So I’ve been down the rabbit hole, trying to chase every off-the-cuff reference, stray allegory, allusion, comparison, and tangent. I’m going to need you to bear (hug) with me for a bit because I think I’ve stumbled on some truly insane parallels between this show and the myriad of references it makes and it will take a lot of text to justify to you that I'm not crazy (or that I am, but at least I do my research).
This is a show that employs a ton of intertextuality and what the poet T.S. Eliot (someone quoted frequently throughout the series) calls “the mythic method”: essentially using historical, literary, and mythological allusions to draw parallels between characters on the show and characters throughout history (real and imagined).
This method helps the audience to build both conscious and unconscious associations with each of the characters and, ultimately, underscores the Roys’ (and humanity’s) damning commitment to making the same mistakes over and over again. The show seems to draw a lot from Greek mythology, Arthurian legend, biblical parables, Shakespearean tragedy, and modernist poetry (among many other things).
These networks of symbolism span from the earliest recorded history to modern celebrity culture and yet they reveal frighteningly unchanged elements in the stories they tell. The parallels of these references throughout the show serve to highlight the cyclical (the illusion of progress) and deterministic (the illusion of free will) nature of existence.
While I will be dipping in and out of the existing references, I want to call particular attention to the poetry of the aforementioned T.S. Eliot (who champions the mythic method) and John Berryman’s poem Dream Song 29 because I believe much of their work has served as a foundation for characters.
In the show, Frank makes mention of his poem “The Long Song Of J Alfred Prufrock” more than once. Outside of the show, Matthew McFayden (the actor who plays Tom) references the same poem to describe his character. Jeremy Strong (the actor who plays Kendall) says Eliot’s work The Four Quartets is a huge inspiration to his acting and character. A line from this particular work did strike me as being quite on the nose, which is why I continued to comb the poem for more (which it does deliver on):

"In my beginning is my end. In succession Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass. Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires, Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth Which is already flesh, fur and faeces, Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf."

This will probably be a monster of a post, so I will attempt to break down the following sections between poetic parallels, visual and dialogic symbolism of eternal recurrence, and an exploration of the historical and mythological allusions. Ultimately, I believe all of these clues point to the overwhelming conclusion that we will end where we began, in some way or another.
Circles & Cycles: Endless Recurrence & The Futility Of Progress
The show toys a lot with the philosophical concept of eternal recurrence, which postulates that “time repeats itself in an infinite loop, and that exactly the same events will continue to occur in exactly the same way, over and over again, for eternity.”
These eternal loops are symbolized visually with mirrors, water, fractal reflections; in the “uh-huh” and “mhmms” of repeated, near-palindromic dialogue; and in the show events that echo and repeat: in-air death scares, asynchronous business deals, family betrayal, weddings, retreats, implosions, family reunions, trauma bonding, baptism, funerals, etc.
In this understanding of time, there is no linear progress — or even progress at all. Time is cyclical. People are cyclical. As are the events that transpire. This is particularly interesting in a show like Succession whose title alone implies the phrase “line of succession.” Viewers would expect to see what comes next — who comes next — but as Logan himself yells, “Nothing is a line. Everything is moving all the time.”
Logan consistently evokes the circle shape in his speech, “Put a circle around him” he tells Shiv. “We’ve been circling for an hour, tell them we’re out of gas,” he complains in a moment of grim foreshadowing on his plane. “Crawl in a circle and close your eyes,” he shouts during the game of Boar on the Floor.
And he is the bright, burning nebulous center of this circle. He’s described as “carr[ying] his gravity. He's not a man, he's a f*cking planet.” And the people around him are described like satellites and moons. Characters exist in his orbit. And every complete orbit (or “revolution”) leaves characters in exactly the same place. There are motions, there is the illusion of progress, but the result is the same. Eliot again:

“every attempt Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure”

With this understanding, the show may just end where it begins. Not only in “nothing” happening, but in repeating the same events ad infinitum: A kid tries to take over the family business, they try to align with their siblings, they eventually backstab their siblings, they end out in the cold, and then they reunite, swear not to do it again, until it all repeats.
As most of us are aware, the show has made very direct mention of the John Berryman poem Dream Song 29. The names of the past three season finales (as well as the name of the upcoming fourth) are all direct excerpts from the poem, which deals with grief and sadness and the guilt of killing someone when you can’t even confirm there’s been someone killed at all.
Berryman consistently wrote about the guilt and grief he experienced from his father’s suicide. Berryman himself would eventually end up taking his own life, which on its own is a brutal reminder of the cycles of trauma. It also doesn’t feel insignificant that Berryman jumped off a bridge.
What’s really interesting is how each subsequent finale is named for a line that comes earlier and earlier in the poem. It also toys with this concept that things come full circle and end where they begin. This echoes Eliot’s essential thesis of the poem:

“What we call the beginning is often the end And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”

But while the speaker of the poem comes to realize he has not murdered “nobody” by the poem’s last line; Kendall, moving through the poem backward, must reckon with the idea that he may have killed somebody even if they were a “nobody.” And while we may encounter this as a moment in which Kendall is genuinely despairing over his season 1 inadvertent murder, I believe we are far more likely to see Kendall embrace this moment.
We see "nobody" and "no one mentioned" a lot when it comes to Logan, who believes most people are "fungible as f*ck," and "pygmies" while he's "1,000 feet tall." When Kendall is involved in the accident, we see him echo "NRPI" or no real person involved.
The reason Kendall couldn’t live up to his father’s expectations is that he couldn’t be the killer his father needed him to be (even if his morality or basis of being a good person is off). This retroactive movement through the poem could be Kendall realizing he is, in fact, the killer his father always needed him to be, enabling him to take the necessary steps of seizing the crown on his own.
Allegories & Allusions: Mythic Comparisons & Determinism
It’s Shakespearean, like Roman says, “I kill Kendall, get crowned king, like we’re in f*cking Hamlet or something.” But it’s not just Hamlet, it’s King Lear, King Richard III, Coriolanus, Macbeth. And it’s not just Shakespeare, it’s Oedipus Rex, The Odyssey, The Waste Land, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Cronus devouring his children, Romulus killing Remus, Noah cursing his child for looking upon him naked.
The concept of the monomyth was popularized in "The Hero With 1000 Faces" and discusses throughout history, throughout different times and places, different cultures, different religions, different people have developed stories with relatively similar fundamental elements. The show is rife with allusions of stories that follow that same thread. Logan is Cronus who is King Lear who is Romulus who is who is. This is another form of endless recurrence: the inability to break the cycle. Or, in a very Hamlet reference, "maybe the poison drips through."
The themes of patricide, fratricide, and incest in particular are rampant. Rhea (like Rhea Jarell) in Greek mythology is both sister and consort to Cronus. Both are part of the first generation of aptly named Titan gods. Cronus overthrew his father Uranus and learns his children are fated to overthrow him. So he eats them as soon as they are born. Logan does refer to people as food a surprising amount throughout the show, varying from red meat to vegetables. He outright calls for blood sacrifice, which evokes the language of the gods.
Logan is referenced specifically as one of the last real American titans in his obituaries and eulogies. The language around him is frequently god-like. He's known as "the big man" or even "the big man upstairs." Tom tells Greg to "be his representative here on earth"; Roman asks the audience, "who is going to climb Mt. Olympus and be the next Dr. Zeus?" And that's where the myth gets interesting.
The only child not to be eaten is Zeus, who does end up killing his father and was surprisingly interested in marrying his mother. We're familiar with this plot formula through a different archetype: the Oedipus Complex, which we see referenced in the show with “Oedipus Roy,” “Oedipussy,” and “stabbing my eyes out.” The same story is repeated again in Hamlet with brother killing and brother and son yelling at his mother about her milky breasts (something Roman does to Shiv more than once). In the show when Logan says to Roman, “You may want to f*ck your mother but I don’t.” We know none of these stories end well. As Connor muses, “It’s not right to kill one’s father; history teaches us that.”
In the story of Romulus and Remus (whose mother’s name is also Rhea), the two brothers were initially chased out of their city as potential threats to the King (yet again). They were left by the river to die and were saved by the river god (important). After successfully overthrowing the kingdom that left them for dead, they agree to found a new city. They ultimately disagreed on which hill to found it and decided to have a bird-watching competition to see who could see the most omens indicating they had divine approval for the hill. Remus says he saw 6 auspicious birds but Romulus claims to see 12. Romulus kills Remus over this.
It should remind you of Logan visiting his childhood home with Ewan: “I saw a mistle thrush at the bandstand,” and the log book he kept as a child of birds he “saw” that Ewan would cross out if he didn’t believe him. It may also echo a part of The Four Quartets, “Other echoes/ Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?/ Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,/ Round the corner. Through the first gate,/ Into our first world, shall we follow/ The deception of the thrush?"
There is much to be said about the themes of warring brothers. Also the themes of fathers worried their children would one day overthrow them who take action to thwart or murder their children, which inadvertently sets into motion the very outcome they fear. It happens over and over again in stories old and new. As Panhandle Pete says, “I push him, he pushes me, and around and around we go.” Or as Eliot puts it, “that the wheel may turn and still / Be forever still.”
Much of these works touch on a sort of determinism, or the slow crushing reality that every action you take — even if that action is an attempt to thwart your fate — will ultimately lead to the same inevitable ending. This is the illusion of free will on top of the illusion of progress. And Logan, in fearing his children would usurp him (and also disparaging his children for not being able to), set into motion his own death and his own messy succession.
It’s also a reminder that the greatest men in life are all the same when laid to rest:

"O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark, The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant, The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters, The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers, Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees, Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark…"

Structure & Symbolism: Water As Rebirth & Destruction
The show has very much been structured around Kendall, and we watch him move through bodies of water with what feels like different symbolism each time. Is he drowning, is he reborn? We witness Kendall at his lowest point face down in a pool and at one of his highest, splashing into the Pacific ocean. We watch a man drown. We watch Logan beg Kendall for water as they walk through Adrien Brody’s maze. We watch Roman clamor for water at the funeral when he needs to calm down. Poetry has long played with this life and death dynamic in water, like the sailors dying of thirst in Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner who cry:

“Water, water, every where,. And all the boards did shrink;. Water, water, every where,. Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: O Christ!”

This sub has noted Kendall’s connection to water, which has been represented over and over visually. But once you realize every metaphor, analogy, and simile he uses is water-based, you can’t unhear it. He calls his father “a tsunami of corruption” and describes things “as more precious than water”; he calls deals “choppy” and “dead in the water,” and asks to “help steady the ship”; he offers to “row back” on business deals, says timing is “high tide,” and that he has “bigger fish to fry.”
Logan is apt to use similar water symbolism, even telling Shiv that she’s marrying a man “fathoms” beneath her. As Rhea tells him, fearful of his own monstrosity, “I can’t see the bottom of the pool. I don’t know if you care about anything. It scares me.” ATN’s major scandal was “death cruises.” Even his operating nemesis is called “Sandy.”
In fact, there is mention of all elements and seasons — in particular, fire from Shiv, air from Roman, and earth from Connor. T.S. Eliot’s The Four Quartets confront these same themes and share some surprising similarities with show scene locations, dialogue, and plot points.
That’s because Succession is an allegory for the micro and the macro: the rise and fall of families, civilizations, monarchies, dynasties, and empires. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, the cycles rinse and repeat. Eliot modeled the four quartets on the 4 elements and the 4 seasons. And you can see even in Succession a similar manifestation of 4 elements. And, well, 4 seasons of the show. (And what occurs after 4 seasons? A full revolution around the sun, bringing you to where you began.)
Water seems to be at the root of it all. Even Ewan’s eulogy meditates on his and Logan’s journey on a boat. Even their abusive uncle is named Noah. In the show, we watch our nobody die by water, we watch our main character nearly die by water, and then we watch him revive in the ocean. As Kendall and his father wind their way through Adrien Brody’s circuitous Long Island home, Kendall remarks, “I think this leads to the ocean.” Because every path leads to the sea in some way or another.
The overarching narration from T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land is the Arthurian Legend of The Fisher King. This story is told a million different ways with a million different outcomes, but always boils down to an injured or maimed monarch ruling over a dying land. Or as Ewan refers to his "empire of shit": “He’s built a wasteland and called it an empire.”
He’s looking for someone, anyone, to heal him, rescue the kingdom, and ensure the dynasty survives. This is the myth of the holy grail, which, in this show, can be seen as the throne: The original stories of the holy grail were not Christian/religious but they do employ a lot of the same mythmaking from earlier religions and mythologies to tell their stories and thus construct their new realties. As Eliot says in The Four Quartets:

"The whole earth is our hospital Endowed by the ruined millionaire, Wherein, if we do well, we shall Die of the absolute paternal care That will not leave us, but prevents us everywhere."

I believe Kendall (and the other children) represent the grail knights who try to save the king. (On the same level they stand in for the gods, the elements, or anything at all). When Christianity became more popular, these myths adapted to Christian overtones, but they still had the Celtic and pagan myths at their core: the grail becomes the chalice from the last supper.
That’s why Kendall’s easy comparisons of himself to Jesus feel less blasphemous than revelatory. Jesus is another hero archetype in the show’s mythology. He is willing to sacrifice himself, which Kendall must do in order to become the successor his father wanted. As he says, "this is a culmination of my life's journey to be crucified for you morons."
(It’s worth noting: In some legends, the knight saves the king; in others, he inadvertently destroys him. We know Logan dies, but it does feel less likely that Waystar Royco survives.) Drowning is a constant feature of Eliot's poems, but so is baptism and renewed life. It is difficult to determine the meaning of water in either instance, except that it doesn't discriminate as a life or death bringer, which is both beautiful and terrifying.
Parallels & Predictions: Piecing The Plot & Poetry Together
To repeat again, as this show is wont to do: “Crawl in a circle and close your eyes!” Logan Roy shouts during a game of Boar On A Floor. It’s an allegory, like many games on the series, and proudly says the quiet part out loud: Logan always wins. Here’s a little boar on the floor reference in The Four Quartets:

"We move above the moving tree In light upon the figured leaf And hear upon the sodden floor Below, the boarhound and the boar Pursue their pattern as before But reconciled among the stars."

We’ve seen the L.O.G.A.N. system at work many times and with many people. He dangles a carrot, a morsel of love, as each character attempts to play the game over and over while expecting different results. They are doomed to crawl in that circle, to play that blind game, as Logan angrily shouts, “It’s fun!” And this game doesn't end in death. The children still ask. "What would dad do?"
Games on Succession (which are a consistent refrain), it turns out, are rarely fun and are often designed to humiliate or inflict pain. The same goes when characters say “I’m just kidding” after an eviscerating remark. Logan thinks life is a game, and as he says, games should be taken seriously. And because Logan explicitly makes the rules, there is no winning, just trudging around the board, passing Go, and collecting $200. The games are essentially Sisyphean tasks that the kids wouldn’t be able to win even if they were actually competent enough to run the company. And yet they keep rolling the boulder. It’s endless. The repetition. It ends where it begins.

"Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, Every poem an epitaph. And any action Is a step to the block, to the fire, down the sea's throat Or to an illegible stone: and that is where we start. We die with the dying: See, they depart, and we go with them. We are born with the dead: See, they return, and bring us with them. The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree Are of equal duration. A people without history Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern Of timeless moments."

Please also note the use of “the rose” and “the yew tree,” which are the names of Logan’s siblings Rose and Ewan, which derives from yew-tree. Other important name comparisons include Kendall’s association to spring/river valley; Siobhan’s nickname either a knife (Shiv) or Pinky (a variation of the name Rose); Roman’s connection to Romulus/Corialanus; Tom’s name meaning “twin” because there was already someone named Judas in the bible HELLO; Logan’s name meaning little hollow, which recalls another Eliot poem, The Hollow Men.
We know this show is a game, one that isn't fun at all, and one whose rules Logan made up. Even when there's a winner, there's no winner. So it's almost futile to play at all. That said, it’s impossible to make sense of any of it all without the ending — to confirm this ball has been rolling toward an inevitable conclusion, but given the show’s ending has probably occurred already, here are my thoughts:

• Kendall drowns

This may feel a bit on the nose given we’ve already seen this almost happen to “the Kurt Cobain of floaties,” but it would certainly be poetic. This could be sad (launched from a bridge); empowering (a la The Awakening); or metaphorical (a drug overdose). At some point Kendall says, "If dad didn’t need me right now I wouldn’t know what I would be for." The kids exist with Logan as their sun; they are moons, satellites, in orbit. And when their sun dies out, they repeat the motions in the cold, slowly losing their patterns and motions. The term is science is a rogue planet and the following lines from the poem remind me of Kendall and his broken, hollow stare.
“It would be the same at the end of the journey, If you came at night like a broken king, If you came by day not knowing what you came for, It would be the same, when you leave the rough road And turn behind the pig-sty to the dull facade And the tombstone. And what you thought you came for Is only a shell, a husk of meaning From which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled If at all. Either you had no purpose Or the purpose is beyond the end you figured And is altered in fulfilment.”

