Let’s go ahead and compare Santa Clause or Father Christmas to the Abrahamic God, whatever you’d like to call him.
Santa: a kind man who loves everyone and hopes all the children will be good so he can give them presents. If they’re on the naughty list, he gives them a lump of coal to remind them to be good for the next year.
God: a spiteful man that demands we worship him or else we suffer an eternity of damnation in the fiery (or cold), depending who you ask, pits of hell.
Santa: loves children, and would, and does do everything in his power to make Christmas fun.
God: hates children, and let’s them get cancer and die before their life truly begins.
Santa: a faithful man to his wife and servants, everyone speaks highly of him. He practices what he preaches. Also, he has never killed anyone.
God: tested his most faithful servants by taking everything away from them to prove a point to his adversary, and knew the outcome regardless. God also has no problem maiming and murder people, which is among the great commandments.
Santa: loves everyone, regardless of sexual orientation, race, or the mistakes they make.
God: created gay people, but hates them anyways, along with everyone else that doesn’t believe in his message.
Santa: there is verifiable proof of his existence… why did I get presents under my tree that were addressed by Santa?
God: has no verifiable proof. If you pray to him something good may happen, or you may just get cancer and die regardless.
Santa: takes 24 hours out of his day to travel at the speed of light and deliver presents to children that he deemed deserved it.
God: doesn’t travel at the speed of light for 24 hours, he just watches us from the comfort of his own home, and judges us regardless.
Santa: is a nice old man with a belly and a beard. Kind of smells like whisky when you meet him in person.
God: has a terrifying presence to mortals, incomprehensible to the mind, and often is vague and creepy.
Santa is fucking awesome when you think about it.

I have a 2018 Nissan Versa sedan. My brake lights were working fine. I got pulled over by a Louisiana State Trooper yesterday and he told me, "You've got zero brake lights." Luckily, I didn't get a ticket or in an accident!
I checked all of the fuses in the power center (fuse box) in the side of the driver's side dashboard and under the hood in the engine compartment. I use the ATM-LP Low Profile Mini Fuses. They have the little pin hole on both sides, where I put my pointy multimeter leads in to check for continuity. All fuses are good!
I had to pull out my whole taillight fixture, and then remove 4 screws to get to the bulbs to check them - which seemed like a pain in the butt. The third brake light seemed so much easier to check just inside and up-under the back dash. Just a quick little twist and I was able to tell that the bulb is still good. I thought maybe it might be something like old Christmas tree lights - if one goes out, none of them work... So I had to do the pain in the butt taillight removal. The driver's side brake light bulb is good also.
That must mean that the brake light switch is bad. Am I right? What else could it be??? I want to test the switch, but it seems to be more of a pain in the butt to get to than the side brake light bulbs. I'm sure I can test it in the trunk...
Here's why, and maybe how I can test it...
Although it's not advised to tow with a versa, I do have a five-speed manual transmission... I found a forum with people who have verses with manual transmissions that said they have no problem towing small loads. It all started with just a little cargo carrier for my pressure washer - where I didn't need blinkers and brake lights. I upgraded to a small utility trailer where I needed brake lights and blinkers. I tied in to my tail lights with the four wire flat harness for the trailer. Please don't go thinking that I shorted something out or anything like that!!! LOL I tied in the four wire flat back in 2020 and my brakes have been working for the past 3 years. My brakes just went out recently. Being that I have tapped wires in the trunk, I have access to the different wires. Please help me with the testing...
The 2018 Nissan versa has a negative circuit system, am I right? All electronics have power going to them all the time, and all switches switched the ground wire, is that right? When I open my car door, the little jam switch connects to ground wires to make the light come on, am I right?
Can I put my multimeter on the continuity setting, and put one of the leads to the chassis, and then put the other lead to one of the wires in my tail light (the wire for the break light). If I do this, I should not have continuity. And when I press the brake pedal down, I should all of a sudden hear the beep for continuity, am I right?
Or is it backwards? Is there continuity between the chassis and the brake light wire without the brake pedal being pressed, and then when I press the brake pedal does it lose continuity?
I'm an electrician by trade - a high voltage electrician. I have no idea about this low voltage DC situation here... I'm lying! I'm a little familiar with it - but not much! If I can check my brake pedal brake light switch, with my multimeter on a continuity setting, in the trunk with the exposed wires connected to my trailer's 4-flat harness... Which wire is for the brake lights? I believe the blue wire is for the tail lights. So it would either be green, yellow or red (or is there another one in there that I'm not aware of? LOL). For some reason, I'm thinking the brake light is the yellow wire...
I see two twisted wires coming out of the brake pedal brake light switch up under the dashboard at the top of the brake pedal... The two twisted wires are like an aqua and green... I really can't get to them and don't know where they go to to test them for voltage. Please don't make me crawl up under the dashboard and try to fight that brake pedal, in that very small area!!! There's got to be a way to check the brake pedal brake lights switch in the trunk by the tail light where my taps are made - either with the DC voltage setting, or with the continuity setting on my multimeter.
A Nissan tech should know which color wire goes through the brake lights, am I right? Is it the yellow one? Or could it be the green one? Red? Lol Do all manufacturers of automobiles, such as Ford, Dodge, Chevy, Toyota, etc etc etc use the same color wires for tail lights, flashes / blinkers, brakes, etc etc etc? Or is it different from manufacturer to manufacturer? Are all brake light wires yellow? Are they all green? Or do they all differ depending on the manufacturer?
In summary, I need to know how to test the brake pedal brake light switch in the trunk at the taps with either DC voltage or continuity and which color wire should I use when I test? Thanks a million in advance!!!

(Trigger warnings! Graphic violence, gore, and politics)
​
​
​
When my eyes were made of the fog of youth and
Days and nights the same, sprinting pell mell down the
Growing months as my mother told me again‘
Ice and cold are best for preservation, so chill baby,
And watch out for the hot ones. They’re always crazy.’
Give her a bright tune and run off ignorant as before
To play another game of Fireworks or Gunfire in June.
​
She wore as paint the gore while
Her playmates became meat
Cooked rare American style, our popular treat.
Actions are pumping too much
And we can’t pretend to only say that
Our hearts are with them, though still blooded.
​
I feel like the first time I woke up it was a hot summer.
Maples whispered to me secrets from embers, telling me
That we’d rather combust before apologizing and
Also a tree can say goodbye for ten years but most of
Humanity dies thinking we’ll survive. They’ve been heated,
They’ve been steaming up for too long and our glaciers
Are gone - along with our restraint and at this rate the kids
Will dance from the staccato of ARs for Christmas.
​
Couldn’t believe the riots, we reenacted
1812 with bodies stacked together smoking,
Desperate to punish someone for all the burns
Blistered across our lives
Such blazing words are incendiary for a reason
Because our souls are all too flammable.
​
Candles gather across the nation. White to white
Other colors matter not, for banishing spells
Pure white is the best and most innocent. Render
All the children into wax so they may remain
Good until they die. But only our hands can light them
When they’ve been alive just long enough to understand pain.
Otherwise it is not a fitting sacrifice to our Most High Fear.
​
Ice come back and cool this chaos before,
Like the forest, we must regrow from ashes
Or, more likely, slag the ground too hard
For any kinder to turn into kindling.
​
https://www.reddit.com/poetry_critics/comments/13xup82/comment/jmjhzed/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
https://www.reddit.com/poetry_critics/comments/13xsenc/comment/jmjj0ji/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

This subreddit allowed me to plan our wedding. I am so grateful and found these breakdowns especially useful, and now a cathartic experience for me and hopefully a way to give back!
Photos
First step that helped us the most was deciding as a team early on what we wanted our wedding to bring to us and our future.
We were inspired early on by This Post and the comments.
We have both been through a lot of life and have a lot of gratitude for the people that have gotten us to this point and wanted to make space to celebrate with all of them in a big way. This inspired the rest of our wedding planning, committing us to a big guest list, requiring a big venue. We invited 304 people (154 households), 179 RSVP’d yes, and had ~10 no-show. Our family and friends live all over the country and some abroad, so we decided to pick a location close to us, but that had multiple houses on site to host our family/bridal party for the weekend (thurs-sunday; saturday wedding) so that we could have more time with those people closest to us.
Total: $69,407 (MCOL area)
Venue: $28,250 “Weekend Package”

• Indoor and outdoor space for ceremony/reception
• Lodging for ~60 people w/Lake access
• Rehearsal dinner space (same as wedding reception)
• Weekend coordinators
• Tables/chairs/arbor
• Additional costs - $1500: rehearsal dinner speakers/mic, bars, extra chairs/tables, late checkout, event insurance

Additional Lodging: $3965

• 2 additional houses near venue (lodging for 15 people)
• Because we were about 30min from the nearest city, we decided it was important to us to be able to have close family nearby, and rented out these houses as a gift for close family and friends. We debated a few different ways to have people rent the rooms back from us, but in the end felt like covering lodging cost was the better option.

Paper: $845

• Postcard STD ($60), Invites w/vellum paper + details/rsvp insert + personalized sticker ($298), Thank you cards ($25), Seating Chart ($20 - GotPrint, 24”x30” foam board, used coupon), Table Numbers ($35 - printed on shutterfly sale 5x7), Programs w/menu ($200), Postage ($207 - estimating on thank you cards, saved money with postcard stamps).
• I designed everything on Canva (free), and printed almost everything above through canva as well with a few exceptions. They were excellent. I had fun making my own wedding “suite” that suited our personalities and could be used from the invites to the table numbers.
• Program was a booklet that was made using x2 8x11 sheets printed as “letterhead” folded to have a welcome page, ceremony structure, wedding party, community vow, wedding day timeline, our love story timeline, the menu, and a thank you back page with a map I designed using SnazzyMaps with pins from every state/country people traveled from
• We did online RSVP through WithJoy and it was great. We also used GoogleForms early in the planning process to collect addresses that autopopulated into an excel spreadsheet.

Decor: $992

• Linens** ($360 - bought, (40 round, 10 rectangle) split cost as sharing with a friend. The cost to rent and have the linens transported to the venue would’ve been $2000. This was one of the toughest parts of the DIY wedding - happy to post more info if other people are also trying to do this.)
• Sign holders ($80 - 5x7 off amazon for 48 total), bud vases ($22 - most vases were borrowed from friends/family), Guest “book” ($180- we bought 4 nice photo frames with mattes and took the mattes out and had people sign them - came out beautifully), Bathroom baskets ($189), Glowsticks/Foam party sticks ($63), Sparklers ($97 - last minute add and I’m glad we did. It was special to have a “closing ceremony” of sorts - even though we all went back to the house at the venue for an after party)
• Photo backdrop and neon “good vibes only” sign - gifted

Florals: $2322

• Flower Moxie “Wildflower Package” with additional add ins ($2260) - these flowers were amazing. (photo of my bouquet in a vase - I’d had the flowers for 1 week!) We got buckets from Trader Joes for free. We had pruning shears and gloves on hand. We have a family member that has done florals for a few weddings and works at a plant shop. She gave us the amazing gift of doing our bouquets and bringing in potted flowers and ferns as well. She also designed a faux flower arbor accent for us based on our flowers. This work was incredible. Happy to answer more DIY flower questions.
• Grandparent charms ($102): both sets of my grandparents passed away. I had these designed from etsy with 3 charms including their wedding photo, kiss photo, and cake cutting photo. Absolutely worth it. Planning to re-purpose as a christmas tree ornament heirloom.

Food: $8133

• Wedding catered for 174 people, Chickfila for wedding day lunch (~70 people), PapaJohn’s Thursday night of wedding weekend
• Catering was buffet and “Heavy Hors d'oeuvres” style with a mac n’cheese bar and we heard only good things from everyone
• Included cake cutting service, coffee/tea/watelemonade, and sodas/mixers/ice for the bar
• Bride mom paid for costco snacks/sandwiches for the weekend
• Groom family paid for catered rehearsal dinner
• Bride mom mom paid for wedding cake ($75) also from costco which was amazing - we did 3 sheet cakes and 1 round cake for cutting. We had 1 entire sheet cake leftover.

Alcohol: $3752

• BeeWine for wedding and rehearsal dinner ($1557); wedding day bartenders x3 for 5.5hrs ($1950), personalized koozies ($245)
• Groom’s family had a contact and bought all the liquor for the rehearsal dinnewedding
• Our venue allowed BYOB, and some of this cost includes extra alcohol for the wedding weekend, though we also had friends BYOB
• Beer from Sam’s Club and Total Wine ($727) - mix of Miller, Coors, Ultra, Founder’s IPA, Stella (this is the only alcohol that ran out)
• Wine from Trader Joes ($830)- you can talk with someone about ordering cases in advance and it took about 5 days to arrive. We did not do a champagne toast, but I got 10 bottles of trader joe’s prosecco to have at the bridal party house for the weekend. We got 2 cases of red, 6 cases of white, 2 cases of rose and had between 6-12 bottles of each type of wine leftover. I only bought wine that we like, so plan to drink it in the coming months and did not ask about their return policy.

DJ: $1925

• Included ceremony speakers/2 mics, had a fun video display that rotated out photos of people dancing, and including lighting

Photography/Videography: $9839

• Photo ($4839) 10 hours day of wedding and an engagement session.
• Video ($5000) 9 hours day of and includes a short video plus we paid extra to have all the raw footage
• These were some of our biggest hype people! It was definitely a price point early in the planning process where we had sticker shock, but we are very happy with the decisions we made here. These memories are priceless and the day really does fly by. They made us feel so at ease and so comfortable just being ourselves and coordinating chaotic big families and making the day all about us being in love and celebrating our love.

Clothing: $3930

• Groom suit ($462 - mens warehouse custom, “lifetime” alterations - was a mess. Dropped it off 6 weeks before the wedding, they didn’t call and tell us it was ready, called them the week before the wedding and they said it was ready, the pants were not even hemmed and incorrect alterations had been done. We bought a “back-up” sale suit from J Crew that night for ~$300 and that’s what my husband ended up wearing- no alterations but fit and looked better than the men’s warehouse. Hopefully we get other uses out of both suits).
• Groom shoes, tie, belt, suit shirt ($180)
• Bride Dress ($2299- Stella York- included steaming, storage, preservation), alterations ($410- 7 point bustle, hemmed, shoulders shortened, felt added to shoulder straps, button loops added - was just a zipper, back taken in slightly).
• Bride Shoes ($99 - custom converse, wore several times again already!), Bra ($50- boomba, worked great!), accessories ($130), Veil $20 on amazon and perfect.
• Last minute also added in a new rehearsal dinner dress and short party dress that can be worn for other occasions. I loved my wedding dress and really wanted to wear it all night but about 30min into dancing I wasn’t able to party as much as I wanted to and was glad I had the party dress to swap into!

Other: $3349

• Wedding bands from Brilliant Earth: Groom ($1285- platinum), Bride ($1069- white gold)
• HMUA $125 for haimakeup/lashes- (was also $125 for the trial - glad I did it!)- there was also a travel fee as we had it done at the venue that I paid.
• Marriage License $85, Notary $60
• Officiant $300
• Groomsman Gift ($300)
• Bridesmaid Gift ($0- family friend quilted large tote bags for everyone)
• Bridesmaid/Groomsmen Attire ($0 for us - we had large bridal parties so did not cover this cost. Bridesmaid’s ordered their preference of Azazie dress - decided on bermuda blue to contrast the wildflowers- and groomsmen rented from Men’s Warehouse).

Tips: $770

• We tipped our day of coordinator $100, DJ $100 (owns the business, but did great!), HMUA 20% ($300 - I paid the entire tip cost for my bridal party but they paid for the HMU cost).
• Photo/Video own their businesses so did not tip- (leaving reviews!)
• Asked catering about tipping and they said they pay all staff a fair wage and it is not expected and gave a range of what people sometimes do tip. We ended up tipping the 9 staff/bartenders $30 each.

Our wedding was amazing for us. It felt like an event that truly encapsulated who we are as individuals and as a couple, and that chance to celebrate with so many people we love was priceless. It felt like all the spreadsheets we’d worked on for the last 2 years turned into reality. This is the main master spreadsheet I used:
Google Spreadsheet Wedding Planning
It’s created from all sorts of different helpful spreadsheets I found here and from other wedding websites. The “Checklist” really doesn’t start until I realized how easy it is to get lost in needing to capture so many personal little details that would keep me up at night feeling like they were slipping through the cracks. But if you’re starting from the beginning, you will need to include the big ticket “check boxes” that are in the budget portion. Hopefully it can help some others! Happy planning Weddit!

Hawkeye

"Clint. You should not be here."
"Really? I retire for, what, five minutes and it all goes to shit."

Clint Barton worked as one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents for a number of years under the codename Hawkeye, being put on various assignments from keeping an eye on notable items like Mjolnir and the Tesseract to the mysterious Budapest mission where he recruit Natasha Romanov to S.H.I.E.L.D.. These experiences led to him becoming a founding member of the Avengers despite his own claims of just being a regular guy with a bow. Hawkeye worked with the Avengers for several years, from Ultron's attack to the superhero civil war that saw the group falling apart at the seams. However, his life as he knew it was snatched away after the invasion of Thanos, which saw 50% of all life in the universe being erased including Hawkeye's entire family. Hawkeye took up the alias of Ronin, a vigilante that roamed the globe in a vengeful rampage to kill the many criminals that had survived Thanos' snap. He eventually rejoined the Avengers after they discovered a way to bring back everyone that had been erased, but the guilt from what he had done as a result of his grief still weighed on him even after his family had been brought back. It wasn't until he met his future protégé Kate Bishop that Clint's faith in himself and his efforts as a superhero were restored.

