The entirety of Harry "Truck" Hannah's major league career came with the New York Yankees -- all three years of it. But if you include his participation in the minors, he had a long career, beginning in 1909 with the Tacoma Tigers in the Northwestern League and ending in 1940 with the Memphis Chickasaws in the Southern Association. He is one of only a handful of players to have a hit in five different decades!
Of all the forgotten Yankee with memorable nicknames -- No Neck, Stanky the Yankee, Sailor Bob, Spud, Slow Joe, The Mummy, Birdie, Bump, and Grandma Johnny -- there's something to be said about the sublime elegance of a big, brawny catcher nicknamed Truck.
James Harrison Hannah Jr. was born 134 years ago today, on June 5, 1889, in what was then the Dakota Territory. (It would become the state of North Dakota about five months later.) By age 2, the family had moved to Seattle, Washington.
As a kid, he was called Harry, but by the time he was playing baseball, he was universally known as Truck. There are several stories as to how he got the nickname. Some said it had to do with his imposing size -- he stood 6'1" and weighed a solid 190 pounds -- and others because of the way he could block the plate as easily as a truck could block a street. Other sources say the nickname wasn't comparing him to a motor vehicle but to a horse, or rather a truck horse, as horses that pulled heavy wagons were called at the time. His daughter, Helen, said he got the nickname simply because he was "big and slow."
Another explanation, a little less colorful, was that Hannah paid the bills in the off-season by working as a truck driver!
Hall of Fame Umpire Billy Evans said Hannah was adept at the catcher's trick of distracting the batter with a steady stream of banter while behind the plate:

"Truck Hannah always has been an object of interest to me when catching. Aside from always doing a pretty good job receiving, he never failed to have a line of conversation that would make a bigger hit on the vaudeville circuit than some of the stuff used by some monologue artists. Hannah keeps up a continual chatter from the time the game starts. Of course, his conversation is largely directed at the batter, in the hope that his line of talk will take the mind of the batter from his work, the making of base hits. He seeks to keep the batter from concentrating, and from the many strikes slipped over by the New York pitchers, I would say there was merit in his system. Hannah's conversation is never objectionable. He usually has the batter laughing at some of his talk, rather than sore."

But Hannah used more than just banter to distract batters. As the pitch was being delivered, he would sometimes spit tobacco juice onto a player's shoes, toss pebbles onto the plate, or throw dirt at their hands on the bat!
Hannah got his start in professional baseball as a 20-year-old third baseman with the Tacoma Tigers in the Northwestern League. When the team needed an emergency catcher, Hannah was put behind the plate and stuck there for the rest of his career. Over the next five years he played for five different teams in four different leagues, until in 1914 finally catching on with the Sacramento Wolves in the Pacific Coast League. The PCL at the time was considered by some to be a third major league, or at least the minor league closest to major league competition, and Hannah was regarded as one of the best catchers in the league. He drew interest from several major league teams, including the Tigers, Phillies, and Browns. But it was the Yankees who finally acquired him, paying $4,000 to acquire his rights after he hit .292 in 569 at-bats in 1917.
Truck pulled into the Polo Grounds -- not Yankee Stadium, which wouldn't be built until 1923 -- as the foundation was being laid for a dynasty. Jacob Ruppert and Tillinghast Huston purchased the Yankees in 1915 and immediately set about reversing the fortunes of what had been for years one of the worst-run teams in the American League. The Yankees, as they became known in 1913, had only winning season in the last 10 years.
The new owners set about making changes, acquiring a number of valuable players: Wally Pipp, Home Run Baker, Ping Bodie, Aaron Ward, Urban Shocker, and previously forgotten Yankee Bob Shawkey.
After the 1917 season they made the biggest change of all, firing well-liked manager Bill Donovan and replacing him with former St. Louis Cardinals manager Miller Huggins, who over the next 11 years would lead the Yankees to six pennants and three World Series.
Huggins made another move, acquiring from the St. Louis Browns future Hall of Fame pitcher "Gettysburg Eddie" Plank and veteran second baseman Del Pratt. The latter would be a good player for the Yankees, hitting .295/.348/.394 (106 OPS+) over the next three seasons, but the 42-year-old Plank refused to report and retired instead. In return, the Yankees shipped out five players... including starting catcher Les Nunamaker, who had been with the Yankees for four seasons.
And so, needing a catcher to replace Nunamaker, the Yankees paid the Salt Lake City Bees $4,000 for Hannah. He was expected to battle 22-year-old Muddy Ruel to be the backup to the 25-year-old Roxy Walters, who had been Nunamaker's understudy since September 1915, but Ruel would be drafted into the U.S. Army and Walters broke his finger in an exhibition game 10 days before Opening Day. By the time Walters was ready to play again, Hannah was hitting .288/.432/.356 and had thrown out 19 out of 34 basestealers; over the rest of the season, he would maintain that pace to lead the league in CS% (55%) as well as in double plays as a catcher (16). His batting average would fade dramatically, however, dropping all the way to .220 by the end of the season, but he was still contributing with a .361 OBP in 312 plate appearances. Walters's bat never got started at all, and hitting just .199/.239/.236 in 205 plate appearances.
Technically a major league rookie when he joined the team, the 29-year-old Hannah was treated like a veteran from his four seasons in the well-respected Pacific Coast League. In addition, he was -- literally as well as figuratively, at 6'1" -- one of the few players on the team who could see eye-to-eye with the 6'2" Babe Ruth when he was acquired prior to the 1920 season. When Ruth got into squabbles with diminutive manager Miller Huggins, it was often Hannah's duty to keep the peace.
Yankee shortstop Roger Peckinpaugh, the Yankee captain from 1914 to 1921, described one such incident to long-time Yankee PR man Marty Appel in 1974:

"Once we were leaving Boston after a tough loss, and Babe was drunk, and he said he was gonna throw Huggins off the train! He was heading for his drawing room. On the way he stopped in the men’s room and punched this huge mirror. It fell into a million pieces. Me and Ernie Shore and Truck Hannah pulled him down to the ground and sat on him until he passed out. Truck — a big guy — puts him over his shoulder and moves him to the next car."

At the end of the season, the Yankees were happy enough with Hannah that they traded Roxy Walters to the Red Sox. For the next two years, the catching duties were almost evenly split between Hannah and Ruel, who was back from the Army with the end of World War I.
The "Muddy-Truck" tandem was colorfully named but disappointing, with Ruel hitting .255/.325/.306 (71 OPS+) in 560 PA and Hannah .243/.313/.317 (70 OPS+) in 553 PA. Catcher in those days was very much a defense-first position, and both had good gloves, but the Yankees (even with the newly acquired Babe Ruth having an 11.7 bWAR season) finished three games out of 1st in 1920.
Ruppert and Huston asked Huggins what the team needed to win, and his answer: a catcher.
At the end of the season, the Yankees sent Hannah back to the Pacific Coast League, and traded Ruel to the Red Sox for previously forgotten Yankee Wally Schang, the first in the long line of great Yankee catchers. In his five years with the Yankees, the switch-hitting Schang hit .297/.390/.406 (105 OPS+), and in the 1923 World Series -- the first of 27 won by the Yankees -- Schang played every inning of every game, went 7-for-22 (.318) with a double and three runs scored, and allowed just one stolen base.
Hannah would stay in the Pacific Coast League for the next 22 years as a player, coach, and manager. He had a great year with the Vernon Tigers in 1923, hitting .346 with 23 doubles and 6 home runs in 370 plate appearances. His final plate appearance came on May 19, 1940, when he was managing the Memphis Chicks. Two weeks shy of his 51st birthday, with both his catchers injured, Hannah caught both ends of a doubleheader and went 1-for-6.
Hannah retired from baseball two years later after his St. Paul Saints lost 15 games in a row -- 11 of them by one run! He said he couldn't sleep anymore, replaying every loss in his head over and over, second-guessing every decision he made as manager.
He retired to his ranch in Southern California, but remained active enough in the regional baseball scene that when the Los Angeles Angels played their first major league game in 1961, Hannah was selected to catch the ceremonial first pitch.
Truck Hannah died on April 27, 1982, five weeks shy of his 93rd birthday. His wife, Helen, died in October, a month before what would have been their 70th wedding anniversary.
Keep On Truckin':

• One of the more interesting aspects in researching information about Truck Hannah is in looking for pictures of him, you come across many photos of trucks owned by women named Hannah.
  
• Hannah made his major league debut against the great Walter Johnson. In his first major league plate appearance, he singled up the middle! He popped out his second time up, then struck out. His fourth time up he drew a walk against Johnson, advanced to second on a single, and scored his first major league run on a double, and the Yankees won, 6-3. Not a bad debut against the future Hall of Famer!
  
• According to his SABR biography: "Hannah’s daughter may have led a more interesting life than her ballplaying father. Helen Lorraine (Hannah) Campbell was one of the first women in Los Angeles to enlist in the Marine Corps during World War II, and retired from the Marine Corps Reserve in 1975 after 32 years of service. She was also a chaperone for several years with the Muskegon and Kalamazoo teams in the All American Girls Professional Baseball League, the league that inspired the 1992 movie A League of Their Own. At the age of 75 she went parasailing for the first time and at 78 sailed over Africa’s Serengeti plains in a hot-air balloon. She died in 2013 at the age of 97."
  
• On May 12, 1920, Hannah went 4-for-4 (all singles) with two runs and two RBIs in a 14-8 rout of the Chicago White Sox. Hannah singled twice in a seven-run 6th inning, as did pitcher Bob Shawkey; it was the first time in major league history that a pitcher and catcher each had two hits in the same inning.
  
• That was Hannah's best day as a major leaguer, but he had another four-hit day on September 11, 1920, with a double and three singles in five at-bats against the Cleveland Indians.
  