• Kendall is king of the ashes

Any victory feels like it will be a Pyrrhic victory regardless when you've had to systematically take down everyone you love to achieve it. The same lines above can echo here "the purpose is beyond the end you figured/And is altered in fulfilment." A hollow victory. The Fisher King question Logan poses is, "Who can replace me?" Logan wanted each of his children to display the killer instinct. Kendall’s backwards journey through Dreamsong 29 may very well see him realize he is, in fact, the killer his dad always wanted — with open eyes. This will probably involve taking down his siblings. In this version, winning is a lot like losing, which feels very Succession.

• Mattson wins it all

These Shakespearean histories and tragedies rarely end well for existing houses. With Richard III (the-multiple-lineage-ending war of the roses) and Hamlet (the-whole-house-dies-but-a-norwegian-king-swoops-in-to-take-it-all dynastic struggle) references abound. We may just see a new house rise up and rinse and repeat. This would probably also occur if the kids take each other down and leave it open for another party. We saw last season that Roman thought he had an in with Mattson until it didn’t serve Mattson anymore. I see the same thing happening between Roman and Mencken. This puts Mencken and Mattson in a position to take over, which may make Mattson win it or…

• Mattson destroys it all

When Mattson is introduced, he is referenced as a trickster. Generally, in mythology, this character is quite intelligent or in possession of secret knowledge, and he uses it for trickery and commandeering situations. (Is that blood thing real???). Hamlet concludes with every major character killing the other with their own tragic flaws until a third party Scandinavian comes in to take the crown with no necessary action or bloodshed at all. We already know he's unscrupulous; what is his end game? It reminds me of one of his early lines to Roman, which would be an eerie foreshadowing:
“Success doesn’t really interest me anymore, it’s too easy. Analysis + capital + execution. Fucking, anyone can do that. But failure, that’s a secret. Just as much failure as possible as fast as possible, burn that shit out, that’s interesting.”

• Tom betrays Shiv

We’ve seen it happen before (which is why it should happen again). We’ve also seen Tom remove the thin veneer of his ambitions to the point where he almost feels like Richard III. He has played the fool, which is Shakespearean estimation, is often equivalent to the trickster. This would be a fun and distorted parallel to Shiv offering this job to him for Logan to offer it to her. This would probably happen in conjunction with Mattson winning. As I mentioned earlier, the name Tom means “twin” and the apostle Tom was only called as such because there were already one too many “Judas” in the mix. He's also from Minnesota (the twin cities!), so this is becoming very real, you know???

• Greg betrays Tom

While we know Tom has betrayed Shiv before, we also know Greg betrayed Shiv and Tom when he spoke to Geri in the first season about Tom having a press conference on cruises. He leads Tom to believe Shiv has betrayed him, getting one over on both of them. There may also be something with the Rule of 3 and being betrayed 3 times that feels biblical. The show also makes TONS of references to holding on to blackmail for opportune moments. Will we see something like this?
I’m not a big believer that Greg will fail so far upwards that he will win (this would feel like a betrayal in its own right), but do I believe there’s a world where Greg gets himself on a piece of paper with a question mark. Maybe???

• Geri finally beats Tom

This is my personal hope because I want the Tom and Jerry allusion to be real more than any other I put together (we love a good cat and mouse game). If Mattson wins, he needs a US CEO. Geri has collected a massive amount of dirt on everyone. And to call back to season 1’s interim CEO discussions, Shiv says, “I don’t like Geri. But I don’t hate Geri either.” It would feel particularly good given how much time and effort Logan spent clarifying Geri would be terrible at the position. Especially as Logan disparaging someone generally means he’s afraid of what they can do.
I’ll end at the ending. Or conclude where Eliot did on The Four Quartets:

"We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flames are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one."

PS. Given ‘Pinky’ is another name for ‘Rose’ does this mean Shiv wins??? JK let’s just watch the show tonight and laugh at our predictions in the morning.

Saturday, May 20 - Friday, May 26

Top 60s

score	comments	title & link	mirrors
307	32 comments	[1967] Grace and Janis, 1967
295	65 comments	[1968] Was never the same after hearing this
31	11 comments	[60s] "This record blew me mind up"
15	1 comments	[60s] Led Zeppelin - Communication Breakdown
6	2 comments	[1964] The Yardbirds - Smokestack Lightning	[AM] [Dzr] [SC]

 

Top 70s

score	comments	title & link	mirrors
675	123 comments	[70s] Ozzy! Show some love, people!
288	69 comments	[1973] Legendary Classic Rock Band-Grand Funk Railroad.
250	88 comments	[70s] Most underrated band of the 70s
188	57 comments	[70s] Jeff Beck, Steve Cropper, Robbie Robertson, BB King, Jimmy Page, Keith Richards, Carlos Santana, The Edge, and John Fogerty
146	71 comments	[1977] Classic Punk Rock Legends-The Sex Pistols.

 

Top 80s

score	comments	title & link	mirrors
636	190 comments	[80s] Gary Numan & Billy Idol at Cruel World Festival, Pasadena, California, May 20th, 2023.
244	46 comments	[1985] Black Sabbath At Live Aid In 1985.
202	28 comments	[1988] Classic Americans Alternative Rock Legends-The Pixies.
145	39 comments	[1980] Classic American Punk Rockers ( Misfits ).
81	11 comments	[1980] The Legendary Bob Marley And The Wailers.

 

Top Remaining

score	comments	title & link	mirrors
576	101 comments	Tina Turner Dead: Legendary Rock & Soul Singer Was 83
351	301 comments	Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has lost its meaning.
321	52 comments	Classic Punk Rock Legends ( Dead Kennedys ).
281	78 comments	Any of you guys dig Joy Division?
266	31 comments	Alex Lifeson & Geddy Lee of Rush playing double neck guitars

 

Top 5 Most Commented

score	comments	title & link	mirrors
42	391 comments	Three bands and their entire discography. Who are you picking?
62	241 comments	Deep Cuts
50	220 comments	Ok! Tough job but… top 5 Classic Rock vocalists. Think voice not performance. All answers are subjective.
35	185 comments	Classic rock songs you hear constantly
32	160 comments	Songs where "all hell breaks loose?"

 

 
PTB is live!

Dead by Daylight End of Transmission Official Trailer

Patch Notes

How to Access the PTB !!PC Steam only!!
Progress & save data information has been copied from the Live game to our PTB servers on May 17th. Players will be able to progress for the duration of the PTB, but none of that progress will make it back to the Live version of the game.

Features

New killer: The Singularity.

• Power: Quantum Instantiation.
• Perks:
  
  • Genetic Limits: When a Survivor finishes the healing action, they suffer the Exhausted status effect for 24/28/32 seconds.
  • Forced Hesitation: When a Survivor is put into the dying state by any means, all other Survivors standing within 16/16/16 meters around them suffer the hindered Status effect for 10/10/10 seconds, reducing their Movement speed by 15%. This perk goes on cooldown for 60/50/40 seconds.
  • Machine Learning: After performing the damage generator action, Machine Learning activates.While this perk is active, the next generator you damage will be compromised until it is completed. The generator is highlighted in Yellow. When the compromised generator is completed, you become undetectable and gain 7% Haste for 20/25/30 seconds. Then, Machine Learning deactivates. If you break a gen while another generator is compromised, the compromised generator moves to the latest one kicked.

New survivor: Gabriel Soma.

• Gabriel's Perks:
  
  • Troubleshooter: When you are chased by the Killer, this perk activates. You see the aura of the Generator with the most progress. You see the aura of the Killer for 4/5/6 seconds after dropping a Pallet. The effect lasts for 6/8/10 seconds after being in chase, then deactivates.
  • Made for This: This perk activates while you are in the injured state. You run 1/2/3% faster. After you finish healing another Survivor, gain the endurance status effect for 6/8/10 seconds. Made for This cannot be used when suffering from Exhaustion, but does not cause the Exhausted Status Effect.
  • Scavenger: While you are holding an empty toolbox, this perk activates. Succeeding a great skill check while repairing gives the perk 1 token, up to 6/5/4. When you reach maximum tokens, lose all tokens automatically recharge the toolbox to full. Scavenger is disabled for the remainder of the Trial after recharging a toolbox. This perk grants the ability to rummage through an opened chest once per Trial and will guarantee a basic Toolbox.

New Map: Dvarka Deepwood - Toba Landing.

Killer Tweaks:

The Artist

• Ink Egg
  • Increase the maximum capacity of Dire Crows by 1. Decreases the time Dire Crows stay idle before disintegrating by 2 seconds (was 4 seconds).
• Vibrant Obituary
  • Increases the length of time a Dire Crow’s Killer Instinct reveals Survivors by 3 seconds (was 1.5 seconds).

The Nemesis

• Damaged Syringe
  • Increases time it takes Survivors to use a Vaccine by 3 seconds (was 2 seconds). Increases length of Killer Instinct when Survivors use a Vaccine by 3 seconds (was 2 seconds).
• Tyrant Gore
  • Increases mutation rate when destroying zombies with Tentacle Strike by 75% (was 50%). Decreases zombie respawn time by 7.5 seconds (was 5 seconds).
  • Zombie Heart Increases mutation rate when destroying zombies with Tentacle Strike by 75% (was 50%).

The Trickster

• Lucky Blade
  • Increase the duration of Main Event by 0.3 seconds (was 0.2 seconds) for each Blade hit while it is active.
• Waiting For You Watch
  • Increases the duration of Main Event by 0.4 seconds (was 0.3 seconds) for each Blade hit while it is active.

The Ghost Face

• Power
  • Movement speed while crouched: 3.8 m/s (was 3.6 m/s).
  • Night Shroud recharge time: 20 seconds (was 24 seconds).
  • Killer Instinct duration after being revealed: 4 seconds (was 2 seconds).
• Knife Belt Clip
  • Reduces the Terror Radius by 12 meters (was 8 meters) while crouching.
• Night Vision Monocular
  • A Survivor that reveals The Ghost Face is inflicted with Exhausted for 10 seconds (was 5 seconds).

The Executioner

• Power
  
  • When hitting a Survivor with Punishment of the Damned, that Survivor is inflicted with Torment.

Perk Updates:

Pop Goes the Weasel

• After hooking a Survivor, the next generator you damage instantly loses 30% (was 20%) of its current progress. Normal generator regression applies after the Damage Generator action. Pop Goes the Weasel is active for 35/40/45 seconds after the Survivor is hooked.

Déjà Vu

• We have noticed growing concerns surrounding excessively long matches caused by 3-genning (Killer defending a cluster of three generators). We are working on a long term solution for a future update to limit how effective this strategy can be. However, we recognize that Survivors need more options at their disposal right now to combat 3-genning. With this in mind, some adjustments have been made to Déjà Vu: The perk will now reveal the auras of 3 generators which are in close proximity to one another indefinitely (previously for 30/45/60 seconds at the start of the trial and everytime a generator was completed) and grant a 4%/5%/6% repair speed bonus on the revealed generators (previously 3%/4%/5%).

Flashbang

• After completing 70%/60%/50% progress on any generator, Flashbang activates. Enter a locker and press the Active Ability Button 1 to craft a flash grenade. (No longer requires being empty-handed)

Quality of Life

Search Bar

You can now filter your Items, Add-ons, Offerings, Perks, Cosmetics, Outfits and Charms using this textbox.
^{Please note that this feature is currently not available in custom matches, though we intend to bring Search Bar support to custom matches in a future release.}
The following text parts can be searched for:

• Name
• Description / flavor text
• Rarity
• The Collection name of a Cosmetic
• The Outfit name of a Cosmetic
• The Item that an Add-on attaches to
• For teachable Perks, the name of the character that unlocks it

Item Rules Rework

Items are now divided into categories:

• Survivor Item
  • These can return to a player's inventory at the end of a match e.g. Toolbox, Firecracker, etc
• Special Item
  • Items related to playing against specific Killers e.g. Lament Configuration, VHS Tape, etc
• Temporary Item
  • Items that do not return to a player's inventory at the end of a match e.g. the White Glyph's Pocket Mirror, Flashbang

Misc

• Added an update popup requiring players to back out to the splash screen when a backend update is deployed. This may happen with a Kill Switch change, release of new store items, or other similar changes. This popup will only appear in the Main Menu, in the Store, or before queueing as a Killer.
  
• Added protection against hackers using characters they do not own.
  
• Error messages produced by a disconnection, a timeout from the server, or a kick are now distinct and clearer.
  
• Several bug fixes.
  

Known Issues

TBD
Report Bugs Found on the PTB
Give Feedback on the PTB
Mini State of the Sub!
Design a Cosmetic Contest 2023
Follow BHVR on tiktok to help unlock community milestone rewards: tiktok.com/@deadbydaylight

Backstory I (30m) am a child of a affair on my fathers part growing up i knew this and he purposely kept me separate from his what my mother would call his actual family he was married and had multiple adopted children due to his wife unable to have her own from an early age I knew Where I Stood every time I would see him which would be one Saturday morning for breakfast every 6 months Maybe when he didn't forget to pick me up I would ask has your kids how's your wife will i ever meet them always to the same answer it's not a good time maybe down the road when things are better time went by by the age 18 I was gearing up to join the military and that is the last time I saw him I'd come home and leave or vacation and he'd be busy so on on for 6 years I got out I was retired in a bad place just trying to find my place in the world while dealing with the VA I called my father in a moment of weakness and asked him if he wanted to catch up he said sure I waited for him for 3 hours outside of Denny's no call no text no nothing I felt worthless I felt like a kid again waiting for someone who will never come that was the last time I spoke to my father brings me to today something just told me I should look him up he died a month ago i found his obituary to Google I'm angry and I'm sad both at myself for feeling this way for a man who honestly wasn't there and for him being gone even though we never had that kind of relationship no matter how much I wanted it I already lost my mom to her drinking and her escapades so here I am picking up the pieces again it's not like I'm angry at his family he is responsible for his own decisions and they don't know I exist except for his wife I'm just angry at myself for letting myself feel this way again damn the man for doing this to me and I hate myself for wishing that he didn't suffer I hope he's in a better place but apart he just wants to this hate him and not feel the sadness over him who never cared how I was doing i read the comments on his post talking about how great of a guy he was and all i can think about is how he is a stranger to me i look in the mirror and see him becuse my entire life my mom's told me I looked just like him that's not doing me any favors right now at the end of the day I put this out here just to vent if you take anything away just appreciate what you have in the way of family

Please note that the ticket links are usually for general admission; for VIP tickets, if available, you may have to go to the band's website.
Sunday, May 28, 2023

The Used, Pierce The Veil, Don Broco	St. Augustine Amphitheatre
Paralandra, Level The Planet, Red Calling	Brass Mug - Tampa
Jerome's Dream, Elizabeth Colour Wheel, The Holy Ghost Tabernacle	Rain Dogs - Jacksonville

Monday, May 29, 2023

The Dood, Nibiru, The Heavens, Oakflesh	High Dive - Gainesville
Fromjoy, Corpse Pile, Manifest in Filth	1904 Music Hall - Jacksonville

Tuesday, May 30, 2023

Madeline Goldstein, More Ephermal, Donzii	Will's Pub - Orlando

Friday, Jun 2, 2023

Attack Attack!, Traitors, Belmont	Conduit - Winter Park
Currents, Like Moths To Flames, Foreign Hands	Orpheum - Tampa
Summer Salt, The Rare Occasions, Addison Grace	The Abbey - Orlando

Saturday, Jun 3, 2023

Attack Attack!, Traitors, Belmont	Orpheum - Tampa
Not Promised Tomorrow, Get out of Nashville, Forged with Blood	Pegasus - Tampa
Screaming at the Silence, Auditory Armory, Orchestra in Black	Conduit - Winter Park
M.99, Shadow the Earth, FILTH	O'Malleys Alley - Ocala
Peace Cult, Sistamatic, Deux Visages	Stardust Video & Coffee - Orlando
SCHISM, New Divide, Humanity Gone	OCC Road House & Museum - Clearwater

Sunday, Jun 4, 2023

Ugly Kid Joe, Fozzy	Jannus - St. Petersburg

Monday, Jun 5, 2023

Rhapsody on Fire, Wind Rose, Seven Kingdoms	Conduit - Winter Park

Tuesday, Jun 6, 2023

Dying Whale, Dead Register, Moth Bite, The Path	Born Free Pub & Grill - Tampa
Heart Attack Man, Super American, Arm's Length	The Abbey - Orlando

Wednesday, Jun 7, 2023

Mike's Dead, The Haunt	Level 13 - Orlando
Within Chaos, Eyes Sewn Shut, Automatik Fit	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville
Jameson Tank, Parks & Razz, Outer Edge Band	1904 Music Hall - Jacksonville

Thursday, Jun 8, 2023

Subhumans, UpChuck, gilt	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville

Friday, Jun 9, 2023

Grass is Dead, The Coppertones	Underbelly - Jacksonville

Saturday, Jun 10, 2023

Halo Scars, Mind Virus, Cypher Machine, Re-Birth	Brass Mug - Tampa
Maul, Tombstoner, Plasmodulated	Conduit - Winter Park
Downswing, Falsifier, Bottomfeeders	Manna Tea & Kava Bar - Sarasota

Sunday, Jun 11, 2023

My Children My Bride, Extortionist, No Cure	Conduit - Winter Park
Bury Your Dead, Thirst, Edict	Tipsy Tiki - Fort Pierce