Source Key

Movies

Av - The Avengers
AoU - The Avengers: Age of Ultron
CW - Captain America: Civil War
End - Avengers: Endgame

Other Sources

AI - The Avengers: The Avengers Initiative
OH - Avengers: Operation HYDRA
SM:HP - Spider-Man: Homecoming Prelude
H - Hawkeye (Disney+)

Strength

Striking

• Kicks a chitauri grunt off of a roof^Av
• Breaks his baton on Vision's head^CW
• Punches a man through a glass window^End
• Knocks a man out with a punch to the head^H

Piercing

• Stabs a chitauri with an arrow and later does it again^Av
• Embeds an arrow in the head of an Ultron drone which weren't visibly damaged by bullets^AoU
• Stabs an arrow through another Ultron drone^AoU
• Embeds arrows in pipes and the roof of a tunnel by throwing them^End
• Cuts an outrider in half with his blade^End

Other

• Snaps out of the ziptie that was holding him^H
• Throws a man off of him^H
• Suplexes a man and knocks him unconscious^H

Speed/Agility

Reaction

• Avoids a blast from Loki's scepter^Av
• Reacts to Wanda sneaking up on him, stunning her^AoU
• Ducks under the blast of an Ultron drone^AoU
• Avoids being blasted by Iron Man^CW
• Briefly scuffles with Black Panther^CW
• When a molotov is thrown at the second story window he was standing by, he breaks the window and catches it before throwing it back^H
• Dodges several strikes from Yelana Belova^H
• Sees a sniper laser on his chest and immediately uses a tray to block the bullet^H
• Reacts to both unarmed and bat strikes from a man that later caught one of his arrows^H
• Ducks out of the way when Yelena Belova attempts to shoot him^H

Mobility

• Jumps between rooftops^End
• Leaps between various shelves as goons try to attack him from below^H

Durability

Blunt

• Takes multiple blows from Black Widow^Av
• Gets punched by Quicksilver^AoU
• Knocked back by Vision^CW
• Kicked by Black Panther^CW
• Takes a bat to the leg^H
• Rolls through a wooden shelf and isn't noticeably affected^H
• Takes several blows from Echo over the course of their fight who later kicked a man a short distance down the street^H
• Is punched by Yelena Belova and continues to dodge afterwards^H
• Gets kicked in the knee and thrown into the front of a car by Echo^H
• Gets tackled onto an ice rink by Yelena Belova and in that same fight receives a kick to the chest^H
• Takes an extended beating from Yelena^H

Other

• Unaffected by a hard landing in a quinjet^Av
• Crashes through a window^Av
• Gets shoved through a window by Quicksilver^AoU
• Jumps from one story in the air^End
• Stunned by Black Widow's shock dark but quickly removes it^End
• Survives the Avengers base getting bombarded^End
• Gets shocked by Yelena Belova's widow's bite^H
• Falls a fair distance out of a building into the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree which then is knocked into the ice rink below^H

Skill

Accuracy

• While in a plane, shoots an arrow out the open back so that it loops back around and latches onto the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, hitting the perfect spot so that he can blow up one of its engines^Av
• Shoots a USB arrow directly into the port of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computers to upload a virus^Av
• Takes out a flying chitauri transport while looking in the opposite direction^Av
• Hits the back of the head of a chitauri pilot from a great distance^Av
• Fires two arrows into the heads of Ultron drones at the same time^AoU
• Hits two bullseyes on a dartboard simultaneously^AoU
• Scores a bullseye on two targets at the same time^OH
• Shoots through the webbing that was binding Captain America's hands from a good distance away^CW
• Lands several non-lethal shots on some criminals, including one that he fires backwards^H
• Fires two arrows at once, pinning someone to a wall^H
• Flips over a banister, firing an arrow while midair that frees Kate her from her restraints^H
• After Kate shoots an arrow high into the air, he hits it with another shot^H
• Claims that he's split an arrow with another arrow which he later demonstrates^H
• Flicks a Christmas ornament so that it hits a button and turns off the tv (Clint claims that he could do a similar thing with a quarter to knock a guy out from twenty feet away)^H
• Fires an arrow out of a building into the window of a sniper sitting in the opposite building^H

Fighting/Close Quarters

• Fights on an equal level to Black Widow^Av
• Fends off a chitauri warrior^Av
• Temporarily gets the better of Black Widow^CW
• Is proficient in sword fighting, winning an exchange with the head of a yakuza organization^End
• Fights some members of the tracksuit mafia while unarmed^H
• Styles on some LARPers^H
• Mows through a group of criminals as Ronin^H
• Engages in an extended, unarmed fight with Echo (though he is admittedly on the backfoot for much of it)^H
• When he fights Echo again as Ronin he defeats her handily^H
• Temporarily gets the better of Yelena Belova though in the end he loses that confrontation^H
• Puts Yelena Belova into a headlock^H
• Will use his bow as a melee weapon if his opponents get in close^H

Other

• Brings a jet with one destroyed engine to ground level without crashing^Av

Gear

Bow
Mechanics

• It's collapsible for ease of transport and instantly snaps into shape when needed^Av
• Allows Clint to swap out for a specific trick arrowhead with the press of a button^Av
• He can remotely trigger his explosive arrows^Av
• The bow itself possesses a grappling hook that latches onto metal^H

Strength

• Blows up an Ultron drone with seemingly a regular arrow^AoU
• Shoots through multiple Ultron drones^AoU
• An arrow clashes with Vision's beam^SP:HP
• Echo is unable to pull the arrows out of a wall when Hawkeye uses them to pin her^H

Trick Arrows
Explosive

• Blows up one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier's engines^Av
• Blasts away S.H.I.E.L.D. agents^Av
• Detonates in Loki's hand, destroying the chitauri vehicle he was riding and sending him crashing into Stark Tower^Av
• Throws up a large amount of dust and snow^AoU
• Knocks back Iron Man^CW
• Knocks Black Widow aside^End
• Delayed explosives that blow up a tunnel behind him^End
• Blows up the front of a van and causes it to crash^H
• An explosive arrow that blasts away a group of men and craters an ice rink^H

Shock/Electrical

• Wanda is stunned when Clint slams one into her forehead^AoU
• Shoots two arrows which create an electric barrier than traps Vision^CW
• Covers Vision in electricity^CW
• An arrow that covers an opening in electric ropes^H
• An arrow that restrains and electrocutes a man into unconsciousness^H

Acid

• Acid arrows which quickly melt through stoplights^H
• Knocks over the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree^H

Transportation

• Grappling hook arrow that embeds into the side of a building for Clint to swing on^Av
• An arrow that shoots a grappling hook in either direction once fired, forming a zipline for Kate to ride^H

Disorientation

• One arrow releases some sort of noxious gas that fills a car and causes the driver to crash (Hawkeye later uses this to force a sniper out of his position)^H
• A concussive arrow that blasts people back and leaves its targets disoriented^H
• Another gas arrow that's a different color^H
• A flashbang arrow^H

Pym Particles (Size Changing)

• Grows an ordinary arrow as tall as a bridge^H
• Shrinks a van to the size of a toy^H

Other

• One which splits into two data drives which go into ports on a SHIELD helicarrier, infecting it with a virus which shuts down several computers and cuts off power to an engine^Av
• An arrow which fires in a circle around itself shortly after hitting a target^Av
• An arrow which rapidly heats the part of a Chitauri chariot it hits, causing it to break in half^Av
• A shockwave arrow which takes out the remaining goons in a warehouse^AoU
• A leg-mounted pack of retractable arrows, which seemingly allows him to fire all of them simultaneously^AoU
• An arrow that splits into multiple smaller arrows which proceed to loop around Iron Man, though its unclear if they would have actually hit him or if they were purely for distraction^CW
• Flashlight arrow^End
• An arrow that superheats a chitauri transport before causing it to explode^H
• Puddy arrows spread across a van's windshield (Hawkeye also suggests mucking up their wheels with it)^H
  • Kate later uses it to obscure some flashing lights^H
• An arrow that Kate fires into the front of a van shoots multiple cords in every direction, latching onto anything close and pulling them in (which in this instance was Christmas trees)^H
• The plunger arrow is able to support his and Kate's weight as they hang from the side of a train^H
• Tracer arrows which he can track the location of^H
• An arrow with a compartment for a message^H
• An arrow that turns a series of flagpoles magnetic so that some goons cannot use their weapons^H
• An arrow that releases an inflatable ball that instantly blows up and launches some men into the air^H
• An arrow that attaches to a man's leg and drags him into the air via miniature rockets^H
• Ice arrow that freezes a man's leg^H
• Tranquilizer arrow that releases a series of smaller tranquilizer darts in all directions once it hits its target^H
• An arrow that spins and releases what appears to be nails in all directions^H

Other

• Knife^Av
• Baton^CW
• Shurikens
• Sword^End
• Flashlight on his arm^End
• Wrist-launched grappling hook^End
• Small explosive disks that he can easily stick to flat surfaces and can remotely detonate with a button on his bow^H
• A wrist-mounted crossbow, which fires with enough force to embed the bolts in metal after being deflected^AI
• He seemingly uses this same crossbow to take out an outrider^End

Misc.

• Is unphased by Wanda throwing a knife at his head^CW
• Speaks Japanese^End
• Requires a hearing aid because of his time in the Avengers and he is nearly completely deaf without it^H
• Hawkeye jumpscare^H
• Stealthily takes out a group of criminals without any of them seeing him^H
• He makes most of his trick arrows himself^H

"Nice shot."
"Yeah, no shit."

