant to be around
Has a sense of humor that meshes well with OP’s
Usually able to ignore FPB’s psycho behavior
The primary target of FPB’s jealousy
Rigger
​
Sage:
Male, early/mis 30s
Assistant GM
Host of the gaming weekends
Typically level-headed
Skilled in martial arts
Mage
​
Athena:
Female, early 30s
Sage’s girlfriend
Co-host of the gaming weekends
Intolerant of FPB
Petite, friendly, probably also beard bait (but she’s taken... not that that would deter a beard)
Shaman
​
Snorlax:
Male, early 30s
The funny fat guy (NOT a neckbeard)
Easy-going, friendly, rarely directly involved in the weekend’s drama
Stoner
Adept
​
Chapter 3: Bungholes and Booty Calls
Trigger Warnings:
Mentions of bodily fluids/bodily functions
Minor drug use
Crapulence
​
While Mori was washing the puke off in the upstairs shower, most of the guys were taking this opportunity to avoid using the piss jars. But they weren’t using the downstairs restroom. No, they were all just peeing in the backyard. Apparently, the guy talk that took place in nature’s urinal successfully calmed FPB down a bit, because he was uncharacteristically chill when they came back inside.
Athena and I had been trying to pick up the pizza slices off the floor, and we were just throwing them in the bin since a lot of them had caught some errand sick. Athena had found some dust masks, which honestly didn’t help much with the wretched puke stench. But a little nose protection was better than nothing. We were also wearing dish-washing gloves to keep errand vomit off our hands. But the guys looked very confused by this when they all sauntered back inside.
Sage: What are you guys doing? Mori said cleaning the puke was to be a punishment.
Athena: Well, it’s hard to tell which pizza slices got hurled on and which ones didn’t. Plus, they’re gonna stain your carpet. And we needed to make sure the battlemap didn’t catch any puke.
Sage: Is the map okay?
Athena: Yeah, the map’s fine. But your carpet... Your walls... Babe, we’ve gotta do a little damage control.
I need to stop here and spew out some thoughts on these bizarre rules. Mori’s unabashed exhibitionism was too absurd to be disturbing. And everyone appeared to find it funny, so I saw no harm. And I’d never say it to FPB, but Mori wasn’t bad to look at, even though he wasn’t my type. The shit bucket and the piss jars creeped me out, but no one had used them yet. So the jury was still out on the level of YUCK. But to purposefully leave human vomit all over the carpet and wall, forcing all of us to smell it, and using puke cleanup duty as a punishment that might be enacted on the next roll OR that might not be enacted for another hour... Now, that just seemed unhygienic. And I’m a person who will watch YouTube videos of drunk guys hurling and laugh until I cry. But if you’re faced with a projectile vomit situation in REAL LIFE? You clean that up. Immediately.
FPB: I wouldn’t have puked if he hadn’t punched me in the stomach.
Axton: You did kind of hit first.
FPB: Yeah, but that was different. He sexually assaulted my girlfriend.
Axton turned to me. “Did Mori sexually assault you, OP? We wouldn’t want you to get creeped out and never come back.”
Me: The stupid mushroom stamp? I just saw it as part of the game. He does even more extreme stuff to all of you every single weekend, right? Do you guys feel assaulted? Because if you do, somebody should speak up.
The general consensus was that everyone found it funny. Okay, then. I still felt like Mori had some kind of inexplicable hold over all of them, but it wasn’t my problem.
Mori descended the stairs, wearing an over-sized Shadowrun t-shirt. Was he wearing see-through boxers again? Tighty whities? Was he going commando? I was sure we’d find out soon enough.
Mori marched up to FPB and held out his hand. FPB took it and they did that manly hug/handshake combo thing, only with heightened emotion. I think I saw tears in both of their eyes.
Mori: Peace?
FPB: Peace.
Mori: Then the planning shall continue... After we DRINK!!!!!
MORE booze??? Really???
The team charged into the fuel station and began filling Solo cups nearly to the brim with hard liquor. I thought perhaps a bit of alcohol might make this evening easier to handle. Or it might end up making me even sleepier. But I nevertheless made an ass out of myself and asked Sage if they had any wine.
The room boomed with laughter.
Me: That’s a “no,” I take it? What about coffee?
Mori: I got you.
He pulled me aside. “Feel kind of like I owe you for pissing off your man like that. Follow me.”
He headed for the guest room. I followed him.
FPB: Oh, HELL NO. Where the fuck are you going with her? I thought we were cool, man!
Mori: I have nothing but the purest intentions. Feel free to tag along.
FPB threw his arm around my shoulder and kept an uncomfortably tight grip on me.
Mori rummaged through one of the backpacks on the floor and emerged with a small baggie of white powder. My eyes lit up.
FPB: NO. NO DRUGS. I HATE COCAINE.
Me (gently, to FPB): Believe me, I can handle it. I used to do it all the time when I worked as a bartender. And I can either take some kind of stimulant or I can fall asleep and Axton can take over my character.
FPB (turning red and frothing at the mouth): NO COCAINE. Make her some fucking coffee.
Mori: Adderall?
Me: YES!!! Perfect!
FPB: You want another punch to the jaw, Bitch? Quit trying to DRUG my girlfriend.
Me (stepping between them): He’s not trying to rufie me or anything. He’s *giving* me something I’m *asking* for. Something I’m asking for so that I can stay awake and be supportive of your favorite thing in the world. You told me this was important to you, and I’m trying to be a good player.
Mori: Go easy on her, Funky. These weekends can be long, and the first time’s always rough. Consider this lube.
I laughed. FPB fumed.
Sage knocked at the door.
Sage: Guys, please. Can we chill? I put on a pot of coffee, OP. We could probably all use it.
Me: Thank you, Sage.
FPB picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and stomped out of the room. I lifted my head and nodded to Mori, my eyes wide and pleading, hoping he would read my face and understand that I still wanted drugs.
We all settled back into the War Room, the other players with beers and cocktails in hand, me with a hot cup of coffee in hand.
Me: Seriously, how do you guys get used to these all-nighters?
Snorlax: We DRINK!
The room roared with laughter and cheers. And despite his endorsement of the drinking, Snorlax was currently loading up a hash pipe.
Just as Athena was preparing to roll, the doorbell rang. FPB suddenly went white as a ghost.
Sage (to FPB): I’ve got it, bro.
Sage dashed to the door, and I could hear him talking in a hushed voice. The voice that replied was distinctly female and she sounded drunk.
Sage grabbed a set of keys from a hook on the wall, exchanged a look and a nod with Mori, and slipped outside.
Me: What was that?
Athena (answering far too quickly): Neighbor. She’s always coming over with some emergency. He’ll be back in no time.
Me: Should he be driving?
Athena: He’s fine. He hasn’t had that much yet.
I noticed that FPB’s phone was suddenly blowing up. He powered it off.
Me (to FPB): Everything okay?
FPB: Work. They know not to bother me on the weekends. I’ll call them back on Sunday when we’re finished.
Athena: Shall I roll?
Mori: By all means.
Athena glitched. I felt horrible for her, but I was also relieved that the vomit would FINALLY be cleaned up. The entire house smelled positively foul.
Mori: We adjourn to the backyard while Athena carried out her punishment.
I really, really felt like we should have all pitched in (immediately after it happened), but Mori had his weird rules...
With Sage busy tending to the drunk “neighbor’s” emergency (she was NOT his neighbor, and she had NOT stopped by to ask Sage for his help, in case that was unclear), and Athena tending to the cinnamon whiskey barf in the War Room, only Snorlax, Axton, FPB, and myself remained to provide Mori with his required regular infusion of attention. I found myself sitting between a very quiet FPB, and a very chatty Mori. Apparently, Mori was ex-military and he was explaining the value of extremely unpleasant punishments.
Me: Yeah, but this is a game of chance. It’s not like she glitched on purpose.
Mori: But ya gotta admit... It’s funny as hell, right?
The rest of the team laughed. They laughed a little too hard. Does anyone remember that episode of the Sopranos where Tony slowly realizes that his sycophants will laugh hysterically at any joke he makes, even if the joke isn’t all that funny? That’s how the laughter struck me. But FPB soon went completely silent again, staring at his polished Chelsea boots.
Mori elbowed me gently in the rib and gestured downwards. Dear God, was he about to flash... Oh! It was an Adderall!!!
I mouthed, “Thank you,” scooped up the pill, slipped it in my mouth, and washed it down with coffee.
Mori continued to regale the team with stories from his military years. His many, many stints in the brig, his enthusiasm for unsanctioned hazing, and the steamy affair with his CO that got him dishonorably discharged.
Me: Did she get discharged, too?
Mori: HE. No, he didn’t. He had a spotless record and a higher rank.
Me: Ah, so do you have a boyfriend now?
Mori: I’m not gay. I’m everything and nothing.
Axton: He’s an equal opportunity banger.
Snorlax: He’s a man-ho!
There were jeers and laughs. Mori proudly owned his “man-ho” status. The term “pansexual” was just starting to catch on at the time, but it wasn’t widely used the way it is now. Mori most definitely now identifies as pansexual. And he’s also definitely leading a cult.
Mori continued with his tales, describing the delightful dalliance with his CO, explaining how he’d fashioned butt plugs from soap. How very resourceful! Snorlax and Axton were laughing and continuing to tease Mori about being a man-ho, but FPB remained silent. He seemed... troubled.
Me: Hey, are you still pissed about the mushroom stamp?
FPB shook his head. “I’m just stressed about work. This is supposed to be my sanctuary. I’m pissed that they’d call me on a Friday night.”
I leaned over to give him a supportive kiss on the temple (that was one of the few safe places on his face), and then my nostrils were reminded of the puke residue in his beard.
Me: FPB... Do you want to go wash your beard?
FPB: Huh? Nah. I’ll get it later.
Me: It reeks. I’ll go get a paper towel and some soap. Unless Mori thinks Athena has to clean it?
FPB: Just leave it.
Apparently, Mori had overheard.
Mori: Yes, definitely leave it. It’s one of our traditions to take a video of him passed out with flies swarming around his funky beard.
FPB (begging Mori not to call him out): DUDE.
Me: Does he puke every weekend?
Mori: Nah, he just rolls around on dirty carpet.
FPB was now staring daggers at Mori. And I knew the precise nature of the stench that attracted the flies. I also kind of wanted to see one of their videos...
Athena: ALMOST DONE IN HERE!!!
Mori: Back to the War Room it is!!!
We filed back inside to find Athena *and* Sage scrubbing the last few chunks of puke off the walls. And it still reeked.
Mori marched up to Sage.
Mori: My loyal Assistant GM. Breaking the rules to help out his lady love. Tsk. Tsk.
Sage lowered his head.
Mori: You shall now suffer... THE ANAL GAZE!
The rest of the team groaned in something across between laughter and utter disgust.
Mori: Take you seats. Sage, you kneel. 20 seconds. No breaking eye contact with the brown eye. FPB, you count the seconds.
FPB: My phone’s busted...
(His phone was NOT busted.)
Axton: I’ll count.
Mori: Splendid.
He lifted his oversized shirt, turned around and bent over, just inches away from poor Sage’s face. Sure enough, he was going commando. Axton fired up the stopwatch on his phone. Sage’s eyes were tightly closed.
Mori: FPB, it is your duty to stand facing Sage and make sure he doesn’t look away. If he does, we start over from the beginning and add 10 seconds to the timer. The Anal Gaze shall begin in 3... 2... LOOK AT IT!
Sage opened his eyes and seemed to keep them fixed on Mori’s butthole. Axton counted loudly, and the rest of the team chimed in to count along. I studied Sage’s expression. It seemed as though his mind had drifted to a far away place. Perhaps an alternate universe where the kinky GM’s bare anus wasn’t inches from his face.
And he was a trooper! The 20 seconds passed, and Sage never flinched. When Axton called out for the punishment to stop, Sage dashed to the kitchen, chugged Fireball straight from the large bottle, and returned to the War Room, visibly shaking off the memory of the past 20 seconds, and... laughing? Yep. He was genuinely laughing. So I guess these kinky antics really were okay with everyone. Even FPB seemed to accept them as long as *I* wasn’t the one getting “punished.”
By the time we properly resumed the planning phase, it was nearly 3:00 AM. I was peachy keen for the time being thanks to Mori’s help. But I knew that the peachy keenness was bound to wane eventually. And if my past experiences with Adderall were indeed prelude, I knew that I was going to become violently angry if I wasn’t left alone to crash.
The excessive drinking continued, and all of the team members were finally showing signs of inebriation. I might finally stand a chance of seeming competent! They were all wasted, and I was tweaking on Adderall! Then again, it was still a game of chance. One unfortunate roll of the dice, and FPB was sure to become enraged again. I wondered if his state of inebriation would make it easier or infinitely more difficult to handle the rage. I hoped we wouldn’t have to find out.
Mori was pretty wasted, too. So the “punishments” became less and less severe, since he was frequently unable to swing his dick with enough precision to smack a team member in the face. And the story had become entirely incoherent. But, I mean... it was Shadowrun. In that world, a dragon swooping in and blowing up a building by farting fire on it wasn’t completely out of place.
The guys had started using the piss jars, and I was utterly shocked that this rule wasn’t a joke. Why couldn’t they get up for two freakin’ minutes? But now that I think about it... I wasn’t sure that they were capable of walking at that point. So I suppose the piss jars were a little bit necessary. At least no one had reached for the shit bucket yet. Then again, a dump in a bucket probably would have been less disgusting than projectile vomit left to soak into the walls and the carpet for nearly an hour.
But I jinxed myself. Snorlax staggered to his feet and shouted, “SHIT BUCKET!”
Everyone else echoed the cry. And the bucket made its way to Snorlax, who dropped trou and seemed to be taking an actual shit in the bucket. Seriously... WHY? Why was this a thing?
Axton was sitting next to Snorlax, so the miasma appeared to get to him first. He was slumped over, barely awake, but he lurched forward without warning and wretched all over the floor in front of him when the poo particles hit his nostrils.
I suddenly understood the purpose of the shit bucket. Mori was an emetophiliac. We had studied paraphilias in my sex therapy training, and I chastised myself for not connecting the dots immediately. That’s why every single rule was designed to elicit disgust and (hopefully for Mori) to make someone vomit. He had been rubbing sick into his skin like it was some luxurious body lotion earlier, after all. And when I glanced over at him, he was paying no mind to Snorlax, straining over the bucket. His eyes were fixed on Axton. And his hand was moving rhythmically underneath his oversized shirt.
Perhaps fittingly, when the next punishment rolled around, Snorlax had to clean up the puke that his dump had induced. The rest of us adjourned to the back porch. Some crawled, some leaned on one another. And Mori wasn’t his typical chatty self this time. In fact, he wasn’t even sitting up. The entire team was slumped over, belching, farting, babbling to themselves. And most of these sweet fools were in their 30s. Even a college rager would have wound down by this point.
As for me? I still was chipper! Then I noticed that Mori was trying to get my attention. He was whispering something over and over. As I got closer to him, I understood.
“OP... Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.”
I went to the fuel station, grabbed some Styrofoam cups, took the coffee pot, and headed back outside. But then I stopped to notice that Snorlax was passed out cold in the middle of the War Room, surrounded by vomit. And there was a whole lot more vomit than there had been when we all went outside, meaning Snorlax must have puked, too.
I sat the cups and the coffee pot down, crept into the War Room, and touched Snorlax on the shoulder. “Hey... Snorlax? You okay, big guy? You breathing?”
He grunted something. Good. He was breathing.
I went back outside and distributed the caffeine. Pretty much everyone was too drunk to even hold their cups.
Me: Guys. Snorlax is passed out in the living room. Should we call the paramedics? He could have alcohol poisoning.
No one responded, so I returned to the War Room, the fetid stench of poop, puke, and a hint of dehydrated, boozy pee fouling the air. It was a good thing that I’ve never been much of a puker.
Me: Snorlax! Are you okay?
He rolled over and tried to sit up.
I wanted to help him, but he was literally *drenched* in vomit. Ah, what the hell? I was getting ready to call an Uber and GTFO. So I offered my hands, and helped him get to a seated position.
“Dude. You gotta call it a night,” I said, wiping my hands on a stray paper towel.
Snorlax: The rules...
Me: Fuck the rules. Sleep it off. You guys can resume tomorrow when everyone’s sober enough to actually play.
Snorlax chuckled as much as he could and slurred, “Not about Shader...fun. Is about DRINKING.”
Yeah, I had pretty much figured that out. And I was more than a little irritated that I had spent every spare moment of the past week diving into Shadowrun lore (which was actually extremely cool) and reading gameplay guides (which were absolutely useless). In truth, all I had really needed to do was show up, get completely plastered, roll some dice, and look at Mori’s penis.
Me: Okay, let’s get you over to the couch.
Snorlax scooched and I guided him until he was leaning against the couch. I made sure he was sitting upright, and I put some throw pillows on either side of him so that he would hopefully remain upright in case he vomited again.
I looked up to see Axton standing in the entrance to the War Room.
Me: Hey... You doing alright?
Axton: Yeah. Hurling actually helped. I can thank Snorlax for that. I see you’ve made him comfortable.
Me: I tried. I just didn’t want him puking in his sleep and aspirating his own vomit.
Axton moved closer to me. “I think it’s cool that you’re not fucked up like the rest of us.”
I laughed. “When you say, ‘fucked up,’ you mean DRUNK, right? Because I never said I wasn’t the other kind of fucked up. I mean... I’m dating FPB, after all.”
Axton was fully in my personal space now. And my heart was beating faster. I blamed the Adderall. “Yeah. That’s pretty fucked up.” As he was saying this, he was leaning down to kiss me. And I was only a little surprised to find myself completely into it, as long as I ignored the fact that he’d recently puked. FPB would deign to dole out affection on rare occasions, or when he wanted to make sure that others in the room knew I was HIS GIRLFRIEND. But it had been a *minute* since I’d felt desired. And even if all Axton was feeling was drunken desire, I was more than happy to revel in it. But I wasn’t ready to act on it. This wasn’t out of respect for my “relationship” with FPB; it was out of uncertainty that Axton had any awareness of what he was doing or saying. If that makes me the villain of this story, so be it.
I placed a hand on his chest and he staggered a little.
Me: Why don’t you sleep it off. See how you feel in the harsh light of day?
Axton sleepily nodded. I helped him to a chair and got him settled in. He was better off than the rest of the plastered crew, but still most definitely drunk. Even so, he didn’t paw at me or make drunken innuendos as he settled in for the night. I respected that.
I went into the kitchen and grabbed water bottles to place next to Snorlax and Axton. Both of whom were now snoring away. I wandered back to the backyard and found Mori, Sage, Athena, and FPB all passed out on the porch. I could see a cherry hanging from Mori’s mouth, dangerously close to his glitzy beard, so I took the cigarette from him and put it out.
And then I called an Uber and went the fuck home.

It's 3:36am on the space rig, you're in a deep sleep. You hear a slight crackling from the loudspeaker over your bunk, which means Mission Control is once again about to interrupt your beauty rest: God fucking damnit, you think. "Gunner, Mission Control. You can rest when you're dead. We've got a team on Hollow Bough who are losing dwarves left and right. Your people need you. Your Drop Pod is leaving in 5. Don't be late." You grumble to yourself as you stumble out of bed and try to wipe the exhaustion from your eyes. Maybe one day I'll get more than 4 hours of rest, you think to yourself. But not today. You head to the Abyss bar, and tell Llloyd you're going to need 3 Glyphid Slammers; today's a special occasion. Lloyd just barely hesitates, which you catch a glimpse of. Is he becoming sentient?
The second beer is barely filled before you've already killed the first. "Faster, Lloyd! If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're judging me!" Lloyd gives a few beeps of approval and speeds up the process. Only half of the third beer actually makes it into your mouth; eh, I'll save the rest in my beard for later. You toss a tip to Lloyd and run over to the equipment terminal. "By the sound of things," you tell the broken-down Bosco beside you "we're gonna need the full shebang today, Bosco." You start donning your armor, grenades, and other equipment. You throw your minigun over your shoulder, giving it a few strokes of affection. "You've never let me down, Ulga. What do you say we deliver those damn bugs some freedom, huh?"
You glance over to the countdown timer, 26 seconds left to departure. "I wonder if I've got time for just one more beer..."
kshh: "Get in the damn pod," says Mission Control. Right, once I get back here with my boys, you think. You get into the pod. It roars to life as the massive turbines kick on. The vibrations are enough to rattle the teeth out of a human, you're no human though. You're a goddamn Dwarf, and it's killin' time. "Hey Mission Control, has anyone told you you've got a cosy job?" You chuckle to yourself as you hear Mission Control cursing faintly over the speaker. Suddenly you feel your stomach lurch as the pod violently drops from the station. "This is what I live for," you say quietly as you light up a cigar and take a few puffs.
It takes about 10 minutes to reach the atmosphere of Hollow Bough. This place is so fucked, you think to yourself. The pod reaches the outer layer of the planet with a deafening crash, and you brace your hand against the bulkhead to steady yourself. The pod starts to tunnel down. The lights inside the pod flicker a few times, and dust rains down on you. You take a lay of the land on the terrain scanner. It's a wide-open cavern, with a large canyon in the middle. Terrible place to fight, you think. You peer through the tiny peephole in the pod and see the Scout just went down, Engineer is down, and Driller is fighting for his life. "Somebody patch me up!" you hear the Scout whine. The massive waves from the Drillers' flamethrower are so bright in the dimly lit cave that you have to squint your eyes. He's being overrun. You throw your fist up and scream at the top of your lungs, "FOR ROCK AND STONE!!" just as the pod lands 20 feet from the driller with a loud THUD. The sides fly off your drop pod and you step out, surveying the battlefield. "Daddy's here, motherfuckers." You sprint over to the Driller and throw a shield down on the two of you, while spinning up your minigun. You start unloading hundreds of rounds into every single thing with more legs than two, keeping an eye on the barrel so it doesn't overheat. Turning your head over your shoulder, you scream to the Driller "another day in the office huh?" He laughs manically and keeps sweeping his flamethrower through waves of bugs. You can hear the pop pop pop as they explode from the 3500 degree flame. Damn I love that sound, you think to yourself.
Eventually the two of you finish the wave off and revive the Scout and Engie. "Took you long enough," complains the Scout as he brushes himself off. "Yeah yeah, Rock & Stone" you respond. Not an ounce of gratitude, but that's okay. Killin' bugs and mining minerals is all I need in life, you think to yourself as you take another puff of your cigar. Just then you hear the ear-piercing screech of a grabber. You turn to your team to warn them and feel a sudden lurch as you're scooped from the ground. "OH FOR FU-"