Monday, Jun 12, 2023

Maul, Tombstoner	Brass Mug - Tampa
Spotlights, Skyliner, The Darling Fire	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville

Tuesday, Jun 13, 2023

Halocene, Lauren Babic, Alphamega	Hooch & Hive - Tampa

Wednesday, Jun 14, 2023

Drain, Drug Church, Magnitude, Gel	Brass Mug - Tampa
Halocene, Lauren Babic, Alphamega	Level 13 - Orlando
The Convalescence, Summoner's Circle	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville
pulses., With Sails Ahead, I Met A Yeti	Will's Pub - Orlando

Thursday, Jun 15, 2023

Halocene, Lauren Babic, Alphamega	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville

Friday, Jun 16, 2023

Roxx, Re-Birth, Cyber Machine, Haloscars	Conduit - Winter Park
Hollow Leg, Clamfight, Moat Cobra	Will's Pub - Orlando
Every Avenue, Makeout, Say We Can Fly	Orpheum - Tampa

Saturday, Jun 17, 2023

Crossbreed, Cultus Black, Cypher machine, Davey Partain	Orpheum - Tampa
Defy the Tyrant, Losing Daylight, Shadow the Earth	Kona Skate Park - Jacksonville
Breed, Gillian Carter, Audible Parts	Will's Pub - Orlando

Sunday, Jun 18, 2023

Crossbreed, Cultus Black, NoSelf, The Dev	Level 13 - Orlando
Bodybox, No Zodiac, High Pressure	Conduit - Winter Park

Wednesday, Jun 21, 2023

Dream Theater, Devin Townsend, Animals As Leaders	Ruth Eckerd Hall - Clearwater

Thursday, Jun 22, 2023

Garbage, Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds, Metric	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Friday, Jun 23, 2023

Dream Theater, Devin Townsend, Animals As Leaders	Hard Rock Live - Orlando

Saturday, Jun 24, 2023

Misfits, Megadeth, Fear	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheater - Tampa
Intoxicated, Vacuous Depths, Ebullition	Conduit - Winter Park
black midi, YHWH Nailgun	Orpheum - Tampa

Sunday, Jun 25, 2023

No/Mas, Knoll	Conduit - Winter Park

Monday, June 26, 2023

We Are the Union, Kill Lincoln, Catbite	The Social - Orlando
No/Mas, Knoll	Orpheum - Tampa

Tuesday, Jun 27, 2023

Yungblud, The Regrettes, Caspr	Jannus - St. Petersburg

Wednesday, Jun 28, 2023

D.R.I., Metalriser	Underbelly - Jacksonville
Peter Frampton	St. Augustine Amphitheatre

Thursday, Jun 29, 2023

The Cure	Amalie Arena - Tampa
D.R.I., Metalriser	Will's Pub - Orlando

Saturday, Jul 1, 2023

D.R.I., Metalriser	Brass Mug - Tampa
Liliac, Fortune Child	The Twisted Fork - Port Charlotte

Sunday, Jul 2, 2023

Godflesh	Conduit - Winter Park

Thursday, Jul 6, 2023

Sad Summer Festival	Daily's Place Amphitheatre - Jacksonville

Friday, Jul 7, 2023

Sad Summer Festival	Coachman Park - Clearwater
Subdivisions, Violence System, The Fallen Sons	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville

Saturday, Jul 8, 2023

Memphis May Fire, Norma Jean, Secrets	The Beacham - Orlando

Sunday, Jul 9, 2023

Memphis May Fire, Norma Jean, Secrets	High Dive - Gainesville

Monday, Jul 10, 2023

blink-182, Turnstile	Amalie Arena - Tampa
Orthodox, Cell, Chamber	Crowbar - Tampa

Tuesday, Jul 11, 2023

Analepsy, Cognitive, Wormhole, Nectoricgorebeast	Conduit - Winter Park

Wednesday, Jul 12, 2023

Analepsy, Cognitive, Wormhole, Nectoricgorebeast	Crowbar - Tampa

Thursday, Jul 13, 2023

Staind	Seminole Hard Rock - Tampa

Friday, Jul 14, 2023

Staind	Hard Rock Live - Orlando

Saturday, Jul 15, 2023

Obituary	Brass Mug - Tampa

Monday, Jul 17, 2023

Cenotaph, Horrific Visions, Architectural Genocide	Conduit - Winter Park

Friday, Jul 21, 2023

Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Bryan Adams	Amalie Arena - Tampa
Mudvayne, Coal Chamber, Gwar, Nonpoint, Butcher Babies	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa
The Final Sound, Abbey Death, Layne Lyre	New World Music Hall - Tampa
Yosemite In Black, Endbringer, Murder Afloat	Orpheum - Tampa

Saturday, Jul 22, 2023

Yellowcard, Mayday Parade, Story of the Year	Daily's Place Amphitheatre - Jacksonville
Less Than Jake, Voodoo Glow Skulls, Devon Kay & the Solutions	House of Blues - Orlando
Rising Up Angry, Tragic, Legions Blind	Kona Skate Park - Jacksonville

Sunday, Jul 23, 2023

Yellowcard, Mayday Parade, Story of the Year	Yuengling Center - Tampa
Endbringer, Yosemite In Black, Heavy Hitter	1904 Music Hall - Jacksonville

Tuesday, Jul 25, 2023

Fall Out Boy, Bring Me The Horizon, Royal & The Serpent	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Thursday, Jul 27, 2023

Havok, Toxic Holocaust, I AM, Hammerhedd	Conduit - Winter Park

Friday, Jul 28, 2023

Between the Buried and Me, Rivers of Nihil, Thank you Scientist	Jannus - St. Petersburg

Saturday, Jul 29, 2023

Between the Buried and Me, Rivers of Nihil, Thank you Scientist	Beacham - Orlando
Southpaw, Highest Crown, Fortitude, Dead Mirrors	Born Free - Tampa

Sunday, Jul 30, 2023

Crobot, Rickshaw, Billie's Burger Patrol	Orpheum - Tampa

Thursday, Aug 3, 2023

Underoath, The Ghost Inside, We Came As Romans	Yuengling Center - Tampa

Saturday, Aug 5, 2023

Disturbed, Breaking Benjamin	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa
Underoath, The Ghost Inside, We Came As Romans	St. Augustine Amphitheatre
Sanguisugabogg, Kruelty, Vomit Forth	Conduit - Winter Park

Sunday, Aug 6, 2023

The Queers, The Radio Buzzkills, The Jasons	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville

Wednesday, Aug 9, 2023

Pyrexia, Cerebral Incubation, Atoll	Conduit - Winter Park

Friday, Aug 11, 2023

The All-American Rejects, New Found Glory, The Starting Line	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa
Black Flag	High Dive - Gainesville

Sunday, Aug 13, 2023

Alesana, Vampires Everywhere, Limbs	Level 13 - Orlando

Wednesday, Aug 16, 2023

The Offspring, Sum 41, Simple Plan	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa
hed p.e., Lydia can't Breathe, Razorz Edge	Jack Rabbits - Jacksonville

Sunday, Aug 20, 2023

The Smashing Pumpkins, Interpol, Rival Sons	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Tuesday, Aug 22, 2023

The Mezingers	Underbelly - Jacksonville

Wednesday, Aug 23, 2023

Bless The Fall, Caskets, Kingdom of Giants	Orpheum - Tampa

Thursday, Aug 24, 2023

Clutch, Giovanni & The Hired Guns, Mike Dillon	Jannus - St. Petersburg

Saturday, Aug 26, 2023

Rob Zombie, Alice Cooper, Ministry	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Wednesday, Aug 30, 2023

Ghost, Amon Amarth	Daily's Place Amphitheatre - Jacksonville

Thursday, Aug 31, 2023

Ghost, Amon Amarth	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Saturday, Sep 2, 2023

Baby Metal, Dethklok, Jason Richardson	Orlando Amphitheater

Sunday, Sep 3, 2023

Spitalfield, Rookie of the Year, The Future Perfect	Conduit - Winter Park

Tuesday, Sep 5, 2023

Bad Omens, ERRA, I See Stars	Jannus - St. Petersburg

Wednesday, Sep 6, 2023

Bad Omens, ERRA, I See Stars	House of Blues - Orlando

Friday, Sep 8, 2023

The Waning Moon, Palace of Tears, Rux Vendetta	Hooch & Hive - Tampa

Saturday, Sep 9, 2023

Kamelot, Battle Beast, Xandria	Hard Rock Live - Orlando

Sunday, Sep 10, 2023

Angelmaker, Vulvodynia, Flasifier	Conduit - Orlando

Wednesday, Sep 13, 2023

3 Doors Down, Candlebox	Daily's Place Amphitheatre - Jacksonville
Dance Gavin Dance, SiM, Rain City Drive	Hard Rock Live - Orlando

Friday, Sep 15, 2023

3 Doors Down, Candlebox	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Sunday, Sep 17, 2023

Avenged Sevenfold, Falling in Reverse	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa
Wave to Earth, slchld	Orpheum - Tampa

Tuesday, Sep 19, 2023

Scowl, Militarie Gun, MSPAINT	Conduit - Winter Park

Thursday, Sep 21, 2023

Scowl, Militarie Gun, MSPAINT	1904 Music Hall - Jacksonville

Friday, Sep 22, 2023

Cavalera Conspiracy, Exhumed, Incite	Beacham - Orlando

Sunday, Sep 25, 2023

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus	High Dive - Gainesville

Friday, Sep 29, 2023

CIRCLE JERKS, TSOL, Negative Approach	Underbelly - Jacksonville
Shinedown, Papa Roach, Spiritbox	MIDFLORIDA Credit Union Amphitheatre - Tampa

Saturday, Sep 30, 2023

NOFX	Vinoy Park - St. Petersburg
Flogging Molly, The Bronx	House of Blues - Orlando

Thursday, Oct 5-7, 2023

Absolution Fest	Crowbar - Tampa

Tuesday, Oct 10, 2023

Ne Obliviscaris, Beyond Creation, Persefone	Orpheum - Tampa

Wednesday, Oct 11, 2023

Ne Obliviscaris, Beyond Creation, Persefone	Conduit - Winter Park
Fit For a King, The Devil Wears Prada, Counterparts, Landmvrks	The Ritz - Tampa

Saturday, Oct 14, 2023

Beast in Black, Dance with the Dead	Orpheum - Tampa

Sunday, Oct 15, 2023

Beast in Black, Dance with the Dead	Conduit - Winter Park
Motionless In White, Knocked Loose, After the Burial, Alpha Wolf	Hard Rock Live - Orlando

Tuesday, Oct 17, 2023

Atilla, Gideon, Until I Wake, Ten56	Underbelly - Jacksonville

Wednesday, Oct 18, 2023

Atilla, Gideon, Until I Wake, Ten56	Orpheum - Tampa

Friday, Oct 27-29, 2023

The Fest	Gainesville

Tuesday, Nov 7, 2023

Protest the Hero, Moontooth	The Abbey - Orlando

Wednesday, Nov 8, 2023

Protest the Hero, Moontooth	Orpheum - Tampa

​

Company Name	Title	City
The Altoona Mirror	Inside Sales Agent	Altoona
Penn Cambria School District	HS SCIENCE TEACHER; SCHOOL PSYCHOLOGIST; HS ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL	Altoona
KANE BOROUGH	Police Officer	Bradford
KANE BOROUGH	School Resource Officer	Bradford
Penn Cambria School District	HS SCIENCE TEACHER; SCHOOL PSYCHOLOGIST; HS ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL	Cresson
Penn Cambria School District	Science Teacher	Cresson
Penn Cambria School District	Physical Science Teacher	Cresson
GoCertificatescom Inc	Notary Public-Online Notary	Huntingdon
KANE BOROUGH	School Resource Officer	Kane
KANE BOROUGH	Police Officer	Kane
KANE BOROUGH	Policeman	Kane
GoCertificatescom Inc	Notary	Lewistown
GoCertificatescom Inc	Notary Public-Online Notary	Lewistown
GoCertificatescom Inc	Notary Public	Lewistown
The Altoona Mirror	Inside Sales Multi-Media Consultant	Patton
United Refining Company	Order Clerk	Warren
Portage Area School District	Supervisor of Grounds and Maintenance	Altoona
ALCAS CORP. (CUTCO)	Call Center Generalist Vector	Clearfield
ALCAS CORP. (CUTCO)	Call Taker	Du Bois
ALCAS CORP. (CUTCO)	Call Center Generalist Vector	Du Bois
ALCAS CORP. (CUTCO)	Call Center Representative	Du Bois
Central Cambria School District	Social Studies Teacher	Ebensburg
Central Cambria School District	Sociology Teacher	Ebensburg
OTTO-ELDRED SCHOOL DIST.	Social Studies Teacher	Eldred
OTTO-ELDRED SCHOOL DIST.	Sociology Teacher	Eldred

Hey guys, here are some recent job openings , feel free to comment here if you have any questions, I'm at the community's disposal! If you encounter any problems with any of these job openings please let me know that I will modify the table accordingly. Thanks!

I recently took a position as an archivist in a museum centered around the world wars. My current task is digitalizing obituaries. I've been doing this for a couple of weeks now and it did someting to me. As of now I've seen hundreds of faces and names of soldiers who have fallen, most were in the age range of 18-30. Statistics became people, those numbers got faces and names. A lot coming from the countries neighbouring Germany were forced to join the Wehrmacht. So many were shot because they fled mobilisation, deserted or straight up refused to fight. I hate that we forget the individual and tarnish everyone with the same brush. The people have little to no choice in war time. Senseless blood shedding and pointless warmongering of their higher ups. The dehumanizing language used to justify the killings. Forgetting that your enemy is a human being just like you. We are all the same, we are all the same human. How can you point a rifle at someone without realizing you are looking into a mirror? Why shot yourself? Why shed senseless blood? Why play the game of people who have no respect for human life? I feel hopeless. (And no I DO NOT want to defend the nazi ideology with this or any ideology based on dehumanization for that matter)
Sorry if this doesn't make much sense but I am struggling to express my thoughts.

Original posts are from formula1, a subreddit dedicated to the FIA's F1 open-wheel racing series.
---

Astronaut F1 fan in need (not click bait) - (Oct 10, 2022)

Dear Reddit,
My name is Stacy, and I live in South Austin. My friend and former grad school advisor, Sam, is a long-time F1 racing fan. Unfortunately, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease last summer. Recently, I was shocked to learn that he has never been to a Formula 1 race in his life! Long story short, my husband and I were able to share our 4 tickets with him and his wife to attend this year’s US Grand Prix event in Austin.
He means a lot to me, really was like a father to me while I was in school - and has had an accomplished career as a scientist and NASA astronaut (been to space twice!). We want to make the experience extra special for him, while he can still enjoy it. He's a huge car guy and used to race in his younger days, so we'd love to get him up close to one of the cars, see the pit area, or -- shooting for the moon here, pun intended -- meet a driver. He is so excited just to be coming here, any extra experience would be amazing.
Does anyone know somebody or have contacts with F1 to make this happen for him?
We also are reaching out to folks at COTA -- just casting a wide net here -- to see if anyone can help. Thank you in advance!
PS - I can verify his and my identity privately if needed.
UPDATE: I spoke with Sam and his wife this afternoon. I told them about this post and the massive response it's gotten, they are just floored. I read some of the funny comments to them and they laughed. Thanks for everyone's positivity, efforts, and especially thanks for the pm's. Even if nothing comes of this, we still have our original seat tickets. I'll try to post pics and an update later! Thank you!
---

Follow-up to "Astronaut F1 fan in need" - Oct 30, 2022

We did it Reddit! THANK YOU!
TL;DR
I want to thank everyone who upvoted my original post and spread the word on Twitter about Sam Durrance and him attending his first F1 race (Austin GP). He's been following F1 since he was 4 years old (he's 79 now) but has never attended a race, and was diagnosed with Alzheimer's last summer. I shared my tickets with him, and reached out on here and Twitter to see if we could make the experience extra special, and we did! Let's just say he had a smile plastered on his face the entire weekend!
Our Race Story
At first I wasn't sure if posting on Reddit was a good idea-- I'm a private person and I generally don't like the spotlight. But I love this man like a father, and I'm glad I took a chance, and ESPECIALLY that you all took a chance on us too. THANK YOU from me and my DH, Sam, and his wife.
As some of you guessed, the man in question is Dr. Sam Durrance. He was a payload specialist on Astro-1 (Columbia, 1990) and Astro-2 (Endeavour, 1995). He and his wife Becky, were thrilled to come to the USGP. After I posted, COTA reached out and they offered us tickets to the pit walk on Thursday afternoon. We went directly from the airport to the track! Sam really got a kick watching the teams practice tire changes. Even if that was all that happened, we would have been happy.
In addition, one of the Alpine team NDT technicians, Matt, had reached out via PM to offer a personal tour of their garage. Being a technical and instrument guy, we knew Sam would LOVE this, so we conspired (with his wife) to surprise him. We took him to Alpine’s garage during the pit walk, and they opened the fence to let us though. The staff was kind and amazing. Since Sam was a racer back in his younger days, they gave him the full technical tour, which he followed closely and really enjoyed. The Alpine staff was asking him questions about his experiences in space, and they loved his stories, too. They even let him hold Esteban Ocon’s steering wheel!
While all this was going on, my dear husband, who I love, wondered out loud “I wish we could meet a driver.” Another technician heard, and 2 minutes later, out walks Esteban Ocon, who is actually a giant. Esteban spent a few minutes talking to Sam. They were both smiling a LOT.
To thank them, Sam’s wife Becky, gave Matt and Esteban patches from Sam’s shuttle missions. We found out later that Ocon said it was really cool that he got to meet an astronaut. And that made me very happy. They gave us Alpine hats, which we wore proudly for the entire weekend. We cheered hard for Ocon and Alonso (despite side mirror shenanigans).
In the end we made it to FP2, all of Quali, and the driver parade and race. This experience also brought Sam and I closer together, and strengthened the bond between our families. Becky especially wanted me to express how extremely special this was for Sam, and that she could not have done for him on her own. Now he's home, and he won't stop talking about it to anyone that will listen. "He won't ever forget this."
I want to thank COTA and Alpine Racing for making Sam’s first F1 race an amazing experience. My husband and I will always have a special place in our hearts for Alpine Racing and Reddit. I pretty much despise social media, but y'all have restored my faith that such power can be used for good, not evil.
Race day (Sam and Becky Durrance in the stands)
Race day
Alpine garage tour (OOP and Sam posing with Esteban Ocon in the Alpine garage)
Ocon's new shuttle patches (Esteban Ocon displaying two space shuttle patches from Sam)
Thursday pit walk (OOP, Sam, and Becky posing in the pit lane)
Sam can drive! (Sam holding an Alpine steering wheel)
---