Inside the boundless expanse of Loria Online, Guspy the elven mage drained the last of his mana vaporizing a Vickerbite. It was his third hour of grinding this particular mob, and he was getting tired.
“What’s the drop rate on this thing again?” he asked Collins.
Collins cleaved another Vickerbite with his greataxe. “0.02% or something. Getting bored?”
Guspy was indeed getting bored. Despite their grotesque appearance (they looked like flying crocodile heads with mosquito feet), Vickerbites were pushovers.
“Yeah, I might only have a few minutes’ more patience for this.”
Collins slammed his axe into the ground, causing a shockwave that killed another three. “That’s ok, we’ve been playing for a while. It just kind of feels like wasted time if we quit now, though.”
“Are you getting close to leveling?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither.”
A Vickerbite burst when he swatted it with his staff. A loot bag dropped onto the rust colored dirt.
Probably another Vicker Tongue or leg or something, Guspy thought. He almost didn’t bother to check. But when he did, he found what he and Collins had been seeking for so long.
“I got it! The belt dropped!”
“Thank God, let’s get out of here,” Collins said, regrouping with the mage he protected.
Guspy read the item description for The Belt of Endurance.
The Belt of Endurance Slot: Belt Rarity: Very Rare Earth Resistance: %%0 Air Resistance: %%0 Fire Resistance: %%0 Water Resistance: %%0 Physical Resistance: %%0 Magic Resistance: %%0 Debuff Resistance: %%0
“What the hell?” Guspy said.
“What’s wrong? Is it the wrong belt?” Collins casually swatted two final Vickerbites.
“The stats are glitched or something. It’s supposed to be 5% resistance to everything, right?”
“The BoE? Yeah, 5% resist all. Is it not?”
“It shows ‘percent percent zero’.”
Collins shrugged. “Put it on, see what happens.”
Guspy equipped the belt and checked his character’s stats. “Ha, that’s so weird. All of my resistances show backslash, open parenthesis, ‘N’, close parenthesis.”
Collins used the Warrior’s Assessment ability on Guspy. “Huh. When I analyze you, I see hashtag ‘null’.”
“That’s either really good or really bad,” said Guspy.
Collins raised his sword and struck Guspy on the shoulder.
Collins attacks you for 0 damage
“There are safer ways to check!” Guspy said.
“It didn’t hurt you, weird. Mind if I use a little Fire Fan scroll on you?” Collins asked with a toothy grin.
“You have one? Aren’t you a little over leveled for that?” Fire Fan produced a tiny cone of flame that did very little damage.
“I’m a hoarder. So, can I?” Collins wiggled the scroll between his fingers.
Guspy agreed.
Collins casts Fire Fan for 0 fire damage
“Guspy, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think that belt makes you invincible,” said Collins.
Guspy began to bounce up and down in excitement. “Oh man, think of the possibilities! I can solo raid a guild hall. The Nighthawks deserve that kind of ass whupping,” he said, referring their rival guild in Loria. “Or I can loot an end-game dungeon! We’re not far from The Death Pit.”
Collins looked into Guspy’s eyes and gave him the smile a parent gives a child when they ask where rainbows end.
“Oh, you asshole!” said Guspy.
“I think you should turn it in,” said Collins.
“Why?! Why would I do that?! The Nighthawks have been bullying us for months now. With this, I could walk right in their guild hall, wipe them out, and tear the whole thing down. They wouldn’t be able to stop me! You can’t tell me they don’t deserve it.”
“Not saying they don’t,” said Collins.
Guspy pressed, “I can farm The Death Pit for Soulflayers. Everyone in our guild could have a Soulflayer, even the newbies. They’d finally be tough enough to join us on raids. You know how they’ve been dying to play with us in high level zones. Think how happy they would be!”
“Oh, they’d be awfully happy,” said Collins.
Guspy unleashed his coup de grace. “And! I can go to Fort Murder, stroll through it without a care in the world, kill the general, and not have to split the loot with anyone. That means I would get a Headsman’s Axe, which I would of course donate to my dear friend Collins. Wouldn’t you like a Headsman’s Axe?”
“I absolutely would,” said Collins.
“Ok, good. So, I’ll just—"
“Turn it in, Guspy,” said Collins.
Guspy stamped his feet in frustration. “Why though? You just said you were on board with the Nighthawks and the Soulflayer and the axe!”
“Oh, I am. The Nighthawks need to get taught. Having the newbies be tough enough to join us would be great. I’ve been dying for a Headsman for months now. But you’d be cheating. Momma didn’t raise no cheater, and daddy didn’t raise no troll,” said Collins.
“That’s so backward. You know the Nighthawks would do that to us if they got it,” said Guspy.
“Sure enough. But we can’t control what they do, and I can’t control what you do. I just want you to remember what I’ve said before: there’s a person on the other end of that character. A person just like you. I can only imagine how tilted you’d get if someone cheated to become invincible and killed you. Or farmed their whole guild ultra-rares and used them on you. I’m just asking you, as a friend, to turn it in. Please.”
Guilt. He’s put the guilt in me, thought Guspy. What an asshole.
“Fine, I’ll head to Pokate and turn it in,” said Guspy, pouting and kicking an errant stone.
“Thanks, Gusp. I promise I’ll help you find a legit one. I gotta go, though. Play later?”
“You know it,” said Guspy, and he watched Collin’s avatar dissipate.
Guspy walked back to Pokate City, the largest player hub in the area. The journey was a particularly hazardous one. Wild beast attacks, an assassin, a rockslide, even an errant fireball from an ongoing battle, all harmless in the face of his perfect resistance. He crossed into the city proper, whitewashed buildings that held little shops and extra dimensional guildhalls. Pokate Palace loomed over all of this like a resplendent sundial. The stained-glass windows shimmered in the sunlight.
Guspy approached a beggar in the street. The beggar’s body was gaunt. His dirty rags and matted beard spoke of hungry days and cruel nights. The beggars of Loria Online were portals to moderator attention. Speaking to a beggar cued a request. A moderator would eventually take control of the beggar and offer assistance.
Guspy knelt before the beggar.
“I’d like to speak with a moderator, please.”
“All in good time, my boy,” the beggar wheezed.
Guspy felt an itch in his legs. There was still time to run wild, to reap the rewards of his lottery ticket. He cursed Collins for guilting him and attempted to distract himself. Guspy admired the features on the beggar. His eyes traced cavernous wrinkled flesh. Saw the tiny movements of lice in the filthy thick beard. Saw the faintest deposits of salt in two long tracks leading down from the cloudy blue eyes.
The beggar had been crying. Why would they include such a heartbreaking detail? Why haven’t I ever noticed this before? Guspy thought.
The clouds in the beggar’s eyes parted, revealing a bright blue sky. “Thank you for waiting, this is Raymond. How can I help you?” A voice as crisp as autumn wind now spoke through the beggar.
“Uhh, hi. I’ve got a problem with an item I found?” Guspy spoke at the mouth of the beggar.
“Sure thing! Is it an item you have equipped right now?”
“Yeah, The Belt of Endurance. The values look wonky, and It makes me immune to every element. I’m immune to physical and magic damage now too.”
There was a long pause, the beggar’s eye fluttered. “You’re reporting that an item is broken in your favor?”
Guspy winced. “Umm, yes sir? It basically makes me immortal.”
Guspy waited patiently. The moderator was using his tools to see Guspy’s menu screens, something that was normally private.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” the beggar said. “It’s a null shunt error.”
“A null shunt error?”
“Yeah. Sometimes during a drop-roll, the system shunts over a clipped value that…sometimes it breaks.”
“Ah.”
“They’re a bitch to fix. Thankfully very rare. This one is particularly bad, and I’m at the end of my shift.” The mod let out a sigh that prophesized an exhausting tedious future.
“Well…thank you for your honesty! Usually when an item glitches in a player’s favor, they keep it a secret for as long as they can. Then they have a temper tantrum when we take it away. Alright, Guspy, I’m on morning shift tomorrow. I don’t want to deal with this right now. I’m giving you eight hours of god mode. Can I trust you not to make me regret it?”
Guspy was stunned. A mod was allowing immortality for eight hours? Trusting him? Why?
“You can trust me,” Guspy said.
“I hope so. I’ll fix this in the morning, don’t take the belt off or you’ll have negative infinite resistance and die from a sunburn.” The beggar’s eyes clouded back over.
Guspy threw a gold piece into the beggar’s bowl, a good luck ritual that even the highest level raiders did before a dangerous run.
He was in the clear. A mod had okayed him having god mode. Anything I do is the mod’s fault now! Guspy thought, but the thought gave him a queasy feeling the moment it passed through his mind. He was being trusted. He had promised to not make the mod regret it.
What was the mod’s name? Randy? He remembered Collins's words about there being real people on the other end of the game. He supposed that meant Randy too. He imagined telling someone to their face that his actions were their fault, like trust somehow absolved him of responsibility. He imagined someone else doing that to him. Or doing that to his little sister…
He spent a fair amount of gold on fast travel scrolls, valuable, single-use items that would transport the player anywhere in Loria. Guspy now stood on the craggy lip of Salamander’s Eye. The massive active volcano dominated the primordial jungle landscape. A vast column of ebony smoke rose from the lava pit, the birthplace of thunderclouds. Guspy spread his arms wide and fell into the heat, letting simulated gravity carry him downward to the roiling floor of liquid earth.
At the last moment he reflexively raised his hands to shield himself. Lava was instant death in Loria, doing an infinite amount of damage per second. Guspy was now sinking slowly in this most dangerous of elements unharmed. He raised his hand in a thumbs up as he sank beneath the surface.
Whorls of incandescent crimson, brown, and orange materialized and dispersed endlessly. It was like looking into the fickle furnace of creation, so eager to invent but too chaotic to design.
Guspy wondered if he’d fall forever. At last, his feet settled on something solid. He was the first player to set foot here. A unique accomplishment, one he could keep. He moved through the lava as though it was water. Must not have been a very important thing to program considering you die as soon as you touch it, he thought.
Guspy explored the floor of the volcano. It was perfectly smooth and without texture, an entire volcano held up on a pane of glass. But then he found something. A deformity in the bottom of the world. He explored it with his hand. It felt like a solid bubble sticking up out of the flat plane beneath him. It moved a little.
It’s a doorknob! Guspy realized. He turned it and felt it fall away beneath him. He sank further and dropped into a vast open room, the lava didn’t follow past the entry. Guspy cast a series of Light spells, banishing the darkness to the black obsidian of the walls and floor.
A giant floating sign that hung suspended in midair grabbed Guspy’s attention.
“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO GET HERE.”
“Shows what you know, sign,” Guspy said, and began to explore.
In the secret chamber Guspy found dozens of monster models from the surrounding area, frozen in the sterile T-position. He took the time inspect them in the minutest detail. He saw the way salamander skin glittered with the luster of countless ruby gemstones. He watched the dancing flames of fire elementals, and discovered their heat rose above the limitation of their hitbox. He looked deep into the eyes of a stone golem and saw that they were prisms. They split the blue glow of the golem’s magical core into a frigid winter sunset, whites and blues dancing and concealing a secret whisper of deep red.
I don’t think I ever really looked at the models before, he thought. Even now he couldn’t recall any specific details of any monster he had fought. They were all colored blurs in his mind, faceless values and blocks of information.
Despite his immortality, he still froze in fear when his spell illuminated a colossus of steel tucked away in a corner of the room. It was a broad suit of cold iron armor, bereft of adornment and pockmarked with the careless ministrations of a thousand hammers beating the metal into shape. In one clenched fist it carried a wicked looking cleaver, one that belonged in a giant’s butcher shop, used to crack the toughest dragon bones and partition the choicest bits.
Guspy had never seen or heard of this creature in his life.
You must not have made it into the final game. At least not yet, thought Guspy. Despite its beastly ugliness, Guspy felt a pang of remorse. Someone worked to design every aspect of this monstrosity to evoke the feelings of fear and disgust, and they had been very successful. But it had gone unused and unseen since the game’s inception.
I remember the Christmas ornament I made in middle school. A Christmas light made to look like a reindeer, googly eyes and fuzzy brown pipe cleaners for antlers. I was so proud. But when Christmas came, they didn’t want to put it on the tree. They thought it looked too silly.
Guspy left a gold coin at its feet, alms for unsung effort.
He was preparing to depart when he noticed an unadorned chest had appeared beneath the presumptive sign. Guspy was certain it hadn’t been there before. He approached, circling the chest, before reaching out and lightly tapping it. He may invulnerable, but this was a developer’s world. Who knows what treachery could hide here? He lifted the lid, tilting his head and peeking at its contents with one eye shut. Inside was a billiard sized ball of translucent glass. Guspy recognized a Title Sphere. These rare items would grant a moniker to the character’s name. It was a single use item worth tens of thousands of gold. Too curious to resist learning what it would bestow, he shattered the sphere in his palm. Red dust flowed between his fingers like Martian sand. His name had changed from Guspy to Guspy the Wanderer.
Guspy used his next scroll and teleported to the shipwreck of the Soothsayers Doom. A brig suspended above the ocean on a monstrous coral bed, the ship itself was a mid-level dungeon. Players could fight their way from deck to deck, battling undead crewmen that fired grapeshot salvos into crowded rooms, shredding players into bloody clouds. The Captain was the boss of the dungeon, and part of his loot was a map that would send players on a quest line that eventually led players to the halls of the merfolk king, an extremely high-level dungeon at the bottom of the ocean.
Being immortal, Guspy took what players called the ‘express route’, swimming directly downward from the open sea. It was suicide. Besides suffocation, players had to contend with titanic carcharodons, giant squid, invisible water elementals, and elite merfolk guard. These creatures had mastery of the terrain, and few players were accustomed to attacks that could come from any direction.
Beneath him, the phosphorescent glow of the Coral Castle overpowered the distant sun for dominion of the depths. Guspy slipped into a castle window, ignoring the tridents of the pursuing Knights of Pearl. The Castle was a dungeon that needed to be completed quickly, lest the player’s water breathing magic wear off. That made it the perfect sight-seeing location for someone who didn’t need to breathe. Guspy examined the meticulously decorated royal bedrooms. The books in Loria were filled with open source stories from the real world. Players spent hours in this fantasy world engrossed in the prose of Tom Sawyer and Paradise Lost. But yellowed letters fell from between the pages like autumn leaves.
Never whole without you, my beloved Jennifer,
B.C.
Guspy didn’t know the merfolk princess even had a name. Neither had he any idea who B.C was, or if these pages were part of some fetch quest he had never come across.
Deeper in the palace he found the throne room of the merfolk king. The king was gigantic, of course, all raid bosses were. The king was also an enemy that demanded constant focus and attention to defeat. He cycled seamlessly through attack patterns, buffs, and stage activations. Missing the tell-tale signs would leave you a step behind the dance and doomed to failure.
Guspy now had a unique opportunity. He ignored the king completely. The throne room was heaped with chests of gold and artifacts plundered from sunken ships. But they were only decorative, ersatz décor designed to regale the room with the trappings of wealth and luxury. Being worthless, players ignored them. Guspy took the time to closely inspect the mountains of coins and bejeweled quillions that rose from the coin piles. Ignoring the world-shaking bolts of lightning, magical rays, and great sweeps of the merfolk king’s trident, he crouched to the level of a single coin.
There, in the face of the coin, were three smiling children. The normal relief of Empress Aubrianna, a mythical figure in Origin’s history, was replaced with a picture of a family. The normal Latin phrase, “A solis ortu usque ad occasum”, had been replaced with, “Jason, Melody, Brock”. He moved from one coin to the next. Families, pets, and selfies looked back at him. Some had names written, others messages, “Thx Mel, my rock <3” “Joe & Cara 4 eva” “We did it!”
Guspy wondered if any player had ever seen these. Maybe, but he hadn’t, and that made it special to him. He wondered what he would put on his own coin. Me, Collins, and Becca at the beach, he thought. A picture that had been his desktop background for years. The only evidence of a perfect day.
Having taken his fill of the throne room, Guspy pulled out another scroll and teleported away.
Hogglerock dungeon was an aberration. Most dungeons tried to evoke a sense of awe or fear, but Hogglerock was just gross. Its entrance was at the center of a mud-smothered swamp. Poisonous insects and carnivorous slugs roamed the wastes searching for carrion to strip or making their own if none could be found.
To descend into the putrid depths of Hogglerock, you entered the mouth of a great saurian beast. It was long since dead, its flesh in a perpetual state of decay. Down its mucus-caked throat, you entered a dungeon that had been created from the offal that remained of its digestive system. Noxious acid pools, monstrous parasites, and bloated scavengers challenged players that came to plunder the carcass.
Guspy had to stop and think before entering the sixth stomach of the beast. He had no idea if his plan would work, or even made sense. Guspy removed all his armor and weapons, save for the Belt of Endurance. He entered the dungeon’s final room, aggroing a great bipedal minotaur and its bovine kin. Guspy sat and crossed his legs. He closed his eyes and focused on slowing his breath and his heart. Aggro in Loria was based on a series of factors: proximity, source of damage or debuff, equipment levels, class, movement, and supposedly even biometric data the VR rig was able to obtain.
The monsters were instantly aggroed when the rubbery sphincter of the sixth stomach was touched, converging on their only target. Guspy’s lack of equipment, aggression, and stillness would reduce his aggro over time. He waited and he watched. In time the monsters lost interest, ceasing their attacks and wandering back to their starting positions. Guspy continued to watch. For a time, they only bobbed in place, replaying idle animations and howling blistering war cries. But, in time, Guspy saw a strange behavior begin. One smaller minotaur creature pulled out a hunk of meat, clutching it by the pure white protruding bone. It chomped a piece and munched in contentment, eyes closed in blissful indulgence. The giant boss minotaur began to sniff the air, and a game of keep away began. The smaller minotaurs tossed the meat between themselves as the boss zeroed in on the source of the smell.
Who is this for? wondered Guspy. Who was meant to see this? And how? Why hide it? How many monsters of Loria Online had these little secrets? Tiny moments of humor buried in terabytes of code, only visible in a state of extreme passivity. Once the capering script had completed, the bovines returned to their normal places and continued to cycle basic idle motions.
It’s for me. Since I’m the one watching it, that means it’s for me, thought Guspy.
Guspy pulled out his final scroll, completing the spell just before he was beset again.
Guspy the Wanderer appeared back in Pokate City. His new title drew lingering looks from other players who searched their memories. Guspy’s time was running low, and fatigue massaged his mind and eyes. There was more he could search for. He could run down the hours until the mod logged back on and set things to rights. But he didn’t want the last moments of such an enlightening day to be a race against the clock. It would spoil the sense of calm and contemplation he had cultivated. Instead he sat down next to a beggar and composed a message to Collins.
“I won’t be joining you today, Collins, but I’ve got so much to tell you about when I do.”
He had seen beyond the veil. He witnessed tiny miracles of creation hidden from mortal sight. Sparks of love that flickered once more when observed. For a precious few hours, he was blessed with a peace that allowed him to fall in love with the game all over again, to appreciate its creation like a benevolent god.
Collins and Guspy returned to the red rock canyon. Guspy admired the visible strata of the walls. Simulated eons left perfect layers of color stacked like the pages of a book. Little details, so insignificant yet so engrossing. He appreciated the work that went into this game. The efforts of artists always caught his notice.

1st John   Chapter Two  

The Anointed learns upon us right [זכות, ZeKhOoTh]
[verses 1-6]  

-1. My children [ילדי, YeLahDah-eeY], write I to you [את, ’ehTh (indicator of direct object; no English equivalent)] the words the these to sake you not sin,
and if sins a man, we have to us an advocate [מליץ, MayhLeeYTs] before the father – YayShOo`ah [“Savior”, Jesus] the anointed, the righteous.  

“…ethics in the N.T. [New Testament] is never finally a matter of a ‘works-righteousness’ or code. The Spirit interprets our duty to us in various situations.” (Wilder, 1955, TIB p. XII 227)  

-2. And he is atonement [כפרה, KahPahRaH] for our sins,  

“`Ιλασμος [‘Ilasmos], the atoning sacrifice for our sins… כפור kippur … The word is used only here, and in chap. iv.10.” (Clarke, 1831, p. VI 862)  

and not upon our sins only,
rather [אלה, ’ehLah’] also upon sins of all the world.  

“The apostle does not say that he died for any select part of the inhabitants of the earth, or for some out of every nation, tribe, or kindred, but for ALL MANKIND: and the attempt to limit this is a violent outrage against God and his word.” (Clarke, 1831, p. VI 862)  

-3. And in this know [נדע, NayDah`] that we recognize [שהכרנו, ShehHeeKahRNOo] him:
if we guard his commandments.  
-4. The sayer, “I recognize him”,
and has not guarded [את, ’ehTh] his commandments,
a worder of falsehood is he,
and the truth has not in him.  
-5. But [אך, ’ahKh] the guarder [את, ’ehTh] His word,
in same the man is completed [נשלמה, NeeShLeMaH], in truth, love of Gods;
in this know that in him are we.

1. The sayer that he stands in YayShOoah, as [the] way that walked YayShOoah, yes also is upon him to walk.  

……………………………………………………….  
The new commandment
[verses 7-17]  

-7. My beloved, not a commandment new write I to you,
rather [כי אם, KeeY ’eeM] a commandment old,
that was to you from [the] first.
The commandment, the old, she is the word that you heard.
-8. And in all that, a commandment new write I to you,
a word that is established [שנכון, ShehNahKhON] also in him and also in you,
that see, the darkness passes and the light the true already shines [זורח, ZORay-ahH].  
-9. The sayer that [כי, KeeY] in light he is and with that hates [את, ’ehTh] his brethren,
still is he [עודנו, `ODehNOo] in darkness.
-10. The lover [את, ’ehTh] his brethren stands in light,
and scandal [ומכשול, OoMeeKhShOL] has not in him.  
-11. But [אבל, ’ahBahL] the hater [את, ’ehTh] his brethren, in darkness is he; in darkness he walks [מתהלך, MeeThHahLayKh], and he does not [ואינו, Ve’aYNO] know to where he walks,
for the darkness blinds [עור, `eeVayR] [את, ’ehTh] his eyes.  
-12. Write I to you, my children,
So [מפני, MeePNaY] that will be pardoned to you your sins on behalf of his name.
-13. Write I to you, fathers,
so that you recognize him [אותו, ’OThO], that he was from [the] first.
Write I to you, first-born,
so that you conquer [שנצחתם, SheNeeTsahHThehM] [את, ’ehTh] the evil.  
-14. I wrote to you, children,
so that you recognize [את, ’ehTh] the Father.
I wrote to you, fathers,
so that you recognize [את, ’ehTh] him, that he [was] from [the] first.
I wrote to you, first-born, so that you strengthen, and word [of] Gods is realized in your midst, and you conquer [את, ’ehTh] the evil.

1. Do not love [את, ’ehTh] the world, nor [אף, ’ahPh] [את, ’ehTh] what that is in [the] world; man, if he loves [את, ’ehTh] the world, has not within him love of the father.

“… a love of the creature and the creation is disparaged over against the primal and everlasting ground of existence, the Father and his purpose….
Such an emphasis is indeed exposed to the modern reproach of a false otherworldliness, and this passage has often been used to fortify such a piety.” (Wilder, 1955, TIB pp. XII 238-239)

1. For all that is in the world - lust of [תאות, Thah’ahVahTh] fleshes, lusts of the eyes, and pride of [וגאות, VeGah’ahVahTh] the possessions [הנכסים, HahNeKhahÇeeYM] - not from the father is it, rather it is from the world.

“For the lust of the eyes a passage in the Testament of Reuben[10] (ch. 2) is illuminating. It speaks of the ‘seven spirits of deceit’ which are ‘appointed against man’ of which one is the ‘sense of sight from which ariseth desire’ (cf. also Ezek. [Ezekiel] 20:7-8). Jesus strictly warns against the eye as the occasion of temptation in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. [Matthew] 5:27-29)” (Wilder, 1955, TIB p. XII 240)
[10] “The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs is a constituent of the apocryphal scriptures connected with the Torah. It is a pseudepigraphical work comprising the dying commands of the twelve sons of Jacob. It is part of the Oscan Armenian Orthodox Bible of 1666. Fragments of similar writings were found at Qumran, but opinions are divided if these are the same texts. It is considered Apocalyptic literature.
The Testaments were written in Greek, and reached their final form in the second century CE. In the 13th century that they were introduced into the West through the agency of Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, whose Latin translation of the work gained immediately became popular. He believed that it was a genuine work of the twelve sons of Jacob, and that the Christian interpolations were a genuine product of Jewish prophecy; he accused Jews of concealing the Testaments ‘on account of the prophecies of the Saviour contained in them.’
With the critical methods of the 16th century, Grosseteste’s view of the Testaments was rejected and the book was unjustly disparaged as a mere Christian forgery for nearly four centuries. Presently, scholarly opinions are still divided as to whether the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs are an originally Jewish document that has been retouched by Christians or are a Christian document written originally in Greek but based on some earlier Semitic material. The feasibility of the Jewish author hypothesis is increasingly difficult to defend, while the Christian nature of the book is a given. Scholarship, therefore, focuses on this book as a Christian work, whether or not it has Jewish original (Vorlage).
A copy of the testaments is published in The Lost Books of the Bible and the Forgotten Books of Eden.
The work is divided into twelve books, each purporting to be the last exhortations of one of the twelve titular patriarchs. In each, the patriarch first narrates his own life, focusing on his strengths, virtues, or his sins, using biographical material from both the Hebrew Bible and Jewish tradition. Next he exhorts his listeners to emulate the one and to avoid the other. Most of the books conclude with prophetic visions.
The Testament of Reuben is predominantly concerned with admonishing lust, and the sinfulness of Reuben in his having had sex with Bilhah, a concubine of his father. It is likely that the author wished to cover the topic of fornication anyway, and assigned it for Reuben to discuss due to Reuben's relationship with Bilhah being recounted in the canonical bible. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Testaments_of_the_Twelve_Patriarchs
…
……………………………………………………….
Distressor [צורר, TsORehR] [of] the Anointed [verses 18-28]

1. My children, that is the hour, the last, and, like that you heard that [כי, KeeY] would come the distressor [of] the Anointed [αντιχρισος – antichrisos ~ antichrist], also now have risen distressors of Anointed multitudinous. From here know we that that is the hour, the last.