“I know how men in exile feed on dreams of hope”
-Aeschylus
IT WAS JUST PAST sunrise on Herenveen Prime and Charlotte Elizabeth Mackenzie-Nanda, Queen Consort of the Herenveen Staats-Republic, was still enjoying her coffee when she heard the distant rumble of a sonic boom that indicated an arriving shuttle had entered the upper atmosphere, bound for the spaceport. She set her cup down on the small table next to her.
“Grimsby?”
“Yes ma’am?” Her ever-present steward stepped forward.
“Do you have the omnioculars close at hand?”
“Always ma’am,” he replied. He stepped over to a small cabinet on the far side of the terrace, opened it, and, retrieving the omnioculars, brought them back to her. “Here you are, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Grimsby,” she said. Raising the omnioculars to her eyes, she began to scan the skies. Let’s see, she thought to herself. I’m on the eastern side of the palace, overlooking the gardens and that means the approach vector to the spaceport in Herenveen Town should be about… there. There was a faint trail of exhaust. She pressed a green button on top of the omnioculars and the readout confirmed her findings. There was a ship and it was- the readout directed her to move to the right and she did so, hoping that she would be able to catch a glimpse of the arriving ship before it disappeared behind the Palace and-
She froze and pulled back from the omnioculars. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t- she made herself look again. There was no mistaking it this time. It was a clipper ship, one of the ultra-fast pickets that the Star Union’s defense contractors were marketing to every buyer from here to the rim. Along its prow was its registration number (SU-76463) and its name, the Star Clipper. None of that was particularly of note. What was, however, was the red, white, and blue roundel of the Star Union’s space force and, she noted, the golden gryphon symbol of the Duchy of New Georgia underneath it.
She set the omnioculars down on the table and picked up her coffee again, staring out at the Palace Gardens. She was not ill-informed, of course. Even now, after decades in exile, she still had friends in the Star Union. She had heard about the failing health of her Grandfather, the King-Emperor, and- there’s only one reason why they would send a clipper ship. The thought whispered to her. Only one.
“Grimsby?”
A step forward. “Yes ma’am?”
“Where is she this morning? She usually tells you, doesn’t she?”
“I believe Her Majesty was convinced that the roses needed some attention this morning, ma’am.”
“Ah yes, Grimsby, but which roses? She has so many.”
“The Austins I believe were her primary concern, ma’am. She is worried about how they are adapting to our soil after the long journey from Terra.”
“Very well.” She made herself sit and finish her coffee, drinking in the view and soaking up the peace and serenity of the early morning. There was no better view than she could think of and if she was right- but what if you’re not? The Star Union has plenty of clipper ships. It could be anything.
Keep telling yourself that, she told herself, but no good news comes early in the morning. She drained the last of her coffee, placed the mug on the saucer and stood up, walking towards the edge of the grand staircase that lead down into the gardens, Grimsby just behind her, a constant presence at her side.
Decades before, she had been too young to know what was going on in the Star Union. She had been carefully shielded from the politics of it all. She knew the history. Everyone knew the history, but… she remembered the hands shaking her, waking her in the night. Urging her to get up, quickly, there was no time to pack. She remembered her mother’s face, creased with worry and realizing that she was afraid, seeing her fall behind on her little legs and sweeping her up into her arms. She was safe there. She was happy there.
There were only flashes of memory now, The sound of shoes echoing on the deserted hallways of the Palace. The night sky, so warm, so clear, the stars shimmering above her. She was placed in the transport, near the window and soon they were lifting off. The city was half cast in darkness, flickers of fire and columns of smoke dimly visible, split by the sinuous line of the River Nanda, running through the capitol city.
She remembered her face, pressed against the window, clutching her stuffed gryphon, Archie close as they reached the terminator line between night and day and she caught one last glimpse of the beautiful oceans and the green land of Astralis Prime, heart of the Star Union and then…
Then it was exile and her family had gone back to the Potentate of Cosmara once again, barely a generation after the First Restoration of their dynasty back to the great throne of the Star Union.
A delicate cough interrupted her train of thought. “Ma’am.”
“Hmm?”
“The roses are… that way,” Grimsby nodded to her left.
“Thank you, Grimsby,” she replied, annoyed at her absent-mindedness. It’s because it’s early, she told herself. No good news comes early in the morning. Father would say it all the time. Mother believed it. You believe it too, she admitted to herself.
Finally heading in the right direction, it was the work of a few moments before she finally came around the well-manicured hedge, ducked under a delicate moongate and stepped into the rose garden. There, she caught sight of her wife, Chief Stadtholder and Queen of the Herenveen Staats-Republic, Chief Executive Officer of it’s associated trading conglomerates and companies, Juliana Beatrix Oranje-Nassau, Fifth of her name.
“You bloody thing, I don’t know where you’re coming from, but I will find you and I will-” Juliana was on all fours, gloved hand buried deep into a rose bush, trying to trace back an offending weed of some kind. Charlotte stopped and just watched for a long moment. They were both getting older now. Their children were grown and in the case of their son, Eduardo had just secured the line of succession and made them both grandmothers. Even with the prolong treatments, streaks of grey were creeping into her hair now, but still-
“Enjoying the view?” Juliana asked archly, turning her head to notice her for the first time.
“You know I always do,” she replied. “You also do know that we have gardeners that can do things like this.”
Juliana growled and gave the offending weed an almighty pull before pulling her gloved hand out of the rose bush and holding it up triumphantly.
“We pay them quite a bit of money, you know,” she continued idly as Juliana stood up. “They’re experts at-”
“I know, Charlotte,” Juliana rolled her eyes. “It’s just, I like to sneak out-”
“-leaving me alone in our bed-”
“-and just get some gardening in before the tedious business of the day begins,” Juliana continued.
Charlotte smiled fondly at her wife, fully aware of how quickly she would abdicate should the Staats-General ever get around to deeming Eduardo to be a worthy successor to her. Juliana was a creature of nature, more than anything, far more at home puttering about the Palace gardens or strapping on big, practical waterproof boots to go tramping through fields. She was happiest getting her hands dirty. “I love you, wife.”
Juliana’s face softened and she stepped towards Charlotte, slipping her ungloved hand into hers and leaning forward to kiss her firmly on the lips. “And I adore you, my queen.” She creased her eyebrows, realizing something. “What brings you out into the gardens at this hour, anyway? You should be eating your breakfast still.”
“I started early when I woke to find an empty space in my bed,” Charlotte replied somewhat tartly.
“But, I came looking for you when I heard the ship coming in.”
“Is that what that was? I wondered, but I was…” Juliana raised her gloved hand, still clenched around the offending weed and looked a little sheepish.
“Preoccupied?” Charlotte finished.
“Yes, let’s go with that. So, a ship? It’s a little early for a ship.”
“I thought so as well, so I tracked it with the omnioculars.”
“Anyone important?”
“It was from the Star Union,” Charlotte said. “One of their new ultra-fast pickets. It…” she sighed. “It had the livery of the Duchy of New Georgia on it.”
“Your cousin. David, no, Dean, no-” Juliana frowned in irritation.
“Drake,” Charlotte supplied.
“Yes, him. That’s the one,” Juliana said. “Has he sent any messages? Any word that he’s coming?”
“No,” Charlotte admitted.
“So, it could be just another ship on urgent business for anything, right?” Juliana said. “There might be no need to worry at all.”
“Maybe,” Charlotte said. “But-”
“No good news comes early in the morning.” Juliana finished. She pulled the glove off of her hand and tossed it next to the pile of weeds she had placed to one side along with the garden implements. “Would it ease your mind if we went and find out what the ship wanted?”
“It would, my love, but…” she glanced pointedly at the mess and Juliana flapped her hand dismissively with a mischievous grin playing about her face. “The gardeners can get it.”
“Juliana!” Charlotte sounded scandalized.
“As you pointed out, my love, we do pay people- experts, some of them, to take care of things like this,” Juliana slipped her arm into Charlotte’s and with Charlotte rolling her eyes, but smiling as well, the two of them began to walk arm in arm back out of the gardens and toward the Palace, Grimsby an ever-present shadow in their wake. Charlotte was just about convinced that maybe Juliana was right and maybe she had nothing to worry about, but just as they turned the last corner and the terrace came into view, her heart sank. There was Mr. Vanderbeek, Juliana’s chief secretary, waiting at the top of the stairs for them.
Juliana felt her stiffen and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Pieter,” she called as they made their way toward the steps. “Good morning!”
Mr. Vanderbeek bowed. “Good morning, your majesties.”
“You’re up early,” Juliana noted as they reached the bottom of the steps and climbed up onto the terrace. “What brings you to the Palace at this hour?”
“A delegation from the Star Union has arrived, your majesty. They’re requesting to meet with Queen Charlotte most urgently.”
“Did they say what about?” Charlotte tried to make the question sound casual but realized she probably failed at that and shook her head ruefully.
“They did not, your majesty,” Mr. Vanderbeek said. “But I am told that his Grace, the Duke of New Georgia is the head of their delegation.”
“Drake?” Charlotte broke in, surprised. “He’s here himself?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
“Who else?” Juliana asked.
“Intelligence is working on that,” Mr. Vanderbeek said. “But so far, we have identified the Archbishop of Astralis Prime, the Earl of New Shaftesbury and a Parliamentarian we believe to be Beatrice Boothroyd.”
“When do they want to meet?” Charlotte asked.
“As soon as possible, they say, your majesty,” Mr. Vanderbeek replied.
“Has the government been informed?” Juliana asked.
“Yes, your majesty.”
“Very well, since they’re still renovating Noordiende, we’ll have to receive them at the Voorhout Palace. See to it, please and prepare a ground car for her majesty and myself. We won’t keep them waiting long,” Juliana ordered.
Mr. Vanderbeek bowed. “As you wish, your majesty.” He retreated the requisite five steps, taking care not to turn his back on either woman before, having reached the appropriate distance, he turned and hurried away to make the arrangements.
~
Receiving an official delegation from a foreign power required more of the Queen than it did the Queen Consort, so while Juliana allowed herself to be herded away by various functionaries and ladies in waiting to be cleaned and dressed, Charlotte was left to her own devices. Having decided on a sonic shower over the more decadent option of a water shower, she soon found herself opening the door to her closet, robe wrapped tightly around her.
It was less of a closet and more of a room, but that was the privilege of being a Queen Consort. There were dresses and suits and uniforms for every occasion. The chattering classes tended to notice if she wore the same dress twice, which had bothered Charlotte when she was younger, but now, she no longer cared. Dresses could be worn more than once. She had done so throughout her childhood on Cosmara if for no other reason than her family's reduced circumstances had made it a necessity.
She walked down the length of the closet, lightly running her hands along the dresses, wondering what she should wear. Cousin Drake, the Archbishop, the Earl of New Shaftesbury, and whoever that Parliamentarian is… there is only one reason to send a delegation like that to see me. Her hand stopped and, reaching up, she pushed the dresses back to reveal a simple, unadorned red dress.
Even with the prolong treatments, humanity was not immortal. Her father’s cancer had advanced, inexorably, resistant to every treatment they had tried.
Grandfather even sent his personal physician, she remembered. The Doctor arrived in secret, towards the end, in the dead of night, and tried her best, but… Juliana, always so careful to never even give the appearance of asking for favors or getting special privileges had made a quiet call to the government and bundled her onto the fastest ship Herenveen Prime had. It had not been enough. She arrived an hour after he had gone, quietly, without much fuss, as was his way.
He had not wanted an elaborate funeral. Juliana had brought the children. Cousin Drake had arrived as well, which had been a surprise at the time. All of them, clad in their funeral red, on the lip of the hillside of their small farm, the towers of Cosmara City in the distance, watching as the flames of the funeral pyre climbed higher and higher.
She ran her hands over the red mourning dress, remembering. She had not worn it since that day. It seemed a lifetime ago, but there was only one reason they would be sending a delegation like this. Charlotte took the dress down out of the closet and carried it back into the bedroom laying it across her bed. Then she went back into the closet and walked all the way to the back where the jewelry was kept. She did not hesitate this time. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out her mother’s sapphire necklace, the famous Star of Astralis, the one thing she had taken from the Palace when they had fled into exile.
Charlotte held it up to the light and, leaning forward blew some offending dust from it before nodding to herself in approval. “Yes, this will do quite nicely.”
Half an hour later, Charlotte made her way down the grand staircase to the main entrance of the Palace, where Juliana was waiting for her. She was dressed more modestly- in her usual grey suit with a simple string of pearls and a matching purse, but her lips pursed appreciatively as she watched Charlotte descend, Grimsby behind her as always.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Juliana smiled at Charlotte and then said, “Grimsby?”
“Yes, your majesty,” Grimsby stepped forward.
“Can you check to see where our ground car has gotten to?”
“At once, your majesty,” Grimsby inclined his head and then crossed over to the front doors of the palace and, opening them, slipped through.
Once they were alone, Juliana, cocked an eyebrow at Charlotte. “Red? That’s the color of mourning in the Star Union.”
“There’s only one reason I can think of for them to send an urgent delegation to meet with me,” Charlotte replied. “If my Grandfather has finally died, I will not show anything less than the utmost respect for his memory.”
“Well, you look lovely,” Juliana said. “Every inch an exiled Princess of the Star Union.”
“I hope so,” Charlotte replied.
Grimsby was returning and Juliana stood up as they both walked over to meet him. “You said you can only think of one reason,” Juliana noted.
“What else could it be?” Charlotte asked.
Juliana looked as if she was about to say something, but instead, shrugged and gave Charlotte a reassuring smile. “You’re right,” she said. “Let’s go see what they have to say.”
~
It was half an hour later when they finally arrived in the grand hall of the Voorhout Palace. That wasn’t entirely unexpected. They were both Queens (well, Juliana was the Queen, Charlotte was the Queen Consort,) and as the two of them, arm in arm, walked out of the antechamber onto the dais of the Throne Room, Charlotte had to admit that they both looked the part. Juliana guided Charlotte to her throne at Juliana’s right, before stepping up onto the main dais and taking her place on the Oranjetanuki Throne.
Mr. Vanderbeek was already in place off to Juliana’s left and after a moment to smooth out her skirt, she nodded to him Mr. Vanderbeek stepped down off the dais and walked the length of the throne room before opening the door and vanishing for a moment onto the other side. Charlotte felt her heart begin to beat faster and forced herself to take a slow deep breath to calm down. Juliana is right. Let’s see what they have to say. Another slow, deep breath and she became irritated with herself. Why are you acting like a spoiled Princess? You’re a grown woman and Queen Consort
The doors opened and Mr. Vanderbeek lead the delegation into the throne room and walked about halfway down before stopping, bowing, and then saying: “Your Majesties, an urgent delegation from the Star Union wishes an audience.”
“Their request is granted,” Juliana replied.
Mr. Vanderbeek stepped smoothly aside and the delegation advanced. As they came closer, Charlotte recognized her cousin, Drake. He was grown now, of course, but even behind the beard, she could still recognize him. The delegation advanced and went down to one knee as both Charlotte and Juliana rose to greet them.
“Your majesty,” Drake said. “We bring sad tidings. Your grandfather, the King Emperor of the Star Union is dead.”
Even though she had been expecting the news, the words fell like a hammer blow and Charlotte was surprised at the surge of emotion she felt. After the Revolt that sent her family into exile, her grandfather had been dragged out of retirement as the only acceptable option to both warring factions in the Star Union. Quietly, he had done what he could to make sure her family was comfortable in exile but had never once contacted them. Her only memories of him were happy ones, from her childhood, before they were exiled. She couldn’t bring herself to resent the old man, even now– and if either of her parents had harbored any bitterness towards him, they had never shown it.
“These are sad tidings indeed, cousin,” Charlotte replied. “I appreciate you coming all this way to tell me in person, but a vid-message or a tight beam would have been just as welcome.”
“Your majesty,” Drake said. “While those tidings are the official reason for our visit, we have another purpose here. A purpose of great urgency and import.”
Charlotte frowned. “What other purpose could bring you here so urgently, cousin?”
“We are here to offer you the Crown of the Star Union.”
If the news of her grandfather’s passing had been a hammer blow, this was news that nearly made her stumble and Charlotte felt herself swaying in shock, her mouth open in astonishment. Suddenly, Juliana was there beside her, gently tucking her arm into hers and steering her safely back into her seat. Charlotte smoothed her skirts out, trying to compose herself as she grappled with the enormity of what Drake had just said.
Juliana stood beside her, hand on her shoulder. “On whose authority do you make such an offer, your Grace?”
“Your majesty, with me I have representatives from the nobility, the church, and the commons. Our common desire is that which her majesty’s father and those who came before fought for and represented: a Monarch who governs in the name of the duly elected Parliament of the Star Union.”
“And how is that different from what you have now?” Juliana asked. Charlotte was dizzy with shock, but still managed to nod in agreement, still not trusting herself to speak. This had to be a joke, a prank, something- whatever it was, it couldn’t be real. The Crown? Her?
You could go home. A whisper from deep inside of her.
Drake grimaced. “The succession is contested. My Uncle Phillip-” Drake smiled knowingly as he saw the expression of disgust flash across Charlotte’s face, “-believes that he has the strongest claim. He is opposed by my cousin Hubert-” and his smile was genuine now as Charlotte covered an incipient laugh with a well-timed if artificial cough. “Your majesty, may I…” he shifted uncomfortably. “May I speak freely to my cousin for a moment, not the Queen Consort of Herenveen Prime?”
Juliana glanced down at Charlotte who nodded her assent.
“Cousin, I understand your skepticism and even your hesitation, but…” Drake sighed. “Invite me to dinner tonight. We can have a real conversation about what this actually means.”
Charlotte and Juliana exchanged glances for a long moment before Charlotte nodded and Juliana looked at Drake. “Your grace, it will be our pleasure to have you join us for dinner tonight at our residence at Het Loo. Seven o’clock, sharp.”
Drake inclined his head. “Thank you for your most gracious and kind invitation, your majesty.”
“We will withdraw then and make preparations,” Juliana said slipping her hand from Charlotte’s shoulder. She stood and the two of them left through the entrance they had come in, arm in arm once again.
Charlotte felt like she was in a daze, but allowed Juliana to lead her back towards their ground car. Mr. Vanderbeek was waiting at the courtyard entrance. “Mr. Vanderbeek, I take it you heard?”
“I did, your majesty.”
“If you would inform the Prime Minister and ask him for a full briefing later tonight. I would like to know the government’s opinion of this… unexpected offer.”
“Yes ma’am,” Mr. Vanderbeek replied. “Will the two of you be returning to Het Loo?”
“Yes, we will. The Duke of New Georgia will be joining us for dinner as well,” Juliana said.
“Very well, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vanderbeek.”
He bowed and then stood as still as a statue until they had both walked out into the courtyard proper and reached their ground car. Charlotte slid into the seat, still trying to process the offer that Drake had made back in the throne room. The crown? Me?
You could go home, that whisper again, tinged with hope. But where is home? Charlotte replied in the silence of her head as the ground car manuevered out of the courtyard and onto the city streets. She watched as they made their way down the row of embassies from across the galaxy and then a thought occurred to her.
“Juliana?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Did you know?” Charlotte said. “When I said I could only think of one reason why they would want to see me…”
Juliana said nothing for a long moment before finally taking a breath. “I wondered.”
“But did you know?”
“No,” Juliana replied. “I didn’t. I about fell over when he made his offer..”
Charlotte chuckled. “That makes two of us.” She pursed her lips again and stared out the window, the brief burst of amusement leaving her. “I just wish I knew how real it was.”
Juliana reached over and took her hand. “My love, as soon as we are back at Het Loo I am going to be making all kinds of vid-calls to all kinds of people to see if I can get you an answer to that question.”
~
It was much later. Juliana had withdrawn after the main course, informing them she had some late calls to make. The stewards cleared away the last of the dessert and Drake leaned back in his chair and emitted a loud groan. “God, that was excellent food. I haven’t eaten that well in years.”
“The position does have some privileges,” Charlotte smiled. “We pay our chefs very well.”
“How well?” Drake asked. “That chocolate mousse was to die for.”
“Hands off,” Charlotte said with mock ferocity. “You can’t have him.”
Drake raised his hands in mock innocence. “All right, I surrender,” he said. Charlotte pushed back her chair and stood up, making her way to a small cart of liquor bottles at the side of the dining room. “Shall we adjourn to the terrace?” Charlotte asked.
“With whiskey, one hopes?” Drake sounded eager but pushed his own chair out to stand up.
“Of course,” Charlotte said. She unstoppered a decanter and poured out two generous measures into a pair of elegant crystal glasses before putting the stopper back in the decanter and turning back to Drake. She held out a glass to him and he closed the distance between them and took it from her, Grimsby having heard her proposal and waiting patiently, holding open the door to the terrace, the two of them walked out onto the terrace, and the warm summer night. Charlotte lead them to a pair of lounge chairs and gestured for Drake to sit down before smoothing out her skirts and sitting opposite him.
Charlotte took a sip of whiskey, unsure of how to begin. Happily, Drake did it for her.
“Ask me the question, cousin.”
“What question?” Charlotte asked, a picture of innocence.
Drake snorted in derision. “The one you’ve been wanting to ask me all night. The one we’ve been dancing around through an appetizer, two main courses, a dessert, and now a glass of whiskey.”
“Direct as always, Drake,” Charlotte smiled. “But, very well.” She took a sip of whiskey. “Why me?”
“Why not you?” Drake leaned back in the chair. “Your claim is just as strong as Phillip’s and it’s certainly stronger than that idiot Hubert’s. You have just as much right to the throne as they do if not more.”
“That’s not enough of a reason,” Charlotte replied. “My family has been in exile from the Star Union for a lifetime now. My children grew up here. My life is here. To the people, I would be a historical relic trotted out to serve some political agenda at best and at worst… a foreigner.”
“You say that your life is here now, but you knew the news we were bringing you and still wore your funeral red. Your sleeves hide them well, but you wear the bidari bracelets as well. I’m willing to bet if asked your children, they would tell me of the food and the traditions you still practice as well-”
“So, we celebrate Diwali and Christmas,” Charlotte said. “What of it? There is a thriving emigrant community here and on a dozen other worlds as well. Maintaining and honoring my heritage doesn’t mean I’m fit to lead a country I haven’t seen in decades.” She took another sip of whiskey. “You need to work on your pitch, Drake. I’m not persuaded.”
Drake considered that for a moment, taking another sip of whiskey. “You could secure your father’s legacy, once and for all.” He sat up straight. “Grandfather’s health had been failing for the past five years. Phillip has been defacto regent the entire time and his regency has not been a happy one. Your father was ousted for backing a government that at the time was seen as dangerously radical.”
“I know the history.”
“Yes, but what you don’t know is that your father was ultimately right,” Drake said. “Back then, he knew the Radicals were right. The tax avoidance of the entire nobility was a weight around the neck of the Star Union. The people resented it. The government was drowning in debt because of it, but when the Radicals tried to move their bill through, it was blocked in the Lords, and the only remedy they had to get it through after the second reading was-”
“The Royal Prerogative?” Charlotte asked, surprised.
Drake nodded. “It was a risk, but one he felt worth taking- unfortunately the nobility disagreed- but after the banking crisis a decade back, even the most diehard of the Lords was forced to concede that the tax exemptions were fiscally ruinous and it ended up being a Conservative government that suspended them.”
“And what of it?” Charlotte asked. “My father took on the Star Union’s political elites and it touched off a rebellion that cost him his throne.”
“Phillip has made it clear that he views the suspension as temporary. More importantly, he’s indicated that he doesn’t believe Parliament has the authority to overrule him on the question of taxation and many are beginning to be concerned that he doesn’t believe in the necessity of a Parliament at all.”
“So he’s a would-be Dictator in the making?” Charlotte grimaced.
“That’s what I’m afraid,” Drake said. “But you, on the other hand, would be untouched by the politics of the Star Union. Your father is remembered with affection amongst the common people and Grandfather, to his credit, did nothing to discourage that. You would be able to preserve the Union without plunging us headlong into either an economic crisis or worse, a Civil War.”
“Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” Charlotte sighed. “You’ve fitted me for a crown that I have yet to agree to take and already my head itches at the thought of it.”
“It doesn’t have to be forever,” Drake said. “With prolong treatments these days you could a decade or two, secure your family's legacy, and then step aside for someone else. You could even unify the crowns of Herenveen and the Star Union if you wanted to.”
“Do you ever find the notion of crowns and all this frippery to be a bit ridiculous in this day and age?” Charlotte asked. “Humanity has become a space-faring civilization. We’re spreading further and further out every year, terraforming as we go, and yet they still want us to put crowns on our heads. I’m surprised we haven’t grown beyond it yet.”
“Human society organizes itself somehow into strata. Doesn’t matter what flavor or ideology. We have the titles we have merely because our family was amongst the first stakeholders of the original colony of Astralis Prime. Doesn’t make us better than anyone, not anymore.” Drake drained the last of his whiskey.
“Well said,” Charlotte chuckled.
Drake grinned ruefully. “I’m not selling you on this, am I?”
Charlotte said nothing for a long moment before she too drained the last of her whiskey. “Do you remember that summer lodge Grandfather had down by the coast? Near the village with the funny name?”
“Etretat?” Drake said.
“Yes, that’s the one… named after some old Terran painting.”
“I saw it once when we went to Terra,” Drake said. “The cliffs near that village look nothing like the ones in the painting. And they pronounce it differently too.”
“How do they pronounce it?”
“Etret-ah,” Drake said. He shrugged. “Some weird quirk of an old Terran language. They were surprised that the locals pronounced the ‘t’ at the end.”
“Anyway,” Charlotte said. “Do you remember the hill, right by the beach?”
“I remember it being more of a vertical climb,” Drake said. “But yes, I do.”
“I loved the view from the top,” Charlotte said. “It’s one of the clearest memories I have. You could see that whole stretch of the south coast…” she trailed off, lost in the memory.
“And?” Drake prompted.
“I think,” Charlotte said slowly. “I think it would be nice to climb that hill again.”
Drake smiled. “So you are thinking about it?”
“I might be,” Charlotte said. She stood up and Drake stood with her. “But now, cousin, I need to go to bed.”
“Until tomorrow, cousin.”
~
Charlotte slept better than she expected and still managed to slip out of bed the next morning and make her way out onto the terrace where Grimsby awaited her with her usual morning coffee. She wrapped her robe around her tightly, for the cool of the evening still hung in the air. In the light of the day, she was forced to admit the uncomfortable truth to herself: she didn’t know what to think.
Part of her was tempted: she hadn’t been lying to Drake last night and even though he had shamelessly tried to trade on her nostalgia for her childhood at first, his arguments about her father’s legacy had been more persuasive than she wanted to admit. Phillip would be a disaster for the Star Union and if several members of the extended Royal line were suddenly afflicted with terminal illness or enough of them dropped dead that Hubert’s claim went from punchline to reality, he might be an even worse choice for the Star Union.
There were others, of course, but no one had a stronger claim than she.
On the other hand, this was home. This was where she and Juliana had built a family, raised the children, and- the sound of footsteps behind her broke her reverie.
“Now it’s your turn to leave me alone in our bed, I see,” Juliana smiled as she pulled her robe tightly around herself and sat down in the lounge chair opposite her. Grimsby produced another cup and held it up questioningly for a moment before Juliana nodded and he poured a cup, placed it on a saucer, and handed it over to her.
“I was up late enough and still didn’t hear you come in,” Charlotte replied. “What were you up to last night?”
“Meetings,” Juliana replied. “Too many to count, I’m afraid. Did you and Drake talk?”
“We did.”
“And?”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte said. “It’s tempting. But-” she gestured around her. “We built all this together. It’s our life. Our home. I’m not sure I want to leave it, however tempting it might be.”
“Would it help to know that his offer does appear to be genuine?” Juliana asked. “Our intelligence people were working all night to confirm it, but they’ve got enough sources to be sure that he’s on the level.”
“That doesn’t solve the question of how we do it.”
“The General Staff is of the opinion it wouldn’t take much. Their best plan calls for a lightning-fast surgical strike. You isolate and blockade key points, proclaim yourself, and proceed to Astralis Prime to take the throne.”
“Oh, that easy, huh?”
Juliana shrugged. “That’s what they tell me, anyway. The government also doesn’t hate the idea and is frankly enthusiastic about the possibility of gaining more direct access to their markets.”
“But what about you?” Charlotte asked. “I can’t go to rule the Star Union by myself and leave you here alone. I would… miss you.”
“As I would miss you, my darling,” Juliana replied. “That’s why, if you decide to do this, the government would convene the Staats-General and appoint Eduardo regent in my absence. It’s well past time he was given some real responsibility, anyway, and that way- what? Have I done something-” Juliana looked concerned because Charlotte’s eyes were full and the first tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks.
“You would…give it all up? For me?” Charlotte asked, in a voice thick with emotion.
“Of course,” Juliana replied. “I love you, after all. For decades now, you’ve stood by me, had children with me, and been the best Queen Consort I could have wished for. It is more than past time for you to be Queen in your own right.” She smiled. “Besides, I hear the royal gardens on Astralis Prime are a mess. Your grandfather evidently did not have the greenest of thumbs.”
Charlotte smiled. “I think the real expert was my grandmother, to be totally honest.”
“The only question, my love, remains the biggest one of all. Our children are grown. I have been looking for an excuse to give Eduardo some responsibilities mainly so I could tend to the roses here, but I could just as easily fix up the gardens on Astralis Prime. Drake’s offer appears to be genuine. We can bring the military force to bear quickly enough and easy enough to put you on the throne. So, what do you want to do?
“It seems absurd. I haven’t been back there in decades. I’ve lived in exile my whole life. This is home.”
“It’s not absurd. It also doesn’t have to be forever.”
“Drake said that too,” Charlotte said. “Also said we could unify the crowns if we wanted to.”
“So you are thinking about it?”
Charlotte nodded. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
Juliana smiled. “How could I forget? I chased you up a hill near the University on Cosmara. There was a beautiful view at the top.”
“I loved that hill because it reminded me of a hill along the coast near my grandfather’s summer lodge,” Charlotte said. “If I- no, we do this… will you climb it with me?”
“Yes, my love, I will,” Juliana said. “I won’t ask you to decide now but know this. I think it is well past time for you to be Queen in your own right on a throne of your own. I think the people of the Star Union would welcome a ruler who will respect the government they elect and actually advocate for their welfare. I think everyone who lives in exile harbors a secret dream, a hope of returning home someday. But, my love, my home is with you. Wherever you go.”
It came down to that in the end. That one simple sentence decided it. Charlotte Elizabeth Mackenzie-Nanda, Queen Consort of the Herenveen Staats-Republic looked over at her wife, Juliana Beatrix Oranje-Nassau Chief Stadtholder and Queen of Herenveen Staats-Republic, Chief Executive Officer of it’s associated trading conglomerates and companies. She reached over and took Juliana’s hand in hers. “My Queen, my love, my life,” Charlotte said. “I think I would like to go home again.”