Astronaut F1 fan in need - conclusion - May 5, 2023

Dear Reddit,
I'm sad to share the news that my beloved friend and mentor, a two-time astronaut and lifelong F1 fan, Dr. Sam Durrance, 79, passed away today. After being hospitalized for a fall, he soon entered hospice care, while his family and friends visited for comfort and farewells. He passed away peacefully near his home in Florida, surrounded by family.
His F1-related legacy on Reddit started with a request from me here in formula1, to help make his first ever in-person race attendance extra special. Thanks to you, Reddit, we did it. I'm told by a mutual friend that in his last days of consciousness, he had a few lucid moments; during one of the visitations, he reminisced about his days as a young man racing cars and working on engines -- and then re-told the story of his trip to the Austin GP last year. Even with Alzheimer's, a horrible disease that so viciously attacks short term memory, that experience was so powerful, he carried it to his final moments.
I'm so grateful this community rallied to upvote, comment, forward, and repost to make that happen for him. You made a difference in all our lives, and his family and mine thank you. Deepest heartfelt thanks especially to Matt ( u/mattbrom ), BWT Alpine F1 Team, and Ms. Fuentes at COTA.
Here is an obituary.
Here is the family statement (in comments).
Photo of OOP, Sam, and Becky posing with an Alpine front wing

If you want to receive this as a daily email in your inbox, you can now join at this link

worldnews

• HarakenQQ

Bakhmut on fire: Russia uses phosphorus bombs en masse
Comments Link

• 9lobaldude

Moldovan President: We’re only safe thanks to Ukraine, Russia wants to remake the Soviet Union
Comments Link

• vwb2022

Father of the school shooter in Serbia has been arrested and is on trial for allowing his son access to guns and ammunition
Comments Link

news

• Earthling1a

Fox Sends Cease-And-Desist Letter To Media Matters Over Leaked Tucker Carlson Videos; Media Watchdog Responds
Comments Link

• gravitasgamer

DeSantis signs bill allowing Florida board to cancel Disney deals
Comments Link

• qbak

Madison Cawthorn pleads guilty in case over bringing a loaded handgun through TSA checkpoint
Comments Link

science

• adosculation

The US firearm purchasing surge that began in 2020 has seen an unprecedented number of firearms purchases. A study (N=6404) finds surge purchasers have high intolerance of uncertainty and threat sensitivity compared with non-firearm owners and firearm owners who did not purchase during the surge.
Comments Link

• Wagamaga

A new population-based study, involving 22 million people, shows that autoimmune disorders now affect around one in ten individuals. These conditions pose a huge burden on individuals and upon wider society and currently represent an enormous unmet clinical need.
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• hateiseasier

High-Fat-Sugar Diet is Associated with Impaired Hippocampus-Dependent Memory in Humans
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space

• jivatman

Europe will Introduce a Reusable Launch Vehicle in the 2030s, says Arianespace CEO
Comments Link

• JustAnotherAviatrix

Sam Durrance, astronaut who flew with telescope he built, dies at 79.
Comments Link

• iboughtarock

The first clear evidence of active volcanism on Venus is presented, based on a reanalysis of old images from the Magellan spacecraft. The new research suggests that Venus has at least 85,000 volcanoes on its surface, and potentially even more smaller ones.
Comments Link

Futurology

• Gari_305

An Entire Generation is Studying for Jobs that Won't Exist
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Starting an online business has become increasingly popular over the past few years because it gives business owners access to a global market, allows them to work from anywhere, and gives them financial independence. However, starting an online business from scratch can be overwhelming, especially for people who have little or no digital experience. To succeed, you want to have an unmistakable arrangement, a strong groundwork, and a development mentality. In this article, we will give common sense tips on the most proficient method to design and develop your web-based business without any preparation.
Determining your niche and audience is the first step in starting an online business. You want to comprehend what items or administrations you are offering, who your ideal clients are, and what interesting incentives you can offer. You must build a website, optimize it for search engines, and establish your social media presence after determining your niche. You can then begin creating content, growing your email list, and utilizing a variety of channels to promote your brand.

Tips to Plan and Grow Your Business from Scratch:

1. Identify your Niche and Develop a Unique Brand Idea

When starting an online business, it’s important to pick a niche and come up with a unique brand idea. It is essential to select a market segment that piques your interest and has the potential for expansion. Your specific area of interest is known as your niche. Whenever you’ve recognized your specialty, you can begin fostering an exceptional brand thought that separates you from your rivals. To recognize your specialty, you ought to explore your interest group, investigate your rivals, and survey the interest for your items or administrations. For statistical surveying, you can utilize online assets like Google Patterns, web-based entertainment stages, and online gatherings. Understanding your interest group’s necessities, inclinations, and issues will assist you with recognizing market holes that you can fill.

1. Choose a Perfect Domain Name

Shorter domain names that are easy to type and remember are more effective at attracting potential visitors to your website. If you choose a name that is simple and easy to pronounce, visitors who are not native English speakers may have a harder time remembering your domain name. To make it simpler for individuals to find, don’t utilize numbers, dashes, or shoptalk in your area name. To make a novel and important name, your space name ought to mirror your image and message. Keywords, phrases, and brand names can all be used to create a domain name that accurately reflects your mission and brand. Also, think about the domain extension and pick one that works for your audience and brand. The .com augmentation is the most well-known, however different expansions like .organization or .net might be more appropriate contingent upon your business type. Last but not least, before selecting your preferred domain name, always confirm its availability. To find a feasible and particular choice, you could need to take a stab at utilizing an alternate expansion or adding a prefix or postfix. You can easily find numerous domain names for sale on various hosting service providers’ websites.

1. Concentrate on Content Marketing

Content marketing is a powerful strategy that can help you get and keep customers, spread your brand’s name, and become an expert in your field. You can drive more sales, generate leads, and increase website traffic by creating high-quality, valuable content that addresses the needs and interests of your target audience. A content strategy that is in line with your company’s objectives and target audience is the first step in focusing on content marketing. The kinds of content you’ll produce, the subjects you’ll cover, and the distribution channels you’ll use should all be part of your content strategy. You can utilize apparatuses like Google Examination, web-based entertainment bits of knowledge, and catchphrase exploration to distinguish the most important subjects and watchwords for your interest group.

1. Understand Your Audience and Expand Your Reach

Arranging and growing your online business requires a careful comprehension of your main interest group. Your target audience is the group of people who are most likely to be interested in your products or services. By figuring out their requirements, inclinations, and problem areas, you can fit your promoting endeavors to more readily associate with them and drive more changes. You need to do thorough research and get as much information as you can about your audience’s demographics, interests, behaviors, and reasons for doing things. You can utilize online apparatuses and assets to break down your site traffic, virtual entertainment commitment, and client criticism. Qualitative data about your target audience can also be gathered with the help of focus groups, surveys, and interviews.

1. Invest in Video Marketing

Regardless of the circumstances, video marketing has become an unstoppable method for businesses to communicate with their core audience, cultivate brand awareness, and effect change. Video content is a great asset to have in your arsenal of marketing tools because it is becoming easier to share via online entertainment, websites, and other computerized platforms. You should first identify your target audience and create video content that appeals to them before investing in video marketing. This could take the form of product reviews, instructional videos, client obituaries, or a foundation film that demonstrates your image’s personality and values. You can also use live video streaming to interact with your audience in real time and build a stronger connection with them.

Conclusion

Starting a new online business requires planning, perseverance, and dedication. You can build a solid foundation for your business by determining your niche, coming up with a distinctive concept for your brand, and concentrating on content marketing. Also, grasping your crowd, growing your span, and putting resources into video showcasing can assist you with acquiring traffic and further develop your image permeability. Make sure to use a domain service provider like Godomainers to confirm the availability of the ideal domain name that best represents your brand.
GoDomainers is a platform that you want to visit on the off chance that you believe your business should have an online presence. They offer a variety of services, including the sale of websites, the acquisition of premium after-market domains, and assistance with domain acquisition. Their team of experts assists individuals and businesses in selecting and registering the ideal domain name for their website. With their extensive scope of administrations and skill, GoDomainers is a phenomenal choice for anybody hoping to lay out or extend their web-based presence.
Source: https://godomainers.blogspot.com/2023/04/how-to-plan-and-grow-your-online.html

A

Aching arms arose, aggressively grabbing Alice, as an agonizing scream echoed across the abandoned asylum. Amidst the appalling aroma of ancient, decomposing bodies, Alice's anguished cries attracted more attention.

B

Billy's basement boasted a bizarre bazaar, brimming with bizarre baby dolls. But, in the blackness behind the boxes, buried beneath the broken dolls, was Billy's biggest secret: his brother's body.

C

Chilling cries carried through the catacombs, causing Claire's courage to crumble completely. Crawling cautiously, Claire encountered a cadaver, clawing itself closer with its cold, calcified fingers.

D

Dark, deafening drums dominated Dave's dreams, driving him to deep despair. Dave didn't dare discover the demonic dance happening directly beneath his dwelling.

E

Eerily echoing, Emma's excruciating execution emanated from the empty estate's electric chair. Each excruciating zap etched itself into her essence, ensuring her eternal entrapment in endless agony.

F

Fearing the faceless figure that followed him, Frank fled through the fog-filled forest. Frantically, he fell, feeling the figure's frigid fingers fasten around his fragile neck.

G

Gasping, Grace glimpsed grotesque ghouls gnawing on gnarled, gangrenous limbs in the graveyard. Gruesome growls grew louder, as the ghouls gathered, gravitating towards Grace's gut-wrenching terror.

H

Haunted by hellish hallucinations, Helen hurried home, hoping for help. Horrifyingly, Helen's hallucinations had become her harsh reality, hounding her at her haven.

I

Inescapable insanity imprisoned Isaac, immersing him in illusions of indescribable, insatiable insects. Itching incessantly, he involuntarily inflicted injuries upon himself, ignorant of the insects' illusory existence.

J

Jittery, Jane jumped at the jarring jingles jingling just outside her jeopardized bedroom. Just as she jolted the door, a jagged, bloodied jester jawed, "Join us, Jane," before jerking her away.

K

Keenly aware of the killer's kerosene-kissed knife, Kate kept completely still, knowing any noise would give her away. Kate's kitten, Krissy, carelessly knocked over a kettle, making Kate's heart skip a beat, as the killer's laughter echoed throughout the kitchen.

L

Locked in the labyrinthine library, Liam listened to the lacerating laments of the long-lost souls lurking nearby. With each lugubrious wail, Liam's life force ebbed away, leaving him languishing in limbo.

M

Maddeningly, the mirror mimicked Marcy’s every move, except one. Mirthlessly, it mouthed, "Murder," as Marcy's mother materialized behind her.

N

Nightmarish noises navigated through the narrow, nefarious nooks of Natalie's new home, negating her naive notions of normalcy. Noticing a nauseating, necrotic odor, she neared the nursery, only to find the newborn's lifeless body nestled in a nest of nightcrawlers.

O

Oliver opened the ominous letter, only to observe his own obituary. Overcome with terror, he overlooked the obnoxious odor of the oncoming assailant.

P

Panic pervaded the party as the poltergeist perpetrated pandemonium. Petrified, Patrick perished, pinned beneath the plummeting piano.

Q

Quietly quivering, Quentin questioned the quixotic, quivering figure in the queue. Quicker than Quentin could react, the figure's quest for Quentin's quintessence quenched.

R

Ravenous, the revenant roamed, relentlessly rending the remnants of Rebecca's resistance. Reality receded as Rebecca relinquished her reason, relinquished to the revenant's reign.

S

Silence suffocated Sarah's scream as she stared at the sinister silhouette. Suddenly, the serrated scalpel sliced through her shivering skin.

T

Trembling, Tom trudged toward the towering, twisted tree. Tendrils tore through his torso, the tree thirsting for more.

U

Unsettled, Ursula uncovered the unnatural, undulating mass under her bed, the unholy stench of decay filling the air. Unseen hands unfurled from the writhing pile, urging Ursula into the underworld's unyielding embrace.

V

Vexed, Vanessa viewed the vile visage in the vacant window. Veins pulsated, and voracious hands violently violated her vitality.

W

Whispers wound through the woods, weaving their way into Wendy's weary mind, warping her perception of reality. Wrenched from her world, she wandered, forever lost, within a wicked, wraith-infested wilderness.

X

Xavier’s xenophobic tendencies exacerbated his anxiety in the x-ray room. X-ray images exposed his xiphoid process—only, the xiphoid was moving, writhing within.

Y

Yanking at the yellowed yarn, Yasmine yelped as the yarn yanked back, yanking her into the yawning abyss below. Yearning for escape, Yasmine yielded to the inescapable darkness, her yells echoing through the years.

Z

Zara's zealous curiosity led her to the ziggurat's zenith, only to find the zombified zealots of the forgotten cult. With a zephyr-like movement, they ensnared her, initiating a zealous new disciple.
​
⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤

Prompt

Write a collection of 26 two-sentence horror stories, where each story begins with a word that starts with a specific letter of the alphabet. The stories should be aimed at adults and can cover a range of themes and motifs, including but not limited to ghosts, monsters, and serial killers. There are no specific constraints or requirements on the format, tone, or atmosphere of the stories, but each story should be suspenseful, graphic, and psychological in nature. All of the stories should feel like a completed two-sentence horror story. They should leave the reader feeling concerned or gasping from the realization of what is occurring in each two-sentence horror story. The words in each two-sentence should start with the same letter. For example, the first story will have words beginning with the letter A, the second story will have words beginning with the letter B, etc. Words that don't start with the same letter can be included to make the stories more terrifying. For example, words like "the", "and", "but", "says", etc can be used in the stories regardless of the letter. At least 75% of the words in each story should start with the same letter. 