“The actual term antichrist appears only in I and II John in the N.T. but the same figure is in view in the ‘man of lawlessness’ of II Thess. [Thessalonians] 2:3-4, in the great agent of sacrilege in Mark 13:14 and its parallels, and elsewhere. In our epistle he is identified with the ‘spirit’ of heresy (4:3) or error (4:6) as already come. He has in mind disturbers of the life of the churches generally and pretenders to messiahship or divinity in various parts of the empire. Words assigned to Jesus in the Gospels bearing on these events were thought of by the evangelists as fulfilled in their day. … The church fathers, rightly or wrongly, supply the names of Dositheus[11], Simon Magus[12], Judas Gallaeus, and later, Montanus[13], as having made messianic claims.” (Wilder, 1955, TIB pp. XII 243-244)
[11] “The legendary background of the Pseudo-Clementine polemic informs us that the precursor of ‘Simon Magus’ was a certain Dositheus. He is mentioned in the lists of the earliest hæresiologists, in a Samaritan Chronicle, and in the Chronicle of Aboulfatah (fourteenth century); the notices, however, are all legendary, and nothing of a really reliable character can be asserted of the man. That however he was not an unimportant personage is evidenced by the persistence of the sect of the Dositheans to the sixth century; Aboulfatah says even to the fourteenth. Both Dositheus and ‘Simon Magus’ were, according to tradition, followers of John the Baptist; they were, however, said to be inimical to Jesus. Dositheus is said to have claimed to be the promised prophet, ‘like unto Moses,’ and ‘Simon’ to have made a still higher claim. In fact, like so many others in those days, both were claimants to the Messiaship. The Dositheans followed a mode of life closely resembling that of the Essenes; they had also their own secret volumes, and apparently a not inconsiderable literature.
Dositheus (Dousis, Dusis, or Dosthai) was apparently an Arab, and in Arabia, we have every reason to believe, there were many mystic communities allied to those of the Essenes and Therapeuts.” http://sacred-texts.com/gno/fff/fff20.htm
[12] “Simon Magus (Greek Σίμων ὁ μάγος), also known as Simon the Sorcerer and Simon of Gitta, was a Samaritan proto-Gnostic and traditional founder of the Simonians in the first century A.D. He appeared prominently in several apocryphal and heresiological accounts of early Christian writers, who regarded him as the source of all heresies.
Simon Magus has been portrayed as both student and teacher of Dositheus, with followers who revered him as the Great Power of God. There were accusations by Christians that he was a demon in human form, and he was specifically said to possess the ability to levitate and fly at will. The fantastic stories of Simon the Sorcerer persisted into the Middle Ages, becoming a possible inspiration for Goethe's Faust.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simon_Magus
[13] “Montanism was an early Christian movement of the early 2nd century A.D., named after its founder Montanus. It originated at Hierapolis where Papias was bishop and flourished throughout the region of Phrygia, leading to the movement being referred to as Cataphrygian (meaning it was ‘from Phrygia’). It spread rapidly to other regions in the Roman Empire at a time before Christianity was generally tolerated or legal. Although orthodox Nicene Christianity prevailed against Montanism within a few generations, labeling it a heresy, the sect persisted in some isolated places into the 8th century. Some people have drawn parallels between Montanism and modern Pentecostalism (which some call Neo-Montanism). The most widely known Montanist was undoubtedly Tertullian, who was the foremost Latin church writer before he converted to Montanism. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montanism

1. And you have to you the anointing from [מאת, May’ayTh] the Holy [one], and all of you know.

“The word [anointing] is not used in the N.T. outside the present chapter.” (Wilder, 1955, TIB p. XII 245)
““The χρισμα, chrism, or ointment, here mentioned, is also an allusion to the holy anointing ointment prescribed by God himself, Exod. xxx. 23-25. which was composed of fine myrrh[14], sweet cinnamon, sweet calamus[15], cassia lignea[16], and olive oil.”
[14] “Myrrh is a reddish-brown resinous material, the dried sap of a number of trees, but primarily from Commiphora myrrha, native to Yemen, Somalia, the eastern parts of Ethiopia and Commiphora gileadensis, native to Jordan…. Myrrh was used as an embalming ointment and was used, up until about the 15th century, as a penitential incense in funerals and cremations. The "holy oil" traditionally used by the Eastern Orthodox Church for performing the sacraments of chrismation and unction is traditionally scented with myrrh…” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myrrh
[15] “Sweet Flag, also known as calamus and various rushes and sedges, (Acorus calamus) is a plant from the Acoraceae family, in the genus Acorus. It is a tall perennial wetland monocot with scented leaves and more strongly scented rhizomes, which have been used medicinally, for its odor, and as a psychotropic drug.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sweet_Flag
[16] “The spice now known in pharmaceutical literature under the name of Cassia lignea has, from time immemorial, been an article of trade from South China. Flückiger and Hanbury are indeed of opinion that it was the cinnamon of the ancients, what now bears the name being peculiar to Ceylon and unnoticed as a product of the island till the thirteenth century. (‘Pharmacographia,’ pp. 520, 521.) Cinnamon and cassia are, however, enumerated amongst the products of the East from the earliest periods; and the former was known to the Arabians and Persians as Darchini (dar, wood or bark, and chini, Chinese). It seems in ancient times to have been carried by Chinese traders to the Malabar coast, where it passed into the commerce of the Red Sea. In this way the statements of Dioscorides, Ptolemy, and others, are accounted for, who speak of cinnamon as a product of Arabia and Eastern Africa, countries in which there is no reason to suppose it ever grew.” http://www.henriettesherbal.com/eclectic/journals/ajp1883/03-cassia-lign.html (Clarke, 1831, p. VI 866)
… 22. Who is he, worder false, if not with [בלתי, BeeLTheeY] the denier [הכופר, HahKOPhayR] in thus, that YayShOo`ah, he is the anointed? This is him, distressor [of] the anointed: the denier in father and in son.
“… not the Jewish refusal to recognize Jesus as the messiah; this denial would hardly be made by members of the church… it is the denial that ‘Jesus Christ has come in the flesh’. … The Doscetists made a separation between the earthly Jesus and the heavenly Christ. These verses sound very harsh and dogmatic to us (and cf. 5:10, 12). As a matter of fact, the impulse of the writer was not that of an inflexible orthodoxy: it was an appeal to the abiding dynamic witness of the Spirit, which quickens and leads into all truth. This Spirit was indeed related inseparably to the old oral confessions of the church (cf. Acts 8:37, RSV mg [margin]), but these evidently were already taking various forms, and the meaning of the term Christ, for example, had changed markedly.” (Wilder, 1955, TIB pp. XII 246-247)
“Some have supposed that an Ebionite denial of Jesus’ messiahship is all that is intended here (so Maurice Goguel). But the second part of the verse makes it likely that Docetic-Gnostic issues are involved.” (Wilder, 1955, TIB p. XII 271)
“There were certain persons who, while they acknowledged Jesus to be a Divine Teacher, denied him to be the Christ, i.e., the Messiah.
“He is antichrist that denieth the Father and the Son.] He is antichrist who denies the supernatural and miraculous birth of Jesus Christ; who denies Jesus to be the Son of God; and who denies God to be the Father of the Lord Jesus: - thus he denies the Father and the Son. The Jews in general, and the Gnostics in particular, denied the miraculous conception of Jesus: with both he was accounted no more than a common man, the son of Joseph and Mary. But the Gnostics held that a divine person, ᴁon or angelical being, dwelt in him; but all things else relative to his miraculous generation and divinity they rejected. These were antichrist, who denied Jesus to be the Christ.” (Clarke, 1831, p. VI 866)
... ……………………………………………………….
Children of Gods [verses 28 to end of chapter]   [An Amateur's Journey Through the Bible]()

The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a towering ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, with a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.