I am NOT OP. Original post by u/imnotperfectsowhat in twoxchromosomes

trigger warnings: emotional, physical, and financial abuse, child endangerment
mood spoilers: hopeful ending

EXTRA REMINDER: Do not participate in the linked threads in any way or message the OOP. You could be banned by one or both subreddits.

 
Original Post - My husband parked his truck in front of my car, removed the car seats and refused to let me leave yesterday in twoxchromosomes - March 13, 2023

Editor's note: I created paragraphs for readability, but the text is unchanged. Also, OOP adds a lot of details in comments - buckle up.

All of this started because I accidentally deleted his meal when ordered food on an app yesterday morning. All of our 3 kids (and us) are very sick with croup and ear infections. My husband woke up in a rage from being sick, hungover and not having smoked any pot because I told him he has to stop smoking in front of the kids. He wanted “caffeine and food” so he could “function.” He put his order on the app and I then did my order and placed it for priority delivery. Unfortunately when I was deleting a meal that I decided I did not want- I deleted his meal off of the app. I didn't realize this had happened until the order had already been placed with priority delivery.
I worked up the courage to go and tell him. I said "I am so sorry please don't hate me but I accidentally removed your meal. I can go get in the car and drive to get you the food that didn't get on the order." He starts getting in a rage about the situation. Takes a look at the app and says "why is this so fucking expensive!? You are making us bleed money!" Again I say "I can go get you the order from the actual store, I have some cash in my wallet." He responds "oh YOU have cash in YOUR wallet?!" And laughs at me. He is getting more and more in a rage saying that all he fuckin needed was some caffeine and a stupid fucking broccoli cheddar bread bowl to make him able to function.
I have recently asked him to stop smoking pot and drinking in the morning so he can be more present so I'm sure this is partially my fault but also I recognize that this is his addiction issue and not mine to solve.. I have tried everything. I notice his signs of aggression setting in so I take the kids in another room. They're all screaming and crying clinging to me and he rips the baby gate off of the master bedroom door and throws it across the hallway. The master door is already ripped off halfway from him slamming it so many times. I'm in the room with the kids and I decide that croup and all we are not going to stay here with him acting like this. I pack 3 bags with the kids clothes and mine and plenty of diapers since all 3 are still in diapers. The order arrives- bell rings he doesn’t answer. Rings again. He says “GODDAMNNIT” opens door, says thanks, slams door and throws the food on table spilling the drinks.
He comes in and says "where are you going? You aren't leaving with my kids." Then he sees I'm packing the bags and says "oh you're packing day bags?! No fucking way." And goes to rip them out of my arms. He twists my wrist while pulling then gives up and drops the bag, and he grabs his keys, rips the car seats out of my Tahoe and throws them in the garage, parks his long bed truck in front of my Tahoe so I can't leave. When he left the house to do this I grabbed my phone and pressed record on voice memo because this is the 100th argument like this over his rage and he always says the worst shit to me about how he will ruin me and take the kids from me. I tell him if he does not move his truck I am calling the police and I have a right to leave. I dial 911 and say "Go move your truck and go put those car seats back in my car right now or I am calling the police. I have a right to leave with my children." He refused and said I am not going anywhere and we can sit here and work this out like adults. I tell him I am done, I want a divorce and I cannot live like this any more.
He said that if I divorce him he is going to take everything from me, I will have nobody, I will have no where to go, I will have no kids and I'll never see them again. He claimed to me good luck getting child support because he makes $250k but only claims $70k on his taxes. He said he has evidence against me to take my kids from me and I'll never see them again. He said he is allowed to smoke pot because it's decriminalized. He couldn't remember the last time he had been sober from alcohol just one fucking day when I inquired about it when stating that I want a divorce I've tried everything, I've shed every single piece of myself to make him happy instead of angry and help him be sober and it's never worked. I said "I do not want you. I used to want you, I used to think I could do it but I can't. I said I want an amicable divorce and he can have the kids as much as he wants. He has to be sober when he has them and if he isn't I'll document it. He said that is not how this is going to play out. I said well I don't know what to do but I'm done I cannot live in fear and anxiety any longer. He looked at me, said the typical "well this is a huge wake up call, I'm gonna throw away all the pot, I'll move the beers to the fridge and I'll get sober."
I don't remember what I said but I just stopped there and went back to my care tasks. I said I have to breastfeed the baby, she needs a nap please leave me alone. I shut the kids door and got her down for a nap and I didn't see him around, I think he was in the driveway putting the car seats back, but left his truck there. He took a hot bath and read a book called "Man in the Mirror" some Christian men's book I guess. He said it's helping him already. He got on the phone with his sober friend while rolling a joint for "a rainy day" he tried to give all the weed to the other dad across the street who smokes but he didn't want it because he's trying to quit. He left the house to "go buy paintbrushes" and came back intoxicated or high after 2 hrs gone. He started love bombing me, hugging me, touching me, kissing me wouldn't leave me alone I wanted to throw up from anxiety. He forced me to put the ring back on my finger. He drank beer and smoked before bed. I just want someone in my life to love me enough to be sober and kind. To love my kids enough to be sober. I don't want to ruin him, I don't want to destroy him. I just want some peace in my life because I deserve that. I am a mom who does EVERYTHING. if I don't- it won't get done. we have an autistic 4 year old, 2.5 year old and a one year old (today is her birthday).
I don't know what to do at this point. I'm broken, I have no job, $200 to my name, tons of bills and no degree. My parents aren't in my life because he made me think they were the problem and I shouldn’t be close with them. We have a beautiful, modest home in the best neighborhood within walking distance to the elementary school. I live on a cul-de-sac with 5 of the best neighbors I've ever had. I've invested so much time into this life with him that I'm thinking I can just stick around and hope for the best but maybe I'm just stressed and emotionally drained. Please help me because I don't know where to turn.

Relevant comments from OOP and others:

u/human-foi-gras gives their perspective

I grew up in a house just like this. Word for word you described my early childhood. The alcohol, drugs, uncontrollable rage and then weeping apologies and broken promises. My mom left just after my 4th birthday. All I remember is screaming, thrown plates and glasses and my dad beating my mother as she cowered over me to take it in my place. I am 35 years old and still in therapy. You need to get your children out. It is your job to put their needs first, and they need to be safe. They are not safe in this environment.

When asked if she can stay elsewhere, OOP replied

I can go stay with his mom about 4.5-5hrs away. It’s spring break but my son has to be back in school on Monday.
Well my son is actually truant and for 45 days he cannot miss any more school I recently also had to hire an autism advocate and get my son switched out of his class and into another class because of some laws regarding disability being not upheld. I’m really trying and at a bit of a breaking point

To which another redditor said

Part of the reason your son is doing badly is because he’s in a abusive, alcoholic, addict home. He won’t get better until he is out of this dire situation. You need to put your love for your kids first or they will end up as addicts in abusive relationships.

OOP seemed to be in denial about the situation:

• It just really sucks because I am sitting here feeling defensive over the entire situation and scanning my post for exaggerations but there just aren’t any. It’s really hard to hear my husband is abusive to me.
  
• I truly love him and honestly want a family life with him but I can’t do any more than I have done at this point I am broken and tired, empty
  
• He does not go to church but it’s part of his image
  
• Maybe I’m just used to it by now and he’s always gone. He’s home for a few hrs in the evening and leaves first thing every morning. I really really don’t want to change things for my oldest and we are all so so sick right now too. Maybe I can ask him to go leave and find somewhere to go until he is in a drug/alcohol program.
  
• I am not leaving my house. I am a primary caregiver to my 3 children who are 4, 2 and 1. I will not lose this residency and I have documented everything. I am pretending I am ok with his current resolutions, telling him to get into AA and stop the substances. If he has another outburst I am calling the police.
  
• I grew up with my dad choking my mom, slamming me against cabinets and pulling my hair out. This isn’t physical
  
• He’s always been angry when things don’t go right. This is the worst event we have had in our relationship I would say. Usually it’s just muttering under his breath and slamming doors really hard and screaming at me. But he’s always been able to go smoke or drink and uses that to calm down. He doesn’t have that any more and that is because of me putting my foot down and saying no more substances in the home.
  

Mini-updates from OOP's comments in the original post

• I called a neighbor and told her what’s going on. I called my brother and he’s removing the guns from the house. I called his mom and she knows what’s going on and is on my side. I called a domestic violence shelter and set up a place to go. I packed a bag ready to leave. I threw away all the pot and poured the beers down the sink. I told my husband that if he ever comes home high or drunk or smokes or drinks again to not come home and find somewhere else to live. I have documentation, I will call the police, people know what’s going on and I won’t back down. I am not going to let him act like that I will call the police and he will be arrested. Today is my last baby’s first birthday- I just want some peace today, to eat some cake and put them to sleep in their own beds. I’m not going to stay if things escalate.
  
• He did it again. He took all the car seats in his truck, shut off my phone and left me alone at the house. I called the police. I’m at my brothers. I have an appointment on Thursday with the shelter to get help. I am at a loss and I feel so so so guilty right now.
  
• I left. He took the car seats, put them in his truck k and left to fix a mistake I made on our daughters documents. He was so angry with me leaving because I told him to stop slamming things and screaming. He was searching frantically for my keys. He couldn’t find them so he took the car seats, turned my phone off, shut off the WiFi and then he left. I called the police. It took them an hour to show up. When they did show up he had already busted through the screen on a window and got back in the house. I told him I called the police and they were on the way. He became so so calm and went to try and get the car seats out of his truck and back into my car before they got here. I went to video record him and he stopped and pretended to take the trash out. They arrived- got me with the shelter on the phone, took a statement for today and Sunday’s event. The woman cop was so so so nice and helped me without telling me what to do but just giving me “the eyes”. She didn’t say “get the fuck out” verbally but I knew she meant it with the looks she gave me. I packed bags, went to my brothers. As soon as I left he cancelled all my card, drained the bank account and turned my phone off permanently. He’s been texting me to come back with his wife and kids. I got a notification he bought marijuana and had it delivered. I am broken. I have no money but just $200 but that doesn’t matter. The shelter people are gonna help me get food stamps and Medicaid and my kids will be ok. I am an idiot for thinking he was different. The people on the phone at the shelter said this is all typical and exactly what abusers do. I am numb and don’t know what the next chapter is but for now I am not being yelled at and my kids aren’t crying and screaming upset.
  

 
1st Update Post - I left my husband after he took the car seats in his truck. in twoxchromosomes - March 15, 2023

Editor's note: I tried to organize this information roughly in the order it was posted.

I know that I updated in a comment on my last post. But I just wanted to let everyone know that I am safe and away from my home. My husband again entrapped me. This time he took the car seats and put them in his truck and left the house. Then he shut off my cards, turned my phone off and shut down the WiFi. I called the police. After an hour and a half waiting for the cops- he showed up and I had locked the doors. He busted through the unlocked window screen and came inside the house that way. When I told him the cops were on the way he looked shockingly calm. Tried to go get the seats out of the truck but I was videoing him outside so he pretended to take trash out. The female officer took my statement and was so sweet and understanding. She didn’t tell me what to do but her eyes said it all. She got her phone so I could call the shelter and they got me scheduled for an appointment with the advocacy group on Thursday. I was able to pack my belongings, as much food as possible and get the fuck out of there. I forgot so much stuff. I was so anxious.
He came back inside because he asked to say goodbye to the kids. He was so dramatic and acting like I was psycho making comments like “why are you staring at me” and “dang that’s a lot of food to take for such a short trip.” I stayed calm and asked him not to shut my phone off again and not shut the cards down in front of the cops he agreed not to. As soon as I packed kids and left he drained our checking, made a new checking account, cancelled all of our cards, turned my phone off and texted me through iMessage saying he loves me and this will be a great reset button. About an hour later he had pot delivered to the house. I am so broken, so sad, I feel so stupid. I love this man so much but I have to divorce him. I cannot let him continue to treat me this way. I want some peace and happiness so badly that it hurts. Someone please comfort me with some resources and tips because I can’t sleep sitting here watching bluey way past when the kids went to bed. I am so sick to my stomach and my entire body is feeling the shock of todays happenings. Thank you so much to this community. I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I wouldn’t even be calling this abuse if I hadn’t made that post and heard from each of you. I want y’all to know i read each and every single comment and took it all to heart. Blessings to each of you women from the bottom of my heart. In 20 min it will be a new day here in Texas and my new life will begin.

Relevant comments from OOP

In response to a comment with steps on how to proceed safely, OOP replied

This is the best comment that I could’ve read right now. The actionable steps are helping me stay calm. I see a light on the other side of this comment. I will be ok. He is the one who is doing wrong right now.. not me. I took screenshots of our bank accounts emptied and how he made himself a new card and shut off all my cards and resources to money. It’s so sad that he would let our kids have no money and punish me rather than be a normal person and want me to have resources. I’m realizing he only wanted me to have these things if I was with him.