First and foremost, a special shout-out to his kin, supporters, friends, fellow warriors, to his Traditional Way and to those whom know this story all too well. R.I.P. brother, thank you for being as strong as you were and confronting what was once the most harmful police in all of North America at the time. And also, let’s not forget the other’s known to have died but never got justice. Neil Stonechild, Rodney Naistus, Lawrence Wegner and to the friends of mine who went through plenty of pain delivered by that policing community of that era.
Darrell Night, a First Nation’s Man, would find himself in the back of a police car with police officers Dan Hatchhen and Ken Munson on a typical Saskatchewan cold night. He would then have to seek safety after being dropped off by said police officers with many believing that he was left for dead. Knight would dig deep down into the warrior that he (was) is and would find a way out. Over the next while, he would keep hush about this experience – he would need to go into hiding because they sought him out and this next part is why I am sharing.
Night would run into a family member of mine and share what had happened to him and along with his supporters, my family would also encourage him to seek justice which wasn’t immediate because at the time, we already knew of many whom were dying and many who survived. You see, there are far more experiences not shared due to normalization of behavior towards Indigenous People, mostly consisting of men – but there are plenty of scenarios where women would face similar abuse if not worse (see John Martin Crawford and a certain disciplined officer in 1976.)
I remember coming to the city from the next province over just to take part in one of the very first walks of solidarity towards confronting a grossly misconduct practicing police force. I remember walking with my family and it was late in the evening. We started at the school and began the 400+ people walk in solidarity to confront police misconduct and unfair criminality against Indigenous People. As we were walking, I personally never felt so proud in my life but I also felt fear and it wasn’t because the police were going to get at us, gosh no. We were all desensitized by then, but I felt fear for them. I wasn’t sure if the cops were going to get out of the way as we got closer and closer to the first police vehicle. They weren’t aware immediately of this walk-in-solidarity. But yes - there would be a man leading the crowd of supporters, victims, elders and youth and others from almost every demographic in the province of that time.
That guy leading the pack would signal for the officers to get out of the way and they wouldn’t and a sweat broke out on my forehead because I was thinking “are we really going to keep pushing through even if the officers don’t move?” As we got closer they moved and my heart settled and I knew we were going to be okay after that. What that first police vehicle was doing was setting up a barrier to keep vehicles from coming from that certain direction. I remember being cold because this was February and we all know the temp for SK at that time of year is but for me I understood that it was mostly a tribute to understand, at the absolute very least, that this is what all those Indigenous children and men and women went through. It was beautiful but also traumatic.
As we neared that cop vehicle I heard some say “let’s tip that f***** over” while looking at a bus but peace prevailed. Some yelled “we don’t need your help, **off” and “You’ve done enough already.” I can assure you it was powerful. We get to the police station and the drum starts and the singing begins. The honor songs are sung and the sounds of pride are loud. They brought the warrior out of us all that night – the irony, right. That experience is still as vibrant in me today as it was that night. I knew no one could ever hurt me again and that’s how I felt. I came out of that a changed person with a new view. I finally looked into the mirror and said “hey, you’re an Indian too.” (That was said with my other experience in school in welcoming my place as a bonafide Treaty Indian.)
And the main reasons for myself sharing personally is I was a kid during that era and I happened to be in and out of that city at the time – and all of us teens knew about all the incidents prior and played it off as a normal day in the hood because it was either jail or misconduct and most of the people I personally knew chose misconduct nine times out of ten. They’d rather take that abuse, even as kids, then face the system which was ironically already oppressing the locals. We all saw Dan and Ken out there before this incident and after as well. They were vicious and cold. Hatchen abused his role in society and Munson was just as corrupt – remember, Munson was an officer outside of this country and he had a temper that was borderline bipolar. He could turn his psychotic nature off and on at the snap of a finger. Also, it wasn’t just the Starlight Tours - and I hope those other stories come out one day.
We knew of all this which was happening but when a society oppresses a focused group, even we don’t take that misconduct serious because we didn’t walk with value in ourselves. This behavior was extremely normalized and even today, there are still many out there who are experiencing that very same impropriety. However, if I don’t include this next part then why would I write anything in the first place? I am aware of the positive union taking place between the Indigenous community and policing services. There’s a great conversation going on and I truly hope they keep that relationship going. It was said to me “They were never like this before. But now we can walk around.” And you know, after hearing that I had to take a moment to digest that because why would we be happy just too finally be allowed to walk around? You know why – that behavior harmed us in a bad way. So when this person said that, yea. I took a second to hear that person’s comment because we should have never felt afraid to walk anywhere in the first place - right.
Yea….
RIP to the bro and all his. Thank you for being strong for all of us. And thank you to leadership in both the police setting and City Hall – you’re doing great work. Keep it going.
Sources: https://saskatchewanstarlighttours.weebly.com/?
https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/north-battleford-sk/darrell-night-11250787
https://www.inclusivecanada.org/post/starlight-tours
https://thestarphoenix.com/opinion/columnists/tank-george-floyd-protest-issues-prevalent-in-saskatoon
https://www.pressreader.com/canada/saskatoon-starphoenix/20200608/281646782371009
https://vitacollections.ca/sixnationsarchive/details.asp?ID=3233606