Girls: Izzy
Boys: Ezekiel, Mal
Episode 26: Hawaiian Punch
"Previously, on Total Drama World Tour!" Chris said, the first clip of the recap showing a pan from the wrecked plane to Izzy, Mal, and the host himself. "The Final Three took off like bats out of Drumheller," Chris continued as Mal was shown ducking behind a rock with a smirk, Izzy and Topher took off into the air in a makeshift hot air balloon, and Ezekiel was reading a newspaper in the train's passenger car.
"Unfortunately, Izzy brought Topher the plane-wrecker along for the ride," Chris added as the two teens were shown flying into the hailstorm. "Even more unfortunate? A broken yeti heart." Mal was shown being disgusted by the yeti kissing him.
"Thankfully, Ezekiel Clone made things less crappy to watch," the host conceded as Ezekiel Clone was shown chasing Ezekiel around the dessert cart. "Good times!" the host added as Ezekiel's boat hit a naval mine and were blown into the air.
"In the end, Mal the Mayhem King reached Hawaii first," he said as Mal's triumphant arrival on the beach was shown. "And Captain Canada and Princess Destructo tied for second place," he added as Ezekiel's boat was shown crashing into Izzy's, sending both finalists and Topher flying onto the beach at the same time. Chris laughed as the Final Three reacted with shock at the tie.
"Who will Mal face in the final challenge?" Chris asked, the recap ending with a flash to the beach, where the Final Three were lined up behind him. "And who will go home with a million dollars?!" he exclaimed in a dramatic emcee's voice. "Iiiiiit's finale time! Right here, on Total! Drama! World Tour!"
XXXXX
"Welcome to the live finale of Total Drama World Tour," Chris said, a triumphant tune already playing as the camera zoomed in on him, the finalists, and Dawn and Harold standing on the beach. "Moments ago, these guys tied for second in a boat sandwich," he said, the shot zooming in on the finalists before he stepped over to join them. "Tasty!" he added.
"During the break, we sent them to vent in the confessional. Check it!" Chris told the camera.
Confessional: Izzy
Izzy was first, and the new Hawaiian confessional seemed to be a roofless wooden outhouse set up somewhere in the jungle, based on the vines that were drooping into it.
"Finale time!!! I can't wait to purchase my very own race track and monster truck!" she cheered. "Granted, I tied with Ezekiel to the finish line, but I think I can handle him."
She paused for a moment. "It's Mal that's the most challenging. He shouldn't be in juvenile detention. That guy belongs in jail!"
Confessional: Ezekiel
Ezekiel's confessional started with a whoop of joy. "I can't believe how close I am to the million dollars! With that amount of money, I can hire more teachers to homeschool me and buy new and advanced books to study from."
He facepalmed his head. "I just have to beat Izzy and Mal in order to reach that goal."
Confessional: Mal
Mal was next. "Getting rid of the fifteen past losers was sweeter than lollipops and cotton candy combined! And with Mike trapped in my subconscious, that million dollars is mine!"
He delved into maniacal laughter once more, with the background fading into a fiery inferno before the shot zoomed into his subconscious again.
Mike, Manitoba Smith, Vito, Svetlana, and Chester have reached the top, panting in exhaustion from the stairs they had climbed.
Mike, who still had Chester on his back, walked over to a red button in the center of the room. "Oh, come on. We came all the way up here for a lousy button?" Mike complained.
"It's a destruction button, you ninny!" Chester stated.
"What? What does it do?" Svetlana asked.
"You see this tower here?" Chester started. "You press this button, and the tower goes kaboom!"
"Why would Mal have a self-destruct button?" Vito asked incredulously.
"Mal made this tower and since his head is all swelled up, he put this button there just to mock us for not being able to stand up to him," Manitoba deduced.
"But what if it hurts all of us?" Mike asked in concern.
"It's not going to kill us. That's not how DID works!" Chester moaned. "Mal will lose control of his body when his tower is destroyed."
"And after that, Mike and Mal will have to go one-on-one to see who'll claim control!" Svetlana realized.
"Hold up. I have to fight Mal?" Mike said in shock.
"You two are the most dominant out of us," Vito reasoned. "If me or anyone else tried to face him, we'd lose immediately."
"And if Mal defeats you, we'll be back to being under his control, and so will you, for the rest of your life!" Manitoba emphasized.
"That means I won't see my family or friends ever again," Mike gasped. "I have to do this!"
\
"Go Team Ezekiel!" Sadie cheered, drawing attention to the stands just off to the side where most of the rest of the cast were seated. "Your team is rooting for you!" she said, waving a small flag with the home-schooled guy's face on it.
"Why are they in teams?" Mal asked Chris, stepping towards him and shooting a skeptical look towards the gallery. "And why do I not have one?"
"The Peanut Gallery's playing a major role in choosing a winner," Chris explained, earning a cheer from those in the stand.
"Sweet," Duncan grinned. "I guess we're all voting on the winner again."
"A vote?" Mal said blankly and nervously.
"Yep. If you can't tell, you're done for," Noah smirked.
"We are here for you Izzy!" Owen said. "So show them you're the boss!"
"But first," Chris said as the music turned tense, "we gotta break a tie. Mal," he turned to the evil personality, "you won the race to Hawaii, so, your reward is this advantage: you can select the tiebreaker yourself, or you can let Izzy or Ezekiel do it."
"Like I'd give these short sacks a choice," Mal said with a chuckle. "I'll do it!"
"I was hoping you'd say that," Chris said with an ominous laugh that caused Mal to raise an eyebrow.
\
"Ta-da!" Chris said as the footage skipped forward to a close-up of a clear glass booth with some sort of yellowish bulb filled with small balls on top. "Each ball inside our challenge booth has a different tiebreaker written on it," he said, gesturing to the bulb as the shot pulled back to show the Final Three on the left and the Aftermath hosts behind the booth on the right. "So, take your pick!"
"This is going to be such a thrill," Mal said cynically before walking into the booth.
The door was closed and the machine whirred to a start, challenge music playing as Mal was pelted with the white golf balls of the challenge booth. "Are these golf balls?!" Mal yelled, wincing with every hit and causing the Peanut Gallery to laugh.
"I know for a fact that we only put ping pong balls in there," Harold said nervously, Dawn nodding in agreement.
"I know," Chris told them, "and I'm not mad. Just disappointed. I had to dial it up to meet my usual high standards!"
"Enough!" Mal said, still wincing with every hit. "This should stop right-" he said, tilting his head up as he tried to reach for the bottom of the bulb – the source of the balls. He was cut off abruptly, and suddenly put a hand to his throat. His eyes starting to bulge, he barged his way out of the booth and began to gag.
"No ball, no exit," Chris told him. "Back you go!"
Mal stayed put, grabbing his throat as he coughed and choked about. Eventually, he spat up a ball, and it landed in a small pool of spit in the sand.
"Dawn, Harold, go ahead and read that, would you?" Chris asked them.
"Yuck," Dawn winced, crouching down to pick up the spit-covered golf ball in two fingers. "Mal has selected the Traditional Hawaiian Fire Dance of...Death?" she announced, ominous music playing as Ezekiel frowned at the news while Izzy clapped for it.
\
The same Hawaiian tune that had been used in the past couple of episodes was playing as the footage skipped ahead to Ezekiel and Izzy standing on opposite ends of a wooden platform in the ocean, each dressed in coconut bras and grass skirts and holding padded jousting sticks. Between them was Mal, tied up tightly to a pole in the center of the platform.
"Why does a male warrior have to wear a coconut bra," Ezekiel commented, motioning to the odd piece of equipment.
"Forget about tradition?" Mal griped as the Hawaiian music cut out. "I'm stuck to a pole!"
Those in the gallery laughed. "He's funny when he's tied up and can't hurt me!" Owen laughed.
"Once I win this finale!" Mal countered, "you will all treat me with the utmost respect! I will not be forgotten again!"
"Right," Chris told him, the shot cutting to him and Chef on the beach – the hulking man in a floral-print skirt with a bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows on his back. "The first person to free Mal wins the last spot in the Final Two," Chris announced, "and a shot at the million!"
"I have one more question," Izzy spoke up. "If no one frees him, would that make me and Ezekiel the Final Two?"
"Hey!" Mal said in outrage.
"Won't work, I already checked," Chris answered. "Chef, would you do the honors?" he asked his assistant, the man drawing back two flaming arrows and releasing them with a twang. They struck a darkened patch on either side of the platform, just behind each competitor, which promptly burst into blazing fires that startled Izzy and Ezekiel.
"Oh, and stay out of the water," Chris added. "Starting...," Chef shot off another pair of arrows, these ones tipped with steaks, "now!" The arrows landed in the water where a pair of shark fins were already circling; one rose up and swallowed an arrow just as it plunked into the water.
"Good thing we're out of the game," Ella whispered over to Sadie.
"And rekindled our friendship in the process," Sadie agreed as challenge music began to play.
The gallery began to cheer and holler as the camera zoomed in on the platform, Izzy quickly taking the offense by swiping at Ezekiel with her jousting stick. "Prepare to go down!" she said, slamming her stick down hard against his as he tried to block.
"I'm too young to die, eh. I'm gonna take you down!" Ezekiel glared and blocked Izzy.
"Stay on your guard, Zeke!" Topher encouraged him.
"Go for her legs! It's easy!" Shawn spoke out as well.
"Alright, Izzy! You can pound him into meat!" Eva shouted.
"I'd ask any of you for my encouragement, but it'd be useless," Mal mumbled.
"I don't support people who mess with my best friends!" Sky said firmly.
Mal scowled back at her, and an arrow from Chef hit the pole he was tied to, causing it to burn up while Mal tried to blow it away.
His view was covered by Ezekiel having the upper hand on Izzy and thrusting her back. "Save yourself the trouble and let me win!" he said and continued to push his jousting stick onto Izzy and send her closer to her edge.
"Someone better win or I'm going to burst into flames!" Mal yelled impatiently.
Izzy struggled under Ezekiel's stick, but an idea formed in her head. "Hey Ezekiel, I see a hawk that's flying towards you," she fibbed.
"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Ezekiel said. "Nice try."
"Darn it!" Izzy cursed under her breath.
Ezekiel pushed her to the ground, and just as he was about to swipe her off, Izzy lifted her stick and hit Ezekiel's foot with it. The homeschooler howled in pain and let his guard down, and Izzy used the opportunity to jab the padded end of her stick at his chin, knocking him a couple inches into the air and allowing his jousting stick to sink into the water.
He landed on the platform on his back, and Izzy quickly ran over to Mal. The camera angle switched to show her hands darting to the knot on the back, already partially undone, and seconds later the ropes slid off Mal as the challenge music ended.
"It's about time you got me out!" Mal whined. "You took too long to beat Ezekiel of all people."
"You leave him alone!" Izzy snapped. "He's proven himself to be more capable than any of us this season, and he is twice the person you will ever be!"
Ezekiel, still lying on his back, took the moment to smile. "That really means a lot coming from you," he told Izzy.
"Sorry I had to defeat you just to reach the finals," Izzy said as he helped Ezekiel back on his feet. "Are you going to be fine with taking third place?"
"I'm not going to win the cash prize," Ezekiel admitted, "but I've made friends, improved my views on the outside world, and gained a girlfriend from this show. That's more than enough for me now!"
Mal rolled his eyes, and someone in a hazmat suit appeared on the platform with a fire extinguisher. As they began putting out the flame on the fallen charmer's side, the former Final Three made their way to the edge of the platform to the general cheering of the unseen gallery.
\
The scene skipped forward to Izzy (back in her usual clothing) and Mal standing on the beach with Chris, the person in the hazmat suit clinging to the burning and sinking wreckage of the platform in the background.
"Now that we have our Final Two," Chris said with a broad smile, "it's my pleasure to announce the Peanut Gallery will not be voting for the winner."
"Yeah!" Mal said in triumph.
"Wait," Topher spoke up. "You said we were supposed to be playing a major role."
"Yep," Chris told him. "Just not in a vote-y kinda way. Prepare to have your minds blown out by the most lethal challenge in Total Drama history!" he announced dramatically.
"Izzy," he said as a shot of The Psycho Hose Beast smiling goofily against a red background, "versus Mal," a shot of The Malevolent One grinning darkly against a bluish background took over the screen, "versus the Volcano!" The shot changed to a distance shot of a volcano as it belched out a plume of smoke.
"Back in the day," Chris said as the scene cut to him standing between the two finalists; Mal on his left behind a light blue rug, Izzy on his right behind a light red rug; "human sacrifices were tossed into Kilauea volcano to appease the Gods. Sadly, the lawyers won't let me use real people as sacrifices. So! Mal and Izzy will have to make sacrifice stand-ins, using the island's most abundant resources."
The camera followed off-screen, landing on a pile of "Pineapples, and driftwood!"
"And to make it nice and symbolic," Chris continued as the shot cut back to him and the finalists, "you guys have to make dummies of each other to dump in the volcano. Now, you each get to pick two helpers."
"I'm not letting either of you pick me," Duncan immediately told them.
"I'll pick Eva," Izzy said immediately.
"Great!" Eva said standing up. "We'll win this one!"
"Exactly," Izzy smiled. "And my second choice is Noah."
"I normally don't care about contests, but this is one I can't sit out on," Noah said with a smile of his own.
"Sorry, Big-O! I need Team E-Scope for this part!" Izzy told her boyfriend.
"No problem. I want you to win with the best of the best," Owen told her.
Mal looked at the Gallery nervously, the camera panning across Peanut Gallery, all its members glaring at him. "Do I have to pick two?" Mal asked the host.
"Definitely! And all of them hate you." Chris snickered.
Mal groaned under his breath. "In that case, I'm choosing Sky first!"
"I'll help…but only for Mike!" Sky enforced.
"And lastly," Mal scanned the Gallery again, "I'll take Shawn!"
"I would refuse, but the rules won't allow me to do so," Shawn shrugged.
\
"Okay! We have our helpers!" Chris said as the scene flashed back to the two colored rugs; Izzy by the light red with Eva and Noah, Mal by the light blue with Shawn and Sky. "Now, Izzy and Mal, you have to stay on your mats and direct your helpers to bring you logs, driftwood,and pineapples that resemble parts of your opponent. And to make things a little more rhymey~!" He added with an excited smile as the all-to-familiar dings sounded and the musical note icon appeared on-screen.
///\
[A reverent, almost chanted riff opened as Sky and Shawn looked up and back, and the colors of the scene shifted to something more animated: the two in blue, against a background of reddish-pink flowers. The shot changed so that it seemed to be looking up at a blue volcano as it erupted against the floral background, and a blue and almost larger-than-life Mal emerged from its peak and with a laurel wreath on his head.]
"Hey peons, you should head straight! Don't ask, it'll make me ache!"
[He sang commandingly as a hip-hop tune began; holding out his arm as if to catch something before an almost cartoonish thunderbolt appeared in his hands. He threw it, and the camera followed it down to Shawn and Sky. They were forced to flee before the bolt struck where they'd been loitering along the ground.]
"You two, get me; wood shaped, like Izzy's tiny fe~et!"
[His helpers ran to a titanic pile of neatly-stacked blue logs, and the shot cut back to Mal idly examining his fingernails before turning to his helpers and smirking as he finished the line. The shot panned to the right to a red volcano as it, too, erupted; a red Izzy emerged from it, also wearing a laurel wreath.]
"Come on, come on, move it fast! Hurry, hurry, won't be last!
[She sang as another cartoonish thunderbolt appeared in her hands, casting her opponent a disparaging glance then throwing the bolt over her head down at the red Noah and Eva below. They too were forced to flee before the bolt struck where they'd been loitering.]
"Find wood that looks like him, so pencil-like and sli~im!"
[The camera continued to follow Eva and Noah as they ran past Sky, who was securing a rope to a peg on the side of a large hunk of wood. She briefly turned her head to watch them, then turned back and tugged the rope extending up off-screen.]
"I'm gonna win it (Yeah!) And you can't take it (No!) I'm right here in it (Yeah!) But you just fake it! (Oh!)"
[The two finalists sang, together even with the chanted words in the background. As they dueled the shot moved from Mal, his hands alternately throwing lightning bolts at his helpers, to Scarlett, throwing only one bolt, to both as they turned to one another and sent their god-like abilities at each other, resulting in an explosion of purple smoke that took over the scene.]
"Are these legs thin enough?"
[Eva called out, the smoke dissipating into her close-up before the shot zoomed out to show her standing on a pale gray scaffold next to another large chunk of wood suspended by a rope tied to a peg.
"Uh-huh!" Izzy replied from off-screen.
"H~ey!" Mal sang, the camera panning up to a higher level of the scaffold where Shawn was standing next to a rather thin piece of wood, also suspended point-down on a rope.
"Man, is this neck squeezed enough?" he asked, receiving a red thunderbolt for his trouble.]
"Whoo! Now it's psycho versus insane; Mal and Izzy cause some pain and!"
[The purple smoke cleared to show Shawn in his Drama Brothers outfit and a mic in his hand; the beat changed slightly as he began to rap from a small pillar of rock between the two finalists. The camera rotated about him as he gestured over his shoulder first at the finalists.]
"All this tension for the million; to that I have no opinion!"
[The camera zoomed in as he smirked and threw a dollar bill in the air, then zoomed back out as he got in front of Izzy, who threw a thunderbolt at him.]
"That is good, hurry back; I need arms weak and slack!"
[Mal continued in a commanding tone as Shawn, now riding atop another cone-like piece of wood as it was carried along by the attached rope, met up with Sky who was in a similar position and the shot cut back to Mal.]
"Her butt is su-per flat; And don't forget that!"
[Mal sang. He then turned to Izzy and shot her a mocking smile.]
"Get me two stringy knees; and hands like flat cheese!"
[Izzy responded, throwing another thunderbolt at her two tiny followers. Eva quickly ran away but Noah stayed in place and looked at her.]
"One more thing should be said; Don't forget his big head!"
[She pointed to a pile of giant red pineapples. Noah nodded then ran off.]
"I'm gonna win it (Yeah!) And you can't take it (No!) I'm right here in it (Yeah!) But you just fake it! (Oh!)"
[The two finalists repeated, once again sending their lightning towards their respective helpers before turning their god-like powers on each other.]
"All of this hard work; won't make me go berserk!"
[Eva sang, the smoke dissipating to show her on the scaffold once more next to a long and surprisingly arm-like piece of wood. The shot zoomed out to show it already affixed to her team's effigy – currently a long piece for the chest, a slightly bulkier piece for the waist, and two skinny legs; all pieces were connected by the shorter wooden pegs the ropes had been tied to. On the other side of the scaffold was the effigy Mal's team had created – two small, thin pieces for the chest and waist, two thin arms and a somewhat curvy leg; the effigy was kept upright by a rope tied around the short peg where the neck would be.]
"Now place the head right there; Pineapple, not pe~ar!"
[Izzy told her, looking down before the shot cut to Noah trying to push a massive red pineapple across the ground.]
"I'm gonna win it (Yeah!) And you can't take it (No!) I'm right here in it (Yeah!) But you just fake it! (Oh!)"
[The finalists repeated a third time, sending their lightning towards their helpers at a slightly faster pace than before. And still, they ended up turning their god-like powers towards one another to cause another purple explosion.]
"I'm gonna cash it! (Yeah!) You'll never win it! (No!) You should trash it! (Yeah!)"
[They continued as the smoke dissipated to reveal Eva and Noah carrying their red pineapple, before gaping in shock as Sky managed to slot her team's head down in its proper place.]
"'Cause I just did i~it!"
[Mal sang triumphantly, the shot pulling back to show Sky sighing in relief, Shawn on the other side wiping the sweat from his face. The scene finally cut to reality as the song ended, Mal smiling smugly with Sky and Shawn beside him, the two of them not looking at all enthusiastic.]
///
"And Mal takes the lead!" Chris announced over a shot of Izzy squinting at her opponent. "Next step, haul your sacrifice to the top of Kilauea and toss her into the volcano, like so!"
The shot quick-panned away from the host all the way up to the crater where a person in a hazmat suit tossed a crash test dummy into the magma below. This, however, caused molten rock to splash back up, partially coating the person in the hazmat suit. They screamed in pain as fire engulfed them, and ran away scorched.
"Yeah," Chris said as the shot cut back to him, "watch out for the back-splash. We'll be right back with all the hardcore lava-riffic sizzling finale action," he told the camera, "here! On Total! Drama! World Tour!"
\
(Commercial Break)
\

I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X

I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X

I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X

The apartment was cheap, but not suspiciously so, especially given the relatively decrepit state of it. It was a 1 bedroom affair, the building itself constructed at some point before the Great Depression, and it certainly showed its age. The bathroom was prone to mold, the windows let in a draft even when closed, and the fact that it was up 6 flights of stairs in a building where the elevator seemed perpetually out of order certainly didn't help. However, beyond these usual allowances made for an affordable apartment in a city such as mine, there were no outward signs that anything wrong with the place. There were never any strange noises, unusual cold spots in the center of rooms, no eerie lights. For all intents and purposes, the apartment appeared utterly mundane.
It took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to notice the door. 7 months in fact. I've never been much of a night owl, and on the rare occasions when I did have reason to be up in the wee hours my time was generally spent in someone else's bedroom.
At first, when I noticed the door, I assumed that I was hallucinating. I was, after all, in a fairly inebriated state, having just returned from a rather pleasant evening of laughter and debauchery. I already had experienced considerable difficulty in extricating my key from my apartment's lock, so I figured it was more likely that something had gone wrong with my perception rather than the unlikely scenario that a wood paneled door had suddenly materialized in my living room where previously there had only been wall.
It was old fashioned looking, with a shiny brass knob and wood the color of old leather. I shook my head for a moment and blinked, squinting at the object. The door was still there. I rubbed my eyes and closed them, counting down from 10. When I'd finished, I opened my eyes again. The door was still there. I'm not exactly sure what I thought counting down from 10 was supposed to accomplish. Beyond one mercifully brief experience with salvia at a very bad party, I'd never experienced hallucinations before, so I was sort of going off of what I'd seen in movies and TV shows.
There was something intensely unnerving about the door. It emanated a feeling of primal wrongness, I instinctually knew that I was gazing at something totally in violation of the natural order. It took a lot of willpower to do what I did next.
Having exhausted all other apparent options to my disorganized mind, I moved on to the next logical stage of inquiry; I tried to open it. The doorknob was cold to the touch, arctic even. It felt like touching the inside of a freezer. A shiver ran down my back, though I can't be sure in retrospect if it was entirely from the temperature. I tried to turn the knob. It didn't budge.
An immense sigh of relief escaped my lungs, releasing a breath that I didn't know I was holding in. Trying to think of what else I could do, I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick photo of the thing, sending it to my landlord, with a caption somewhere along the lines of "wtf is this dude, y is there a new door???"
Nodding sagely to myself, as if I had succeeded in doing anything of note, I stumbled my way into my bedroom and locked the door before falling into blissful slumber.
I awoke to the incessant screeching of my alarm clock loudly informing me that it was 7 o' clock, about 6 hours from when I had fallen asleep. I slammed my fist against "off" button and rubbed the sleep from my eyes with my other hand. In following with my usual morning routine, I then pulled out my phone and checked through my notifications.
Alongside the usual torrent of internet pseudo-acquaintances posting pictures of their brunches and whatnot was a text message from my landlord. "What are you talking about Christina", it read, "is this photoshop or something?"
At first, I didn't understand what he was referring to, but when the rusted gears of my sleepy (and hungover) brain finally started turning, I immediately jumped out of bed and scuttled over to the spot where the door had been just 6 hours prior. I did so with the intent of recording a video to further prove its existence to my skeptical landlord... but I was greeted with nothing but wall.
I texted my landlord an apology, lying and saying it was just a poorly thought out prank. Then I popped into my car and drove down to the local electronics store to purchase a camera from the grumpy underpaid college student behind the register.
Making my way over to the photography section, I searched a long while for the option that simultaneously fit my budget and the requirements for my investigation. Eventually, I found just the item.
It was a trailcam, the sort of thing hunters and geriatrics with too many acres of land and not enough hobbies use to observe wildlife. It had an SD card with enough space for several hours of blurry, black and white nightvision video, and most importantly it was cheap. I paid for my prize with the surly cashier and made my way happily back to my apartment.
I set it up securely in front of where the door had previously appeared, and, feeling like a genius, went about the rest of my day. I fell asleep that night secure in the knowledge that by morning I would have proof of what I had seen the night before.
The next morning, I rushed over excitedly to my living room, feeling like a child on Christmas morning. My giddy excitement died as I stepped into the living room, noticing the complete lack of the trailcam. Old Saint Nick appeared to have shit in my stocking.
I made my way back to the electronics store, forced once again into interacting with the student behind the register for whom my very existence seemed to be an inconvenience. Upon noticing my arrival, he sighed heavily. "Can I help you ma'am?" he said, emphasizing the last word with the same inflection one might say intestinal parasite.
"I'm looking for a cheap camera that will stream video directly to my computer." I said, trying my best to avoid mimicking the man's petulant tone.
Shrugging his shoulders and releasing another drawn out sigh, the cashier shuffled his way over to the photography section and picked out a small camera, rather similar to the last one I purchased, but approximately twice as much in terms of cost. "Do you have anything cheaper?" I asked, trying my best to sound polite.
"No." declared the cashier, with all the compassion of an exterminator crushing a cockroach beneath a steel toed boot.
I ended up paying the exorbitant price on my already abused credit card, and grumpily stalked back to the apartment to set up the new equipment, knowing I wouldn't get to see it after the night was over.
Nevertheless, I had to know how the door got there, and I needed to have irrefutable evidence.
The process to set up the new camera was a bit more involved than the last. There was all manner of fiddling about with connecting the device to my WiFi network and installing some new software to my computer, but by the time it was over it successfully uploaded footage directly to my hard drive where I could watch it at my leisure.
I went to bed that night wondering what I would do with the footage after I acquired it. After all, I couldn't really go to the police with it, could I? Excuse me officer, I imagined myself saying, but a mysterious door appears in my apartment at night, and I was wondering if you could send someone around to take a look? I'd end up institutionalized. Similarly, it's not like I could go to the newspapers either. I live in a big city, and the reporters have more important fish to fry than transient doors.
At some point while I pondered my options, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I was awakened by the banshee cries of my alarm clock, angrily informing me that it was once again 7 o' clock.
I jumped out of bed, excitedly moving over to my computer to check the footage, finding that there was about 5 hours of video. I had turned on the camera at around 10 o' clock PM, so that meant whatever happened to the camera occurred at about 3 AM.
I set the video to fast forward and watched it carefully. The first 2 hours or so showed nothing, just the regular blank wall. At exactly 12 o' clock, however, static engulfed the screen, and suddenly the old wooden door simply appeared, as if it had always been there. I rewound the footage and played it at normal speed, trying to discern anything that would show how the door suddenly manifested in the wall of my apartment, but the static was far too heavy to tell. The video simply got incredibly distorted for around 10 seconds, and suddenly the static dissipated and there was the door.
Even on video, just looking at it gave me the chills. That sense of complete and utter wrongness came through even from the screen. I shivered slightly and set the video on fast forward yet again. There was no change in the door for nearly 3 hours, but as the video crept closer and closer to the end, I switched it back to normal speed with about a minute to spare.
As I watched, the door began to slowly open. There was no microphone built into the camera, but I could imagine the ancient hinges creaking. I could feel my palms begin to sweat as I stared, transfixed. I glanced at the time remaining on the video, it was only around 30 seconds.
As the video progressed onwards, the door eventually swung fully open, revealing a black, yawning void beyond it. Static began to gather at the corners of the screen, increasing in intensity as I vaguely discerned something moving in the darkness. The quality was rapidly degrading, and I couldn't tell any specifics, but it moved in an almost spider-like manner, skittery and deeply unnerving. It seemed just about to come into view when the footage fully dissolved into static and the video ended abruptly.
I leaned back in my chair, contemplating my next move. While the video had certainly convinced me that I wasn't just going crazy, I knew that it wouldn't exactly convince the average person. I could easily have added in the static with editing, and the vague movement behind the door could just be computer generated effects or some sort of puppet. After a few minutes of pondering, I came up with an idea.
---
"I'm sorry, what?" exclaimed Lilith, who was trying hard not to choke on her iced coffee.
"A door. It appears in my apartment at exactly midnight. I have it on video", I replied, sliding my phone across the table of the coffee shop.
I first met Lilith in college, where we shared a course on the history of Gothic literature. She was a perfect picture of the stereotypical goth, with pierced septum, dyed black hair, pentacle earrings, and a wardrobe whose diversity of color could charitably be compared to that of a raven. We hadn't spoken in a long time, but I figured if there was anyone I should contact about this sort of thing, it would be her.
I'd condensed the 5 hours of footage down to a few minutes with the help of a free online video editor, and watched in slight amusement as Lilith's brow furrowed, her eyes glued to the screen. After the video ended, she seemed utterly amazed.
"Any thoughts?" I asked, pulling back my phone.
"This is some sort of joke, right? You're screwing with me?" she asked, utterly bewildered by what I had just shown her.
"No joke. No screwing around. I figured you'd be the one to ask about this, because of the whole, you know..." I said, gesturing at the leviathan cross emblazoned on her black t-shirt.
Lilith rolled her eyes at me and fidgeted nervously with one of her bracelets. "I'm not sure Christina, this seems a little bit outside of my pay grade. I don't really know what you expect me to do."
"I just need a witness of some kind. What I've got here isn't really enough to prove anything on its own, but if someone else sees it that might lend me a bit of credibility. If some random chick goes to the news complaining about a mysterious door appearing in her living room at midnight that's nothing, but if I get a witness then they might have to listen to me. Plus, I figured maybe you could, I don't know, set up some form of protective circle or sigil or something." As soon as the last words left my lips, I felt like a moron, but Lilith actually seemed to perk up a little bit.
"I mean, I guess that makes sense. How about tonight? I can come over at about 11 o' clock so we have a little bit of time to get ready", she said, a tinge of excitement in her voice.
"Sound's like a plan then, I'll text you my address. I really appreciate you doing this for me." We got up from the booth, exchanged hugs, and went our separate ways. I was skeptical about how much good Lilith's "magickal" expertise would do with regard to the unearthly door, but I had mainly mentioned it to get her interested.
I wish I hadn't.
---
About 12 hours later, I heard a knock at the door (my front door, in this case, not the impossible one). I peeked through the peephole, saw it was Lilith, and I ushered her inside. She had brought with her a black leather bag, bulging with various books, candles, jars, and other occult accoutrements.
"That's a lot of stuff", I commented, gesturing towards the bag, "are you sure you'll need all of it?"
She shrugged. "I figured it's better to be safe than sorry. I'd rather be overprepared than come up short."
"Seems reasonable."
I showed her the spot of the blank wall where the door appears and she began setting up candles and incense, drawing strange signs with chalk, and pouring salt in a semi-circle in front of where the door would be. As she worked, she occasionally read out loud from some cheap paperbacks with titles like "The Witch's Bible" and "The Unquiet Dead: A Field Guide to the Afterlife".
To be entirely honest it was incredibly underwhelming. I didn't feel any "mystical energies" or unseen vistas of space and time yawning before me. There was just a goth screwing around with some candles while reciting mangled Latin out of books she got for 4.99 apiece at a charity shop.
Nevertheless, I let Lilith get on with her business and sat back drinking some cheap beer. After about 45 minutes she seemed satisfied. The floor and walls were covered with crude sigils done in white chalk, and the whole room smelt of incense and scented candles. I checked my watch, seeing it was 11:48.
I offered Lilith a drink but she declined, instead just taking a seat and fidgeting a bit with her jewelry. We talked for a while about what the door could be, where it came from, that sort of thing. Lilith seemed convinced it was must be the restless spirit of a former tenant, but I was a bit skeptical. While at this point I could no longer honestly say I didn't believe in the supernatural, this didn't necessarily strike me as some sort of haunting.
"I don't think it's a ghost", I said, taking a sip from my near empty can, "it strikes me as something further beyond our realm of experience than that. Something, I don't know, alien somehow. I mean it changes reality itself doesn't it? It transmutes a wall to a door, and let me tell you that door was real wood and the knob was real metal. Aren't ghosts supposed to be intangible or something?"
Lilith seemed like she was about to say something before she paused, a weird look crossing her face. "Christina, what time is it?" she whispered.
I checked my watch, the digital face reading out 12:07. I turned to see the door. It had been there for 7 minutes and we hadn't even noticed its arrival. Something about us not having realized it was there bothered me far more than its materialization. Was it possible that I'd passed by it in the apartment before and just never noticed it? I'd previously assumed that I'd simply always been asleep or out of the apartment when it materialized, but now I wasn't so sure.
Lilith had turned to look at it too, after a moment saying "It's like it's always been there."
The next 3 hours passed slowly, painfully. We snapped plenty of pictures of the door at every conceivable angle on our respective phones, videos too, and decided that after it disappeared again we should take footage of the bare wall for contrast. Lilith and I chatted a bit, but it was hard to continue conversations for long. Now that we had noticed it, we could feel the wrongness emanating out from the door, as if we were being watched by something just out of sight.
I don't know if there is such a thing as true evil, some sort of absolute moral right and wrong on a spiritual level. But being near that door, I felt like I was bearing witness to an atrocity against reality itself. We spent the last 2 hours of observation in nearly complete silence. It seemed like the longer we were cognizant of the door, the worse the feeling of discomfort got. If you've ever been on a roller coaster, you'll be familiar with the feeling of going up the track towards a long drop, the tension in your very blood as you brace yourself for the fall to come. As we sat there, I felt something similar.
I almost wanted to call the whole thing off, just have Lilith and I go to a 24 hour fast food place or something and call it a night. But I had to know.
Unlike with the door's appearance, we noticed when it started to open. We sat there, paralyzed with fear and excitement as it slowly started to creak open, the worn hinges squealing just as I thought they would. The room grew significantly colder, until we were both shivering intensely. Behind the door was void, absolutely void. It was black as the depths of the ocean and emanated pure dread. The smell of incense and scented candles seemed to dissipate, replaced with a vague stench like rotting seaweed.
Finally, the entrance was swung fully open, and we sat there, staring blankly into it. We didn't even try to pull out our phones to record what we saw. The thought to do so didn't cross my mind until well after.
I could see something start to move in the darkness beyond, some sort of motion, spidery, skittering. It was coming towards us. I caught a vague glimpse of a long, thin limb reaching out from the door, coming towards us, grasping blindly from out of the dark, and then-
I felt the sun shining on my face, my entire body sore.
I opened my eyes to find myself lying on the ground, outside. There were trees overhead, but the foliage wasn't dense enough to block out the light which had awoken me. All things being equal, I would have preferred my alarm clock.
I stood up, painfully, taking stock of my surroundings. I was in a park, one which I had been to before, located a couple miles from my apartment. I looked for my phone, but couldn't find it. I began to stumble my way back home, trying my best to ignore my aching muscles. I called out for Lilith a couple times, but was met only with silence. She was gone.
As I limped my way along, a passing jogger called out "Nice tattoo". Confused, I looked down at my arm.
Burned into my flesh in white letters, as if through frostbite, were the words "BRING MORE".