Mini-update from OOP in comments
Can everyone please help me? My husband just sent me this text and I am utterly confused at this point. He is such a smooth talker. I have absolutely no idea how he knows about the neighbors helping me. :/ “I saw that you brought by your mother and the neighbors yesterday afternoon… sorry that the house was a mess as I left early around 7:30 for work and really wasn’t in a mindset to pick up after everything the day before. I’m genuinely happy to see that this has brought you closer with your parents, it’s a silver lining out of this whole situation.
It is disappointing though to see you escalate this whole situation well beyond what is truly necessary with the cops and all of this drama when Marriage Counseling, Church and short term separation are logical progressions that we could’ve pursued. We always said that the best marriages handle their problems with eachother directly - so I really don’t understand why you have the desire to continually “air out dirty laundry” with the whole neighborhood/family when I only speak highly of you to others… some of the twisted truths that I’ve heard you tell people are just flat out lies, dark fabrications or embellished stories to portray the victim when we could all just be honest, forth coming in order to grow from the situation! There is so much potential in our relationship if we just joined together to grow emotionally, mentally and spiritually - but it seems like our growth has stalled by us not seeing eye to eye and carrying hurt from words that have been said in the past in difficult, trying moments. For that I really am sorry. I know that while I have never gotten even remotely physical and hardly raise my voice or call names - arguing or just having a conversation with me can be incredibly exhausting and tiresome. I love how you are emotionally the heart of the home - I really feel that you are my own pulse! But know that when you are frantically anxious, juggling the world on our plates feeling like it’s all going to collapse - I am here in the same boat as your copilot, I feel the same way and really just want to cling to you while trying to be the rock for this family (trying to keep the boat from sinking). As we both continue our paths to TRUE sobriety, I really feel like we will become more in tune with eachother, the kids and God. Daily I feel more present and in tune with my own needs and the needs of our family!
With no possibility of erasing the past, I am going to give you and the kids space and time while still providing in any way I can and working on myself…
I will maintain a clean house and pour myself into projects to make a real suitable home for our family, leaving an open door and always leaving a light on for any time you want to come and go as long as nothing vindictively gets stolen or goes missing. I will reconnect your phone as long as there are no further attempts to hack into our accounts, and as long as I receive at least a photo of each child every morning and night and at least one FaceTime call with just the children for ten minutes or more every day. I will provide payments, insurance and maintenance on you and the children’s main source of transportation in the Tahoe. I will establish your own separate checking account where I deposit $500 weekly specifically to be used for the children’s needs.
This is above and beyond the Texas MAXIMUM Child Support Limit of $2750 a month for three kids, but more than the money - I just don’t ever want any of you to suffer or be without.
I know that with this being a new thing and everything still being raw, that seeing eachother might be difficult at first - but please consider letting me see the children at least twice a week on Sunday’s and Wednesdays… I not only want to (and have the right to) maintain the relationship as their father but I really would like for you to start getting a break.
So disappointing that it seems like right when we were all on the cusp of things being great, I just seem to find a way to fuck things up - but I hope you know how much I want the best for you as I’m just hoping and praying that all of this is temporary…
You are my best friend, my wife and my life partner - I will always love you!
I will and I am going to be better.”
Like what the actual fuck man. :/

Other relevant comments from OOP

OOP finds that her husband has been tracking her

HELP I HAVE TWO APPLE AIR TAGS THAT JUST STARTED BEEPING HOW TO I DISABLE THESE

• Right now is the first moment I’m having today to calm down and center myself. I’m breastfeeding my last baby. I keep reminding myself that he’s the one who did this- not me. My kids are struggling to adjust. Lots of tears and my autistic son isn’t doing well right now coping without his routine and his space. Thank god for his favorite show SpongeBob and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I made sure to bring his special plate he always eats on. Today I waited for my family to come by and go with me to get a protective order, then a police escort to my house. While waiting for my family- I heard a beeping and realized an air tag was going off in my wallet. He located me. He immediately texted me saying the address where I am. Said he’s coming here if I don’t send pictures of the kids. I didn’t respond. Waves of panic and anxiety entire body trembling crying so scared.. I called the police. They showed up. Nothing he could do. He was looking at me like I was insane and just kept saying “I don’t know what you expect me to do.” He left. Family came and we went to courthouse to file order. They told me i can fill out 1.5 hrs of paperwork for a 2 year restraining order that is very difficult to obtain but encouraged me to take it to my meeting tomorrow with the shelter and they know what to do to help me get my safety in order. Immediately after leaving he texted me “what were you doing at the courthouse.” I called the shelter and they helped me disable any location services on my phone. I debated for hours if I should go get my stuff. I knew it was my last chance. He gets off at 7. At 2pm I showed up to my house- knocked on every door and told all my neighbors to please call the police if he pulls up. Two neighbors helped me grab every single stitch of my kids clothing, remove the magazine from the gun and get all my documents, clothes, food, toiletries and my VERY personal journals with my thoughts and feelings from the past years. I’m so numb. I’m so drained. But as I took the last load of dirty clothes in a hamper to my car and shut the door, I started laughing. I felt more proud of myself than anything I had ever done. I am safe- I won’t go back. I’m filing for divorce tomorrow.
  
• He must be a psychopath because I don’t know how what he did is legal whatsoever. I didn’t file a protective order and I’m regretting it because he can become so unhinged so quickly.
  
• I am really tough and have been through so much adversity in my life but I feel like this is absolutely crushing. Nothing has ever hurt like this. Thank God I come from a long line of really strong freaking women and had the power to just say “enough is enough” and go get the life I deserve. I’m leaving behind everything I’ve known- trapped inside 4 walls. I’m so attached to my house because it’s been my prison. But I’ll find roots somewhere new again soon.
  

After speaking with the DV shelter, OOP adds

• I spent 2 hrs giving my account of his abuse. They said in 3-5 business days I’ll get an advocate to help me get my life put back together, find a lawyer, file for divorce with full custody. They also gave me tons of pull ups and toiletries. I am so thankful. It’s so weird not paying for the stuff I felt really guilty because I used to have lots of money. I shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have done this to us.
  
• I do have enough food because I am staying with my brother. I have 1/4 a tank of fuel and now I’m down to $170 left. I am so hopeful for the future right now. My brothers girlfriend put me on their phone plan but I’m not giving him this new number because there’s gonna be a protective order
  
• Thank you! Luckily I have a HUGE support system about 20 people deep. My neighbors bought diapers, my best friend got me a bra and she’s bringing groceries. I’m utilizing the services of the shelter too. I have my kids, shelter, clothes, food and peace. He only THOUGHT I didn’t have anyone. He said I would be fucked, poor and alone if I left him. I’m feeling happier and lighter than I have in a very very long time.
  

 
2nd Update Post - My husband put an air tag in my vehicle. The count is up to 3 air tags now. - March 17, 2023
Hello it’s me. I am safe. The kids are safe. My resources and support are here helping in anyway they can. Today CPS showed up to my place of shelter. They said my husband told them where I was when they could not contact me because he shut my phone off. They told me he put an air tag on my vehicle. I just did an entire interview with them. I was so scared when the process started - but after they left I felt so supported. They validated that everything he is doing is abuse- he is in the wrong. They told me DO NOT GIVE HIM THE CHILDREN. They said do not answer the door, do not go anywhere until your car has the air tag removed. My brothers girlfriend is taking it right now to the police station. I still haven’t got a protective order. I don’t know what the hold up is but I am so so scared. I listened to the recording of the Sunday fight again (it was so traumatizing all over again to relive that) in the recording when I said I want a divorce he said he is going to end my life. I’m picking up my new phone today with an entire new number. I am really scared everyone. He knows where I am, he knows now that I told CPS he is abusive. The principal of my child’s school is my husbands bosses wife. CPS said the domestic abuse advocates will have to use their attorneys to get my son in a new school right now. Everyone pray, send good vibes, cast a spell, whatever it is that you do… please do it for me right now. I am terrified and I don’t know how much more I can do than I have done. Let this be a lesson to all of the people with abusive partners- turn the “find my iPhone” off BEFORE you leave. Stash money back. Call the shelter. Make a plan. They will try to destroy you and any kids you have together when their image is threatened.

Relevant comments from OOP:

• We just found the air tag. It has his initials on it. We took a photo of where we found it. Crazy. I am in shock honestly.
  
• The person who took my car to the police station used an app to alert her. It did not alert her until she was back home. We found it, she pulled up the application and it showed a map of everywhere she went in my vehicle. One of those places was the police station - she took a screenshot of the map showing the locations being tracked. I hope this is enough evidence for court.
  
• He has no idea at all [about my Reddit username] and has no access to my email this is linked to. If he did- I think of this as just another way of documenting what’s happening on top of screenshots and written records.
  
• The second I got to my shelter I changed all passwords for socials like Snapchat and Reddit. (I deactivated my Facebook and instagram last year) I changed my email address password to a completely new one, made a new iCloud account, took the family iCloud off of my iPhone. When I got a new phone I made a new iCloud again that isn’t linked to him whatsoever. I’m hoping I covered all my bases. I’ve ran safety check like 10 times and I’m still paranoid he’s somehow able to know where I am. I hope all of this tracking and stalking stops soon. It’s sad to be cooped up in the house with the kids instead of going to the park and playing outside.
  
• But yes I do need protective order. I have no idea why they won’t get it to me ASAP and I have to keep waiting
  
• [My son] won’t go back to school until the protective order is in place. They are using attorneys to quickly help switching him schools
  
• I totally understand your question and I don’t think you are being insensitive. I’ve dealt with lots of insensitivity for the past 7 years. I think the most extreme is he would rip the kids from me somehow or physically harm me. But at the least he would come get all the car seats out of my car or steal my vehicle because he is on the title. I’m not sure how I can protect myself more than I have. I am really tired of being afraid though and my body needs a rest from the anxieties soon.
  

 
3rd Update Summary - March 19, 2023
OOP states that she is exhausted, but relieved to have left and that she is getting help from family and the DV shelter.
 
4th Update Summary - March 21, 2023
OOP was concerned that her husband's wealth would leave her helpless in the divorce and was feeling homesick. She also states she has a recording of her husband threatening to kill her if she called the police or tried to divorce him.

Relevant comments from OOP:

• I’m just scared I won’t find somewhere I can afford and I will displace the kids beyond repair. I keep feeling so guilty for leaving!! It’s so dumb to feel this way
  
• I have been out for 6 days. All the adrenaline has worn off and I’m just.. like really empty feeling besides my kids spot in my heart. He took up so much room.
  
• He didn’t threaten to kill himself he threatened to “end your life” as in my life.
  
• I talked to the detective today and I’m hopeful. He admitted to bugging my car and I have the recording of him threatening to end my life so hopefully it’s enough. For now I just feel scared and helpless to even file the divorce.
  
• That hits home so hard. I did come from an abusive home where I was a caretaker of my brothers and sometimes my parents. I think that I learned how to survive then and I’ve been surviving since. I hope to give my kids a better life
  
• And I am trying to be so kind to myself and figure out how to care for myself because I definitely didn’t have time or energy to care for me while taking care of him.
  

When someone asked how things are going otherwise, OOP replied

It went well. I have access to a ton of resources like therapy for myself and my kids, communications between CPS, my advocate and the police being streamlined so I don’t have to handle it all myself, food, clothes, shelter all that. Next week I meet to find a low cost or free attorney who can help me save my future. I also talked to the detectives today about assault and criminal stalking. I’m praying tomorrow the judge will approve the warrant and he will go to jail and I’ll get the protective order so my kids can be back in their own home and back to a routine. Can’t even take my oldest to school until this order is in place. It’s sad because he’s stopped making my Tahoe payments, going out and spending all his money on weird stuff that’s $500-$1,000. I believe he’s gonna hire the best attorney he can and try to say I’m mentally unstable. Which I’ve never been diagnosed with anything, never on medications nor had an “episode” of any sort.

 
5th Update Post - I’m here to update everyone who helped me last week! - March 24, 2023
Y’all. What a crazy week. There were many moments I wanted to give up, throw in the towel and go back to life with my husband. I decided to stay strong, celebrate the small wins I made for my kids and I and ultimately hand every bit of evidence over to the police, CPS and detectives. My husband was arrested yesterday for stalking. The kids and I have a 61 day protective order. My husband has to wear a GPS monitor. He was arrested AT WORK in front of everyone!! Of course he’s telling everyone I’m crazy… doesn’t even matter to me right now. I’m back home! (SUPER YAY!) My son got to go back to school, my little two are so much happier and I have a pantry/fridge full of food, plenty of diapers and more clothes than I had before because I ASKED FOR HELP. I didn’t “play the victim” like he said I am. I just told the truth, took care of myself and the kids and celebrated the small moments of happiness. My husband is telling police I’m bipolar, I physically abused him, I was stalking HIM (lol), I set up booby traps and planned this and that I only did all this because I was on my period. huge sigh This has been so insane and I keep telling myself “he did this, not me. He gave me no choice.” A quote that’s helped me a ton right now is “Women are not rehabilitation centers for broken men.”
Thank you thank you thank you to all of y’all!! Couldn’t have done it without this community!

Relevant comments from OOP:

• I am seeking a 1-2 year protective order with specific requirements for the kids and I and how we communicate. Right now I’m taking a little breather because it’s been a stressful week!
  
• Gotta do the most and hope for the best ya know. I have security at the home and I’m watching over my shoulder everywhere I go. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being scared but I have to try and be brave, cautious and calm right now.
  
• The police were doing the most they could. I took it to an officer, he made an hours worth of notes documenting all the stalking and threats, he made a report, two detectives took the case and they got a judge to sign off on an arrest warrant for stalking and PO for me and the kids. Any other women going through this- document EVERYTHING, get out, call the police, call the DA’s office. They WANT to arrest these people for breaking the law and they want to keep YOU safe.
  

 
6th Update Post - Hi, it’s been 2 months. - May 18, 2023
I’m not sure if many of y’all remember me. I was in an abusive marriage (technically still married) to a man and have 3 small children. This sub helped me to 1) identify I was being abused and in a toxic relationship. 2) figure out how to get out safely and securely 3) navigate the legal system for my safety.
Because this group helped me so much I wanted to give a small update and say that the EPO was issued 61 days. Before that expired I was assisted with a 2 year protective order from the DA’s office and he signed the order this week. The judge granted a restraining order for the kids and I until we can go through divorce and custody court. He has still not given me one cent, he is apparently in AA, going to battering prevention courses, going to church and “wants his family back.” Despite all of these things he “is doing.” I don’t care. I’m done with the relationship. I have never been more calm and less “crazy” as he loved to call me. My kids are ok and don’t seem really to have even noticed. This is really only super hard right now because I have no money and my parents have had to provide all my groceries and gas.
I worked with the women’s shelter and I’ve had so much help it’s really mind blowing. They assisted me in retaining an attorney, food stamps, food bank, diapers and wipes, therapy, childcare, crime victims compensation, police, getting in contact with the DA and many more things.
For anybody who needs help getting out of an abusive relationship, don’t be afraid to call the hotline, let someone know or research (safely) what you can do to get out and be secure after leaving. I have my first court date where I will see him in less than 48 hrs so I just wanted to update and remember how I have a whole army of strong women who helped me get here that believe in me! Thank you again to everyone. I will always be so grateful that I got out at the very first point of wondering “is this a normal relationship?”

Relevant comment from OOP:

When I reconnected with my parents my mom had 6 months of therapy under her belt and they both have been sober for about 9 months now! I called my dad on the day we went in to shelter and my mom and grandmother came the very next day to help me with whatever I needed. I spend every weekend at my parent’s house and our relationship has never been better! It’s crazy how when you’re in a toxic relationship you sometimes think everyone else is the problem and can’t change just because your partner refuses to change and is the main problem in your life! I had lots of apologies and owning up to isolating myself from family that I had to do. I’m so much better with a support system of about 20 family members and 10 close friends than I was with one small, angry and abusive man as my “everything.”

 

Editor's note: Ever since her escape, OOP has been encouraging other women to seek help.

Reminder - I am not the original poster. Do not participate in the linked threads or message OOP.

I have been with my husband (42M) for just over 9 years, and married for 6.5 of those.
My husband is pretty great to me. He constantly says how appreciative he is of me and says I’m the total package. We communicate effortlessly and co-exist nicely. We are able to advocate for our own needs without taking things personally. If there’s ever a sore spot or any growing tension, we nip it fast, and he’s great at listening and working to change a bad habit. He’s confident and sexually open-minded within the bounds of our marriage. He has varied hobbies and is a great conversationalist.
The not so great about him: he’s dealt with major weight issues all of his life. I’m talking at one point he was 500 pounds. When we met, we were both on health journeys, and by the time we got married, we were both normal weights. Years of dieting, getting established with careers, moving, family dynamics, and personal growth - we both let loose on our honeymoon, which ended up being the start of both of us spending the next several years gaining almost all our weight back.
We’ve both addressed our issues around food, realized there’s some co-dependency around it, and this year with our lives being relatively stable, we are back on individual paths to better health and fitness. At the worst of the pandemic he was back up to 460 pounds. He’s now down just over 100 pounds from that. These physical changes have been awesome for our intimacy and sex life. We are having sex more frequently and the quality of it is improving.
We also suspect that he’s neurodivergent. He’s got some amazing natural skills and talents, but also has some shortcomings that we’ve worked to accommodate. This comes through in several ways. One being his hygiene. We have had to talk about this several times, and I know it comes from just not thinking about it. It was mainly in the frequency he showered and brushing his teeth. At its worst, he would go 4-5 days with no shower. After I caught onto this, it was a huge turn off for me. I would avoid intimacy and awkwardly figure out when I felt like I needed to pipe up and say something. Same with his teeth. He would go a few days without brushing, which was actually a worse offense to me than the showering.
I encouraged him to get back to a dentist after not going for over a decade. His first few visits back were met with several cavities to take care of, along with a tooth extraction. It took lots of time and money which ended up sort of scaring him into being really on top of his teeth. He showers most days of the week as well. However, I still know it will always take work for him to remember to do it. I have always been someone who pretty much showers daily. It’s just part of my routine and I don’t think about it. It all made me realize how huge hygiene is to me and how it affects my levels of attraction.
He is also not a very motivated person. He despises working. He works and brings home a steady income, but it’s a huge drag to him. It leads to lots of negativity around working and awkwardness with work culture. It doesn’t matter the job, he is just not driven to work or have work define him, which is fine. I actually appreciate having his perspective with questioning social norms. But his default mode is selfish. I am just about the only person that exists that he will accommodate and go above and beyond for. But even that is because he knows I generally have a higher standard of living for myself. If I wasn’t around, he would work as little as possible and do as little as possible to maximize his free time.
Luckily, he never balks at much. Even if I have to gently remind him (after giving him space to arrive to the need on his own), he is always cool with getting something done. For example, if I want his help with vacuuming or something, he gets on it with no pushback or moodiness. But again, cleaning/organizing/mental grocery listing and general “running the house” stuff isn’t at the forefront of his brain, so I end up taking the lead on those things, with the agreement that he would like me to be direct and to the point with asking for what I need instead of me waiting for him to guess and then me resenting him. Still, it’s hard not to be a little resentful that I carry most of this emotional labor.
He is totally fine remembering the frequently needed upkeep, like dishes, trash, scooping cat litter, laundry, and everyday tidiness. It’s the stuff like vacuuming, cleaning bathrooms, cleaning pet bowls, dusting, and harder to notice stuff that he doesn’t think about.
The other big sore spot for me is that he is a homebody mostly. For every one thing we do together, my appetite for socializing and adventure is like 3 or 4 times his. This isn’t in a week or any particular timeframe. It’s just that if we do one social thing one weekend, he’d prefer to skip a lot of the next few things. I don’t even need it to be social with friends. I would like to do more with him. Basically, he’s really black and white with what he likes and doesn’t like. And it’s exhausting trying to work around that. For the most part, I do go off and do things on my own, or join friends by myself. But man, if I had it my ideal way, we would be doing the vast majority of stuff just me and him. My preference would be to seize the weekends together and be more spontaneous and adventurous. I would love to be able to say, “hey wanna spend a weekend in NYC in a few weeks?”, and then he says, “yea, that sounds fun!”. But instead, he has to consider everything, how he’ll feel, and overall how it affects him. It ends up being exhausting and stifling of what my true nature is.
Lastly, he’s acutely aware of the state of the world and where we are headed as a society, and he lets it color his perspective. We’ve talked about this a lot, and he recently decided he was ready for an anti-depressant. It’s actually helped a lot by lifting that dark cloud off of him, so I’m thankful for that. But it’s still hard for him to shake his nature (or habit?) to be skeptical of peoples’ motivations.
With all these not so great things about him, what I love is that he puts in the effort to change and be a better version of himself. The difficult part is that even with him constantly being open to growth, there is still a part of me that is not happy. And I don’t know why. I have a husband who is so willing to “do the work”, yet I’m still wanting more.
Needless to say, I’m realizing how much the years of prior toxic relationships, a new marriage, a cross country move, family drama & loss, job changes, and the pandemic, had on me emotionally. All the major milestones in my life are over. It’s led to too much time to think about a lot of bubbling emotional trauma in my life and I see how it’s manifested in my feelings about my marriage.
We have lots in common, our sense of humor is similar, our music and pop culture taste is similar. We respect each others’ need for space, he’s a great cook, a great pet dad, romantic, contributes financially, is awesome at anticipating my needs, and generally thinks the world of me. He literally tells me he could not do better than me and that he is so grateful for me. But…I just don’t feel that same way towards him. I love him, but I don’t know, I want to feel that way towards someone too. I have always been hyper independent and capable, and I guess that comes through as feeling like he’s not adding to my life, because I can run my life on my own.
To make things worse, I have a male friend (34M) that I’ve gotten close to that is starting to rip at me emotionally because…he seems like everything I want. Nothing has happened, but I do worry I will put myself in a situation that would be morally wrong. I get that emotions get messy when shit like this starts to come into play. Of course he isn’t perfect either, but his unique combination of attributes, personality, character, and view points is super desirable to me. I am trying not to let the grass is greener facade guide me, but it’s hard when I have a living example in front of me.
I have never had anyone so overwhelmingly make me question if I did the right thing by choosing my partner. Sometimes I worry I let my husband choose me and I just went with it, because I hadn’t yet emotionally grasped that I can have my own needs.
It’s making me really upset because I know that I already have something with my husband that most people envy. I exemplified his character flaws, but he is still a loving, attentive, and emotionally intelligent partner. Why can’t I be happy with what I have? Why do I have this gnawing feeling that tells me “you would be happier with someone else”? By the way, I have been feeling this way for probably a year and a half, before this other figure was in my life. It comes and goes, but seems to be increasing in frequency and/or intensity.
For anyone thinking that I’m trying to find excuses to be with this other guy. It’s not that. It’s mostly that I fantasize of having time all to myself to figure out exactly what I want. I would want a partner at some point, but I would want plenty of time to figure out exactly what is important to me. I just feel terrible that, on paper, I have no reason to end things with my husband.
Not going to lie, part of the dilemma is that I know this would shatter my husbands’ world. He says he found his dream girl in me. But I don’t feel he’s my dream guy. I have a life of putting myself second, and am in a career that only strengthens that because I’m in a helping people type field. I hurt for how much heartbreak and destruction I would cause him.
I don’t know what this is that I’m going through, but I feel unfulfilled, and I don’t know why. It is so confusing and I can’t think clearly. I don’t know what to do next. Oddly enough, this week I am having a girls’ trip with my aunt (56F) and cousin (25F). Tonight, my friend (40F) who lives locally stopped by and she was delving into some details about a new relationship that is going well. She is entering uncharted territory with the guy and is having trouble with next steps. My aunt, who has had a few relationships in her life, said, “if I can give you only one piece of advice, it’s listen to your gut”. That made me feel so much worse about how I’m feeling. It wasn’t advice for me, yet it felt too close to home.
TLDR; Been with my husband for 9 years. We mesh pretty well but he has some character flaws that have been bugging me. He has been very proactive at changing and making accommodations to succeed, yet I still feel unfulfilled with him and don’t know why. We get along and communicate so well that it’s confusing to figure out if my gut instinct is telling me something or if he’s doing the right things by changing his ways and I should be more patient.