Horror is subjective, there's no denying that. I have told my story to others over the years, to which some have claimed that it was no more than a sob story, dressed up as horror. As I said; subjective. Were I to tell you of the molestation my father's brother forced upon me, before I was old enough for my mind to even be able to rationalize it, I would imagine this would not quite qualify as horrific, to some. To me, it most certainly was, but to a reader, perhaps, not quite. Of course, this is only the beginning of my tale.
My childhood home was located in a small town on the outskirts of London. When my father; who was not expected to return to the house for many hours, as he was attending a very important business meeting in the city, arrived back home, just in time to witness my uncle's abuse first hand, I bore witness to a very different brand of horror; one far more akin to the more traditional expectations of the genre, I would think. Though he used no more than his bare hands to subdue his older brother, there was very little life left in the man by the time my father summoned the authorities to our home.
The police were remarkably understanding about the actions of my father, so he would face no prison time for leaving my uncle bound to a hospital bed for a great many months, though the events which played out before my eyes left quite the stain on my already troubled soul. Though tears filled my eyes due to what my uncle forced upon me, I can still clearly see the pounding of my father's fists splashing scarlet streams across the walls. Yes, I could describe to you in vivid detail, the swollen and splitting flesh of my abuser's face, tearing away in grisled chunks as my father waged his rage-fueled assault, but that would be far more gratuitous than necessary. Again, perhaps more to the liking of those looking for a more expected horror story, but still unnecessary.
Only months after that day, we fled the country, with my parents hopeful that I could push these memories away into the black. We relocated to the states, where both my mother and father would go on to find far more lucrative employment than they had previously achieved. My father was something of a businessman, though I cannot tell you much more than that, as I cared little for such things in my youth. My mother was a teacher, finding her place amongst the faculty of a well respected college just outside of the town in which we lived. I will neither include the name of the school, nor the city in question, for reasons you may understand quite soon.
I was nearing twelve when I awoke in the middle of the night, due to the nightmares which still haunted me in the dark, while I lay still behind the protective comfort of my closed eyelids. As I sat straight up in my bed, still reeling from the distorted memories of the troubled times gone by, I noticed the light beaming from the red painted shed which rested behind my home, through the window parallel to my bed. Though the terrors of my youth left me skittish and weary of just about everything, I was also overburdened with a growing curiosity for anything that struck my mind to be of interest. As such, I took it upon myself to investigate the small wooden building my parents would keep hidden from me behind a large, metal padlock.
I crept down the stairs, in hopes of not alerting my guardians to my late night curiosities. I slowly flipped the locks of the backdoor, before gently turning the knob to grant me entry to the outside world. As I drew closer to the shed, I heard sounds both familiar and foreign to me, along with almost unnaturally muffled voices. The dark curtains covering the windows allowed me no way of seeing through; only the light which shone from behind and around them. It would seem; should I hope to quench the thirst of my curious mind, I would have little choice but to enter. The lock had been removed from the clasp, which splayed open beside the door, leading me to believe it had either been left this way by my parents, or by someone forcing their way into the wooden building.
Though my skin trembled, both with anticipation and fear in equal amounts, I reached a shaky hand to the latch of the simple door. As I slowly turned the handle, pulling the door ajar, I felt my jaw hang wide, while the blood drained from the upper half of my body. The young woman whom I had never before laid eyes on, was strapped to a long table, with her right arm and both thighs bound by thick, leather straps. She feebly moaned through the rag which had seemingly been forced into her mouth, while my father sliced through her flesh before me. He had not noticed my arrival, as he appeared fully consumed by the task at hand.
He wore blue, denim overalls, which were spattered with both dried and fresh specs of crimson and ruby red stains. The blade within his grasp was long and jagged, causing sounds not unlike the tearing of thick fabric while he sawed into her. Her movements were only subtle, as there was very little holding her together into one solid structure anymore, and I had to believe her suffering had almost come to a close. There were deep gashes all over her, along with wide and grisled open holes where clumps of flesh and muscle once sat in place, now layering the plastic lined floor.
Both of her legs had been removed below the knee, while my father worked on separating her left arm at the shoulder. As the bone and tissue finally gave way, I audibly gasped as the arm fell to meet the discarded legs and meaty shrapnel on the floor. When my father turned to face me with streams of scarlet across his face, his own jaw fell wide upon meeting my trembling gaze. He dropped his blood soaked blade to the floor, while slowly pacing towards me with his arms outstretched and his eyes wide and glassy. I had not even realized the burgeoning scream which bellowed out from within me had already been lurking in my throat in preparation for its release.
As I fled from the man who now softly called my name into the night, my wailing yells awoke an array of sounds through the sporadic neighborhood in which my home was located. Though the other houses were many yards apart from one another, some of their inhabitants creaked open their doors as I ran flailing through the chilly night air. My father, still in pursuit, and still clothed in his blood stained garments, came to a halt as an elderly man wrapped his arms around me, lifting me from the centerline of the two lane road which ran between the scattered buildings.
My father stopped in place, gazing into the eyes of the man who held me; guarding me against the one he believed sought to bring me harm. The hours that followed faded into a blur before me. Once more, the authorities arrived at the home I shared with my loving parents; this time to transport the one who saved me from my uncle's ravagings, to a far less than enviable and uncertain future. The investigation and subsequent trial which followed did not last long, as my father took little time in confessing to all seventeen of the lives he had taken, even those he had ended before our trip across the Atlantic.
How many years he had been feeding his impulses this way, I cannot say, but it was a truly devastating revelation to my mother and I, along with many more who had grown to respect him over the years. Before his trial resulted in an impending death sentence, the denizens of the small city in which we lived had already begun to wage a war fueled by fear and hatred against my mother and I. Though my father had proved to be quite the wretched individual, his more legal ventures over the years had left us a great deal of financial stability. This would enable us to make our way to another town; one far away from those who considered us to be as guilty as my father.
As the years progressed, the word of my father's foul deeds reached our new home, garnering my mother and I another assault of hatred and mockery, ultimately leading to my witnessing yet another gruesome sight upon opening a door. The shotgun my mother used to end her life had left very little of her head intact, which was the very first thing that greeted me on my arrival back home after school ended that day, only weeks before my fifteenth birthday. I can't exactly say how long I stood there, under the frame of that splayed open entryway. I was still in a daze while I reached for the phone to beckon one more visit from the authorities.
Their interrogations lasted for hours, during which I was only vaguely coherent. I even found myself locked away in my own cell for a time, though mine was lined with padded walls, as opposed to the metal bars which held my father in place, until the electricity would course through his body. I didn't find myself relocated to that dismal place at first, though. It wasn't until I made my own efforts to put a permanent end to the memories which plagued me, that I was bound in a buckled jacket and led to the place which would serve as my home for some years. While my mother had dramatically taken her life by blasting her head into little more than scattered fragments of bloodied skull, I merely sliced through the veins which lay beneath the flesh of my wrists. I vividly remember fading away into the black, before I found my eyelids springing back open, with my body strapped to the rolling gurnee.
For some years, I remained in that room before I was considered fit to live among the free. My time spent there allowed me the opportunity to mend my weary mind and troubled thoughts to a point, though I cannot claim I am not still haunted by the events which put my childhood to rest. I can honestly say that the doctors who treated me during my stay in the secluded facility, did manage to break me free from the protective shell I had forged around myself, though I may not have been as mentally sound as I led them to believe. Still, had it not been for their intervention, I would surely have made further efforts to end my suffering far sooner.
Once I was permitted to leave the institution, I was finally ready to make my own way in this world. I was nearing nineteen years of age, so I would be able to claim what remained of my father's fortune. My mother had apparently put a great deal of planning into her departure from this world, having transferred her accounts into one under my name. Though our cross country relocation, along with the subsequent years she and I had spent attempting to hide from my father's legacy, had depleted them somewhat, there was still more than enough for me to make my way back to my home country, while affording me my own house upon my arrival.
Though I was unsure if the tales of my father's nefarious actions would follow me back to the town I was born into, I made sure to legally change my name, in hopes of avoiding any association with the man. Given the fact that I was unsure of exactly when my father had begun feeding his impulses, I did not wish to carry his surname back to a place it may be all too familiar. Though life progressed far less chaotically than my childhood years had, I cannot claim that I was particularly content. Yes, I was still financially stable, but I could not quite find my place in this world.
Now, I have little doubt that any of you who may still be reading these words would consider anything I have shared to be especially horrific. Yes, I have witnessed more than my share of mangled husks of human flesh and bone; far more so than the average person, I would think, but does this qualify my tale to be one of horrors? Perhaps not. We all have our share of demons, lurking in the dark corners of our rooms and homes. We have all experienced troubling times; during which we could never conceive of a world in which we did not suffer. I'm sure there are many who have witnessed far more horrendous sights than those I have described through these handful of paragraphs, and I do not doubt that there are far greater threats hiding away, just to the side of where we are looking. Still, my story has not come to a close just yet.
As the years continued to trickle by, I found myself growing more and more devoid of emotion. My mornings would each share a similar battle, during which I would consider whether or not it would be worth my time to break free from my warm bed; to face the outside world once more. Though I would inevitably emerge from within the safety of my blankets, I lacked the drive to do anything productive with my time. I had considered seeking employment, though I had little in the way of skills or experience to garner much interest from prospective employers. After weeks turned to months, I began to find my old friend; despair, wrapping its tendrils around me once more.
My second effort to end my suffering was far less dramatic than my first; involving little more than a bottle of pills I purchased from a stranger who beckoned to me from a street corner one rainy evening. Within only minutes of my ingesting the twenty or so little green pills, my head felt almost blissfully loopy and light. Moments later, I felt my body droop, growing weaker and more disconnected from my brain by the second. I can't speak to how much time passed by before the world spun around me, causing me to feel almost weightless as my senses were consumed by the black once more. For that brief moment; as I careened into glorious darkness, I felt more free and filled with glee than I had ever known. As with all of the fleeting moments of joy my life had shown me, this too was to be short lived.
When my eyes blinked back to awareness, I lay still on my comfortable bed, momentarily confused by the events which led me there. Though I fully recalled my purchase of the bottle of little green pills, I could find absolutely no evidence they had ever existed. I patrolled the area at which I had been beckoned by the stranger, to find as little trace of him as the bottle which I knew to have fallen from my fingertips as life drained out of me. Could this series of events have been no more than a manifestation from my subconscious mind while I slept; perhaps to convince me that this was not the answer to what ails me? I could find no other rationalization, leaving me little choice but to continue plundering through the daily life I had grown to detest.
It would be the following year before I came to face my inevitable end for a third time, though it would not be delivered by my own hands, but a large SUV which careened through the crosswalk I was making my way across. I was not alone as I traversed the busy streets of London that day; accompanied by many strangers across the striped lines dividing the traffic on either side. I have quite the remarkable memory. I will not use such words as photographic or eidetic or anything so grandiose, but I can recall many things in vivid detail. I can still feel the sensation of my skull cracking across the windshield of the tall, blue colored vehicle. When I close my eyes, I can still see the attractive blonde woman falling lifeless next to where I lay bleeding on the concrete ground. When I awakened the following day; once more under my warm comforter, I had no doubt this most recent passing from this world was no simple dream.
As I lay there dwelling on the troubling life which I desperately craved a release from, I could not help but wonder if I was somehow immune to the powers of death himself. Since I had not fulfilled much schooling through the chaotic events which plagued my youth, perhaps I had not gained enough of a learned experience on why this was such a preposterous concept to consider. It was that very internal argument which led me to seek out further education. Though my father's nest egg still provided anything I may have need of, I had to consider that this would not carry me much further in life. Were I continue to be unable to seek an end to my pain, I would have little choice but to continue living. My desire to endure life had not gained any momentum, regardless of freeing myself from the torment of my youth, but it would appear I had little choice in the matter.
I enrolled myself in a wide array of classes to further my limited education; some of which I truly enjoyed. My studies finally provided me an escape from the misery I had allowed to consume me for far too long, while surrounding me with others; some of whom I would go on to befriend. Those early days were the most difficult, as I had barely interacted with anyone in many years, outside of the passing relationships formed with those tending the counters of the local shops I would frequent for necessities.
I grew quite close to my new friends; Clarence and Rory over the years I spent attending classes in their company. They would go on to be the only confidants I had ever known, outside of those who watched over me during my stay in that padded cell so many years before. Rory was the older of us, and something of a philosopher in the way he thought and spoke, though we would often find ourselves chuckling at his more conspiracy fueled theories of life, the universe and everything. Clarence was something of a comedian, as well as the athletic one of our humble trio, but we all had common ground in the tragedies which lay our childhoods to rest. I will not reveal the events which still plagued their troubled minds, as it is not my story to tell, though their respective histories did pave the groundwork for the bonds we formed.
After our shared schooling ended, we went on to form a simple web design firm together. It was nothing especially profitable at first, but it allowed us a great deal of freedom in having no strict schedules to meet, depending on what our clients would require at the time, of course. Within a few years, we had forged quite a decent living through our ventures and, with my friends by my side, I finally looked forward to what tomorrow may hold. It was a feeling I had never before known; to no longer seek to end my dreary existence, but to look upon the future with hope. When Elenor walked through the door of our shared office space on that unusually warm September's day, I found yet another reason to feel joy in a world I had not long since reluctantly chosen to join.
She too had not been expecting to find love that day; only to commission our services to build her a website for her own budding venture. Of course, it took me some time, and a great deal of encouragement from my friends to gather the courage to suggest we take things beyond a business relationship. This would also not take place until said business was behind us, as I would not overstep until the work had reached its end. I could waffle on for hours about her beautiful, beaming smile, twinkling, deep brown eyes, glowing dark skin and thick, wavy hair, but again, this is not necessary. The only thing of relevance is that I loved her, perhaps from that very first moment the wind from the open doorway tussled her hair while she fought to control it, accompanied by a genuine giggle.
Within six months, we married, and after another year, we were to be parents. It is true that we may have rushed things, just a bit, but we knew this was real. I had never imagined such happiness could exist in a world which left me begging for the sweet release of death in my youth. Of course, it's during those happier times when we find the ground crumbling beneath our feet. Now, I would imagine, whoever may still be reading along at this point may be questioning why a story claiming to be one of horrors would waste so much time touching on the brief moments of happiness. In addition, I would think many of you may find your eyes rolling at what comes next.
Yes, everything I have presented you with so far, is not particularly difficult to believe, thus lending credence to the idea that this is no horror story. Perhaps this genre is more defined by events which stretch the boundaries of what is real, while blending them more with what cannot be. Still, I do believe I shall have to request that you perhaps take a little bit on faith as I continue, though you surely have no reason to trust my words. There are some who may have more of a clear understanding of the occurrences I will be sharing soon, though I cannot speak as to whether or not any such person may come to read this. Once my tale has come to a close, I have no doubt that many who may have looked upon these words, will think of them as no more than the ramblings of a madman. In truth, I cannot deny this may very well be the case, though I still vividly remember every single detail.
Elenor and I had chosen to spend the weekend in Brighton, as we were both fond of the beach, as well as the exemplary museums the city housed. It was mid-August. The sky was almost cloudless, and a more vibrant blue than I had ever before laid eyes upon. Of course, it could simply be that I hadn't always paid attention to such wonders, as my outlook had always leaned more towards the negative. My lovely wife was still within her initial months of pregnancy, though she had experienced some weeks of crippling nausea. None of these ailments affected her beautiful glow as we sat upon the pebbled ground with the waves rushing across and between our toes.
As we gazed upon one another, my heart still raced ever so slightly, while my stomach nervously tremorred. Regardless of how used to her wonderful company I had grown, I still felt as little more than a stuttering schoolboy when I stared into her glinting eyes. Perhaps it was due to that very affliction that I was not distracted by the alarmed wails of those others we shared the beachfront with at the time. It wasn't until my beautiful wife cut her own glare upwards, while allowing her jaw to droop ever so slightly, that I took note of the furious, rippling orange which had consumed the vibrant blue of the sky above.
I watched in horror as Eleanor's gorgeous face contorted as the terror took hold of her. Within mere moments, the rampaging flame erupted through the sky, almost immediately consuming the buildings which lined the rear of the beach. I wrapped my arms around my love; pulling her deeper into the water in hopes of escaping the certainty of a swift demise, though my actions caused her far more suffering than if I had allowed her to turn to the same pillars of ash which stood in place of those others we had shared the beach with that day. I was forced to bear witness to the skin upon her face, bubbling and splitting as the water around us came to a sudden boil. I looked on in horror as her flesh shrank away, while she squealed out in a sound I will not soon forget; one filled with agonizing horror, as the meaty tissue behind her skin quickly gave way to reddened bone. I was only vaguely aware of my own body mimicking what I saw before me, until my own eyes swelled and burst from within their sockets.
When I awakened in the same bed I had shared with my loving wife only days before that ill fated trip, I was certain I had once again fell victim to a vivid night terror during my slumber. Though the memories would not fade from behind my eyelids as any normal flight of fancy the world of dreams may present me with, it was certain to me these events could not have actually transpired, as I looked upon the unscorched land beyond my window. It wasn't until the reality of what had truly occurred hit me, that I felt myself spiralling into despair as I had so many times before.
Puzzled by the fact that my beloved Elenor did not lay beside me in our bed, I placed a call to the number I had committed to memory, as her name no longer greeted me from my list of contacts. The voice which spoke from the receiver was not that of my lovely wife, but of a man who was confused by my inquiry to the location of my love. After my assumption I had perhaps misdialed, I placed the call a second time, to find the same individual on the other end. I quickly grew more frantic and frenzied, while the panic overcame me.
I fled from the home in which I knew myself to live with my wife. I sped to the office in time to meet my partners reporting for the day's workload. I practically interrogated the two; pleading with them to grant me with any knowledge they may have to my wife's whereabouts, though there was no logical reason to assume they would have any answers to give. They were genuinely puzzled by my inquisition, as they assured me there was no such person; none that they had ever laid eyes on, anyway. As my befuddlement grew, so did my rage. I scorned my friends for the only answers they had to give, before I sped away from the office towards the home of my in-laws. After they denied ever parenting a child, as well as having never laid eyes on me, I continued my descent into madness.
Days turned to weeks as I plummeted further into despair, once more finding no desire to leave the comfort of the bed I once shared with another. I knew she was real! I ached so badly to wake from the nightmare my existence had again become. Eventually, after my own filth and misery had forced me to break free from my self induced cocoon, I made a meager attempt to clean myself up, before walking the streets of the city for hours in an effort to distract me from my broken heart. As my body grew weaker and my feet throbbed from the countless minutes which had trickled by since I began my aimless wandering, I finally gave into the stabbing in my chest; dropping to my knees in the middle of the crowded sidewalk.
I have no way of knowing how long I knelt on the rough concrete, wailing out from the sheer exhausting agony of losing the one thing which had finally given meaning to my miserable life, while begging the gods to grant me answers to why I could not be allowed to maintain this one, simple thing, when I felt a hand wrap its weathered fingers around my shoulder.
"What's the matter, kid?"
I cut my moistened eyes up to meet those of the elderly man who looked down at me with concern etched into his face.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I replied, suddenly feeling shame for the spectacle I was making of myself amongst the denizens of the city.
"How 'bout you tell me anyway," he said, holding his other hand out to assist me in getting back to my trembling feet.
The genuine compassion he wore upon his face, inspired me to take his hand in mine, before we shared the burden of lifting me from the hardened ground beneath my knees. I staggered, slightly, as my head spun from the oxygen regulating my brain back to something of a default setting, but as I finally stood level with the man who had volunteered to listen to the story of what led me to that state, I couldn't help but feel a warmth grow within me once more.
We walked together for a time and, though I would estimate the man to have likely reached his eighth decade of life on this earth, it was he who held onto me to prevent my still shivering extremities from allowing me to fall back to the concrete ground. He did not speak a word as I spilled the words from my lips, covering the entire history of my life as I have recounted it to you through these paragraphs. His compassionate expression did not waver in the slightest, even through my recollection of the sudden world ending catastrophe which had claimed the very existence of the woman I loved with my whole heart and tormented soul. The words he spoke after I finished my tale were not what I expected to hear.
"You ain't the only one who remembers it, kid."
Not only did this practically cause my heart to skip several beats, as I had begun to convince myself that all of this madness had been a manifestation of my traumatized mind, but it also awoke something of a ray of hope within me. I just stared with wide, unblinking eyes as he continued.
"Can't rightly say why there's so few that remembers these things. Hell, I can't even imagine why any of us do, for that matter."
Though I had lost the one shining light in my life, I still felt my skin shudder; not from the pain of what I had lost, though that still haunts me to this day, but the fact I may not be alone after all.
"It was prob'ly seventy-three the first time I died... Vietnam. Still remember every second of it too."
He glared off into the distance as he spoke, wearing the same expression my weary eyes had shown me in the mirror, many times before.
"Always assumed a land mine would be quick, 'fore that day. Shoulda been payin' more attention, tell you the truth. I felt my leg blow apart before the shrapnel ripped into my guts. Ain't never felt pain like that before then. Soon as what was left of me hit the ground, the lights went out. Maybe seconds later, it was like someone just cut the switch back on!"
His eyes were wide, while his lower lip quivered ever so slightly. He paused for a moment, both in speech and movement. He still had his hand on my back, so I stopped in place as he did. I suppose I was not yet ready to allow the warmth of his hand to separate from my still trembling back. It's almost difficult to explain the comfort that one simple thing brought me, as well as the kindred spirit whose company I shared.
"Course, I was still in the war when I woke back up. Didn't nothin' seem to change, other than the fact I wasn't dead no more. Two more times I fell into the darkness before I finally shipped back to my home in Georgia. One bayonet to the chest, and a grenade I threw myself on to protect the ones I was with. Can't say which one took my Suzie away from me, but it was like she'd never been born when I got back home."
"You lost someone too!?" I asked, feeling more shock at this new revelation.
"She was only the first, kid," he gave me a forced half smile, while a tear trickled from his left eye.
"Why?" I asked. "Why does this happen?"
He just gazed into my eyes for a moment, before gesturing with a tilt of the head for me to follow him to the park bench which sat to the side of the pathway we had been traversing. We sat beside each other, while I still glared into his time worn face, almost mesmerized by the man who appeared to have seen far more pain in life than I. He reached into the pocket inside his coat, before pulling a wrinkled cigarette pack from within. He tapped it on his leg a few times, before unwinding the transparent plastic seal from the top. He flicked the bottom of the pack with his fingers, ejecting the tip of three tan colored filters to varying heights. He pulled the one protruding furthest from the others, before slipping it between his lips.
It was doubtlessly a dance his hands had performed countless times over the passage of the decades, as his absent eyes gazed into the night sky while his muscle memory took control of the task. As the small flame ignited from the tip of the wooden match, to light the far end of the cigarette to a soft, orange glow, I felt tension course through my bones as my mind flashed back the solar flare which had scorched the earth only weeks before. The stranger inhaled deeply, before allowing the thick plume to drift out into the light wind. He glanced towards me, giving me a far more natural and sincere smile from the last.
"I remember the fire too, kid."
I allowed fresh tears to stream from my eyes again as we looked upon one another. Clearly he could relate to the burdens I had carried for so long, and that alone brought me a peace I had not yet known.
"I s'pose I got lucky this time. Soon as I seen the sky light up, I looked at my Bessie, sure this was gonna be the last time I saw her. Felt my whole body smile when I woke up next to her after the lights came back on."
He wrapped his arm around me. I allowed him to pull me closer; to rest my weary head on his shoulder for a time.
"I'm so sorry yours wasn't here waitin' for you, kid. Been there myself more times than I can rightly say."
"What is the point of existence if we can't hold on to what we love," I said, my voice quivering while his jacket moistened from the steady flow of tears dripping from my cheek.
"Ain't got no choice, really. Near as I can figure, this is just the way things work."
"So, we're meant to endure this!?" I asked, feeling hopelessness grip me once more.
"Can't say why some remember and others don't, but my preacher, back home, always said the soul was immortal. Way I see it, most folks ain't got no idea how many times they died over the course of their lives. They just wake up somewheres new, with memories that came with it. In their mind, they ain't never been nowheres else, so they don't remember what they had before. Hell, could be most others just die the normal way, like God intended, and we're the 'lucky few'," he chuckled, though his eyes still blankly stared out into the world before him.
We sat in silence for a time; both of us reflecting on times gone by, while gazing into the uncertainty of what lies ahead. Though the logic behind his words did seem a rational, if somewhat outlandish theory, I couldn't help but wonder about another aspect to this, though it took me some time to figure out the best way to phrase my question.
"So, if our consciousness just transfers to another version of ourselves in a different reality," I asked, both curious and reluctant at the same time, "do we just keep aging?"
I felt almost guilty laying this on his lap, as he was far more advanced in years than I, and I had no desire to inadvertently hurt his feelings by implying he was nearing the end of his journey, so to speak. When the laughter erupted from him, I cannot say I wasn't a little surprised, though somewhat inspired to share his sudden levity.
"Couldn't tell ya, kid," he said, still chuckling while wiping the jovial tears from his eyes, "maybe after the body finally gives out, maybe then you get to move on to one of them other places they talk about in the books. Could be we all got a timer we gotta let run out before we can really see what comes after."
Once more, we sat quietly, sharing the light breeze the night air cast upon us. I can't even know how long we sat on that bench, just staring out across the world which was slowly falling to rest. As the lights from the buildings and homes went dark around us, the man clapped his hand upon my leg.
"I'd better get goin', kid. My Bessie gonna get herself in a fluster if I stay gone much longer."
As he lifted himself to his feet, he gave a slight moan in conjunction with the popping and creaking of the bones in his legs and back. He looked out to the path ahead, which I assumed would lead him back to his home. Before he started to saunter away from me, he began to speak one last time, without turning to face me.
"Can't say why, but the birds always know when the end is comin'."
I just stared at the thin white hair across the back of his head, softly blowing in the subtle wind.
"You see 'em cluster and make for the west, ain't long after that."
He barely moved as he spoke these final words to me. It almost felt as though he was only vaguely aware he was sharing these thoughts with me.
"I'll be eighty-seven this time next week. I've seen the world end a total of three times over those years, and the birds always do the same thing. Don't know how they know it's comin', but they always do."
He finally turned back to face me, with a somewhat friendly smile, but a certain melancholy behind his eyes.
"Take care of yerself, kid. See you on the other side."
With that, he gave me a wink, before strolling away from me; to be swallowed by the darkness surrounding the bench upon which I still sat.
Though I never got the old man's name, nor laid eyes on him again, I recognized his picture in the newspaper a year or so later. The obituary read that he had died due to the advanced cancer which had consumed his body from the inside out. I can't help but wonder if he still awakened the following day; hopefully next to his loving wife, or if he finally found what lies beyond this world and its infinite clones.
Since that meeting with the elderly man; after almost careening into an abyss from which I would have surely never escaped, I chose to make an effort to not only endure this endless life, but to perhaps enjoy it for what it is. Though I may never again find my beloved Elenor, I did begin seeing someone new. Kathleen is a truly incredible woman and though I cherish each and every moment we spend together, I will not allow our relationship to advance as its predecessor did. Though my future is far more uncertain than most, I will never allow myself to entertain the notion that anything can last.
As I finally come to the end of my tale, though my life has had more than its share of very personal horrors, I would imagine mine would not necessarily fall under that category. Regardless of which genre is more suited to the story you may still find a little too far fetched to believe to have taken place, I do appreciate you accompanying me on this journey through my history. Perhaps you will still see these words as little more than the ramblings of a disturbed mind. Of course, I cannot deny that may very well be the case, but I would ask that you to take one small piece of advice from this:
Look to the skies from time to time. In recent weeks, I have noticed the birds forming unusual groupings. It may simply be that time of year, during which they feel the urge to migrate, but it could be something else entirely. Though there may be dark times ahead, fear not, my friends. Likely, you will not remember a thing.