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Memory HD/MA $4
Men HD/VU $4.5
Men in Black 3 HD/MA $3
Men in Black HD/MA $4
Menu HD/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $4
MIB International HD/MA $3.5
Mickey & Minnie 10 Classic Shorts HD/MA $5.5 or HD/GP $5
Mid-Century 4K/VU $5
Midsommar HD/VU $4
Miracle on 34th Street (1947) HD/MA $4
Missing (2023) SD/MA $4
Mitchells vs Machines HD/MA $4.5
Mommy HD/VU $4
Moonfall 4K/VU $4.5
Morbius HD/MA $4
Moving On HD/VU $5.5
Mrs Harris Goes to Paris 4K/MA $6
My Brilliant Friend Season 1 HD/VU $4
Nashville (1975) HD/VU $4
Needle in a Timestack 4K/VU $5.5
Night at Museum Battle of Smithsonian SD/IT $1.5
Night House HD/GP $4
No Country for Old Men HD/VU $4
No Sudden Move 4K/MA $6
Nope HD/MA $5.5
Northman HD/MA $4
Oliver! 4K/MA $5
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood HD/MA $3.5
Paradise Highway 4K/VU $5.5
Paranormal Activity 1-8 Collection HD/VU $22
Paranormal Activity Ghost Dimension (Unrated) HD/VU $4.5
Parasite HD/MA $4
Paul Blart Mall Cop 2 HD/MA $3.5
Paw Patrol Movie HD/VU $4.5
Percy Jackson Sea of Monsters HD/MA $3
Perfectos Desconocidos HD/VU $4
Phantom Thread HD/MA $4
Piano (1993) HD/VU $4.5
Plane (2023) 4K/VU $6.5
Pretty in Pink HD/VU $3.5
Prey for Devil 4K/VU $6
Prince of Egypt HD/MA $4.5
Proud Mary HD/MA $3.5
Pulp Fiction 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Push 4K/VU $6
Raid Redemption (Thea & Unrated) HD/MA $4.5
Ran (1985) 4K/VU $5.5
Ratatouille 4K/MA $6 or HD/GP $4
Red Heat (1988) 4K/VU $5
Redline (2010) HD/VU $4.5
Reign of Assassins HD/VU $4.5
Repo Genetic Opera HD/VU $4.5
Rescuers Down Under HD/MA $5 or HD/GP $4.5
Rescuers HD/MA $5 or HD/GP $4.5
Reservoir Dogs 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Resident Evil 6 Film Set 4K/MA $26
Retaliation (2017) HD/VU $4
Right One 4K/VU $5.5
Rocky Knockout Collection 1-4 (Rocky IV w/ Thea & Rocky vs Drago Ultimate Cut) 4K/VU $20
Rules of Attraction HD/VU $4
Rumble HD/VU $5
Running Man 4K/VU $5.5
Safe Haven SD/IT $1.5
Saint Maud HD/VU $4.5
Sausage Party HD/MA $3.5
Scott Pilgrim vs World HD/MA $4 or 4K/IT $4.5
Scream 4 HD/VU $4
Scream HD/VU $4.5
Secret Garden (2020) 4K/IT $5
Secret in Their Eyes HD/VU or IT $3
Sense & Sensibility 4K/MA $5
Seven Psycopaths HD/MA $4
Shawshank Redemption 4K/MA $5.5
Shazam! Fury of Gods (2023) HD/MA $9
She Said HD/MA $6.5
Shooter 4K/VU $5
Silent Night, Deadly Night 3-Film Set (3-5) HD/VU $8
Silent Twins 4K/MA $6
Silk Road 4K/VU $5
Sing 2 HD/MA $4
Sing Street HD/VU $4
Skeleton Twins HD/VU $4.5
Smile HD/VU $5.5
Smokin' Aces 4K/MA $5.5
Snake Eyes G.I. Joe Origins 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Son of God HD/MA $3
Sonic Hedgehog 2 HD/VU $4.5
Source Code 4K/VU $5.5
Spartacus HD/MA $3.5
Spider-Man No Way Home HD/MA $4
Spinning Man HD/VU $4
Spirit HD/VU $4
Spontaneous HD/VU $4.5
Starship Troopers 4K/MA $6
Strange World HD/GP $4
Stripes 4K/MA $5
Taken 2 HD/MA $3.5
Tangled HD/MA $4
Tar HD/MA $6
Teen Spirit (2019) HD/MA $4
Teen Titans Go! & DC Super Hero Girls Mayhem Multiverse HD/MA $6
Teeth HD/VU $4.5
Ten Commandments (1923) HD/VU $4
Ten Commandments (1956) HD/VU $4
Tetro HD/VU $4
The Batman HD/MA $4
Thing (1982) 4K/MA $5.5
This Means War SD/IT $1.5
Thor Love & Thunder 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/GP $3.5
Till 4K/IT $7
Time Freak HD/VU $4
To Sir With Love 4K/MA $5.5
Tomb Raider Cradle of Life 4K/VU or IT $5.5
Top Gun Maverick 4K/VU $6 or HD/VU $4.5
Touched With Fire HD/VU $4.5
Town SD/IT $1.5
Transformers Dark of Moon 4K/VU $4.5
Transformers Revenge of Fallen 4K/VU $5
True Grit SD/IT $1.5
Tucker Man & His Dream 4K/VU $5
Turning Red HD/GP $3
Twilight 1-3 (Ext Editions) HD/VU $10
Umma HD/MA $4.5
Uncharted HD/MA $4
Uncut Gems HD/VU $4
Underwater HD/MA $4.5
Underworld 5-Film Set HD/MA $17
Venom Let There Be Carnage HD/MA $4
Virtuoso 4K/VU $5
Vivo HD/MA $4.5
Voyagars 4K/VU $5
W. HD/VU $4
War of Worlds 4K/VU $5.5
War on Everyone HD/VU $4
Warhunt 4K/VU $4.5
Waterworld HD/MA $4
Weekend HD/VU $4
What We Did on our Holiday HD/VU $4
Where Crawdads Sing HD/MA $4.5
Whiplash HD/MA $4
White Christmas HD/VU $4
Whitney Houston I Wanna Dance with Sombody HD/MA $5.5 or SD/MA $3
Wicker Man (1973) HD/VU $4.5
Wind River HD/VU $4
Winnie Pooh Springtime with Roo HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Wolf Man (1941) HD/MA $3.5
Woman King HD/MA $5.5
Women Talking 4K/IT $7
X-Men Days of Future Past Rogue Cut 4K/IT $5.5
All other movies (A-Z)
101 Dalmatians HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
12 Years a Slave HD/MA $3.5
13 Hours Soldiers of Benghazi HD/VU $2.5
1917 HD/MA $3.5
2 Fast 2 Furious 4K/IT $3.5
2 Guns HD/VU or IT $2.5
21 Jump Street HD/MA $3
22 Jump Street HD/MA $3.5
3 From Hell (Unrated) 4K/VU $4 or HD/VU $2.5
31 (2016) HD/VU $2.5
310 to Yuma 4K/VU $5
47 Meters Down HD/IT $3.5
47 Meters Down Uncaged HD/VU $3.5
47 Ronin HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
50/50 HD/VU $4
71 HD/VU $4
A Clockwork Orange 4K/MA $5
A Dog's Purpose HD/IT $3
A Good Day to Die Hard (Ext) HD/VU $2.5
A Most Wanted Man HD/VU $3.5
A Quiet Place HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
A Quiet Place Part 2 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
A Wrinkle in Time HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Abominable 4K/MA $5.5
About Time HD/VU or IT $3.5
Action Point HD/IT $2
Adore HD/IT $3.5
Adventures Of TinTin HD/IT $2.5
After Earth HD/MA $3
Age of Adaline HD/VU or IT $3
Aladdin (2019) 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Alex Cross HD/VU or IT $2
Alfred Hitchcock 5-Film Set (Saboteur, Shadow of Doubt, Trouble with Harry, Marnie, Family Plot) 4K/MA $24
Alice Through Looking Glass HD/GP $3
Alien 6-Film Collection HD/MA $18
Alien Covenant HD/MA $2.5
Alien Resurrection HD/MA $4
Alita Battle Angel 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
All Eyez on Me HD/IT $3
All Money in World HD/MA $3.5
Allied HD/VU $3.5
Aloha HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1
Alvin & Chipmunks Road Chip HD/MA $2.5
Amazing Spider-Man 2 HD/MA $4
Amazing Spider-Man HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1.5
American Assassin 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
American Frontier Trilogy (Sicario, Wind River, Hell or High Water) HD/VU $7.5
American Made 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
American Night HD/VU $4
American Reunion HD/VU or IT $3
American Ultra HD/IT $4
Anchorman 2 Legend Continues HD/VU or IT $2.5
Angel Heart 4K/VU $5.5
Angel of Mine 4K/VU $5.5
Anna 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Anna Karenina HD/IT $3.5
Annie (2014) HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1.5
Annihilation HD/VU $3
Antebellum 4K/VU $5
Ant-Man & Wasp HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Ant-Man HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Apollo 13 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Arctic HD/MA $4
Army of One HD/VU $3
Arnold Schwarzenegger 6-Film Collection (Last Stand, Total Recall, T-2, Red Heat, Maggie, Hercules in NY) HD/VU $14
Arrival HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Ash vs Evil Dead Season 3 HD/VU $5
Assassination Nation HD/MA $3.5
Assassin's Creed HD/MA $3
Atomic Blonde 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3
August Osage County HD/VU $3
Avengers Age of Ultron HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Avengers Endgame HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Avengers HD/GP $3
Avengers Infinity War HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Back to Future 3 HD/MA $3.5
Back to Future Trilogy 4K/MA $14 or HD/MA $9.5
Bad Boys for Life HD/MA $4
Bad Grandpa HD/VU or IT $2.5
Bad Words HD/IT $3
Bambi 2 HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Bambi HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Bangkok Dangerous HD/VU $4
Bank Job HD/VU $3.5
Barbie & Her Sisters in Great Puppy Adventure HD/VU or IT $3.5
Barbie in Princess Power HD/IT $3.5
Barbie Star Light Adventure HD/IT $3.5
Battle of Year HD/MA $3.5
Battleship HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Baywatch HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Beatriz at Dinner HD/VU $4.5
Beauty & Beast (1991) HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Beauty & Beast (2017) HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Before I Fall HD/VU or IT $3.5
Begin Again HD/VU $3.5
Beirut HD/MA $3.5
Ben-Hur (2016) HD/VU or IT $3.5
BFG HD/MA $3.5
Big Eyes HD/VU $3.5
Big Hero 6 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Big Lebowski 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Big Little Lies Season 1 HD/GP $2.5
Big Short HD/VU or IT $3.5
Birth of a Nation HD/MA $3.5
Black Panther 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Black Widow HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Blackhat HD/IT $3.5
Blair Witch (2016) HD/IT $2.5
Blair Witch Project (1999) HD/VU $4
Blockers HD/MA $3.5
Bloodshot HD/MA $4
Boardwalk Empire Season 1 HD/VU or IT $4
Bombshell 4K/VU $5
Book Club 4K/IT $3
Book Club HD/VU $2.5
Book of Life HD/MA $3.5
Born a Champion 4K/VU $5
Boss Baby 2-Film Set HD/MA $6
Boss Baby HD/MA $2.5
Bourne Identity HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Bourne Legacy HD/VU $2
Bourne Supremacy HD/VU $3.5
Bourne Ultimatum 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Boy 2 HD/IT $3.5
Boy Erased HD/MA $4
Boy HD/IT $3.5
Boyhood HD/VU or IT $2.5
Braveheart HD/VU $3.5
Braven HD/VU $4
Breakfast Club HD/IT $4
Breakthrough HD/MA $3
Burnt HD/VU $3.5
Butler HD/VU $3
Bye Bye Man (Unrated) HD/IT $2.5
Cabin in Woods 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $2.5
Call of Wild 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Campaign HD/MA $2.5
Captain America Civil War HD/GP $2.5
Captain America First Avenger HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5 or SD/IT $1.5
Captain America Winter Soldier HD/GP $3.5
Captain Marvel HD/GP $2
Captain Phillips HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1.5
Carol HD/VU $4
Cars 3 HD/GP $2.5
Case for Christ HD/IT $2.5
Chaos Walking 4K/VU $5
Chicago (Diamond Edition) HD/VU $4
Children (2008) HD/VU $4
Christopher Robin HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Cloverfield 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Coco HD/GP $2.5
Cold Pursuit 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Collection HD/VU $3.5
Columbiana (Unrated) HD/MA $4
Come & Find Me HD/VU $4
Commuter 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Company of Heroes HD/MA $4
Contraband HD/IT $3
Cooties HD/VU $4
Cornetto Trilogy (Shaun of Dead, Hot Fuzz, World's End) 4K/MA $15
Counselor HD/MA $4
Courier 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Crank 4K/VU $5.5
Crawl HD/VU $3
Crimson Peak HD/IT $3.5
Croods HD/VU $3.5
Cruella HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
D Train 4K/IT $4
Daddy's Home 2 HD/IT $3
Daddy's Home HD/VU $3
Dark Tower HD/MA $3.5
Darkest Hour (2017) 4K/MA $5.5
Darkest Minds HD/MA $4
Darkness HD/IT $3
Dawn of Planet of Apes HD/MA $3.5
Daybreakers 4K/VU $5.5
Deadpool 2 (w/Super Duper Cut) HD/MA $4
Deadpool HD/MA $2.5
Dear White People HD/VU $3.5
Deepwater Horizon 4K/IT $3
Dementia 13 (Director's Cut) HD/VU $4
Despicable Me 2 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Despicable Me 3 4K/MA or IT $5
Despicable Me 4K/IT $5 or SD/IT $1.5
Detroit HD/MA $3.5
Devil's Due HD/MA $3.5
Dilemma HD/VU $3.5 or SD/IT $1.5
Dirty Dancing 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Disney Animated Short Films Collection HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Divergent Allegiant HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Divergent HD/VU $1.5 or 4K/IT $2 or SD/VU $0.5
Divergent Insurgent HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Django Unchained HD/VU $3 or SD/IT $1.5
Do Right Thing 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Doctor Strange HD/GP $2.5
Dom Hemingway HD/MA $3.5
Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot HD/VU $4
Doom (Unrated) 4K/MA $5.5
Doorman HD/VU $3.5
Doors 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Dora & Lost City of Gold HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Downton Abbey Movie HD/MA $3.5
Dracula Untold HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Draft Day HD/VU $3.5
Dragged Across Concrete HD/VU $3.5
Dreamkatcher HD/VU $4
Dredd 4K/VU or IT $4 or HD/VU $2.5
Duel (2016) HD/VU $3.5
Dumbo (2019) HD/GP $3
Dune 4K/MA $5.5
Dying of Light HD/VU $2.5
E.T. Extra Terrestrial 4K/VU or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Edge of Seventeen HD/VU or IT $3
Edge of Tomorrow 4K/MA $5
Edward Scissorhands HD/MA $3.5
El Chicano HD/MA $4
Emoji Movie HD/MA $3
Encanto 4K/MA $4 or 4K/GP $3.5
Ender's Game HD/VU $2.5
Enemy at Gates HD/VU $4
Enough Said HD/MA $3.5
Epic HD/MA $3
Escape Plan HD/VU $2
Eternals HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Everest 4K/MA or IT $4.5
Ex Machina HD/VU $3
Exodus Gods & Kings HD/MA $3.5
Expendables 2 HD/VU or IT $1
Expendables 3 (Thea) HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
Extreme Prejudice (1987) HD/VU $4
Fast & Furious (2009) HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Fast & Furious 6 (Ext) HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
Fast & Furious 6-film Collection HD/VU $12.5
Fast & Furious 7-film Collection HD/VU $14
Fast & Furious 8-film Collection (9 Films) HD/MA $17.5
Fast & Furious 9-film Collection (11 Films) HD/MA $20
Fast & Furious HD/VU $3.5
Fast Color 4K/VU $5.5
Fast Five (Ext) HD/IT $2.5 or SD/IT $1
Fatale (2020) 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Fate of Furious (Ext) HD/VU $2
Fate of Furious (Thea) HD/VU or IT $1.5
Fault in Our Stars HD/MA $3.5
Fences HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Ferdinand HD/MA $3.5
Fifty Shades Darker (Unrated) HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Fifty Shades Freed HD/MA $4
Fifty Shades of Grey (Unrated) HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Fighting with my Family HD/IT $4
Finding Dory HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Finding Nemo HD/GP $3.5
Finest Hours HD/GP $3
First Blood 4K/VU $5
First Man HD/MA $4
Flight HD/VU or IT $3
Florence Foster Jenkins HD/VU or IT $3
Footloose (2011) HD/IT $3
Forever My Girl HD/IT $3
Fortress HD/VU $4
Four Kids & It HD/VU $3.5
Fox & Hound 2 HD/MA $4
Frank & Lola HD/VU or IT $3
Frankenstein (1931) HD/VU $3.5
Free Guy HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
French Dispatch HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Friday 13th Pt 3 HD/VU $3.5
Frozen (Sing-Along Edition) HD/MA $2 or HD/GP $1.5
Frozen 2 4K/MA $4 or HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Frozen Ground (2013) HD/VU $3.5
Frozen HD/GP $2
Furious 7 (Ext) HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
Fury HD/MA $3.5
G.I. Joe Retaliation HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Gambit (2012) HD/MA $4
Gambler HD/VU or IT $3
Gemini Man 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Gentlemen 4K/IT $4.5
Get Out HD/MA $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Ghost in Shell (2017) 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Ghost Team One HD/VU or IT $3.5
Ghostbusters (1984) HD/MA $3.5
Ghostbusters 2 HD/MA $3.5
Ghostbusters Afterlife HD/MA $4
Girl on Train HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Girl With All Gifts HD/VU $4
Girls Trip HD/VU or IT $2
Glass Castle 4K/VU $5.5
God's Not Dead 2 HD/MA or IT $2.5
God's Not Dead A Light in Darkness HD/MA $3
Gods of Egypt HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Gold (2016) HD/VU or IT $2.5
Gone Girl HD/MA $4
Good Dinosaur HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Good Kill HD/VU or IT $3.5
Grace Unplugged HD/VU $2
Gran Torino SD/IT $1.5
Greatest Showman HD/MA $3.5
Green Mile 4K/MA $5.5
Grey HD/VU or IT $3
Guardians of Galaxy Vol 1 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Guardians of Galaxy Vol 2 HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Guest House (2020) 4K/VU $5
Guilt Trip HD/IT $3
Gunman HD/MA $3
Hacksaw Ridge HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Hail, Caesar! HD/IT $3
Halloween (2018) HD/MA $3
Hammer of Gods HD/VU $2
Hands of Stone HD/VU $3.5
Hannibal Season 1 HD/VU $5
Hard Target 2 HD/IT $1.5
Hardcore Henry HD/VU or IT $3.5
Hate U Give HD/MA $4
Hateful Eight HD/VU $3.5
Heat HD/MA $3
Heaven is for Real SD/MA $1.5
Hell Fest 4K/VU $5
Hell or High Water HD/VU $2.5
Hellboy (2019) 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Hercules (1997) HD/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $4
Hercules (2014) HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Here Comes Boom HD/MA $3.5
Hidden Figures HD/MA $3
Hillsong Let Hope Rise HD/IT $2
Hitman (Uncut) & Hitman 47 Bundle HD/MA $7
Hitman's Bodyguard HD/VU $3.5
Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4
Hocus Pocus HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Home Again HD/MA $3
Home Alone 2 HD/MA $3.5
Home Alone HD/MA $3.5
Homesman HD/VU $3
Honey 2 HD/VU $3
Hop HD/MA or IT $3
Hope Springs HD/MA $2.5 or SD/MA $1
Hostiles HD/VU $3
Hot Fuzz HD/VU $4
Hotel Mumbai HD/MA $4
Hotel Transylvania HD/MA $3.5
Hours (2013) HD/VU $4
How Grinch Stole Christmas (2000) 4K/IT $4
How to Train Your Dragon 2 HD/MA $2.5
How to Train Your Dragon HD/VU $3.5
How to Train Your Dragon Trilogy HD/MA $9
Hugo HD/VU or IT $3
Hunger Games 4-Film Collection HD/VU $8