** Fri 5/26 *\*
Fri 10:30 - 11:30 AM Mindful Movement - Yoga in the Park North Domingo Baca Park, 7521 Carmel Ave NE Come break a sweat, get a deep stretch in, and then grab lunch at one of the food trucks afterwards! Meet us on the small grassy area just west of the dog park. Bring your own mat and water! See you there!
Fri 12 PM Pistachio Cream Ale Release Tractor Brewing Company, 118 Tulane Dr. NE We’ve been holding off releasing this one of a kind brew specifically for ABQ Beer Week! Inspired by pistachios produced right here in New Mexico this brew is as smooth as silk and as tasty and a fresh roasted pistachio. This is a very limited one off for us, so come and get you a pint or growler while supplies last
Fri 1- 6 PM Tap Takeover Tap N Taco, 1120 State Hwy 528 NE, Rio Rancho Stop by during ABQ Beer Week from 1-6 p.m. for some of the best tacos in town and a pint of Steel Bender beer...we're taking over their taps! COMPA Blue Corn Lager, Raspberry DYNAMITE, Mañana Hazy IPA, and Hefe Lifting will be available
Fri 5 - 10 PM Friday Night Fever Vol. 1 Expo NM Home of the NM State Fair, 300 San Pedro Dr. NE Local favorites edition! Come enjoy some of the cities favorite artists in a variety of genres, dance, shop and have fun •Modified Car Show! *please respect the spot, no burnouts, revving, etc.* FREE ADMISSION INTO EVENT. $7 parking charge. Event is hosted exclusively by Desert Sun Event Productions DBA Delectable baking Co in partnership with EXPO NM
Fri 6 - 9 PM Variety Dance CSP Dance Studios, 1624 Eubank Blvd. NE Welcome to the city's biggest variety dance! We'll be playing all kinds of music: ballroom, latin, country, swing, you name it! $10 cash/check at the door (sorry, no card or Venmo, CashApp, etc.) Welcome lesson from 6:00-6:30pm
Fri 6 - 10 PM Luau Disco Night Tractor Brewing Company - Westside, 5720 McMahon Blvd., Bldg 5, Ste A We're celebrating the start of summer on our patio with DJ Fishbowl for Luau Disco Night! Come dig in on some tiki drink specials, old and new age disco tunes, eats from RioTacos and if you wear your best Hawaiian shirt enjoy dollar off drinks!
Fri 7 - 11:30 PM Steely Dead a Sonic Fusion of Steely Dan & The Grateful Dead Lobo Theater, 3013 Central Ave NE Steely Dead: A National Touring Band with a Unique Fusion of Grateful Dead and Steely Dan. Hailing from the vibrant music scene of Denver, Colorado, Steely Dead is a national touring band that has captured the hearts of music lovers with their unique blend of Grateful Dead jams and Steely Dan grooves. Comprised of four exceptionally talented musicians - Dave Abear on guitar, Matt Abear on bass, Chris Sheldon on drums, and Dylan Teifer on keys - Steely Dead has gained a dedicated following with their electrifying performances and soulful interpretations of classic tunes. Get ready for a night of musical magic as the Lonn Calanca Band takes the stage to deliver their impeccable interpretations of classic Jerry Garcia Band jams in support of Steeley Dead! With the incredible talents of Kelly Wilson, Josh English, Tony Orant, and Rachel Ross, this show promises to be a delectable feast for the senses. So whether you're a devoted dead head or a lover of all types of music, prepare yourself for a savory and thoroughly satisfying night that's guaranteed to fill you with good vibes and good times (tickets)
Fri 8 - 9 PM Club Fuego Cake Nightclub, 515 Central Ave NW Introducing the new club Fuego every Friday night live. Every Friday night we will be spinning the top latin hits from DJ Julio and other top DJs. To kick it off, we are having no cover charge and drink specials all night long. Join us for $4 Dos Equis, $ Lone River Ranch Ritas, and $5 shots of Patron.Checkout our second floor with local DJ's playing top 40 and hip hop hits
Fri 8 - 10 PM Magic & Comedy Night Beer Week Edition Tractor Brewing - Wells Park, 1800 4th St. NW Dave Grimm is New Mexico's favorite bearded, balded, fake shaman-man! The night will feature his interactive close-up bar magic, yes with our beer in his tricks, and a stage show where he will make you think he can read your mind (can he?). Joining Dave will be two of Albuquerque's top comedians: Caleb Mulkey and Bryan Andrew Lambe! For this special edition we’ll be doing some sweet Tractor giveaways as well!
Fri 8 PM - 1 AM Disko Rumba Sister, 407 Central Ave NW Cumbia, Retro Reggaeton, Merengue, Dembow, Y Mas! Puro Pinche Pari! Sounds by Priejo! (tickets)
Fri 9 PM - 2 AM Synergy Effex, 420 Central Ave *All 3 levels of Effex Nightclub* UKO Records & Pirate Radio have curated this beautifully unique combination of artists to synergistically envelope you into a brand new soundscape. Activate your senses in a personal one on one session with Satya’s Meditative Light Therapy for a cosmic experience. Shop local designer Disco Liquid Studio. QuannumThrow will take you on a visual journey to enhance the synergistic soundscape (click link for full schedule and lineup)
Fri 10:30 PM The Third Saturday in October - throwback tribute to 80s slasher flicks with deranged love & humor! The Guild Cinema, 3405 Central Ave NE BONUS! PRODUCER FRANK CRAFTS AND THE ART DIRECTOR ELLAR COLTRANE (OF BOYHOOD FAME!) WILL BE IN PERSON FOR TALK/Q&A! Friday 10:30pm ONLY! Check out the trailer. Jay Burleson - 2023 - 99m - ALL SEATS $8. October 1979. Ricky Dean is a man on a mission. Years ago, he lost a child at the hands of a psychopathic killer named Jakkariah Harding. When Harding escapes Death Row, Ricky Dean throws himself into the line of fire to stop him from killing again as Harding preys upon a group of friends gathered to watch a college football game. An authentic throwback to the golden age of the slasher genre, THE THIRD SATURDAY IN OCTOBER is both a loving tribute to the films that created the horror franchises we know and love as well as an effectively creepy chiller for the modern age
** BOTH SAT 5/27 AND SUN 5/28 *\*
Sabaku Con 2023 Albuquerque Marriott Pyramid North, 5151 San Francisco Rd. NE Don't miss Albuquerque's largest and longest running Anime and Gaming convention. Held at the Marriott Pyramid Albuquerque over Memorial Day weekend (more info and tickets)
** SAT 5/27 - MON 5/29 *\*
New Mexico Wine Fest Balloon Fiesta Park, 5500 Balloon Fiesta Pkwy An annual Memorial Day weekend tradition, with over 20 wineries, great food and live local music, what's not to love. This is our second year featuring our garden theme, and we welcome you to wander in the wine garden with us and enjoy the beautiful New Mexico sunshine (more info and tickets)
** Sat 5/27 *\*
Sat 9 - 10 AM U.S.S. Bullhead Memorial Clean Up! 1606 San Pedro Dr. SE Albuquerque is worth the work to keep beautiful! Please join me fellow Burqueños at the U.S.S. Bullhead Memorial park litter clean up! Trash bags and gloves will be provided to you at the 9AM check-in; please meet in the parking lot. There are also 4 extra litter pick up sticks to loan for the hour so be there early to grab yours! Please remind your family and friends not to litter!
Sat 9 AM - 4 PM Refuge Scavenger Hunt Valle de Oro National Wildlife Refuge, 7851 2nd St. SW Stop by the refuge's visitor center any time between 9AM and 4PM to take a scavenger hunt walk and receive a prize upon completion. Fun for all ages and FREE! (Prizes will be given out while supplies last)
Sat 9 AM - 6 PM Customer Appreciation Day! Osuna Nursery, 501 Osuna Rd. NE We love our customers! Join us for our annual Customer Appreciation Day at Osuna Nursery!
Sat 10 AM - 3 PM Car Wash + Dine to Donate Gecko's Bar And Tapas Too, 5801 Academy Rd. NE Help the Atomic Sisters Rugby Team get to the National Championship! We travel to St. Louis, MO June 2nd-5th for the Final Four and a shot at the title. Join us for a car wash PLUS a dine-to-donate fundraiser (25% of all food sales go to the Sisters)! Car wash will run 10am-3pm and dine-to-donate will run all day! Thank you for your support!
Sat 10:30 - 11:30 AM Mindful Movement - Yoga in the Park North Domingo Baca Park, 7521 Carmel Ave NE Break a sweat, get a deep stretch in and grab lunch at a food truck afterwards! Meet us on the grassy area just west of the dog park. Bring your own yoga mat
Sat 10:30 AM - 12 PM Wellness Schedule Casa Rondeña Winery, 733 Chavez Rd. NW, Los Ranchos Open to people of all skill levels, Wellness + Wine is a one-hour, outdoor practice, followed by a glass of wine or Sangria, and an invitation to stay and relax on the grounds of the beautiful Casa Rondeña Winery. This experience is $25, and includes glass of wine. Discounts apply for winery members. Reservations are required to participate
Sat 11:30 AM - 12:30 PM New Mexico Entertainment's Morning Toons The Guild Cinema, 3405 Central Ave NE Grab your pajamas and your blanket, and take part in this Saturday morning event with your family and friends. New Mexico Entertainment Magazine brings you cartoons from your childhood on the big screen at The Guild Cinema. Kick back, have some breakfast, and enjoy the toons! The ticket includes admission and breakfast. Morning Toons is a LIMITED seat event
Sat 12 - 11 PM Ciderday Night Fever Space Disco Tractor Brewing Company, 118 Tulane Dr. SE We're featuring some of our amazing delicious ciders in flights and of course in goblets for you goblins. This year we’ll be featuring four limited one off ciders made by us, then at 8pm DJ Ren will be laying down some psychedelic disco on the ones and twos to get your apple tree shaking!
Sat 12 - 6 PM Bear Fest 2023 Boxing Bear Brewing Co., 8420 Firestone Ln. NE Music, Samples & Pints, Craft Vendors and Food Trucks. This is a 21+ event. Please leave your kids at home. Parents with kids under 21 will not be allowed entry to the festival. Get a babysitter and enjoy yourself! Tickets are available exclusively on Eventbrite. Purchase online before coming to the gate. GENERAL ADMISSION $25.00 - Available two weeks before the festival and at the gate - Includes entry to the festival , Commemorative BEAR FEST pint glass, four 4oz sample tickets and one full pint of your choice. DESIGNATED DRIVER $10.00 - Entry to the festival only, Designated driver wrist band, must still be 21+ to enter (click event link for list of participating breweries, vendors, and music lineup)
Sat 1 - 9 PM Party in the Park - Focus Edition Roosevelt Park, 500 Spruce St. SE Now that the weather has gotten better, it's time that the Focus fam gets back together for another Party in the Park. We've missed getting friends and family together and coming together for the love of the music and our DJs. This is a family-friendly event and open to all of our friends and relations (click link for full lineup)
Sat 1 PM Family Art Workshop Albuquerque Museum, 2000 Mountain Rd. NW Inspired by Ronald Rael's installation Glass Scaffold in the atrium courtyard we will make our own geometric sculptures. Use toothpicks, colored popsicle sticks, and glue to create a mini-masterpiece
Sat 2 - 5 PM Rebel Paws Rescue is hosting a FUNDRAISER Lizard Tail Brewing Industrial, 3351 Columbia Dr. NE Come out and help homeless dogs with your donation of a water bowl and help raise money for your own health with Evolution Strength and Conditioning Gym, Albuquerque’s premier LBGTAI+ gym!
Sat 2 - 6 PM Flying Legends Cutter Aviation, 2502 Clark Carr Loop SE The Flying Legends event will be held at Cutter Aviation at the Albuquerque International Sunport, and will feature the B-25 Mitchell "Maid in the Shade". Enjoy networking with Women in Aviation, Land of Enchantment chapter members and spread the word about our chapter at our booth! We would like to have volunteers at our booth in two shifts, from 2pm-4pm and from 4pm-6pm (more info)
Sat 2:30 - 4:30 PM Argentine Tango Practica Albuquerque Square Dance Club, 4915 Hawkins St. NE Presented by the Tango Club of ABQ (TCA), a nonprofit dance club. Tango practica is great for practicing Argentine tango, vals, and milonga, meeting other tango dancers, having fun, and being part of the tango dancing community. No partner necessary. Open to everyone, all skill levels. 2nd and 4th Sundays from May to Oct: Milonga at the Old Town Gazebo, Romero St. NW and San Felipe St. NW
Sat 4 - 5 PM East Coast Swing Group Class Enchantment Dancing, 337 San Pedro Dr. NE Welcome to our Bronze American East Coast Swing Class! Whether you are a newbie stepping on to the dance floor for the first time or a seasoned professional wanting to brush up on basics, as well as anyone in-between, this class is for you! East Coast Swing is an exciting, up-beat dance that is endlessly versatile! No partner necessary, and dropping in is fine! Class cost is only $10, and a punch card for 6 classes is $50
Sat 4 - 8 PM Pop Up Market Vegan Village, 1321 Eubank Blvd. NE Join us for another evening of fun, live music, DJ, drinks, great eats and sweets! We will also have a great variety of vendors for everyone to visit throughout the evening. Family friendly and companion animal friendly as well! Don't miss out on the most unique eats in town! Everyone is welcome! Make sure to RSVP on our eventbrite page to be entered for any giveaways and to let us know you are coming! Live music by the band Baracutanga! Special guest DJ Nalgona Superstar!
Sat 7 - 10 PM Night In The Sound Garden Drag Show Revel, 4720 Alexander Blvd. NE Drag Brunch Wasn't Enough? The Haus Of Attack Has Your Back! Join Us For An Evening Of Memories, Fun, And DRAG! Your Favorite HOA Is Back In The Sound Garden! Bringing You A Fierce Cast, Jessica K. Daniels, Trey C. Michaels, Divyne Intervention, and Busy B! Hosted By Your Favorite Duo, Assma Attack and ViLette Stratton. Seating For This Event Will Be Open Seating Unless Reserved VIP Lounge Seating Is Purchased
Sat 7:30 PM Road Warrior Comedy Show Dry Heat Comedy Club, 521 Central Ave NW, Ste G Chuck Parker Comedy and Crosslines Media present another edition of the Road Warrior Comedy Show! May’s show is sponsored by Red Door Brewing Company (downtown)! Featuring hardened standup veterans from all over the country! This month's headliner: Zach Abeyta was voted Albuquerque The Magazine’s ‘Best in the City’ in the category of comedian! This show WILL sell out, so get your tickets now! Featuring Benny Martinez & Kate Anella With your host Chuck Parker
Sat 9:30 PM - 1 AM Sabor Latin Nights Damacio's Bar & Tapas, 722 Central Ave SW Join us for Albuquerque's hottest Saturday Salsa / Latin Dancing night! Music by DJ GABRIEL GOZA. Free Salsa/Bachata lesson @ 9:30pm. Mixing up los sabores de Salsa, Bachata, Timba, Reggaeton, Mambo y mas! Full Bar / 21 & Over / $10 cover / Kitchen open until 9:30
Sat 10:30 PM Rosemary's Baby Guild Cinema, 3405 Central Ave NE God is dead. Satan lives. Advance tickets automatically entered for giveaways from Spectral Youth and Dark Room Horror
** Sun 5/28 *\*
Sun 10 AM - 2 PM Block Party 2469 Corrales Rd., Corrales *Open to the community!* We are proud to host a community block party in celebration of our practice's one year anniversary! *Food truck (The Munchie Truck) *Drinks *Yard games *Bounce House *Silent Auction benefiting local student scholarship funds *Community and networking. Hosted by Enchantment Upper Cervical Chiropractic
Sun 10 AM - 2 PM Star Wars Historic Lobo Theater, 3013 Central Ave NE THE HISTORIC LOBO THEATER along with Albuquerque Film & Music Experience is excited to bring Star Wars back to the big screen! Showing Starts at11:30AM Tickets are ONLY $10 for General Admission Brunch and a ticket is ONLY $21. Exclusive brunch menu: made-to-order pancakes, mimosas, and more! 10% off if you come in your pajamas!
Sun 12 - 2 PM Family Paint Party Urban 360 Pizza Grill and Tap House, 2119 Menaul Blvd. NE Join Hannah and in just about two hours, while you’re sipping on a glass of wine, beer, or drink of your choice*, our performing artist will guide you through a painting step-by-step. At the end of the night, take home your own unique masterpiece - you will be amazed by what you can do! We provide everything you will need for use at the event: canvas, paints, brushes and even a smock. You just bring your fun-loving friends and have a few drinks! Please arrive 15-30 minutes prior to start time, especially if you have a large group. This will secure seating with your friends and allow you to order your drink before the event begins. **Event is for 16 and over. Must be 21+ purchase alcohol. No children allowed
Sun 12 - 5 PM The GameTime Trade Show Hinkle Fun Center, 12931 Indian School Rd. NE Attention, Sports and Pokémon Collectors – The Countdown is On! The 28th of May is about to become your favorite day of the year! The GameTime Trade Show is landing at Hinkle Family Fun Center! We're going full throttle with epic card trades, camaraderie with fellow collectors, and treasure hunting for your next favorite addition! Ready to cash in on your card stash? Get your spot in line by dialing GameTime at (505) 294-3087. Join the excitement, amplify your collection, and mingle with the best in the business!
Sun 12:30 - 10 PM Memorial Day Sunday - Veterans Play for Free Empire Board Game Library, 3503 Central Ave NE Military members current and former come in and play for free on the Sunday preceding Memorial Day
Sun 3:15 - 6:15 PM Tablao Flamenco Albuquerque Matinee Show Hotel Albuquerque at Old Town, 800 Rio Grande Blvd. NW Tickets. Doors open at 3:15 pm. Performance begins at 4:00 pm. Albuquerque, NM, is the Flamenco Capitol of the United States. Immerse yourself in this deep, culturally significant art form every Friday & Saturday night, and Sunday afternoon at Hotel Albuquerque. Through a unique partnership based on cultural preservation, Heritage Hotels and Resorts and the nonprofit National Institute of Flamenco have joined efforts to create Tablao Flamenco Albuquerque. At Tablao Flamenco, the passion and energy of flamenco come alive as you experience flamenco in its most intimate, powerful setting in the heart of historic Old Town. Featuring a world-class line-up of artists, the Tablao Flamenco presents a dynamic schedule of performances, featuring premier artists from Spain and the United States
Sun 4 PM Bad Bunny Day Party Effex Rooftop, 420 Central Ave Back again with a Bad Bunny DAY PARTY! Bad Bunny themed drinks by Beto The Bartender & Bad Bunny Music ALL DAY LONG! DJ Spunjy in the mix!
Sun 7 PM DYSTOPIA Industrial Dance Party JUNO, 1501 1st St. NW Monthly industrial dance party returns! Dj $uspence and red-209 bring the latest and greatest in industrial dance! It's a DYSTOPIA, dress and dance accordingly!
** Mon 5/29 *\*
Mon 5 - 9 PM Adult Coloring Night Tractor Brewing Company - Westside, 5720 McMahon Blvd., Bldg 5, Ste A Come color with us! We got the sheets, markers, pencils, and crayons! ALL FREE! Every Monday
Mon 6 - 7:30 PM Cuban Salsa National Hispanic Cultural Center (upstairs), 1701 4th St. SW This is a weekly Casino (Cuban) Salsa course focusing on techniques, figures, rhythms, music and body movements of Cuban Salsa. Basic Pasos 6PM - 6:30PM. Figures/Combinations 6:30PM-7:30PM. Cost: $60 /Month paid up front or $20 drop in rate per class. No Partner or previous experience necessary, just desire to learn, have fun, and dance with amazing people interested in dancing Casino Salsa! WE WILL: * Learn important fundamental elements (patterns, steps, and musicality) for a solid foundation in Casino. Salsa * familiarize ourselves with music and rhythms (clave) * start with basics Casino steps and incorporate new basic elements each week * learn the roles and responsibilities for Lead / Follow so each person understands the importance of their part * incorporate dancing separate from your partner (Salsa suelta aka shines) * Further in our progress we will incorporate Cuban Rumba and Afro-Cuban dances influenced by folkloric traditions in Cuba * learn figuras (combinations) that are usually identified by colorful Spanish words that characterize or describe the movement, for example: the call “Sombrero” refers to the HAT figure * dancing "a tiempo" or "contra tiempo" (with time or against time) or dancing with "the melody" or with "the clave". Faster Timba music is usually danced "a tiempo". Slower music like Son is danced "contra tiempo" Salsa is unique to each person.. so bring your sabor and vamoooos a bailar!

​
Calling all foodies and beer lovers!
I recently discovered a hidden gem that combines exquisite cuisine with a fantastic selection of craft beers – River Falls Restaurant. If you appreciate both incredible food and a great brew, this is the place to be.
At River Falls Restaurant, you'll find a menu that celebrates flavors and culinary creativity. From tantalizing appetizers to mouthwatering entrees, each dish is thoughtfully prepared and beautifully presented. And the best part? They offer an extensive beer list featuring a wide range of local and craft brews that perfectly complement the flavors of the food.
Whether you're a fan of hoppy IPAs, rich stouts, or refreshing ales, River Falls Restaurant has something to satisfy every beer enthusiast's palate. The knowledgeable staff can guide you in choosing the perfect beer to pair with your meal, creating a harmonious dining experience.
Beyond the food and drink, the cozy and welcoming atmosphere of River Falls Restaurant adds to the overall enjoyment. Whether you're dining with friends or having a solo food adventure, you'll feel right at home in their inviting space.
So, if you're looking for a dining destination that offers delectable cuisine and an impressive beer selection, make sure to check out River Falls Restaurant. Your taste buds and beer-loving soul will thank you!