It was my first venture into the workforce. Since freshman year, I'd been counting down the days since I could get my license. When I turned sixteen, I passed my driver's test with flying colors. Actually getting a car of my own was another matter. I didn't grow up in a financially stable environment.
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Our parents were employed, but between expenses, there wasn't much left over, so I wanted to get a job right away. Luckily for me, my older brother, Spencer, had already been working at our town's local diner since the previous year. I asked him if he could see about getting me hired there. While he couldn't guarantee anything, he did tell me he would see what he could do. His good word with the owner paid off and I was scheduled for an interview the following weekend.
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The diner in question is called Claude's, named after the original owner. As an aside, that family had a tradition of giving the sons that name. It was Claude IV who interviewed me. I went with Spencer who drove us in his rusty pickup truck.
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"Is there anything I should know before we go in?" I asked as we pulled in.
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"Yeah, four," Spencer replied, putting his truck in park. "First off, make sure you always maintain eye contact. Second, be nice to customers. Third, be proactive and lastly, never tell anyone exactly how many tips you got. Do all that and you should be good."
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I followed his advice as I talked to Claude, never letting my gaze wander. I answered his questions as best I could. Honestly, during our conversation, I got the immediate sense that this guy wasn't exactly trustworthy. I can't explain why other than that there was this used car salesman vibe to him. Now I was beginning to see why Spencer told me what he did.
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I briefly wondered if maybe I should decline and try to find a job elsewhere. However, I figured that Spencer had already gone through the trouble to convince Claude to interview me, I should see it through.
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"Well, Dale, your brother did say you work hard in school. Tell me, can you bring that kind of energy here?" he asked, flashing a weasel-like smile.
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"Yeah, of course, I'll give a hundred percent."
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"Then you can start right away."
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He extended a hand and I shook it, noting how greasy it felt. We walked out of his office and into the kitchen where Spencer was getting ready to carry out some breakfast plates of eggs and bacon. Claude called his attention.
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"Hey, your brother got the job," he informed him. "When you get done with that, I need you to show him the ropes."
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There wasn't much to go over. The main things were where the break room was and not to stand in front of the door connecting the kitchen to the dining area. It only took me about a week to learn just how shitty people were. It seemed like every other shift someone would complain about something or another. I lost count of how many plates got sent back.
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I don't know what they were expecting. It's not like it was a five-star restaurant. I guess that environment just creates a sense of entitlement in people. Regardless, I tolerated it. Admittedly, some instances required me to bite my tongue, but I managed to keep my cool. Slowly yet surely, my fruits bore labor and I was on my way to being able to purchase my first vehicle, albeit used.
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Spencer and I couldn't be the only servers there so we worked alongside a couple other people. One was Spencer's friend, Angelo from art class and the other was Claude IV who everybody called Chip. He was the polar opposite of his dad. In contrast to his time to lean time to clean attitude, he was a pretty chill guy.
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He told us that his parents are divorced because his dad got caught with the mail lady and then after a confrontation involving Stilettos and resulting in him getting a black eye, he was kicked out of the house. He got Chip on the weekends who he made work for free. Unbeknownst to him, he would swipe money before he got a chance to count it. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly fond of the man, but having an aversion to conflict, he tried to get along with him.
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Summer break came around. By that point, I'd been working there for a little over six months and I had finally managed to snag a car off Craigslist. Now it was just a matter of paying for insurance and saving up for college or trade school. That was the others' plan too. Little did I know just how bad those months were, closely followed by Spring Breakers.
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The main reason we despised the Summer people is that nothing is ever good enough for them. Not to discriminate, but this tended to come from old people. No matter how hard we worked or how patient we were, they would ramble on about how our generation was lazy and disrespectful. The irony wasn't lost on us. It was at the beginning of June when I found out that there was more than meets the eye to the diner. It held a dark secret which given the barely passing health inspection scores wasn’t that surprising.
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However, this went far beyond using just expired food. Chip explained it to me one stormy night. We were getting ready to close up as thunder could be heard outside followed by drizzling raindrops. I was cleaning the lobby. Spencer and Angelo were doing the dishes. Meanwhile, Chip was counting money.
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Once I gave a thorough sweep and then mopped it down, I went to him and asked if he needed anything else.
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“Let me check,” he said then yelled into the kitchen. “Hey, have you guys gotten to the fryers yet?”
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“No, there’s a lot of dishes here. It might be a while,” Angelo called back.
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Chip turned back to me.
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“Yeah, you can go help with that.”
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“Wait, but I’ve never done that before.”
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He paused his counting.
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“Oh yeah, well, just let me finish this up and I’ll show you. It’s pretty easy as long as you’re careful.”
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When he was done, we headed into the kitchen where I had a near accident. I wasn’t prepared for how slippery the floor was and I ended up losing my balance and nearly falling face-first into the fryer. Thankfully, the prep table was nearby and by flailing, I managed to grab hold of it. With my heart rate significantly increased, I straightened myself out.
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“Shit, dude, are you okay?” Spencer asked.
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“I nearly burned my face off. What do you think?” I snapped.
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“Fuck man, you have to be more careful,” Chip scolded.
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“Maybe give me a little heads up next time. Why is the floor so damn slippery anyway?”
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Angelo seemed to remember something embarrassing.
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“That was my bad. I spilled some bacon grease earlier and forgot to clean it up. Honestly, we’re lucky nobody had an accident sooner.”
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When Chip glared at him, he added, “Sorry, I’ll be more on top of things in the future.”
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Chip only shook his head and got back to me. Learning how to clean the fryer didn't take long. Earlier mishap aside, I got it down pretty quickly.
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“And all that's left to do is have a fresh container ready to fill it in the morning," he said, placing one on the adjacent containers.
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By then, Spencer and Angelo were also finishing up. He went to a nearby sink to wash his hands.
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"By the way, make sure you get some slip-proof shoes. We don't want you ending up like Baxter."
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"Who?"
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Everyone stared at me.
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"You know, Baxter Reed?" Spencer said.
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"No? I've never heard of him."
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"Wow, he's been here all this time and nobody told him," Angelo chimed in. "Should we tell him then?"
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Chip glanced outside where the storm was now raging.
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"I suppose this is ideal weather for a scary story."
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Back in the lobby, Chip stood behind the counter while the rest of us sat on the barstools. He stared with a hard expression plastered across his face as he recounted the story of Baxter Reed.
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​
According to him, he was born in the town hospital back in the 40s and life went downhill for him from there. In addition to being a preborn baby, he was physically weak which in turn made his dad resent him and smack him around in an attempt to toughen him up. His mom didn't do anything to help either.
​
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"Wow, poor guy," I interjected.
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"You don't know the half of it," Chip said. "If he didn't get punches at home, he was getting them at school. Usually, he got both. People like him tend to be easy targets."
​
"Did he have anything going for him?"
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"As a matter of fact, he did. The dude was crazy smart and I mean a real poindexter. He'd probably be doing great right now if he'd been born around our time. Sadly, it wasn't in the cards for him. Life kept beating him down."
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"That sucks and all, but what does that have to do with the fryer?"
​
"I'm getting to that, have some patience."
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Seeing that Chip was annoyed, I piped down.
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"As I was saying, nothing ever went right for Baxter and it was in this very restaurant he met his untimely end.”
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“You mean he…Died here?” I hesitantly said, feeling bits of apprehension creep in.
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“That’s right and man, was his all kinds of fucked. My grandpa was the one in charge of this place at the time and much like my dad, he wasn’t too concerned with employment safety so long as he didn’t get sued. Anyway, Baxter’s dad left him and his mom and his sixteenth birthday, and since she couldn’t work, he needed money where he could get it.”
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Given the circumstances, I understood why Baxter’s mother couldn’t hold down a job. Chip went on.
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“So, my grandpa hired him and he worked here for nearly two years.”
​
“What was he planning to do?”
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Chip shrugged.
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“Probably save up and move like us. Too bad he never got the chance.”
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“Let me guess, the fryer?”
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“Bingo, one night during a dinner rush, he slipped and fell into the oil head first. If that wasn’t bad enough, apparently, it was heated up too much and he died on the way to the hospital.”
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“That’s awful. Don’t get me wrong, but what’s so scary about it? So far, it seems more like a cautionary tale.”
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Chip drummed his fingers on the counter as if mentally preparing himself.
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“That’s not where the story ends. Rumor has it that his mom was heavily into the occult before she married his dad.”
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My hands curled on the counter.
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“You mean like a Wiccan?”
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“I don’t think it’s ever been specified. Baxter’s funeral was the week after his accident and since his dad skipped town, she was the only one who attended, but she had other plans. She stole the body.”
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That took me aback. However, I did wonder if it was technically stealing since she was his mother.
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“You’re kidding?”
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“Nope, people around town have been talking about it for years.”
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“Then why haven’t I heard of it?”
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“You hardly get out,” Spencer told me.
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“Oh, well, I guess that explains it.”
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“Right,” Chip continued, “so she wanted to use her son’s corpse in some kind of ritual, possibly one she thought would bring him back to life.”
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Although I could sympathize with her, such actions appalled me.
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“What did she do exactly?” I asked, cautiously curious.
​
“The details are vague, but basically she still owned some books on the subject. One of them contained a blood ritual that she attempted to pull off. The day after the funeral, she was found dead with a self-inflicted throat in the middle of a ceremonial circle with candles surrounding it.”
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“And Baxter?”
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“Her blood got on him. The most fucked up thing about it is that the people who found her said that she was smiling.”
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This was a lot to take in. Now, I’ve heard of some messed up true crime before, but this was up there.
​
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“What happened after that?”
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“Hey, you catch on quick.”
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​
Chip explained that after their burial, shit started to go wrong for the people who tormented them. Baxter’s bullies all died under mysterious circumstances within the year. All of them vary in how they happened. Some were caused by car accidents. Others were because they picked on the wrong people and some burned like him. The weirdest was his dad who according to his obituary, died of a heart attack.
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His autopsy showed no abnormalities that would’ve caused it either. The muscle simply ceased to function.
​
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“What happened to this place?” I asked.
“Lots of accidents and shit falling apart. Even equipment that wasn’t that old or even brand new would malfunction. One customer was injured from a lamp falling on his head. Things got so bad people refused to come and my grandpa had to shut this place down for a while.”
​
“Did the curse stop when he did?”
​
“How did you know?”
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“Isn’t that how it usually works with these kinds of things?”
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“Indeed, and I’m sure you’ve already guessed where I’m going with this. On the night of the reopening, Baxter himself appeared.”
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I gave a skeptical stare. Up until then everything was unusual and improbable. However, it wasn’t impossible. There were similar stories such as what happened to the cast of the Poltergeist movies and probably many other instances. Nonetheless, I kept my opinion to myself and let Chip continue.
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“I know how it sounds, but there are people who were there on that night who said they heard him, crystal clear..”
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“But nobody actually saw him?”
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“One person did in the bathroom mirror. They said his face was burnt and he had on the same uniform he died in.”
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“Then what happened? Did he make shit float around and smash some dishes?”
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“No, he didn’t show himself to anyone else. Instead, he left a message to my grandpa.”
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I went from skeptical to mildly intrigued.
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“Your grandpa? What did he tell him?”
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“That if this place wasn’t gone within sixty years after his accident that he would return for the blood of his family.”
“So you?”
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“Or my dad.”
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I did some quick mental math.
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“Wait, you said sixty years. How long has it been since then?”
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Chip smiled.
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“Funny you should bring that up. The sixtieth anniversary, if you want to call it that, of the incident is in a week. That should give you something to look forward to. Anyway, I hope you all have a safe trip home.”
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With that, we left. During the following week, I did consider asking around town to verify parts of the story. Not wanting to expend unnecessary effort, though I decided it wasn’t worth going out of the way for. I did have to admit to myself that some parts of the story did stick with me. In fact, I was a bit apprehensive to work on the night of the anniversary. However, I knew that would only show the others that the story had gotten to me so I showed up without complaint.
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We still got the same number of customers which didn’t bode well for the story. If people believed it, shouldn’t they be avoiding Claude’s? Then I began to notice a drastic shift as it got closer to sunset. People seemed in a hurry to eat their food and then get out of there. I shrugged this off, figuring they were just eager to get home.
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Chip’s dad left halfway into our shifts to go play poker, saying that he was feeling lucky so it was only the four of us. We tended to our usual duties and I, now in slip-resistant shoes, was helping Spencer with the dishes.
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“Hey, I need to take a leak. Mind if I step away?” he asked.
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“Go ahead.”
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He left and I finished up. When I did, Chip called me.
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“Dale, can you take out the trash?”
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I glanced outside, briefly feeling like Spongebob in the Night Shift episode.
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“Yeah, sure. Anything else?”
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“No, that should do.”
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Gathering the trash in the lobby, I went outside, trying to keep an unbothered demeanor. Then I tossed the bags into the dumpster. As I was getting around, I heard something that made my neck hairs stand on end.
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"Need…Revenge."
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I spun around and screamed. Baxter's ghost stood in front of me, wearing the clothes he died in and with his face burned. I couldn't do more than let out a squeak as he reached toward me.
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"Must pay.." he continued. "Blood…"
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His voice was that of a perpetual chain smoker. I booked it, wanting to grab my keys inside and get out of there. Baxter was giving which only further increased my fear and confusion when another Baxter popped up in front of the door. Cursing, I nearly ran into him, but managed a sliding stop and changed course, heading to the front of the diner. It didn't dawn on me to wonder where the others were as I went inside.
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Relieved I managed to lose the Baxter ghosts, I spotted my keys on the counter and went to grab them. When I did, a hand shot up from under the counter, grabbing my wrist.
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"Revenge…"
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Baxter's head rose up. The smell was awful like burnt moldy cheese. Yelling, I was able to pull away and back up only to bump into the two other Baxters from before. I was surrounded.
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"Pay in blood," they rasped in unison.
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"No, please," I begged, searching for some way out.
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My back was to the wall. They came closer. Then I heard one of them begin to laugh along with the others soon after. Instantly, my intense fear turned to burning anger.
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"You fucking pieces of shit," I screamed.
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Spencer, Angelo, and Chip pulled their masks off, doubling over and holding their sides.
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"You should have seen your face," Chip howled, wiping a few tears away.
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"We had this planned all week," Angelo explained between giggles. "We even made these masks by gluing burnt pizza cheese to them."
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"Well, I hope it was worth it, assholes because I'm covering any more of your shifts," I snapped.
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"Don't be a pussy," Spencer told me. "It was just a harmless prank."
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Reluctantly I agreed and told them I was going to head out.
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"Wait, before you go can you grab some Lysol from the back?" Chip asked. "Don't worry. I promise we won't try anything else."
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Drawing in a breath of frustration, I went to the back to grab a can. Opening the closet, I saw another Baxter ghost glaring down at me.
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"Fuck off," I said, rolling my eyes and then slamming the door.
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Storming back into the lobby, I confronted Angelo and Chip.
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"Really, you mother fuckers just had to try to get another cheap shot on me?"
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"What are you talking about?" Angelo replied.
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"Yeah, we've been here the whole time," Chip added.
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"Oh yeah? Then where's Spencer?"
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He came from the bathroom, drying his hands on his apron.
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"What's the matter with you?" he asked me.
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My apprehension was returning.
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"Hang on. If you're all here, then who did I see in the…?"
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Everyone's eyes suddenly grew huge and I got the feeling they weren't pulling my leg this time. Slowly, I turned. It was Baxter, the real Baxter, standing before us. How I knew for sure this wasn't a prank was the fact he was floating. Furthermore, his face was hideously disfigured from burns, and his uniform was covered in grease stains.
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Raising a finger, he pointed it at Chip.
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"Time's up," he said to him.
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Chip's words caught in his throat. Baxter stared at us and noticed the masks on the counter. His hands clenched into fists.
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"How dare you?" he roared.
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The lights hummed as he got more agitated.
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"Run," I screamed.
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We attempted to head for the door, but Baxter flew in front of it, giving us no choice other than running to the kitchen. The back door would've been our next choice if Baxter didn't start making dishes fly around the room.
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"In here, quick," Angelo urged, gesturing to the walk-in fridge.
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We were able to get inside and lock it before Baxter noticed.
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"That's a ghost," I said in stunned fright, "a real ghost."
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"Yeah, we all saw him. Keep your voice down," Chip hissed.
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"What are we going to do?" Angelo asked.
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A sudden pounding came from the door.
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"I know you're in here, Claude," Baxter said from the other side.
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We all went quiet and Chip raised a finger to his lips.
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"Very well, since nobody is here then there won't be any harm in me burning this place to the ground."
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"No, wait," I spoke up.
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"So you're all here after all."
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"Look, man, we're sorry. Right, guys?"
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I glared at them and they agreed, then apologized to Baxter.
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"That doesn't change the terms. The Claude's had several decades to shut this place down."
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Realizing we weren't going to get out of this unscathed, my heart sank.
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"But I'm willing to make a deal. Send Claude out and the rest of you are free to go. I'll give you a couple minutes to decide."
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With a mournful look, Spencer placed a hand on Chip's shoulder.
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"We'll never forget you."
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"Fuck you guys," Chip yelled, smacking his hand away. "You're really going to send me out there?"
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Wanting to buy some time, I asked Baxter what he planned on doing to Chip. He went to excruciating detail involving skinning him alive and then sticking him in the fryer. Chip's face became paler and paler as we listened. Even though we sympathized with him, the fact of the matter was if we hesitated none of us would make it out.
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"What's this?" we heard Baxter ask.
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Metallic jingling indicated that he found the keys.
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"Shit, we forgot to grab them," Angelo said.
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The lock turned and the door swung open, revealing Baxter. We screamed, falling back.
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"And now you'll all pay," he replied. "Any last words?"
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Oddly, I did have some
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"Why didn't you just go through the door?" I asked.
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Baxter stopped, then with a ghostly wail he made the containers around us levitate. Would this truly be how it would end, getting pelted to death by boxes of just expired meat? The front door's bell rang.
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"Hey, Chip," we heard his dad call out, "turns out I wasn't so lucky after all. Can you spot me a few hundred dollars? I kind of bet over my head."
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He entered the kitchen and flew into a rage.
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"What in the fuck did you morons do to this place?" he roared. "Is this what I pay you for?"
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His rant ceased when he saw Baxter. Claude must've reminded him more of his former employer than Chip did because he decided to go for him instead. He didn't have a chance of getting away.
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"Help me," Claude screamed as Baxter was dragging him away.
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It was only upon hearing the fryer turn on did we break out of our paralysis and go after them. We got to them too late. Despite us cleaning the fryer earlier, it was now refilled and heated. The only thing we saw was Claude's burned hand sinking into it. The fryer then began rapidly vibrating and sparking. That was a clear sign to get the hell out of there and this time we didn't forget our keys.
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Soon after we got out, the fryer exploded in the kitchen, resulting in a fire. The following week was hectic. The story we gave was that the fire was a freak accident and Chip's dad sadly perished in it. Seeing as how the building's wiring hadn't been upgraded since the 70s, that wasn't hard to believe. Chip made it onto the local news and was interviewed about the incident.
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We wished him our condolences. Even though he thought his dad was an asshole, he did have a soft spot for the man. He told us thanks and said at least it meant Baxter won't ever return. Not to mention, insurance gave him a large payout which gave him the funds to attend college. As for us, we got jobs at a Waffle House that opened soon after Claude's fire.
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There, we were able to save up and eventually moved away as well. Spencer and I talk on occasion and he's told me Angelo and Chip are doing good. The former works as an artist and the latter opened his own restaurant where his workers get treated fairly. Spencer works as an independent welding contractor and I took an interest in the paranormal and history so I decided to become a museum tourer.
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In conclusion, if you have to work where a ghost will be on the anniversary of the night they swore to exact terrible vengeance, maybe utilize one of your sick days or you could end up burned like Baxter or Claude.