Hunger Games Catching Fire HD/VU $1.5 or 4K/IT $2 or SD/VU $0.5
Hunger Games HD/VU $1.5 or 4K/IT $2 or SD/VU $0.5
Hunger Games Mockingjay Part 1 HD/VU $2.5 or SD/VU $1
Hunter Killer 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Huntsman Winter's War (Ext) HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
I Can Only Imagine HD/VU $4
I Feel Pretty HD/IT $2
I Frankenstein HD/VU or IT $2.5
Ice Age Collision Course HD/MA $3
Incredibles 2 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Incredibles HD/GP $3.5
Independence Day Resurgence HD/MA $2.5
Indiana Jones & Temple of Doom 4K/VU $5.5
Indignation HD/VU $4
Initiation 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Inside Out HD/GP $2
Instant Family 4K/IT $3.5
Internship SD/IT $1.5
Interstellar HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Into Woods HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Invisible Man (1933) HD/MA $3.5
Invisible Man (2020) 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Iron Man HD/GP $3.5 or HD/GP $2
Iron Mask (2019) HD/VU $4.5
It Follows HD/VU $3.5
It's a Wonderful Life 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Jack & Jill HD/MA $3.5
Jack Reacher HD/VU $3
Jack Reacher Never Go Back HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Jack Ryan Shadow Recruit HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Jacob's Ladder HD/VU $4
Jarhead 3 Siege (Unrated) HD/IT $2.5
Jason Bourne HD/VU $2.5
Jason Statham 4-Film (War, Crank 1 & 2, Transporter 3) HD/VU $10
Jason Statham 6-Film (War, Crank 1 & 2, Bank Job, Wild Card, Transporter 3) HD/VU $14
Jaws 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Jeff Who Lives at Home HD/VU $4
Jersey Boys HD/MA $2.5
Jesus Music HD/VU $3.5
Jigsaw 4K/VU $4.5
Joe HD/VU $3.5
John Wick 1 & 2 Bundle HD/VU $4
John Wick 3 Parabellum 4K/VU $4.5
John Wick Chapter 2 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
John Wick HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
John Wick Trilogy (Parabellum 4K) HD/VU $9
Jonah Hex HD/MA $4.5
Joy HD/MA $3
Judy 4K/VU $5
Judy Moody SD/IT $1.5
Jungle Book (2016) 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Jungle Cruise HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Jurassic Park 3 HD/VU $3.5
Jurassic Park 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Jurassic World 5-Film Collection HD/MA $14
Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Jurassic World HD/VU $2.5
Justice (2017) HD/VU or IT $3
Justin Bieber Never Say Never SD/IT $1.5
Kevin Hart Let Me Explain HD/VU or IT $3
Kick-Ass 4K/VU $5.5 or HD/VU $4 or SD/IT $1.5
Kid Who Would Be King 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Kidnap HD/VU or IT $2.5
Killer Elite HD/IT $3
Killerman HD/VU $4
Kin (2018) 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
King Kong (2005) 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Kingsman Golden Circle 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3
Kingsman Secret Service 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Knick Season 1 HD/IT $3.5
Knick Season 2 HD/IT $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Kung Fu Panda 3 HD/MA $3
La La Land 4K/IT $3.5
Labor Day HD/VU or IT $3
Lady & Tramp HD/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $4
Lady Macbeth HD/VU $4.5
Last Christmas HD/MA $4
Last Exorcism HD/VU $4
Last Knights HD/VU $3.5 or SD/VU $1.5
Last Man (2019) HD/VU $4
Last Stand HD/IT $2
Last Vegas HD/MA $3.5
Last Witch Hunter HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Leatherface HD/VU $4
Legend of Hercules 4K/IT $3
Leprechaun 7-Film Collection HD/VU $12
Les Miserables (2012) HD/VU or IT $2
Let Me Explain HD/IT $2.5
Let's be Cops HD/MA $3.5
Life (2017) HD/MA $3.5
Life of Crime HD/VU $3.5
Life of Pi 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA or IT $3.5
Light of My Life HD/IT $3.5
Like a Boss HD/VU $3.5
Lilo & Stitch 2 Stitch Has a Glitch HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Lilo & Stitch HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Lincoln Lawyer 4K/VU $6.5 or HD/VU $4
Lion King (1994) HD/GP $3
Lion King (2019) 4K/MA $4 or HD/GP $2
Logan HD/MA $3
Logan Lucky 4K/MA or IT $4.5
Lone Ranger HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Lone Survivor HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Long Shot HD/VU $3.5
Longest Ride HD/MA $3
Longest Week HD/VU $3.5
Looper HD/MA $3.5
Lorax (1972) HD/MA $5
Lorax HD/VU $3
Lords of Salem HD/VU $4
Lost World Jurassic Park HD/MA $3
Love & Monsters HD/VU $4
Love Coopers HD/VU or IT $4
Love, Simon HD/MA $3.5
Loving HD/VU or IT $3.5
Luca HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Lucy HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Mad Max 2 Road Warrior 4K/VU $5.5
Madagascar 3 Europe's Most Wanted HD/VU or IT $3
Madea's Witness Protection SD/IT $1.5
Magnificent Seven (2016) HD/VU $3
Maleficent 4K/MA $4 or HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Maleficent Mistress of Evil HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Mama HD/IT $3
Man Who Shot Liberty Vance 4K/VU $5.5
Mandela Long Walk to Freedom HD/VU $4
Martian HD/MA $3.5
Mary Poppins (1964) HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Mary Poppins Returns HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Matrix Resurrections 4K/MA $5.5
Max Steel HD/IT $3
Maze Runner Death Cure HD/MA $3.5
Maze Runner HD/MA $3.5
McKenna Shoots for Stars HD/IT $2
Mechanic Resurrection HD/VU $2.5
Megan Leavey HD/IT $3
Midnight Sun HD/MA $3.5
Midway 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Mile 22 HD/IT $3
Million Dollar Arm HD/GP $2.5
MindGamers HD/MA or IT $3.5
Minions 4K/MA or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Misconduct HD/VU $2.5
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children HD/MA $3
Missing Link HD/MA $4
Mission Impossible 3 4K/VU $4.5
Mission Impossible 4 Ghost Protocol HD/VU $2
Mission Impossible 5 Rogue Nation HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Mission Impossible 6 Fallout 4K/VU or IT $4.5
Mission Impossible 6-film Set 4K/VU $23 or HD/VU $17
Moana HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Moneyball HD/MA $3
Monkey Kingdom HD/MA $3
Monster High Electrified HD/VU or IT $2.5
Monsters University HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Monuments Men HD/MA $3.5
Mortal Engines 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Mortal HD/VU $4
Mortal Instruments City of Bones HD/MA $3 or SD/MA $1.5
Mother! HD/VU $2.5
Mother's Day HD/IT $2.5
Much Ado About Nothing (2013) HD/VU $4
Mud HD/VU $2.5
Mulan (2020) 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Mummy (1999) HD/VU $4
Mummy (2017) 4K/MA or IT $4.5
Muppets Most Wanted HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Murder on Orient Express HD/MA $3.5
My All American HD/MA or IT $3.5
My Fair Lady 4K/VU $5.5
Nebraska HD/VU $3
Nerve HD/IT $3.5
New Mutants HD/GP $3
News of World 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/MA $4
Night at Museum Secret of Tomb HD/MA $3
Nightmare Alley 4K/MA $5.5 or HD/GP $3.5
Nightmare Before Christmas HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
No Escape (2015) HD/VU $3
No Strings Attached HD/VU or IT $3.5
No Time to Die 4K/IT $4.5
Noah HD/VU or IT $2.5
Nobody's Fool HD/IT $2.5
Non-Stop HD/VU or IT $3
Norm of North HD/VU $2.5
Nostalgia (2018) HD/MA $3.5
Now You See Me 2 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Now You See Me HD/VU or IT $2.5 or SD/VU $1
Nutcracker & Four Realms HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Oblivion 4K/MA or IT $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Occupation (2018) HD/VU $3.5
Occupation Rainfall HD/VU $4
Office Christmas Party HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Olaf's Frozen Adventure HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Ong Bak 2 HD/VU $3
Onward 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Other Woman HD/MA $3
Ouija HD/IT $3.5
Ouija Origin of Evil HD/VU or IT $3.5
Outlander Season 1 Vol 1 HD/VU $5.5
Overdrive HD/IT $2.5
Overlord 4K/IT $3.5
Oz Great & Powerful HD/GP $2.5
Paddington HD/VU $3.5
Pain & Gain HD/VU or IT $3.5
Paranormal Activity 3 (Ext) HD/VU or IT $3
Paranormal Activity 4 (Unrated) HD/VU or IT $2.5
Paranormal Activity HD/VU $4
Paranormal Activity Marked Ones HD/VU or IT $3.5
Passengers HD/MA $3
Patriot Games 4K/VU $5
Patriot's Day HD/VU $3
Peanuts Movie HD/MA $3
Penguins of Madagascar HD/MA $3.5
Pet Sematary (2019) 4K/IT $3.5
Peter Pan (1953) HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Peter Rabbit HD/MA $3.5
Pete's Dragon (2016) HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Philomena HD/VU $2.5
Pinocchio (1940) HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Pirates of Caribbean Dead Men Tell No Tales 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/GP $2.5
Pitch Black (Unrated) HD/MA or IT $4
Pitch Perfect 2 4K/MA $4 or HD/VU $2.5
Pitch Perfect HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Pixar Short Films Collection Vol. 3 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Planes Fire & Rescue HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Planes HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Playing with Fire HD/IT $2.5
Pocahontas 2 Journey to a New World HD/GP $3.5
Pocahontas HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Point Break (2015) 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Poison Rose 4K/VU $4.5
Pompeii HD/MA $3.5
Possession HD/VU or IT $2.5
Power Rangers (2017) 4K/VU or IT $4.5
Precious HD/VU $4.5
Predator (2018) HD/MA $3
Predator 4-Film Collection HD/MA $11
Premium Rush HD/MA $3.5
Pride & Prejudice & Zombies HD/MA $3.5 or SD/MA $1.5
Primal HD/VU $3.5
Prodigy HD/VU $4
Project Almanac HD/IT $3.5
Protege HD/VU $4
Punisher 4K/VU $5.5
Punisher War Zone 4K/VU $5.5
Purge Anarchy HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Purge Election Year 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Purge HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Quarry 4K/VU $5
Queen & Slim HD/MA $4
Queen of Katwe HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Ralph Breaks Internet HD/GP $2
Rambo (2008) 4K/VU $5.5
Rambo 3 4K/VU $5.5
Rambo 5-Film Collection 4K/VU $23 or HD/VU $17
Rambo First Blood Pt 2 4K/VU $5.5
Rambo Last Blood 4K/VU $4.5
Rango HD/VU $3.5
Raya & Last Dragon HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Rear Window HD/MA $3.5
Reclaim HD/VU $3.5
RED 2 HD/VU $2
Red Dawn (2012) HD/VU or IT $3
Red Sparrow HD/MA $3.5
Replicant (2001) HD/VU $3.5
Replicas HD/VU $3.5
Requiem for a Dream (Director's Cut) 4K/VU $5.5
Resident Evil Retribution 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Resurrection of Gavin Stone HD/VU or IT $2.5
Revenant HD/MA $3.5
Riddick (Unrated) HD/VU or IT $3
Ride Along HD/VU or IT $2.5
Ride Like a Girl HD/VU $4
Ring HD/VU $4.5
Rings HD/VU or IT $2.5
Rio 2 HD/MA $3
Riot HD/VU or IT $3
RIPD HD/IT $2.5
Risen HD/MA $3
Robin Hood (1973) HD/MA $3.5
Robin Hood (2018) HD/VU $3
Robocop (2014) HD/VU $2.5
Rocketman (2019) 4K/IT $4
Rogue One A Star Wars Story HD/GP $2
Ron's Gone Wrong HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Rough Night 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Runner Runner HD/MA $3.5
Rush HD/VU or IT $3
Safe HD/VU or IT $2.5
Saige Paints Sky HD/IT $3
Same Kind of Different As Me HD/IT or IT $3
Samson HD/MA $3.5
Santa Clause 2 HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Santa Clause 3 HD/MA $3
Santa Clause HD/MA $3.5
Santa Clause Trilogy HD/MA $9.5 or HD/GP $8
Savages HD/IT $3
Saving Mr. Banks HD/GP $3
Saw 7-Film Collection (Unrated) HD/VU $18
Saw 8-Film Collection HD/VU $20
Saw HD/VU $3
Scarface HD/VU $4
Scary Movie 5 HD/VU $4.5
Scary Stories to Tell in Dark 4K/VU $4.5
Schindler's List 4K/MA $5.5
Scouts Guide to Zombie Apocalypse HD/IT $3
Scream (1996) HD/VU $4
Scrooged HD/IT $4
Secret Life of Pets 4K/IT $4.5
Secret Life of Walter Mitty HD/MA $3
Selma HD/VU or IT $2.5
Sex Tape HD/MA $3.5
Shack HD/IT $2.5
Shallows HD/MA $3.5
Shang-Chi Legend of Ten Rings HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Shape of Water HD/MA $3.5
Sharp Objects HD/GP $2
Shaun of Dead HD/MA $4 or 4K/IT $4.5
Shaun Sheep Movie HD/VU $3
Sherlock Gnomes HD/VU or IT $2.5
She's Having a Baby HD/VU $3.5
Shivers HD/VU $4
Show Dogs HD/MA $3.5
Siberia (2018) HD/VU $3
Siberia (2020) HD/VU $4
Sicario HD/VU $2.5
Side Effects HD/IT $3.5
Sing (2016) 4K/IT $4
Singing in Rain 4K/MA $5.5
Sinister HD/IT $2.5
Sisters (Unrated) HD/IT $2.5
Sixteen Candles HD/MA $4
Skyfall HD/VU $2.5
Skyscraper HD/MA $3.5
Sleeping Beauty (1959) HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Sleepless HD/IT $2
Smokey & Bandit HD/MA $3.5
Smurfs Lost Village HD/MA $3.5
Snatched HD/MA $2
Snitch HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3 or SD/VU or IT $1
Snow White & Huntsman (Ext Edition) 4K/VU or IT $4.5 or HD/VU $3
Snow White & Seven Dwarfs (1937) HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Solo A Star Wars Story HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Some Kind of Wonderful HD/VU $3.5
Songbird 4K/IT $4.5
Sonic Hedgehog 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Soul HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Southpaw HD/VU $3
Southside With You HD/VU $4.5
Spider-Man 4-Cut Set (Spider-Man 2 w/ Thea & Ext) HD/MA $11.5
Spider-Man Far From Home HD/MA $3.5
Spider-Man Homecoming HD/MA $3
Spider-Man Homecoming/Far From Home Bundle HD/MA $6
Spies in Disguise 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
Spiral 4K/VU or IT $4.5
Split 4K/MA or IT $5
Split HD/MA $3.5
Spongebob Sponge out of Water HD/IT $2.5
Spy Who Dumped Me 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
St. Vincent HD/VU $3
Stand Up Guys HD/VU $3.5
Star Trek (2009) HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Star Trek 1-4 (Motion Picture, Wrath of Khan, Search for Spock, Voyage Home) 4K/VU $18
Star Trek Beyond HD/VU $3
Star Trek Into Darkness HD/VU $2.5
Star Wars Force Awakens HD/GP $1.5
Star Wars Last Jedi 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Star Wars Rise of Skywalker 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $3 or HD/GP $2.5
Step Up Revolution HD/IT $3
Sting 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5
Straight Outta Compton (Thea & Unrated) 4K/MA $4.5
Straight Outta Compton (Unrated) HD/MA $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Strangers Prey at Night HD/MA $3
Suburbicon HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Sudden Death HD/IT $4
Suits Season 2 HD/IT $3.5
Sum of All Fears 4K/VU $5.5
Sundown Vampire in Retreat HD/VU $3.5
Super 8 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Super Buddies HD/GP $2
Sword in Stone HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Taxi Driver HD/MA $4
Ted (Unrated) HD/IT $3
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014) HD/VU $2.5
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Out of Shadows HD/VU $3.5
Terminator 2 Judgment Day (Ext) HD/VU $4.5
Terminator 2 Judgment Day HD/VU $3.5
Terminator Dark Fate 4K/VU or IT $4 or HD/VU $2.5
Terminator Genisys HD/VU $2.5
Thanks for Sharing HD/VU $4
This is 40 HD/MA $3.5
This is End HD/MA $3.5
Thor Dark World HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Thor HD/GP $3.5 or SD/IT $1.5
Thor Ragnarok HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri HD/MA $3.5
To Kill a Mockingbird 4K/IT $4
Top Gun (1986) 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Total Recall (1990) HD/VU $3.5
Toy Story 4 4K/MA $4.5 or HD/MA $2.5 or HD/GP $2
Toy Story HD/GP $3.5
Toy Story of Terror HD/MA $4 or HD/GP $3.5
Transformers 4K/VU $5
Transformers Age of Extinction HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Transformers Last Knight HD/VU $2.5 or 4K/IT $3
Tremors A Cold Day In Hell HD/MA $2.5
Triple 9 HD/IT $3.5
Trolls HD/MA $2.5
Trumbo HD/IT $3.5
Trust HD/VU $4
Turbo HD/MA or IT $3
Turning HD/MA $4
Twilight Breaking Dawn 2 HD/VU $1.5 or 4K/IT $2 or SD/VU $0.5
Twilight Breaking Dawn Pt 1 HD/VU $3.5 or 4K/IT $4
Twilight HD/VU $4
Tyler Perry's Temptation HD/GP $3
Unbreakable HD/GP $3.5
Unbroken HD/VU or IT $3
Uncle Drew HD/VU $3.5
Underworld Awakening HD/MA $3
Untouchables 4K/VU $5
Valerian & City of a Thousand Planets HD/VU $3.5
Vampire Academy HD/VU $4
Van Helsing HD/MA $3.5
Vanishing (2018) HD/VU $4
Veep Season 6 HD/IT $3.5
Venom HD/MA $3.5
Victoria & Abdul HD/MA $4
Vivarium HD/VU $4
Voices (2014) HD/VU $4
Walk HD/MA $3.5
War for Planet of Apes HD/MA $3
Warcraft HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
Warm Bodies 4K/VU $4.5 or HD/VU $3 or SD/VU $1.5
Warrior 4K/VU $5 or HD/VU $3.5
Werewolf Beast Among Us (Unrated) HD/IT $3.5
West Side Story 4K/MA $5 or HD/MA $3.5 or HD/GP $3
What Men Want HD/VU $3 or 4K/IT $3.5
When Game Stands Tall HD/MA $3 or SD/MA $1.5
Whisky Tango Foxtrot HD/IT $3
Why Him? HD/MA $3
Widows HD/MA $3.5
Wild Card HD/VU $3
Wild HD/MA $3.5
Wilson HD/MA $3.5
Winchester HD/VU $3.5
Wolf of Wall Street HD/VU or IT $3.5
Wolverine (Unrated) (w/Thea) HD/MA $4
Wonder HD/VU $3
Wonder Park 4K/IT $2.5
Wonder Woman 1984 4K/MA $5.5
Woodlawn HD/MA or IT $3.5
World War Z HD/VU or IT $2.5
Wraith HD/VU $4
X-Men Apocalypse HD/MA $3
X-Men Days of Future Past HD/MA $3
X-Men First Class & Days of Future Past HD/MA $6.5
XXX Return of Xander Cage HD/VU $2 or 4K/IT $2.5
You Were Never Really Here HD/VU $4
You're Next HD/VU $3.5
Z for Zachariah HD/VU $4
Zero Dark Thirty HD/MA $3.5
Zeros & Ones HD/VU $4.5
Zootopia HD/GP $2.5