We are almost at the end. The next post will be the last of this story, which has taken far longer to tell than I planned. Thank you to everyone who is still following along. If you're here for the first time, this all started here. The previous part (Part 6) is here. The final part (Part 8) is here.
------
The crickets sang a symphony in the darkness. We huddled together between the trees on the Manor side of the wall. I slowed my breathing, but my heart refused to be anything but a jackhammer inside my chest.
She was gone now. The dark haired girl called Ally. She had worked some magic of the mind and my friends and the trees and the Manor wall and the dark night sky had melted away. I managed to break free, but I didn’t fully understand quite how, like a child performing a complex task for the first time. I did not know if I could repeat the escape. I hoped I wouldn’t have to. At the end I saw her, not the façade she presented in the forest, but the flesh and bone Ally, and she was on the move. There could only be one destination, Windhaven Manor. And that’s where we, The Séance Club, planned to go.
Parker panted next to me. “What was that?”
Juliet looked over my shoulder and to the wall. “It was her?”
“Yes.”
“What does she want?”
“To keep the dead from telling their secrets. We don’t have long if we want to stop her.”
What scant light there was from the moon disappeared under the treetops. We felt our way forward, afraid the lights on our phones would give us away on this side of the wall.
The cold night air numbed my face and fingertips, but what lay ahead was colder still. It was like there was an open door letting in an icy cold breeze somewhere. The footsteps of Parker, Beth and Juliet crunched and slid behind. I paused at the sound of more footsteps up ahead, but these sounded hollow. The faint glow of a figure, a girl robed in white, shining with a dull luminescence. She weaved her way through the trees, face pointed towards the Manor. And then another, and another. The girls from the dungeon, they were here in the forest with us. The Manor drew them near, shining like a beacon.
The trees thinned and the Manor rose up in the darkness, an imposing cube pocked with rectangles of light from the windows. Any further and they could spot us traversing across the lawn in the open.
It was here that we came to the edge of the bubble that extended into the sky and curved to form a gigantic dome over the Manor. Inside it would dull whatever sixth sense I possessed. The murdered girls from Hugo’s dungeon came up to the edge of the dome and stopped.
“What is it?” Beth said.
“The girls from the dungeon are here. There’s a barrier and they can’t pass it.”
“What do we do?”
I shrugged.
Someone approached from our left. I was the only one who turned to face him. It was Leon. The man we found hanged from the rafter. I last saw him disappearing into the forest after the noose around his neck broke in my hands.
“I thought that was you,” he said.
“What are you doing back here?”
“I had to come back. I don’t know why.”
He motioned towards the girls, sliding between the trees at the perimeter of the barrier installed to protect Windhaven Manor from the dead. “That’s them isn’t it?”
I nodded. “I found them in a dungeon on the other side of the wall.”
He watched them stony faced. For him they had been rumours, muffled screams on cold and quiet nights. Jane Laughlin’s appearance through the trap door in the stable confirmed all his worst fears. Terrified and bloodied, she put a face to all those cries for help. Now he had more faces to add.
He let out a long and deep sigh. “I had a family to feed. The pay check bought my silence. It is no excuse. I failed them.”
“I think a lot of people failed them.”
We looked up at the house through the overhanging branches.
I said, “Some of those involved are inside that house. We have evidence in there that could bring them down. But we need to get it first.”
My eyes scanned the garden surrounding the Manor. Manicured lawns illuminated by the light spilling from the windows. If anyone were watching, they would see us immediately.
“There is another way inside,” he said.
“What other way?”
He pointed to the far side of the lawn. In the dull light cast by the upper floor windows, a low-height stone wall ran in a straight line perpendicular to the house before disappearing in the gloom.
“There is a service entrance,” he said. “We used it to haul barrels of beer and whiskey into the cellar below the kitchen. It’s undercover most of the way. They built the lawn over the top to hide it. You will have about ten paces between the tree line and the entrance, no more. At night you can’t see the entrance from the house.”
I searched the darkness at the edge of the light from the windows.
“I don’t see it.”
“It is there, trust me. But it will be locked.”
“Where is the key?”
“I don’t have a key, but there is a set of bolt cutters in the stables.”
I turned to Beth, Juliet and Parker, they watched me intensely. I explained the plan. Parker volunteered to run to the stables and fetch the bolt cutters. I had offered to do that part myself until Parker rightly drew attention to my clumsy fall on the first run to the stables.
After the darkness swallowed Parker, Leon held up an arm and pointed the way.
“Walk in this direction. You won’t miss it, even in the dark.”
I opened my mouth to say a thankyou that never came. An intense darkness invaded my mind and my heart lurched into my throat. Ally. She was close. We were running out of time.
Leon forced a smile. “You have to hurry. Good luck.”
Beth and Juliet and I scrambled around in the darkness searching for the entrance. We kicked around in the wet grass. I rolled up my sleeves and searched until my fingers burned from the cold.
“Are you sure it’s here?” Beth whispered.
I jogged forwards and on the fourth step stubbed my toe against something hard. My knees came down on a heavy timber door laying horizontal to the ground. It was overgrown with grass and weeds.
“Over here.”
We heard Parker come back and Juliet guided him with a hushed voice. I felt around on the door and found the handle and a thick padlock. Parker handed me the bolt cutters and I squeezed until the blades cut the metal with a ping. We breathed together in the silence waiting for shouting or any sign of alarm from the house. Nothing. Maybe our luck was turning.
Parker leaned in and pulled open the door. Damp and stale air wafted up from underground.
“Let’s go.”
I looked out behind to the edge of the bubble and Leon was gone. I peered into the black of the woods. I had an unshakeable feeling someone was watching. Not the man from the stable, or the girls from the dungeon, but someone else. I took a step away from the open door and squinted. A pterodactyl thrashed its wings inside my stomach.
Parker’s hissed up from below. “Are you coming? Do you want them to see us?”
We huddled close together on the other side of the door. Beth found a light switch and a series of globes mounted to the top of the wall flicked on. Brick walls enclosed each side barely shoulder width apart and above a mottled grey concrete roof, chipped and cracked with age, low enough to reach up and touch.
At the far end stood a thin door that opened into a basement stacked with old timber barrels. Shelves lined the walls, dust gathering in grooves that once held bottles of wine. A timber staircase led up to the ground floor.
“Where is the laptop?” I asked.
Parker touched his chin. “In the library. I finished setting up the cameras and put it on a shelf.”
“We need to get it and bring it back here.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I’ll come with you.”
The door opened into the kitchen. Parker slid the door open a crack. The kitchen was dark and quiet. He opened it the rest of the way. We tip-toed across the tiled floor and to the rear of the grand staircase. The lights were on in the gallery, but it was empty and quiet. We flitted across the open space and cut in through the library door.
From outside came the sound of metal scraping against concrete. Parker went for the shelf and the laptop and I went for the window. Outside, the spotlights illuminated the charred carcasses of the cars burned by the goons from the black van.
Another man was there with the goons now. I strained to see his face. He turned and caught the light. Police Chief Crown, dressed in black, a hood pulled over his head. He struggled with something big and heavy. He half-dragged and half-rolled the object into the light. A large, empty oil drum. Crown lifted a black bag and tipped it upside down above the barrel and poured in the contents. Reams of paper, individual sheets missing the barrel and fluttering to the ground. Other objects too, I could not make them out. They clattered and clanged against the thin metal wall of the drum.
When three bags worth were in the drum Crown disappeared and came back with a small plastic container. He opened the lid and gave it a sniff before pouring liquid into the drum. Petrol. He was going to burn the evidence. Crown stood over the barrel and pulled something small and shiny from his pocket. He held it up in the light. The gold necklace that hung around Jane Laughlin’s neck on the day they murdered her. He held the necklace over the barrel and hesitated and then stuffed it back in his jacket pocket. Crown lit a match and dropped it in the barrel, his face bright in the burst of light.
Headlights pierced the darkness, and then the drone of an engine. The black van. It rolled all the way to the front door and stopped beside the barrel. The passenger side door opened and Ponytail exited and approached Crown. They nodded at each other.
The side door slid open and Beanie pulled a bound figure from the back. Harvey. The three men hauled Harvey inside.
We held our breath as they thudded down the hallway towards the gallery and the staircase leading up to the second floor.
“We have to get out of here,” Parker hissed.
About to answer, I dropped to my knees. In the pit of my stomach something clawed and wrenched. I pushed my palm to the pain. I turned back to the window. It was her, Ally. She was so close now. Somehow I knew it. A second set of headlights shone dully through the curtains.
“It’s her,” I said.
Parker didn’t stop to ask who and pulled me to the door. “Let’s go.”
Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs and softened and then a door slammed shut. We peeked around the corner and, seeing the staircase empty, hurried back to the kitchen and descended into the cellar.
Parker filled in Beth and Juliet between panting breaths. He sat on the bottom step and worked frantically at the laptop, tapping on the casing as he logged back in. When the screen flashed to life, we saw the feed from the camera looking up the driveway.
A black BMW parked behind the black van and a small figure emerged. Ally. She strode confidently to the door.
Parker toggled through the other feeds. The dining room empty. The staircase empty.
Parker had positioned a camera upstairs looking back at the bedrooms at the front of the house. The door of the bedroom I slept in was ajar and the light was on.
“Harvey is in there,” I said, verbalising my thoughts. “We have to go up and get him.”
Parker’s head dropped. “We came in here to get the laptop and the evidence and we have it. We have them on camera. Burning our cars. Burning evidence. Dragging Harvey upstairs.”
“And what about Harvey? We can’t leave him behind. He bought us time while I was in with Jane, he made it possible for us to escape.”
“They’ll go to jail,” Parker pleaded. “We act fast. We go now and run and find the nearest police station and show them this. They’ll come.”
“And if we’re too late? We need to get Harvey back. We need evidence that links these guys to what happened in that house on the other side of the wall. If we fail, the worst of their crimes will go unpunished. Unknown. Forever buried in the silence of death. We’ve come too far to baulk at the final hurdle.”
Beth took a deep breath. “Sam is right. We are the only ones who can make this right. We’re all in.”
Juliet nodded in agreement. “We’re all in.”
Parker sighed. “You know I’m with you.”
Crown and Ponytail and Beanie strode towards the gallery and disappeared from view. Parker toggled to the camera facing the stairs. The three men met Ally at the base and after ten seconds of discussion they headed for the front door.
I turned to the three of them. “Now is our chance. I am going up there and getting Harvey out. ”
Parker toggled to the outside camera. Beanie and Ponytail took out shovels from the back of the van and disappeared off the screen. Crown followed.
Juliet leaned towards the screen. “What are they doing?”
Parker shrugged. “Digging a hole for Harvey?”
That didn’t make sense. Why take him upstairs?
Juliet bowed her head. “There’s something below the oak tree in the garden. I felt it.”
I jumped in. “Jane’s body. They’re going to dig it up and remove it. Scorched earth. Leave nothing behind. That’s how we link them to Jane’s death.”
Parker turned up his palms. “Except I don’t have cameras out there.”
“We’ll go,” Beth said. “We’ll go and record it. You have the hand held camera in your bag in the dining room right?”
Parker nodded.
“We’ll do it from the window. We’ll stay out of sight. And if they see us then we’ll come back down here.”
Parker sighed. “Well it’s a plan at least. What do you want me to do?”
I tapped him on the back. “Stay here. Be our eyes and ears. We’ll keep our phones close by. Text us the play by play.”
Parker put his hand to his forehead and made a salute. As we climbed the stairs he called out. “Don’t dawdle. I will leave you behind if I have to.”
We parted ways at the base of the staircase in the gallery. Juliet and Beth crept to the front of the house and the library with its enormous windows looking out over the corner of the house. I climbed the stairs.
Carefully, I put each foot down on the narrow strip of carpet running down the centre of the hallway. Ahead the door to my room was closed, a thin strip of light at the base. I stopped and listened. Windhaven Manor was silent.
I reached the bedroom door and turned the handle inch by inch until the latch clicked.
Harvey was strapped to the chair that stood by the mirror, leaning forward, his head lolling. A strip of fabric gagged his mouth, pulled so tight it forced his mouth open. Dark blue and purple welts rose above each eye socket. Spots of blood covered his shirt, wet and fresh.
He pulled at his restraints when he saw me, but they did not give. I went to him and untied the gag on his mouth.
“You have to get out of here,” he said.
“I came here to get you.”
“They will come back.”
“Then we have to be fast.”
I went to work on the ropes tying his hands together. The knots were thick and I struggled to make headway. Harvey pulled and twisted, but the ropes held fast.
“This is taking too long. I need a knife, or scissors.” My toiletries bag sat atop the sink in the bathroom and inside were a pair of nail scissors. They weren’t big, but they would be more effective than my fingers. “Wait here.”
“Where do you think I’m going?”
I rifled through my bag and found the scissors and shoved them in my pocket. I checked my phone. A message from Juliet. We can’t see. Heading outside to get a better look.
I typed a message in response. Stay inside. Don’t let them see you. Before I could hit send, the phone vibrated and broke my thoughts. A message from Parker flashed up on the screen. Someone is heading for the stairs. Crown and someone else.
I texted Parker, Who?
Parker responded, I don’t know. Someone new.
The final image I saw of Ally in the car flashed into my mind. There had been a man in the backseat of the car with her.
I went to the railing and peered over. Soft footfalls and the shoulder of someone wearing black. My heart leaped into my mouth. I looked ahead to the room that held Harvey. I had to somehow get Harvey loose before they came. Together we might have a chance.
I ran to the bedroom and closed the door behind and locked it.
“Someone is coming,” I whispered.
I pulled the scissors from my pocket and started hacking at the ropes. The tiny blades were ineffective against the thick rope. The door handle rattled and a fist pounded three times. They were here. It was too late. The door splintered beside the handle and then broke free of the frame with a second kick. Vincent Crown lowered a leg ending in a big black boot and pushed the door all the way open. Crown stepped into the room followed by a tall man with thick black hair. He wore a black suit. The man from the BMW.
I dropped the scissors into Harvey’s palm and raised my hands.
“Crown,” Harvey said.
Crown scoffed. “I told you years ago to drop the investigation into the disappearance of those girls. You should have taken the hint.”
“It was you. All along the man I was hunting was you. Did you kill her too?”
He smirked. “You got a little too close. But we took care of it. Buried everything where no one could find it. Until this lot came along.”
He nodded his head towards me.
The man in the suit spoke in a quiet, even voice. “Bind him.”
Crown dropped a black sports bag on the floor and pulled out a length of thick rope. He threw it at my feet and smiled cruelly. “On your knees.”
I stood as a statue, my limbs failing to comply with the request. Crown sighed and grabbed my arm with a pair of thick hands and twisted until my shoulder almost popped. He forced me to the floor with the swift movements of a man trained in the art. He grunted as he put me back to back with Harvey and lashed my arms to the same chair that held him.
The man in the suit took a step towards us and reached into his jacket pocket. “Good.” He pulled out a pistol and pressed it to Crown’s temple and pulled the trigger. The crack took my breath away and I blinked away the stray blood that sprayed over my face. The smell of it almost made me vomit. Crown’s lifeless body pitched and slumped to the floor, his eyes wide open.
The man in the suit kneeled before me. “Sam, if what Ally has told me is true, you are a remarkable talent. Our organisation is always on the lookout for capable new employees and I would like to extend a formal offer. You can choose to come with us, or you can die here with the rest of this Séance Club.”
I looked to the door. The man smiled and gave a quick shake of the head.
“No one is coming. We have your friends. We were watching as you watched. You got in because we let you in. Each step of the way we have been one step ahead.”
My voice broke. “No. You’re wrong. This isn’t over.”
I kicked my leg and let my phone fall from my pocket. It clattered to the floor. The screen illuminated with new notifications. I saw only the latest one, from Parker. They found me too. They’re on to us.
I pictured him, hiding in the corner of the cellar as footsteps thundered down the stairs. Scrambling into some dark corner, a temporary respite that would not last. The lights flick on and he is exposed.
I pictured Beth and Juliet creeping towards the old oak tree in the garden to get a view of the men digging up Jane, creeping closer and closer. When the lights blind them, they put up their hands and drop the camera.
Were they already dead? No, I would feel it, wouldn’t I? Suddenly I was unsure.
“Sam?” It was the man in the suit. “Join us Sam. I have worked with people like you my entire life. I know your pain. I know the loneliness, the isolation. They don’t. They tell you they do, they could never understand. Come with us. We will open our arms and for the first time in your life you will have a family.”
I shut my eyes and turned from the hideous smile of the man in the suit. He chuckled in my ear and released his hand from my shoulder.
An explosion of sound burst through my head. A sudden vibration radiated out from my chest, as if I were imitating the growl of a lion, and yet I made no noise. I coughed and heaved, my body rejecting something vile. I knew this feeling. I had felt it in the dilapidated house beyond the wall when they shot Kyle Schwarz. Someone, somewhere close, had just been murdered. They were dead. My friends were dead. In my mind’s eye I heard them shouting in anguish.
The man in the suit lay a cold hand on my shoulder. “You feel it don’t you. I can teach you to control it. I can teach you to rid it from your mind.” He exploded his fingers and mouthed a ‘poof’. “Just like I taught her.”
My whole body shook. I let out a muffled scream. In my mind I cried out for Juliet and Parker and Beth and shut my eyes tight at the thought of their demise. Darkness and ugliness invaded my head.
I opened my eyes and there he stood. The spectre of Vincent Crown. At first bewildered, and then clenching his fists in rage. He peered down at his lifeless body. Blood leaking from a small circle on his forehead.
Crown lashed out at the man who stood over me, the one who split his brain with a bullet. Crown’s anger flowed through my veins, a river of hate. I turned away, but there was no escaping it.
“It is so strong in you. I see it. I sense it. What Crown has become is a demon you can slay, you have the tools, you only need a teacher. Come with us Sam.”
Heavy footfalls turned his gaze away from me. Ponytail and Beanie. He barked at them.
“Take Crown. They cannot find his remains here with the rest of them.”
The spectre of Crown seethed as they dragged his lifeless body from the room.
The man in the suit turned back to me. “Last chance Sam. This house and everyone in it will soon burn. Though it would pain me to destroy a creature of your talent, I will do as I must.”
Somewhere deep down a survival instinct cried out. It told me to go with him and save myself. I had seen one house burn tonight. I did not need to imagine what it looked like for a fire to consume everything in its path. The man smiled at me. He read the doubt on my face. I pushed it down.
Fingers brushed against my wrist and then gripped hard. Harvey. The implication tensed my muscles and I fought to prevent my face giving it away. The only way he could reach my arm is if he freed himself of the ropes binding his wrists. It was all the encouragement I needed.
“I’m not coming with you.” My voice shook. I forced a smile.
He nodded and blew a little air out his nose. “So be it.” He stood and strolled out the room and shut the door behind him.
Harvey sprang into action the moment the door closed. He let the ropes that had bound his wrists fall to the ground, frayed where he had hacked at them with the nail scissors. Tiny cuts on his wrists dripped blood to the floor. He went to work on the ropes binding his legs.
“Where are the others?” he said.
“I don’t know. Parker was hiding in the cellar below the kitchen. Beth and Juliet went outside to film the men digging up Jane.”
Jane. I had failed her. By now her remains were in the black van. They would drive her off the property and dump her somewhere, forever unmarked. And her spirit lay bound on a bed below the house she fled to in hope of salvation, only to find pain and death.
The sharp crack of glass smashing broke into my thoughts. Harvey kicked away the ropes and went to the window.
“They’re lighting it up. We have to get out.”
Harvey pushed and pulled at the ropes shackling me to the chair. The faint smell of smoke wafted in under the crack in the closed door. Windhaven Manor was alight.
The ropes loosened and I squeezed free. We flung open the door and waved away thick black smoke rising up the grand staircase, filling the gallery. An orange glow reflected in the tiles on the ground floor. Muffled screams fought with the crackle of fire consuming wood. The two goons Ponytail and Beanie dragged two bodies across the floor and towards the kitchen. Beth and Juliet. They kicked and screamed at their captors. They were still alive.
I moved towards the top of the stairs and Harvey grabbed my arm. “Wait until they leave.”
Ponytail and Beanie tramped back across the gallery floor and back towards the front door, shielding their faces from the growing heat. When they were gone we hustled down the staircase. We had to get to the others before the fire spread. We turned towards the kitchen and took a couple of hurried steps before coming to a dead halt. Ally blocked our path, the glow of the fire flickering across her face.
X

Preamble:

We are a family of three. I previously lived in Japan for about 10 years. My wife is Japanese from the Kansai region, and we have a 6 year old son born and raised abroad, but who speaks/reads/writes Japanese at a native or near-native level for his age. My wife and son traveled back to Osaka several times during Covid, but I did not join them due to the additional logistics requirements at the time, and the sense that it would not be particularly enjoyable. Prior to covid we would typically spend about 4-5 weeks a year in Japan, but this was our first long day-in-the-life trip together in the past four years.
It was a phenomenal trip, and I wanted share what we did. Our trip is probably a little bit unconventional compared to most of the reports here as we all speak Japanese and are very familiar with Japan having lived there for quite some time in the past. Our main goals for our trip were to provide our son with immersion opportunities, to meet family, and to visit with old friends. We lived for many years in both Osaka and Tokyo and I have relatives in Shizuoka. We also love craft beer, games, and quirky museums; I think our trip itinerary reflects all of this.

General Pre-trip Preparation:

Our son is a second-year kindergartener in Zurich, Switzerland, but he also speaks Japanese and attends a Japanese school part time. He's very outgoing and enjoys new adventures (probably because we have been dragging him around to San Diego or Osaka almost every year for most of his life). This year we thought it would be interesting if he could experience a real Japanese elementary school during our stay. To this end about 2 months before we left, my wife contacted the local elementary school near her parents house in Osaka and inquired about the possibility of doing a short 'study abroad' (体験留学) at some point during our stay. To our surprise she received a prompt reply from the school principal, who was very enthusiastic about the prospect, and happy to arrange all the details upon our arrival. Apparently he had previously worked at an international school and had a very positive outlook on this sort of interaction. Final details were to be determined on site in a short family interview in order to get a sense of our son's Japanese ability and disposition.
We typically spend our long-term stays with our relatives but this time we decided to break our trip up into several stages: Osaka at Home, Osaka at Large, Return to Tokyo, Shizuoka, Osaka at home. The remainder of the report is broken up accordingly.

Part 1: Osaka-at-Home I.