So. Tell me where it all began. …Alright: So. Tell me where it all began. …Alright: Oh! Oh, you're that guy! The one and only. I WAS YOUR THERAPIST! You're more delusional than I thought. You were my patient that wouldn't stop talking about virginity! Aaand not being your patient. You’ve played that mammal game with the toys? I would remember if that happened. It's on my bucket list. The tennis thing with big Luigi? That game doesn't exist—it would be on the news. And you were about to talk about something else—that's when I called it! See, this is where your story falls flat, it's really unlike me to talk about three things. You freaked me out, man! The fact that you gave a sh-t about three different games, it scared me! Who knows what you're capable of giving a sh-t about?! Let me get this straight: You believe I—who answered a want ad in the paper for a therapist—used to have YOU as a therapist, and YOU went insane after therapy sessions with YOU about three games caused YOU to question faith? That's my obituary! OK, well, I can't help you until I know what the third game is gonna be. Why? It sounds like a good thing to add to my book: “My Patient's Personal Stories and I”. I don't know. You didn't talk about it. It was a game! Wait... wait, I remember a game... AAAAAAAAA—! You WERE a therapist! I tried to be a news anchor, but I wasn't cut out. So I became a therapist, yeah. And I was your patient, and I had to go to you because I played three Nintendo games from 2015 that were so bad I had to seek therapy! Well, what was the third game?! What happened when you played the third game?! —AAAAAAAAAH! …After I get therapy for playing all three of these games, I'm gonna suppress everything, forget who I am, and become a therapist. And here we are today! So it's just a 2D game about a robot! A BAD 2D game about a robot! ...those exist? Not until 2015, they didn't! Listen, can you just get over this trauma so I can enjoy my therapy in peace? No, you need to get over YOUR trauma! I need therapy, alright? And you're gonna give me advice on how to improve my mental health, AND YOU’RE GONNA LIKE IT! You were a therapist! Don't you give yourself therapy? MY MIRROR'S IN THE SHOP!!! You don't know what I go through every day. How do you expect me to give you secret therapy when we didn't even finish our original session? You know, I'll tell you what: if I finish your session, will we do my therapy? You know there are millions of customer support websites that would love to hear your personal problems? You need to finish what you started—we need to end this now! I have dinner tonight with my family, and I gotta finish this before then, so I don't show up insane! Ok, fine… Let’s go to where it all began. Nice place. This your couch? Yeah. Okay, this place—so… You ever take a sh-t? Oh yeah, been a big fan. Cool, so you know what this place is. This is the bathroom. Those always there? Well, on the off-chance I need to restock—no, but I keep these here as a hobby. I like to curate them. This game blows! Uh, this game blows! This game? Blows! Oh—Oh my God! It’s worse than I thought! (This game blows!) I really should have reconsidered installing that. Ugh! Dugh! AAAGH!!! Y’know, I may have left the force a while ago, but when it comes to makeshift therapy offices, I still got it! …I’ve seen better. So. Tell me where it all went wrong. Well: AAAGH!!! This game is worse than I thought. Chibi-Robo! Zip Lash is a stupid f-cking f-ck sh-t f-ck f-ck sh-t. You know, that sounds about right… but something just doesn’t seem right. Oh! Hey all, Scott here. NOW THIS IS THERAPY!

I finished college about 2 years ago. I graduated with a bachelor's degree majoring in mechanical engineering. Right after college, I got a pretty decent job designing electronics that you would usually find in a kitchen (Fridge, Microwave ETC). I saved up some money so I could buy my own apartment/house. I saved up around $300,000.
I finally decided that it was time to purchase myself a house. I loaded up a house listing website and started to browse. I quickly realized $300,000 wasn't a lot when it came to house shopping. The cheapest house I could find was going for around $475,000. I started to lose hope when I filtered by price (Lowest-Highest). The lowest listing was a decently sized house (1 Bath, 2 Bedrooms) for about $100,000. It was a nice piece of land. It is surrounded by woods which I thought was weird but I didn't think much of it. This was too good to be true.
I immediately messaged the seller and asked her why the house was so cheap. She told me that she has a terminal illness and that she doesn't have any living relatives to give her remaining worth to. She said she wanted to give a young person like me a decent-sized house for cheap. Do a good deed before she dies I guess.
I was sold. I mean come on, who would pass up a once-in-a-lifetime deal like that?! I told her that I was interested in purchasing the house and we got to business. I bought the house for around $90,000 because she said she felt bad charging so much due to the house's “Issues”. I asked her to reiterate but she simply ignored my request. I told her I would meet her the following week.
When I arrived at the house I was stunned. It was beautiful. There were nice pink and blue flowers in the yard, there were nicely trimmed hedges following the walkway to the front door, The yard was clean. It was amazing. The woman showed me around the house. She had already cleared out all of the furniture. As we toured the 2nd floor I noticed that we skipped over a door. I asked her what was in there. She simply responded, “Oh, Nothing you have to worry about”. I thought she was kidding so I chuckled a little bit. As I regained eye contact I realized her face was stone cold. I stopped laughing and we finished up.
I rented a U-Haul and started to pack up my stuff from my parent's house. By the time I was fullypacked it was around 8:00 pm. I decided to stay at my parent's house for the night as I didn't have any furniture bought yet. I woke up pretty early the next day (Around 5:00 am) and drove to my new house. My parents gave me some furniture from their house as they were gonna upgrade to some new stuff. I finished up around noon the same day. I was pretty exhausted so I decided to go for a nap in my new bedroom. I set my alarm for about 30 minutes and went to sleep.
My eyes slowly crept open. I tiredly peered over towards my phone. I grabbed it and turned it on. The bright wallpaper made my drowsy eyes hurt. As my eyes adjusted they settled and the time. “11:00 pm”. “Ah man” I thought to myself. I knew that I would probably be up all night. I got up and decided to get a quick shower. I got dressed and headed downstairs. I didn't want to just play on my phone for the next few hours so I headed to the nearest Best Buy. It closed at 12:00 am so I had some time. I decided I was gonna pick up a TV and hook my laptop up to it until I get a TV box. I bought this really nice 55-inch Flat screen for about $750. I left the store and packed up my car.
I started to pull up to my house when I spotted something strange. The streetlight was illuminating the front of my house in this orange-ish glow so I could see basically everything. As I pulled into my driveway I swear I saw something scurry across the large window that peeks into the living room. I let out a large gasp. My heart started to race. I really wanted to drive away but I swallowed my fears and exited the car, never breaking my gaze on the window. “It's nothing you scaredy cat,” I thought. I grabbed the TV out of the trunk and headed into the house.
I set up the TV and I plugged my laptop into it. I loaded up Netflix and started to binge-watch some of my favorite shows. I made some food and started to relax. The event that took place as I arrived back slipped out of my mind with every second that passed. Around 2:00 am I finished the current season of the show I was watching. I started to feel a little bit sleepy so I loaded up a podcast on YouTube and laid down on the couch.
SMASH… I jumped off the couch at the sound of something breaking upstairs. I looked at the clock on the microwave across the room. It read “3:47 AM”. I had packed a backpack full of my most important items when I moved in. One of these items was a gift I received from my father. A Glock-19 (We are originally from Texas. We are a big gun family…). I ran over to the bag and zipped it open. I shuffled through my belongings until I felt the bumpy grip. I grabbed it and started to advance
I slowly approached the stairs, holding the pistol with two hands. I placed my foot on the first step and started to advance. As I reached the top I headed toward my bedroom first. I swung open the door and started to aim the Glock around. On the ground was a glass candle holder, smashed into pieces. The bedroom window was fully opened and the curtains were swaying back and forth. I closed the bedroom door and locked it. I turned on the bedroom light and started to head towards the window, stepping over the broken glass in the process.
I moved the curtains out of the way with the front of the gun. To my relief, there was nothing out there. I closed the window shut and placed the Glock on top of my dresser. I headed downstairs and grabbed my phone, along with a broom and a dustpan. I cleaned up the glass and threw it out. I entered my room and locked the door once again. I picked up the Glock and got into bed. I pulled the covers over my body and pulled out my phone. I started to play a game with my right hand, my left hand was on the trigger of the Glock under the covers.
I woke up around 9:00 am that morning. I started to get out of bed. As I proceeded to stand the Glock fell off of the bed and landed on the hardwood floor. I screamed, thinking it was gonna go off. Thankfully it never happened. I picked it up and placed it under my pillow.
Some time passed. About a month from that night. Nothing unusual happened during that time. I settled in nicely and started to forget about what happened. One night I got a bit caught up at work so I had to stay late. It was about 1:00 am when I got home. I noticed that the lights were off inside. I know for a fact I left them on when I left for work. I unlocked the front door and tried the light switch. Nothing.
I sighed and headed out to the breaker at the back of the house (Not the greatest security feature I know). As I opened the breaker I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I paused for a second then slowly turned my head left towards the backdoor. The small curtain on the door's window was moving. My heart dropped. I messed around with the breaker and eventually, all the lights turned on. I peered at the back door one more time as I headed to the front of the house.
My Glock was on my hip (I started carrying it on me after the first event happened, you know, just in case!) I gripped it as I entered the front door. Everything looked normal. Maybe I was seeing things. My nerves calmed down a little bit. As I started to relax I noticed that the hallway light upstairs wasn't on. A puzzled look washed over my face. As I headed up the creaky wooden stairs I saw some glow coming from under a door. The one I was told not to worry about. I advanced up the stairs and up to the door. I slowly reached for the handle with my left hand. The metal doorknob was ice cold. I slowly started to twist it. I felt a small click and I pushed on the door…
Inside was a bathroom. It had these weird light blueish/green tiles on the walls. It looked like something straight out of the 50s. I stepped into the room. It smelt like bleach in there, as if someone recently cleaned it. There was a sink, a light blue bathtub, A light blue toilet, and a mirror on the wall. There was something off about this room though. The mirror looked dirty and old compared to the squeaky clean room. I walked in front of the mirror, looking down. I slowly started to peer my head up toward the wall. There, staring back at me was my reflection. I'm not sure what I expected to be honest. But… Something wasn't right. It seemed like my reflection was almost delayed. If I moved my arm my reflection would do it like 300ms after. Almost like lag in a video game.
This creeped me out. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. I started to reach for my Glock slowly. I was gonna draw really quickly and see what happened to my reflection. I took my chance. I whipped it out of the holster as fast as possible. My reflection followed. As I stopped my arm my reflection accidentally flung the Glock upwards. That was enough for me. Out of pure fear, I unloaded the mag into the mirror with my eyes closed. The gun stopped firing. I was out of bullets. I opened my eyes slowly. The mirror was reduced to shards on the counter. I didn't stay there long. I ran out of the house and got into my car. I drove towards the city and called my parents. I explained everything that happened. They didn't believe me. They told me I could stay at their house for the night.
The next morning I tried calling the seller. Every time I would try it would just hang up right away. I decided to search for her name on Google to see if she has a Facebook or something. The search came back with nothing… except a link to an obituary website. I clicked it and it brought me to an obituary of this lady. I assumed that maybe her terminal illness killed her. There was a little section that talked about the cause of death. As I started to read my jaw dropped. “Cause Of Death: Self-Inflicted Gunshot Wound.” I couldn't believe it. She lied to me. She didn't sell the house to me because she was dying. She sold it to me because it was haunted.
This all happened around 4 Years ago. I have since moved far away from that place. I started my own tech company and it had some very major success. It made me pretty wealthy. I hired a local company to tear down that house completely around 2 years ago and I sold the land. I will never be the same. I have a huge fear of mirrors now, for obvious reasons of course. I have a really nice mansion now. The breaker is inside the garage. There are absolutely 0 Mirrors in my house. I'm engaged and I have 1 kid. Life definitely got better.
Sometimes I will look into mirrors by accident at stores or other people's houses. Sometimes I swear it's delayed again. But I'm probably seeing things. Though I said the same thing when I saw the shadow in the window so who knows. I just hope it never happens again…

Lashay Hulgan. I have lived in Cullman & I am initially from Bessemer, Al and for the last 4 years my life has been taken hostage and targeted by a group of criminals that need to be brought to justice. I'm what you call a 'Targeted Individual '. When you read or hear about a targeted individual usually it gets looked over or laughed about in some way or another. When this finally gets posted it will sound so dumb because anyone who tries to stop this from happening can't put the truth out there until you read about an event happening like this on an obituary like my parents. So please DO NOT hit the X button or just scroll through this post because it is probably been adjusted and posted by the hackers version not the victim. I have tried to put the real truth on web sites, Facebook, or anything where someone could relate and bann together to stop electronic harassment and illegal use of electromagnetic weapons. Listen this is as real as it gets and if not somehow stopped then over time cyber terrorism and electronic harassment will become headlines like 9/11 daily and by then can not be stopped because it will be too late. I am one of a million of human beings out there that nobody will listen too or take serious that has been electronically harassed, and taken hostage and has become what is known as a targeted individual. It has been called gang stalking, electronic torture, brain torture, microwaveable guns, Havana syndrome, stalkerware, direct energy weapons, sexual mind torture, and so many other things I could list. I and so many others are alone and scared because nobody will believe anything people like me say and when I and probably everyone else has proof or comes up with proof it gets deleted or stolen and nobody can put what is going on out here because they control all of a TI's life and it becomes a revolving cycle. In my case and the people or person that has done this to me and destroyed my life somehow knows my soon to be exwife, and are very jealous, dangerous, and has been claiming to be with the local 2 law enforcement agencies from the only 2 counties that i have lived in for 43 years. Everything over 4 years is starting to point towards a possible relationship/friendship between my stalker and my soon to be ex wife. I have had 8 emails, 6 cell phones, and 3 places of living that have all been hijacked, and broken into over the past 4 years. I have had no privacy whatsoever in the last 4 years. My wife and I are currently going through our 3rd divorce and my wife swears she has no idea who they are but everything that happens has been centered in some way around her. She does things that follow events happening to me. We have a 4 year old little girl, and I know they have harmed her by burning her with laser weapons, and have caused her to fall unexpectedly so many times and my wife just acts if nothing happened at all. During this time my water system at my parents house has been overtaken and is controlled by this individual. My wifi (Spectrum) is controlled and hijacked. My ADS alarm system can be turned off for them to come in my home when I leave to ruin groceries i have, and any type of food in the home gets ruined in some way, they have cameras and some type of laser devices in my parents home that Ican't discover. They have harmed my dog, and I have several witnesses of his behavior as of late and matter how many times I have tried changing the alarm code they hack it. My garage doors will only open if they want them to. I have spent thousands of dollars on security cameras within this time and I have bought almost every brand from Roku, Blink, and Nest and all were tampered with, rewired, or reprogrammed to cause me problems, and bankruptcy issues at one time. I hear of a device out there now that is called stingray device. This device can be used if close enough to zap electronic devices, and mirrored and even taken over as there own. I can't even use the rest room without being watched and abused in stores, work places, my home, and anywhere I go. I have reported to local and federal law enforcement agencies and they don't know what to do and nothing happens about it. The people harassing me follow me around everywhere I go. I have spent over $70,000 in 9 months staying in hotels to get away and purchasing non lethal weapons for protection. They have done everything to destroy my career, marriage, and harmed anything I care about except my wife. She is the only one that has never been threatened in this. In fact one of our first arguments we got in 4 years ago tells me now alot because she said that someone was watching and would help her to get rid of me if she wanted them to and at the time it was laughable because of her past. Everyone else I care about have been threatened in some fashion or another. I can't count how many times they said they were going to kill my parents when me and my wife separated in 2020 and sure enough both my mom and dad were found dead last year with gunshot wounds. It was labeled and setup as murdesuicide. They are no way that happened. They have cameras watching so many people that has no clue especially women. I have had side effects of shortness of breath, constant ringing in my ears,chest pains, eye pain with blurry vision, nasal congestion, . I am trying to post more but they are erasing it and making it sound dumb. Please contact me if you would like further information at [email protected] (mailto:[email protected]), [email protected] (mailto:[email protected]) or my cell

If a person just simply dislikes X-mas, they should not be compared to unfavorable fictional characters (such as Ebenezer Scrooge or The Grinch). They are a human being, just like everyone else, but they just simply are not a fan of that holiday.
If you know some who just dislikes all holidays: Maybe they're Autistic, maybe they suffer from chronic fatigue or social anxiety, or it could even come from trauma they've suffered during one important holiday. They're not "boring", they're just different, and they enjoy doing other things for fun, regardless of holidays.
April Fool's Day is a very unusual "holiday": it's a day when people pull some of the most cruel jokes, they tell people things that could cause the other people to suffer mental health crises. There's no reason that people should just be allowed to be dishonest, and potentially hurtful even; and then whenever a person pulls an "April Fool's Day" joke on a person who's probably been lied to or bullied in the past (or is Autistic), people will stand there and tell them they're being "too sensitive".
...
I personally dislike April Fool's Day; for a friend of mine it's his least favorite day in the entire year. I once had a friend who suffers c-PTSD, from constant gaslighting growing up, and is also Autistic... Needless to say, this holiday was a very, very horrible struggle for that guy too.
Several years ago, one of my friends died over the weekend; April 1st was Monday, and we heard she had died that morning. Nobody believed my other friend at first when she told us; I had to check the obituaries that afternoon when I got home.
Just today, my neighbor (who already had welfare issues) got drunk, sped up and down the road in his truck, hit a car, and then backed into the wrong driveway, hitting the occupant's house. Somewhere in the process he lost his mirror on the driver's side.
People often will say things, that sound just as bad as that, then yell out "April Fool's! Ha ha I got ya!"; Then when things like this actually DO happen, people are a lot less likely to believe it!