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worldnews

• 9lobaldude

Germany: Ukraine can launch attacks on Russian territory to defend itself
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• 9lobaldude

White House: We are against strikes on Russian territory, but it’s up to Ukraine to decide
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• HarakenQQ

Russian Volunteer Corps and Freedom of Russia Legion announce breaking into Russia again
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news

• Hrekires

Woman who accused Biden of sexually assaulting her in 1993 defects to Russia
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• petitbleuchien

Trump captured on tape talking about classified document he kept after leaving the White House
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• Agent_Honeydew

Actor Danny Masterson convicted of two counts of rape at second Los Angeles trial
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science

• MistWeaver80

One in six people who had COVID-19 without first being vaccinated report still feeling health effects two years after the virus, according to Swiss research. 17% did not return to normal health and 18% reported covid-19 related symptoms after 24 months.
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• Wagamaga

Earth has pushed past seven out of eight scientifically established safety limits and into “the danger zone,” not just for an overheating planet that’s losing its natural areas, but for well-being of people living on it
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• IMBatUQ

Researchers have shown that an Australian wild tobacco plant could be used to grow medicines in large quantities bringing us a step closer to making 'growing medicines in plants' a reality.
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space

• caspy7

New 'quasi-moon' discovered near Earth has been travelling alongside our planet since 100 BC Live Science
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• fchung

Stunning Photo of Earth Taken by Europe's Powerful New Satellite
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• Gari_305

NASA’s UFO Research Team Briefs the Public
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Futurology

• Dr_Singularity

Scientists' report world's first X-ray of a single atom
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• filosoful

Bill Nelson, head of NASA: 'We want to protect the water on the Moon to prevent China from taking it over'
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• Happy_Escape861

New blood biomarker can predict if cognitively healthy elderly will develop Alzheimer’s disease
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AskReddit

• ParmaProscuitto

What would you ban if you knew you had final say?
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• Hecaroni_n_Trees

What’s something most people find attractive that you can’t stand?
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• ArcticCircleSystem

[SERIOUS] What organization or institution do you consider to be so thoroughly corrupt that it needs to be destroyed?
Comments Link

todayilearned

• Specialist_Check

TIL of cascatelli, a new pasta shape invented in 2021 by podcaster Dan Pashman for maximum "sauceability", "forkability" and "toothsinkability"
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• Algrinder

TIL A chess robot in Moscow broke the finger of its 7-year-old human opponent after the boy made a quick move without waiting for the robot to complete its turn.
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• UralIveGotTonight

TIL that the acronym “R.I.P.” has been engraved on tombstones since at least the fifth century. “Rest in Peace” is the English translation of a Latin phrase with the same acronym.
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dataisbeautiful

• dpee123

How the job, nationality, and gender of celebrities have changed since the 1700s. [OC]
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• nearestneighbormaps

[OC] The United States of Nearest Neighbors. This is a map of the Continental US if the state borders were determined by the closest state capital (using the great circle distance).
Comments Link

• roll_hog

Coors, Miller take Bud Light share amid controversy
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Cooking

• DueMaternal

Having a passion for cooking while being broke...
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• SquirrelofAnonymity

What are some good, simple sides to have with steak?
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• Electric_OwlDonut

What’s the ideal cooking oil for cooking ground beef & chicken, frying taquitos in a pan, and stir frying?
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food

• chashaoballs

[I ate] A 1lb Philly cheesesteak
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• fruscivnte

[i ate] donuts
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• mazdawg89

Pork rib sliders with bread and butter pickles on griddled keto buns [homemade]
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movies

• singleguy79

Sergio Calderóne Dead: ‘Pirates Of The Caribbean,’ ‘Men In Black’ Actor Was 77
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• MarvelsGrantMan136

Official Poster for Yorgos Lanthimos’ ‘Poor Things’
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• Key_Damage_9220

New Poster for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny
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Art

• Oddarette

Sushi Manatee, Oddarette (Me), Digital Painting, 2023
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• adanvc

Model 27. A Tribute to Hajime Sorayama, Adan Vazquez (me), acrylic on illustration board, 2023.
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• DChinh_2k

2 tuna cans pleas, by me, digital art, 2022
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television

• MarvelsGrantMan136

Danny Masterson Convicted on Two Counts of Forcible Rape, Faces 30 Years in Prison
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• MarvelsGrantMan136

Writers’ Shut-It-Down Strategy Has Been Effective, Executives Privately Concede
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• MarvelsGrantMan136

‘The Righteous Gemstones’ Adds Stephen Dorff, Iliza Shlesinger, Sturgill Simpson, and Five Others to Season 3 Cast
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pics

• cutHokusai

Arkansas VS Weed
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• CLE_BROWNS_32

Spotted in Cleveland, Ohio at a gas station. May, 2023.
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• aUsefulThrowawayAcct

Took a picture of my eye using the macro lens on my iPhone
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gifs

• bananimator

I turn into a hot dog
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• LadyAbraxus

NO STOPPING
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• wdfegwrwhgrhhrt

He want to say hello to everybody
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educationalgifs

• strictlayout053

Making of Vennetta
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mildlyinteresting

• tarheelsdend

This house that has a tunnel through a juniper bush to get to their front door
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• getyoutogabba

This car is full of bumper stickers that say bumper sticker
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• Rejected-Name-ID

Gas in Ohio costs 1 cent per gallon
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interestingasfuck

• ElPolloPayaso

Dish towel used by R. Lee to surrender to Union forces, known as the final flag of the Confederacy
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• AccurateSource2

The elephant’s penis is prehensile. They can use it to prop themselves up, swat flies from their side and scratch themselves on their stomach.
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• _kevx_91

Headquarters of the India National Fisheries Board.
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funny

• CallMeCaptainAmerica

The Nintendo Captcha System gave me an image of a dude taking a leak…
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• Fit-Card-8925

Cat sneezes into a bowl of flour.
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• lightmasterp55022

*If birds were humans. *
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aww

• fat_old_boy

Sport is life!
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• EasternBeyond

Help I am stuck on the sofa. What do I do
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• fat_old_boy

Red pandas eating red apples.
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