The first week we flew in to Osaka KIX from Zurich via Seoul, and took the Hello Kitty Express :-) directly into Umeda where we met up with family and went straight to a Yakiniku experience at Yakiniku Toraji on the B2 floor of the Lucua building at Umeda. At first we planned to make the journey home to drop off our luggage but after we realized that the airport express now drops you off at essentially the Lucua B1, we decided to just head straight to dinner. Needless to say, it was epic. We grabbed some bread and pastries for the following morning and headed home with mom and dad.
GENERAL ANECDOTES:
Masks; Even on first arrival it was clear that we made the right decision to come after the covid restrictions finally lifted. Everything was open, and people were out. Roughly 90+% of people were still wearing masks everywhere, but this percentage steadily declined over the duration of our stay to, I would say, 65%-70% by the time we left on May 20th. We chose not to wear them, and my MIL/FIL were also not wearing them. At no point during the trip did I feel there was any concern about this in either direction. Anyone traveling in the near future should feel completely free to go whichever way you prefer.
During the first week we sorted out our jet lag, and spent a lot of time roaming around conbinis and the supermarkets remembering all the little delicious nothings that Japan has to offer. We stayed with mom and dad in Ebie, Fukushima, right on Yodogawa. This is about 5 min bike ride from Nodahanshin station, and 10-15min ride to Fukushima station or Umeda. We made all these rides many times during our stay! We made some mellow probing adventures:
Prepaid SIMs. I still have to answer emails and typically work on-and-off during these trips. One of the reasons we are able to do it is because I work in IT. This means it's always important to get a good prepaid SIM. On my last visit, four years ago I was able to find a great deal on a prepaid SIM at Yodobashi in Umeda, so one of my first orders of business was to repeat that experience this time. However after discussing with the sales and purchasing a SIM with 50GB for 1mo @ Y8000, I found out that it did not permit tethering. This was stated as a 'possibility' in the fine print and when I asked at purchase time the sales person said they couldn't guarantee it but thought it should work. I gambled and lost. This was quite annoying given the main purpose of purchasing a high volume prepaid SIM was for tethering to my laptop. Anyway as a result I discovered the eSIM tech which was also supported by my iPhone 14. I ended up buying another eSIM plan using Ubigi and this worked great and supported tethering without issue throughout my trip. It also worked great for our short return stop in South Korea. I'll never go back to prepaid physical SIMs and I still cannot believe that Docomo is still blocking tethering in 2023. Completely ridiculous.
Exercise: I am an avid swimmer and cyclist. Since we typically stay for around 1 month I like to be able to continue my swim workouts while we are in Japan. Cycling isn't a problem since we end up biking and walking all over the country anyway. I always join the Konami Sports Club network for 1 month as a regular member the first day we arrive. They provide a bunch of different plans and most of the Type III and Type IV gyms in the network have a 25SCM lap pool. If you join the network you can use any of facilities anywhere in the country, which is great if you spend time in more than one city. The Type III and Type IV facilities all have really great bath house areas as well, with multiple sento-style baths and usually a big sauna. You need to make sure that you join and quit on the same day (or at least in the same week) so that your membership will be properly cancelled at the end of the first billing cycle. This might be tough if you don't speak Japanese well, but if you do the staff is super accommodating and will definitely help you make it happen. In addition to the exercise, one thing I really like about doing this is that it gives me another day-in-the-life experience; it's like living there again; doing things that locals do. The Kitahama facility in Osaka is particularly nice; It's a new one and it's my favorite.
Internet Cafes: I worked on and off during the trip and usually do work days at local internet cafes. The three I liked best during this trip were:

• Brooklyn Coffee Namba : Big spacious area with lots of sockets and reasonably fast free wifi if you don't have a SIM (or don't have one that supports tethering...). It's really dedicated to remote work so there is zero pressure to leave. You can spend the whole day working there with a couple cups of coffee and no one will bug you. The only downside is that it is a bit of trek from Namba station.
• Brooklyn Coffee Kitahama : Same chain as above. This one is smaller, but has a similar vibe. It's right on the river which makes for a cool view. It's closer to the station but I definitely prefer the Namba shop.
• Starbucks Umeda MeRise : This is a pretty sweet Starbucks that is much more 'devoted' to remote work than most. They have a 'startup' area on the second floor, loads of seats, loads of plugs and a solid wifi connection. It's a hop skip and a jump from Umeda which also makes it convenient. Starbucks Japan still offers the one-more-coffee receipts which is a great bonus here. You can get a second cup of cold brew or hot coffee for about Y180 in the same size as the first one you purchase.

Cycling: We keep a couple of momma-charis at my in-laws place, including one with a kid-seat on the back. We did plenty of riding and my son loves the unique-to-him experience of riding on the back of the bike. We considered getting him his own bike this year, but eventually decided against it due to the complex traffic. Osaka is pretty easy to get around in by bicycle in terms of terrain - there are very few hills in the city proper, however the traffic is a little bit gnarly. Midosuji street is a great example of this. It runs in a mostly straight line from Umeda/Osaka station, across Oebashi and Yodobashi past Osaka city hall, and down through Dotonbori to Namba. It's a cool little ride if you have the time and inclination and it is mostly flat. It runs only in one direction for most of this length however many Japanese cyclists seem to not be aware of this fact. I was surprised/amazed/terrified by how many people I encountered riding against the flow of traffic on this quite busy street. Plenty of mama-charis with kids on back as well. It's pretty chaotic and not for the faint of heart! That said I enjoy the rides and the people watching and the adventure that a little chaos can provide as long as you keep your eyes open.
--------------------------------------------------
LOCATIONS, FOOD AND ADVENTURES

• Osaka Kids Plaza : We made a solid day of visiting Osaka Kids Plaza. This place is great if you have 3-8 year olds and want to find something to do with them, especially on a rainy day. In past years we have also visited KidoKido Bornelund in Grand Front Umeda, but at 6 our son seemed to have outgrown it this time around. Osaka Kids Plaza was still plenty of fun.
• Yakitori Masaya: We looove all Japanese food and Yakitori is no exception. We usually visit the local Torikizoku but it was their day off so we tried this new place in Fukushima. It didn't disappoint.
• Honmachi Seimenjo Ten: I love cold bukkake udon and sanuki udon. This place in Lucua is pretty passable, easy access and great value for money. It's definitely not as good as Tokyo Mentsudan in Shinjuku, Tokyo - which is absolutely banging - but it was a good first taste.
• Round 1 Stadium Sennichimae : My son has started to enjoy gaming and I wanted to explore this with him so we dedicated our first father-son adventure day of the trip to a large game center - the likes of which simply do not exist in either Switzerland or the US. Needless to say it was a massive hit. They have plenty of Mario Kart, Densha de Go, and Taiko no Tatsujin (our favorites) as well as bowling, pool, gokarts and more. Of course there are also oodles of crane games to waste your money on as well. After the game center we walked for Ramen near Namba:
• Namba Ramen Ichiza this place is pretty much brand new from the look of it. It has a slew of different ramen shops and all they all looked delicious. We visited twice after the first success. There are many tourist oriented ramen shops in the shotengai in dontonburi and sennichimae, but IMO this was a much better experience. We found it because my son wasn't into the crowded dark vibe in the shops below. This place was well-lit and spacious, and the shops readily provided kid utensils and smaller tori-zara so that I could scoop more reasonable portions for him. It's also right next to Namba station.
• Edion Namba Kids Park : the Edion building with the Ramen Park on the 9F also has a huge toys, models, and kids park on 7F. We visited this before heading home. They have a big games section, a Bandai section, a very large Plarail and Tomika section, and a great Lego section. Super fun to browse; plenty of open stuff for the kids to play with too.
• Osaka Castle park: We roamed the park a bit then had lunch at the little Ramen park in the Castle Terrace area adjacent to Osakajokoen. The weather was nice and the back area of the ramen park has a great view of Osaka castle. After that we took the tourist road train that runs around the park and road it up to the last stop right in front of Osaka castle. There is always a lot of commentary about walking in this sub; if you don't want to walk all the way through the park for whatever reason, the little road train is a great option. You still have to climb maybe 4 floors worth of steps to get to the castle entrance, but the train gets you pretty close. In the end we decided not to go into the castle since the line was looking pretty long and we've been multiple times before. We ate some jihanki ice cream in the main plaza under the castle. After that we hiked back down to exit via the Otemon gate and made a quick stop at my wife's alma mater Osaka Otemae High School before hopping a bus headed towards Kitahama and eventually back home.

--------------------------------------------------
BEER
As I mentioned, we love craft beer, and we particularly love Hazy IPAs in all their various forms. We made it a point in this trip to explore this aspect of Japan as it seems to have really exploded in popularity since our last visit. We followed (hazy_mmy)[https://www.instagram.com/hazy_mmy/?hl=en] for some great ideas outside the brewpubs.

• Lucua Craft Beer Market: This place has been around for several years, and is still going pretty strong. It features a lot of interesting IPAs, Stouts, Sours, and standard Pilsners and Pale Ales. They usually have a Hazy or two on tap as well. There is an unrelated beer and wine shop on the same floor that has a great selection of IPA and Hazy IPA cans as well.
• Ape Brewing: One of our first craft beer explorations of the trip was Ape Brewing. These guys just got started and we got to meet their brew master and taste some awesome brews. Food is great and the ambiance was great too; there's bar seating and nice views of those shiny vats if you're into that sort of thing. They were also very child friendly (as were I think all the spots we hit this time) and had plenty of soda and juice and non-alcoholic drinks.
• Yellow Ape Craft : Ape Brewing is an offshoot of the Yellow Ape Craft brew pub which we had visited on previous trips. It's also located in Kitahama, nearer to the station, and has a more general, different array of craft beers as well as a different menu. We ended up turning our Kitahama visit into a mini pub crawl and stopped off at this spot on the way home as well. It didn't disappoint.

We wrapped up this mini pub crawl with a walk through the Kitahama/Yodoyabashi area in the evening. This is more of business district but it actually has some interesting novel historical sites. There are a number of cool Meiji Era buildings with large explanatory placards. These are predominantly in Japanese and maybe a bit obscure, and you also won't be able to enter most of them, but if you are into this sort of thing it's can be a fun bonus. I'm guessing google translate in photo mode can get you most of the way through the placards:

• https://osaka-club.or.jp/ (a business social club / salon)
• Ikoma Building
• Former Konishi Family Residence (I believe you can actually enter this one)
• Douza no ato this is an even older one dates to the Edo period. It was initially seat of the local copper trade, then converted to an elite Kindergarten - the first in Osaka - in 1880. It still operates as a kindergarten.

there are a bunch more, these just happen to be the ones that caught our eye as we passed by on our mini pub crawl.

Part 2. Osaka-at-Large

We spent roughly our first two weeks in Osaka, but in order to get a change of pace and give our family a break, we opted to spend the second week in an apartment-hotel near Umeda. This was a great decision and a lot of fun. We were able to host friends, had even better access to Umeda and could relax and enjoy the city from a fresh angle.
We spent 7 nights in the rooftop luxury suite at Minn Kita Umeda and it was epic. My wife booked this about 6 months in advance and it was worth every last yen. The room was spacious and quiet with two large comfy beds. The bathroom included a deep Japanese style bath. There is a large rooftop deck with a jacuzzi overlooking Lucua/Umeda/Osaka station. This view at night was phenomenal. At present there is also a ton of highrise construction going on behind Grand Front which my son got a kick out of (and me too). The apartment has a large kitchen and living room space as well, and we used it to host some visits from friends.
--------------------------------------------------
LOCATIONS, FOOD AND ADVENTURES
I ended up working most of this week so we only managed one major adventure.

• SpaWorld Osaka: Onsen from around the world. This was probably the one experience I would categorize as a strong do-not-recommend. My son and I were looking for another adventure day target and settled on an onsen adventure. I've been to Oedo Onsen Monogatari a couple of times and there is also a new one in Osaka city: Solaniwa Onsen but for some reason we picked Spa World. It is located about 5min walk from Dobutsuen-Mae station. This area is basically skid row; my wife and MIL warned me, but I didn't really believe them since I've never seen any truly 'run down' area of Japan. This area was hilariously decrepit and I got a lot of I-told-you-so's after we got back. Spa World itself is somewhat OK. The facility is pretty clean and the baths are relatively well kept. However the water-park area on the top floor was honestly pretty gross. We floated around the lazy river quite a few times; but it was more like a gross, overly warm moat. There was a kiddy slide area but it was not particularly great and had a bunch of really hard surfaces in the play areas that were not kind. There were a couple of pretty cool looking tandem water slides but they had a scale and a weight-differential requirement of 'no more than 20kg'. Unfortunately for us I'm 6'3", 92kg and my son is a gangly 6 year old weighing in at 21kg. They took one look at us and didn't even bother with the scale. The kicker here however was the bathroom. Right before we left to go down to the sento area, I used the mens room and it was absolutely filthy. The mens urinals had a high wooden shelf which is probably not visible to 95% of Japanese visitors but as I mentioned, I'm pretty tall. I could see this thing and it was not only absolutely filthy but crawling with little black bugs. I just about retched and headed out immediately afterwards. The Spas of the World on the floor below was in much better shape. It was clean and good fun; we visited Greece and Spain and Italy :-) and finally headed home. My son had a great time and I would have classified it as 'OK' if not for the bathroom experience which was just unbelievable. In retrospect I honestly should have reported it. As it stands I'd give it a hard NOT recommended; Oedo Onsen or Solaniwa should be much better bets.
• Hep5 Ferris Wheel: We've ridden this a few times in the day but never before at night. It was pretty cool and gives you a nice long view of the city from all angles. The contrast between the Osaka city night and Zurich is pretty extreme! My only minor complaint was that they had some kind of Care Bear theme going on an there was a large temporary Care Bear decal on the side of the car which obstructed part of the view.
• Shuns Kushiage, Kushikatsu: We also love kushiage/kshikatsu and we ate a ton on this trip. One of our favorite haunts is Shuns on 10F Lucua.
• Curry House CoCo Ichibanya: I also love Japanese style curry and CoCo Ichibanya. This is standard chain that can be found throughout Japan. They serve a bunch of Japanese style curry rice and you can customize them with things like tonkatsu, hirekatsu, sausage, cheese, etc. You can also customize the spice level and it goes up to seriously spicy which is sometimes tough to find in Japan!
• Pause Coffee: This little hole in the wall coffee shop is located just next to the Minn apartment hotel we were staying at. It was always packed with locals and made great coffee and great sweets.
• Craft Burger Co. : Solid burgers and some good craft beers on tap. They also had sliders that were perfectly sized for a 6 year old. We visited the Dojima shop. This wasn't the best burger we had, but it was definitely tasty and worth a visit if you like burgers and are in the area.
• Saien Yakiniku : This is a little hole in the wall yakiniku place that we've been visiting for over 20 years. It's good and we always visit at least once, but the biggest reason for this that we know the owner and it's a family tradition dating back to my wife's childhood. Their 'aji kurabe' (taste comparison plate) is pretty good though and comes with a selection of beef from every major region of Japan.

BEER

• Yellow Ape Craft: TheBottleShop & Kitchen: This was the final installation in the Yellow Ape franchise, also located in the Kitahama area. This one was really cool in that they have a self-serve tap setup using IC cards. The staff hands you an IC card when they seat you, and you can order food as normal. But the taps are all installed in a public facing wall on the opposite end of the pub and you pour your own beer by inserting your IC card into the reader above the tap. It then records your pour by the ml and charges you sort of like a gas station. I'd never seen this before and visited it with a friend, and later again with the family. It was pretty fun. They also have a few games and a rubiks cube if you're into that. They also have plenty of bottles for takeaway and had 3-4 Hazy IPAs on tap when we visited.
• Drunk Bears Osaka: This place has deep dish pizza and we were hoping it could compare with DevilCraft. The pizza was OK but the beer lineup ended up being pretty subpar.

Part 3. Return to Tokyo

For our third week we returned to Tokyo to visit old haunts and old friends, and take in the even bigger city. We headed up early on the Nozomi shinkansen after checking out of the Minn. We bought bento in Shin Osaka station and our son picked out a shinkansen shaped Ekiben box to bring back for school lunches.
We previously lived for about 7 years in Jiyugaoka, and planned to spend time there meeting friends, but we decided to stay in an area we were less familiar with in order to get a fresh perspective on the city. We spent 6 nights at the Blossom Hotel Hibiya which is about 5 min walk from Shimbashi station. It's a highrise with the hotel on the top. We had a room facing Tokyo Tower with a great view. The rooms themselves were clean and comfy with the external wall composed of a single huge bay window. The city scape was amazing night and day.
I ended up having to put out fires at work again during this week even though I had tried to take it off, and this put a little bit of a damper on some exploration plans, but we still managed to see all our friends and make a go of the time. Also since we already spent almost 10 years in Tokyo altogether, we didn't feel nearly as pressured to check out multiple tourist sites and focused on eating, drinking, and meeting with friends.
--------------------------------------------------
LOCATIONS, FOOD AND ADVENTURES

• Poop Museum Tokyo: This place was absolutely bonkers. My wife found it randomly and jokingly suggested that we should check it out. We wandered around Odaiba and visited. There was a huge line. My wife opted to go shopping but my son and I decided we couldn't pass up this opportunity. It was bizarre, hilarious and entertaining and well worth the entry fee. The highlights including a fuzzy mechatronic Poop-animal petting zoo, an Unko speech recognition game where screaming 'unko' (poo) resulted in a poo tower visualization with size corresponding to the volume of your scream - this was then aligned with a landmark of corresponding size for reference, e.g., the Eiffel Tower. There were also various games and photo ops with cute poo and you receive a poo on a stick as a souvenir. Just a bizarre unique experience.
• Tokyo Tower: We climbed Tokyo tower with friends on a beautiful starry night. It was great. I had hoped to climb the stairs but we were too late. There was a special lighting arrangement related to Golden Week which we managed to catch. The view is great but the tower is now almost entirely surrounded by gigantic Mori office skyscrapers that are as tall or taller than the lower viewing platform!
• Tokyo Sky Tree: We also climbed the Sky Tree on another day. This was fun too. It's way higher, but it's almost so high that the features of the city are a bit obscured. I'm glad we did it and checked it off, but I kind of preferred Tokyo Tower in the end.
• GiGO Akihabara 1: With my son newly addicted to Game Centers, we couldn't pass up a chance to visit Akihabara :-)! We made a trip to the GiGO centers. This was a lot of fun. There are five installations, but we focused on 1 and 3. One was definitely the best. We found our favorite games: Mario Kart and Taikou Tatsujin, and also found a top floor packed with 80s and 90s hits, many with co-op options. We spent a few hours here trying as much as we could. Taikou Tatsujin was particularly fun as there were a couple of absolute masters just ripping apart the drums, yet still kind enough to take a break after 10min or so and let us get in a round of easy-level Tonari no Totoro. One thing I noticed was that there were a lot of tourists that seemed to want to try some of the games but had a lot of difficulty with the Japanese only interfaces and writing.
• Jiyuugaoka: As I mentioned, we lived in Jiyuugaoka for about 7 years so we made sure to return and spend a day wandering around and wallowing in nostalgia. I don't have anything in particular to say about it; it's just a nice area to wander and hang out. Plenty of good food and shopping, more relaxed than many areas of Tokyo.
• Akamon): I had planned to go back and visit my old lab here, but unfortunately time did not permit. The Todai Hongo campus is definitely worth a visit though. There are some good eats and it's an easy walk through the campus to Ueno.
• Karaoke-kan: We made one karaoke stop for old time's sake. This particular place in shimbashi is not notable; just part of a chain, but I think Japanese style karaoke is worth trying once, especially if you are only familiar with the western approach.
• Shu Shimbashi: We had a nice group dinner at Shu in Shimbashi. Pretty standard izakaya style fare but reasonably priced and tasty enough.
• Henry's Burger Jiyuugaoka: Great burgers and a nice rooftop area for eating. It's a 5 min walk from Jiyuugaoka station. It also has some nice craft beer that you can add to a set menu.
• Nantahama Jiyuugaoka: This is an amazing little Okinawa style izakaya that has been run by the same family in the same spot for the last 50 years. When we lived here we visited it regularly. Food and ambience is great and the family that runs it is very friendly.
• Mujaki Ramen Jiyuugaoka: Amazing ramen. Amazing.
• Clann Irish Pub Jiyuugaoka: Great little Irish pub with a friendly owner. My wife and met her 17 years ago so we always make sure to stop by for a pint of Guinness and a chat with the regulars.
• Boulangerie Asanoya Jiyuugaoka: Great bread and pastries.
• Devilcraft Tokyo - Jiyuugaoka: Epic deep dish pizza and solid selection of craft beer on tap. There are other locations in Kanda, Hamamatsuchou, and Gotanda.
• Sushi Gyoshin: Great kaiten sushi restaurant in Jiyuugaoka just a few steps from the station. This was another of our longterm haunts and we were happy to see that it hasn't changed. Our son ordered his first sushi by himself and we enjoyed another great meal.
• Quan an Tam: Great little Vietnamese place in Jiyuugaoka.
• Katoriya Jiyuugaoka: Great Yakitori place.

BEER
Tokyo is overflowing with great craft beer these days!

• ibrew Shimbashi: This little chain was great. The first one we visited was the Shimbashi installation. This is located in the Shimbashi Ekimae Building-1, just adjacent to Shimbashi station. The building screams Showa inside and out and the beer pub is just a little hole in the wall. They were just wrapping up an all-Hazy-IPA campaign and had a slew of great stuff on tap. The food was also great, and they had a decent non-alcoholic selection as well.
• Isekadoya Shimbashi: This craft beer bar is located inside Shimbashi station, just outside the wicket gates. It has a more modern vibe but plenty of good food and brew. The kushiyaki lineup was great.
• ibrew Akihabara: ibrew has another installation in Akihabara and we had a dinner here as well. They had great food and a different lineup of brews on tap. One thing to watch out for was that they only accepted cash, and the nearest ATM is about 5 min walk back towards the station. Fun spot with friendly staff.
• Antenna America Tokyo: We stopped by this place for lunch on the way to Shizuoka. Nice selection of cans, and a few good ones on tap. It's an open space, and they have a free-to-lay Fussball table which my son and I played a few games on.

Part 4. Shizuoka

After our stay in Tokyo we started making our way back to Osaka for the last segment of our trip. On the way stopped off in Mishima for one night to visit my relatives. Here we stayed at the Toyoko-Inn Fujisan Mishima-eki. This is a no frills spot but it had nice clean, quiet rooms and a surprisingly good breakfast buffet. We wandered around Mishima in the afternoon then had a big Yakiniku family dinner with my relatives at Anrakutei Yakiniku. I tried Horumon for the first time and actually enjoyed it!
The next day we headed to Mochimune for one of our long planned trip highlights:

• The Villa Barrel and Lounge. This place was flat out amazing. It's a brewery/hotel run by West Coast Brewing. We stayed one night in the Nelson & Mosaic loft room. This place was so much fun. The restaurant has some great food. We shared several flights of tasty brews including a bunch of tasty Hazy IPAs and the rooms were equipped with a personalized keg with 10L of beer to 'drink at your leisure'. They recommend bringing a growler to take the leftovers with you, and unfortunately they don't sell them onsite. The reservation also included free entrace for the whole family to the adjacent onsen, which was also fantastic and offered some nice views of Mt. Fuji.

It rained heavily in the evening and all through the night, but this made for a fun trip to the nearby 7-Eleven, and a good excuse to just hang out and tap the keg while watching Doraemon reruns on the big screen TV in the room. In the morning the weather had cleared up so we took a long walk on the beach which is just a few minutes from the hotel. The walk from the hotel back to Mochimune station is also quite nice if the weather permits. Truly amazing experience. Also requires booking several months in advance.
OUT OF CHARACTERS - SEE COMMENT FOR FINAL TRIP SEGMENT

Hi Seattle! I know it's a gray-ass Monday this week and it seems like the chill has moved back into the air a bit, but we're just now starting to really hit "Seattle Summer" now that fake spring, 2nd winter, faux summer, and 3rd winter are now over. (I think...?) I figured I'd drop a few details today about some of the stuff going on with The Rolling Bones this summer! We had a big chunk of people coming in from someone mentioning us in a thread and it made me think, "I'm sure a lot of people are looking for stuff to do this summer" so, here I am!
If you yourself are interested in joining us some time, or maybe just someone you know, drop a comment down below and myself, or some of the other folks from our community will happily send you a link to the Discord. EDIT: Link now included! :) https://discord.gg/rollingbonespnw
​
What are the Rolling Bones? Who are we?
Basically, a mixture of gamers, geeks, nerds, cosplayers, and anyone else who happens to fall into the orbit of "geekdom" if you will. We play a ton of video games online together to keep us connected during the busy work weeks, and then relax quite often on the weekends with a beer (and there's also 'dry'/sober events as well!) some board games, maybe a little D&D or just to 'roll some bones' as we say (that means roll dice, usually in a board game, for those on the periphery of nerd culture btw ;) )
There's a little over 2,200 of us in there now, and we accept members from as far north as Everett, as far south as Olympia, and as far east as the mountains! (We even have some folks from Bremerton and Silverdale who may get a little local tabletop gaming club put together on that side of the water soon as well)
Each area has its own 'chapter' which puts on its own events, gatherings, get-togethers and what have you, so as long as you're in the south Puget Sound region, you're probably just a short (relative term, I know) drive from some of us in your area putting something together or getting an event going on.
The demographics are *very* mixed, age range is anywhere between 21 to late 50s, with the vast majority of us in our late 20s into late 30s.
It's a 50/50 split between men/women and plenty of room and space given for folks who don't identify on either end.
We don't talk politics - social issues - controversial topics etc. in there except for video games and even then, we keep the conversation to "which version of Mario Bros. was the best one?" type of stuff usually. (We all know Mario 3 is the best, though...)
It's VERY active, and as we have things kind of sectioned off for folks, it doesn't exactly feel like a "big" Discord server where you can get lost, there's enough connectivity and interaction between everyone in all the various channels we have so your comment doesn't end up becoming a drop in an endless stream of conversation.
​
​
​
For you PC Gamers out there, some of the more popular titles we have in rotation right now:
​

1. Planetside 2 (a moldy oldy that we've blown the dust off of and had a TON of fun over the past few weeks with 20-30 of us online at one time, sometimes more!)
2. Starship Troopers: Extermination
3. Civilization 6 / Stellaris / EU4 / HoI 4 (Paradox Titles and Civilization 6 are pretty steady/regular in rotation for us)
4. Project Zomboid (About to re-launch a totally fresh server for this game)
5. Minecraft (Of course!)

​
As well as plenty of World of WarCraft players, League of Legends, DayZ, 7 Days to Die, Valheim, etc. the list goes on!
​
​
UPCOMING EVENTS:
​
Seattle Area - May 27th, Capitol Hill
"Hang on the Hill" gatherings are always on Capitol Hill and usually happen either at Red Hook Brew Labs or over at Captain Black's (sometimes both!) and can either be a board gaming gathering, or just a plain social gathering for us to get together and knock back some brews while we listen to music and shoot the breeze about video games, board games, etc. These can vary in size of attendance from a little over a dozen people to sometimes in the neighborhood of 50ish or even more, occasionally.
​
Bothell Area - Board Game Night (2nd Tuesday of Every Month)
The "Eastsiders" of the Rolling Bones have a gathering done up at Zulu's every month on the 2nd Tuesday, where it's a bunch of us hanging out, having drinks, playing games and enjoying ourselves!
​
Tacoma Area - Board Game Night @ Lux! (Every 2nd & 4th Saturday of Every Month)
Beer, Pizza & Boardgames, what more could you want? If you're anywhere in the Tacoma area, check out Board Games at Lux to meetup with local gamers in your area!)
​
Olympia Area - May 27th Mini-Con & Tabletop Day @ Capitol Mall, June 3rd
Olympia area folks have *two* upcoming events to check out, the May 27th mini-con event and another at Capitol Mall on June 3rd! Make sure you check out the Olympia Gatherings forum when you join the Discord for details!
​
Seatac Area - June 15th board game night!
Folks in between Seattle and Tacoma, you have your own chapter now as well! Check out the June 15th game night hosted by our Seatac Chapter Captain and ask for details about what time and where!
TL;DR - Nerds get together all over the city to do nerd stuff. We mostly use Discord for coordinating things. Having trouble meeting folks? Need to find a social group? Looking for people to do stuff with, especially gaming-related events? Are you at least 21 or older? Then that's what we're here for :) Come play some board games / video games / nerd out with the rest of us!

As always, thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe that is NoP
Thank you to u/cruisingNW for proof reading!
Content Warning: There is mention of Dog-fighting. It is not described but the topic is brought up.
First Prev. Next
---
Memory Transcription Subject: Christopher A. Dewey, Human Merchant Sailor, Venlil-Human Exchange Participant
Date [Standardized Human Time]: August 22nd, 2136.
Soft, I think that best describes hugging Taisa. Soft and… cathartic, the kind of hug I’d needed from someone for a while now without realizing it.
We were sat on the lower bunk, I leaned against the wall, her back against my side. Her tears had finally dried up, and she seemed… happy. Relaxed. More so than she had at any point I’d known her, in person or over the pairing app. She’d always had some anxiousness, some tension about her, that seemed broken in this moment as she lay in my arms.
It had been a long time since I’d had a friend to do that with, to just vent. Sure I was friends with the guys on the crews of some of my ships but this was… different. As good a dude as Rodriguez had been, we'd never really exchanged much beyond a hand shake and a pat on the back, never really talked about life, usually it was just the job and whatever was going on.
I had to think all the way back to high-school to find someone I wasn’t either dating or related to that felt comfortable enough with me to bare their souls like that.
Andrew was a good guy, had been a good friend, I really should see if I could get into contact with him. Last I’d heard he was working as an engineer for the UN out west somewhere, Seattle maybe?
We’d spent a fair few nights sitting on the tailgate of my family's old truck, drinking beer we certainly weren’t old enough to buy, and talking, just shooting the shit. Until one night he looked me in the eyes and spilled his guts.
Told me how much he hated everything, hated our town, hated how few and limited the prospects were, how he felt like he’d be stuck in it and not be able to get anywhere else. Hated how he felt like he was going to just turn out like his parents, angry and stagnant. I hadn’t had any answers, there wasn’t anything I could even say to help, I just sat and listened. After a while he pounded his beer back and decided, on the spot, that he was going to college, no matter the loans he had to take to do it. He was gonna make something of himself.
He hopped down from the tailgate and pulled me into a hug, the kind that squeezes every joint in your body. Surprising from a guy that was usually so reserved. At the time I hadn’t felt like I’d had feelings of any real weight to share in kind, nothing I regretted or felt a drive towards that wasn’t already known, so I didn’t, I just listened.
It had always bothered me that I couldn’t return the sentiment, that trust, to him. He’d been adamant that it was alright and that he was happy to have someone to be able to talk to about it in the first place but it still never sat right with me.
I wouldn’t make that mistake this time.
I felt like I owed her something from my past, something I'd not told anyone else, not my crew, not my family and not any friends. Something to… even the scales, so to speak.
“Taisa, '' I started, one of her big eyes settling on my face, her ears swiveling to give me their full attention. “I’ve got a story for you, from when I was a little younger and a fair bit rowdier. I’ll be honest, it's not particularly pleasant.”
She nodded, flicking her ears at the same time. It occurred to me I hadn’t seen a Venlil nod yet, it was a little funny looking.
“I’ve been to a lot of places, seen and done a lot of things, some of them I'm not particularly proud of.” I sighed, thinking for a moment about what best to say, to try to lessen what was coming. “It was Aesop that said, ‘No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted’. So, I’ve always tried my best to put good into the world, to sow those acts of kindness, to help people when I can.”
A deep cough left me, clearing out my throat, the tension coming loose like a rope finally snapping after a long service.
“Except for one night, one night in Vũng Tàu. I didn’t put good into my actions; I put hurt into ‘em. A lot of it.” She kept looking at me as I paused, flicking her ears at me to continue.
"This was aboard my second ship, M/V Eastern Star. We were in port for three days, refueling, getting some maintenance in and loading up on cargo. The first day I got a call from my ma’." I could feel the tears welling at the corner of my eyes, remembering the call, the pain in her voice. "Roxy, the dog we'd had since I was a kid, had passed… Had to be put to sleep to save her the pains of her age, 24 years is a lot for a dog. It hurt, like a part of my soul was just gone, I hadn't even gotten to say goodbye."
She kept looking at me, those big amber eyes seemed deeper than any ocean I'd ever been on. I breathed deep to steady my shaking voice, and continued.
"The first and second nights in port I was despondent. Didn't do a thing, just couldn't. Then my captain all but kicked me off the ship the morning of the third day, said we'd be leaving the next morning and I should try and go out, cheer up a bit, clear my head. I spent most of the day wandering, stopping places and staring at life going on around me. It helped, a little, I suppose." Her weight against my shoulder became a little more, one arm wrapping around mine as she kept listening.
"Then, that evening, I stopped at a small corner stand, to try and put something in me, I hadn't eaten all day. I won't tell you what it was, I don't think you'd much appreciate it. A local guy walked up to me, speaking Vietnamese, we'd been in a few ports and I'd picked up a few words and phrases, asking after bathrooms, orders for food I liked, getting directions, that kind of stuff, mostly. Translators weren't really all that common yet but we had apps on our phones for more in depth conversations. But I didn't need the app to catch the two words that set me off. 'Dog' and 'fight'.” I grimaced, remembering the excited look in the man's eyes as he thought me interested.
“The practice is illegal, not that that's ever really stopped people from doing terrible things, on any normal night I'd likely have just reported it and been on my way. This wasn't one of my normal nights."
It took a moment but I saw recognition when the translator parsed the meaning to her and her tail went still with what I'd figured was horror, unsure if it was about the dog fighting or the implication of my words I pressed on.
"He wanted me to follow him down a few alleys, get to wherever they were doing it. I knew you shouldn't go down those alleys, desperate people can do desperate things, especially in dark places. I didn't very much care at that point. I finished my meal, stood and followed him. I was a fair bit bigger than him, a foot maybe more in height and somewhere in the ballpark of an extra hundred pounds of mass. All of that sadness, that anguish in me boiled away and left only one thing, cold seething fury."
I took in a sharp breath, closing my right hand, tightly, the knuckles popping a little, before letting go of the tension.
"He said it again, something about the breeds they used, I think. I just… I couldn't take it. I grabbed him, slammed him into the wall. He didn't expect it. Didn't see it coming in the slightest. I beat him, bad. All of that emotion came pouring out of me in a moment, 5 or 6 heavy hits before I stopped myself and dropped him. Horror at what I'd done, anger that I'd let myself do it flashed in my mind. He cowered back, terror in his eyes, begging me not to hit him anymore, that he'd stop, 'no more, no more.' Promised through a mouthful of blood, teeth and broken English that he'd stop, stop the fighting ring. Just please, don't hurt him anymore."
The tears came out, it'd been 10 years, I hadn't told a soul about that night or how I'd felt. What I'd done. Out of the corner of my blurred eye I could see her, eyes filled with concern as she watched me. It was her turn to think of me as a monster now.
Instead a small paw reached up and tried, a little clumsily, to wipe the tears away. So I continued.
"I still wonder what happened afterwards, sometimes; if he really did stop. I hope he got his life together, did something better with it. We were gone the next morning and I've never gone back to Vũng Tàu, let alone Vietnam."
It was her turn this time, to see me at my lowest point, see the soul inside. To my surprise she didn't back down, didn't flinch away and didn't let go.
"What do you think you'd say to him?" She asked, quietly, curiosity in her voice. "If you saw him again."
I thought for a moment, processing the emotions for the first time in a long time.
"I'd apologize, then ask him if he kept to his promise, see if he did really stop, and make something of himself. Despicable actions or no he didn't deserve what he got - what I did to him. It's the legal systems job to determine and mete out justice, not some random asshole offended by someone's choices.” I closed my eyes, and leaned my head against the strut of the top bunk, “Sometimes I worry about that night, agonizing over if it says more about me than the rest of my life does."
She flicked her ears at that before unwrapping her arm from mine. Hesitating a moment before hugging me about the neck instead, her tail tapping me on the back.
"You're a good person, Chris. Angry actions and rash decisions included. They don't define you, if they did then I don't think you'd be here. Don't think you'd care. Don’t think you'd have reached out to the stars with the rest of your kind. Don't think you'd have come back." She whispered, voice cracking a little on the last word, her wool pushing into my neck like a soft scarf.
“Thank you, Taisa, I… I haven’t told anyone about that night. I think I’ve needed to talk about it -- get it off my chest for a long time now.” I put my hands across her back, pulling her in a little closer. “Thank you for listening.”
We were quiet for a while before she asked, with that inquisitive tone of hers apparent in her voice, her tail curling slightly with curiosity. "What's a dog?"
The innocent question, as ridiculous as it was for me to hear, set me cackling, which in turn startled her a fair bit, setting her jumping back with her wool all puffed out again. I'm not sure why I found it so funny. It was a question I hadn't even considered she might ask, as if I'd assumed everyone had dogs for some reason, different planets or not.
I sniffed away one more tear, then answered, "Dogs are... Well, we call them ‘man's best friend’. Though I don't think the Venlil’d quite think the same thing looking at them. They've been pets and companions to humans for thousands of years."
Her ears splayed out to the sides a little as she smoothed down her fur, her tail swaying lightly behind her, a look in her eyes that I could almost swear seemed like a tiny hint of jealousy. A more reserved curiosity and a hint of worry made their way into her voice as she sighed. "Are they predators? Did Humans make predators into pets?"
"Yeah, yeah I suppose we did." I chuckled, opening my pad. "We like making friends anywhere we can find them. I've got some pictures of the family dogs, if you think you can stomach looking at them of course. Wouldn't want you fainting on me again." I teased. I felt… lighter, I hadn't realized how much getting that story out of me would help; it'd been bottled up for a long time.
"I won't faint again! You surprised me last time!!!" She squeaked, mock annoyance in the tone as her tail lashed at me playfully. "How about we start with a smaller one first."
"I’m partial to the bigger guys but I think there's a few small ones we could start with!" I replied, a smile on my face, thinking about the lazy hounds laid out on the front porch in the sun at home.
And so I showed her dogs, started small of course, yorkies and other fluffier lap dogs, then worked my way up. She took it in stride, for the most part; she wasn’t a big fan of the border collie, even without the context. She was… apprehensive at first, still a little hung up on the eyes and teeth. Then she saw the videos: dogs happy to see their owners, doing dumb things to amuse themselves or the people around them, laying in the sun, protecting animals smaller and more vulnerable than them and, of course, the rescue dogs. Something special seemed to come from them. Watching a dog give it’s all to dig someone out of a snow drift or drag someone out of a lake always got me, I guess it did the same for her.
“They’re great! They can go anywhere, do anything; happy as can be when they’re with family. Vandal, my pa’s old hound, loved taking rides in the truck pa’ and I built for around the property. Second he heard someone headed out the door he’d be right there next to ‘em, tail goin’ a mile a minute.” I couldn't stop smiling as I remembered the old dog perched on the door, head in the air; the smell of pine, Appalachian dust and fresh blooms on the wind as we drove up mountain trails.
“Wait… you and your father built a truck? Couldn’t you just buy one?” She asked, her tail coiling in curiosity at the thought.
“Well, the road cars on Earth are all autonomous at this point. The guidance software and what-not does well enough, sure, but it’s just so… Safe. Sometimes ya wanna go where the AI doesn’t, and they’ll fight you on any decision or just lock up and not do anything past a certain point. So a lot of farmers and off-road enthusiasts build their own! Usually you’d buy a kit from a manufacturer and then use some parts from the older models; batteries, motors, hydrogen cells, steering systems, that sort of stuff! There’s whole websites on the internet dedicated to debating what the best setup is and giving out tips to people just getting into it!” I responded, swiping to a picture I had of my father, brother and I covered in mud and dust standing in front of the truck.
Taisa’s eyes were wide as she examined the picture, pouring over every detail, her tail locked still before slowly turning to a steady, determined sway. A short, hanging moment of stillness filled the room before I was buried beneath an avalanche of questions and demands as to how, what and why we did what we did with the truck that lasted most the rest of the night.
It was nice to have someone to talk to like this again! It’d been too long.
---
​
First Prev. Next

Mud stared out from his seat on the porch. The cloudless blue sky draping over the broiling desert rocks served reminder that even in the midst of hostility, beauty was there for those who looked.
Mud sighed as his eye caught the cloud of dust rising in the distance. It didn't sit right to think of the arriving visitor as a friend, more of a known ally in the prison of fate. He stood up and moseyed off the porch in a slow and even fashion, his pace, second nature at this point, brought his dirt covered boots around the corner of the shed at the same time Carver was stepping out of the old white pickup.
"Still runnin', huh?" Mud said and extended his hand to Carver.
"Oh, yeah! She's a real demanding bitch sometimes but, she's just looking for a little love and attention" Carver grabbed Mud's hand and pulled him in for hug.
"Shit. You must be looking for a favor with all this affection." Mud said as he slapped Carver's shoulder hard enough to cause Carver a grimace.
"Damn, Mud. Don't be a dick. Look. I don't even need anything. Just coming by to see how things are since Missy took off." Carver stepped back and examined Mud's face. "I know that shit is tough and there ain't nothing out here but space and time. Want to make sure you're swimming through it alright."
Mud waited for a moment before answering "Yeah. Doing alright. How's yours?" he asked.
"Oh, you know. Martha's the same as the truck; real demanding but just needs some TLC every now and then. Listen, why don't you come by for dinner tonight? It'll be good. Eileen, will be there and she's been asking about you." Carver said.
Mud weighed the options; another quiet night watching the sunset hues give way to the stars or a chance to get drunk and have a few laughs. "Yeah, OK. I'll be there." Mud replied.
Carver smiled, nodded, and hopped back into his truck. Mud waved him off and turned back inside. An uneasy feeling crept into the back of his mind. He couldn't recall the last time, or if ever Carver had come by just to check on him. Mud went to his gun rack, took his favorite rifle and put it under the seat of his truck along with some ammunition. He put a revolver under the lip of the truck bed, and his knife around his calf.
Carver was Mud's closest neighbor at about 15 minutes away, had been since the Murray's and Stetson's passed away three and four years ago respectively. He shook the thought and turned onto the long gravel driveway of Carver's home. He arrived to see Carver, Martha, and Eileen sitting on the porch already drinking.
"Well, if you ain't sight for sore eyes!" Martha said as she stood up to greet Mud.
"Good to see you too, Martha." Mud replied. "Eileen, hope you're well." he nodded toward her.
She smiled "Glad you came."
"And this ugly bastard." Mud said looking at Carver.
Carver smiled, reached in the cooler beside him and tossed Mud a beer. "Shut up and grab a seat." he said.
The four spoke and laughed on the porch for a bit until Martha got up to check on the food. Carver reached deep into the cooler and pulled out a flask.
"I want you guys to try this. My own special brew." Carver said as he poured a bit into two glasses.
"What's in it?" Eileen asked.
"See if you can guess." Carver joked.
Mud and Eileen tapped their glasses and took the shot. Very quickly, things started to get blurry. Mud tried to speak but slurred without comprehension. The last thing he made out was "Sorry, Mud."
He woke up some time later sitting, tied to a chair in Carver's house. He was facing Eileen who looked as groggy as he felt. Mud felt the rope around his wrist was loosely tied behind him. He easily undid the binding. He walked over to Eileen and freed her as well.
"What. What happened?" Eileen asked.
"Fucking Carver and Martha happened. I'm going to knock that son of a bitch out when I see him. I suggest you do the same to Martha." Mud said.
Eileen slowly stood up. "What's that?" she pointed to a note stuck to the wall by way of Mud's knife.
Mud picked up the note and read:
---
Eileen, Mud. Both Martha and I extend our sincerest apologies. However, circumstances dictate that we high tail it out of here as you know who is looking for us. Plus, as luck would have it, we got an opportunity to make some serious cash in a place that I'm not going to name. Mud, my truck was never going to make it and I know you wasn't going to give me yours. Plus, we're going to need traveling funds and I seen where you stashed yours last time I was over. That was real sloppy of you, tighten it up.
Eileen, sorry. You were more of bait here though, Martha did take all the jewelry she could find in your house and she knows how much that necklace meant to you but, times is tough.
Anyway, Martha did cook and there's food in the oven. No hard feelings I hope. Also, could you all watch over the house while we're away? We will be back at some point and pay you both back in full with interest.
P.S. we also took all your weapons and slashed the tires on both trucks in case you felt like trying to catch up. I honestly don't know how long that drink will knock you out for and can't risk it.
With Love, M & C
----
Mud looked at Eileen. "Burn the place down?" he asked.
Eileen smiled. "Oh yeah. But, let's make it dinner and a show."
Eileen put the food on plates and moved two chairs a safe distance away from the house, Mud walked around to each corner and lit various items to start the fire. He joined Eileen out in the driveway and the two sat in silence, eating in front of the blaze.
"Dammit!" Eileen broke the silence. "There was still beer in that cooler."
Mud chuckled. "Yeah. You know, I'd stashed my favorite rifle in the truck."
"You could use mine... If they didn't find it." Eileen offered.
Mud smiled. "You want to bring it over tonight, show me the ins and outs? In return, I'll let you handle mine."
"Thought you'd never ask. Just hope you've got more than blanks." Eileen smiled back. "Sure is beautiful, ain't it?" she asked looking toward the fire.
"Sure is" Mud replied.