• Truck Hannah was the first major leaguer born in what would become North Dakota when he made his debut on April 15, 1918. He also is one of three Yankees born in North Dakota: Ken Hunt, an outfielder in the Yankee farm system from 1952 to 1960 who had a couple cups of coffee in the Bronx, and later played for the Angels and Senators; and long-time Cleveland Indians 1B/DH Travis Hafner, who ended his career with the Yankees in 2013. The most famous Yankee raised in North Dakota is Roger Maris, but he was actually born in Minnesota. The family moved to Fargo when Maris was 8 years old. A total of 20 major leaguers were born in North Dakota, and the best, by bWAR, was Angels outfielder and two-time All-Star Darin Erstad.
  
• Hannah is on the All-Palindromic Last Name Team, along with Dean Anna, Toby Harrah, Eddie Kazak, Dave Otto, Glenn Otto, Dick Nen, Robb Nen, Johnny Reder, Juan Salas, and Mark Salas.
  
• In 1917, Hannah was behind the plate for the Salt Lake City Bees in the Pacific Coast League when former New York Giants outfielder Fred Snodgrass came up to the plate for the Vernon Tigers. Hannah, by this time a 28-year-old nine-year minor league veteran and hitting a respectable .292, wasn't impressed. "So you're a big leaguer? I guess you're going to come out here and show us how the Giants used to do it, eh? Let's see if you can hit this one." That off-season, major league teams asked Snodgrass for his opinion on the top players in the Pacific Coast League, and his report on Hannah: "I don’t like him personally, but I must say he is the best all around catcher in this league, and my dislike for him does not blind me to that fact."
  
• George Halas -- who would later be the founder of the Chicago Bears -- was a 24-year-old rookie on the New York Yankees in 1919. He was on the bench sitting next to Truck Hannah during a game against the Tigers, staring wide-eyed as his boyhood idol, the legendary Ty Cobb, strode to the plate. Hannah, maybe pranking the rookie, told Halas he ought to razz Cobb to try to throw him off his game. Halas did as he was told, and to his surprise, got a reaction: Cobb dropped his bat, marched over to the Yankee dugout, and pointed at Halas. "Punk! I'll see you after the game! Don't forget, punk!" Halas, a Navy veteran and a college football player, was no punk but not exactly looking forward to a brawl against the famously irascible Cobb. He stayed in the locker room as long as possible, hoping Cobb would be gone by the time he emerged, but when he finally came out, the Georgia Peach was waiting for him. "I like your spirit, kid," Cobb said, "but don't overdo it when you don't have to." Halas said it was a lesson he never forgot.
  
• Speaking of Cobb, he told a sportswriter he didn't care for Hannah's distracting patter behind the plate: “This fellow Hannah of the New York club keeps me busier at the plate than any other catcher in the league. I don’t like letting a recruit outtalk me, and in my effort to keep my end of the conversation, I had my work cut out for me making base hits off those Yankee pitchers.”
  
• Carl Mays, who had pitched for the Red Sox since 1915, was acquired by the Yankees on July 30, 1919. Delighted to go from the 38-48 Red Sox to the 48-38 Yankees, Mays made the rounds in the clubhouse, shaking hands. When he got to Hannah, he offered his hand, but Hannah shoved him away, then charged after him. Mays backed up until Hannah vaulted over a table and cornered him against a wall -- and only then did Hannah shake his hand. "We're even," Hannah said, grinning. Since the previous season, Hannah and Mays had been feuding. Mays took great pride in keeping his uniform spotless, and hated Hannah's trick of spitting tobacco juice onto his shoes while batting. So every time Hannah came up to the plate, Mays came "up and in" to make him hit the dirt. In April, the last time they'd face each other, Mays plunked him. But now they were teammates and all was forgiven. Ironically, a year later, Mays would kill Cleveland Indians shortstop Ray Chapman with a pitch that hit him in the head.
  
• During the off seasons, Hannah played in the California Winter League, believed to be the only integrated league in professional baseball at the time. Hannah also played against Negro Leaguers when barnstorming with Babe Ruth in 1920 and Dizzy Dean in 1935.
  
• Prior to the 1927 season, Babe Ruth made a silent movie called Babe Comes Home. Based on a short story called "Said With Soap," it had quite the plot: Ruth is Babe Dugan, a ballplayer whose tobacco-chewing habit means his uniform is always stained. He falls in love with Vernie, the laundress who cleans the team uniforms, but she wants him to stop chewing tobacco. Babe then goes into a slump, and finds himself on the bench. Vernie finally relents and gives him a plug of tobacco, and Babe hits a game-winning home run. The movie was filmed at Wrigley Field -- not that one, but a field with the same name in Los Angeles. It was the home stadium for the Los Angeles Angels, and on the Angels were several ex-Yankees, including Truck Hannah. Ruth was much more interested in his old pals than in the movie, and the exasperated director struggled to keep Ruth's attention. Finally, he moved Ruth to a distant park of the stadium, as far away as he could from Hannah and the other ex-Yankees. But Hannah and the others kept mischievously hitting balls in his direction, causing Ruth to botch take after take!
  
• Hannah was in two movies himself, both times as a baseball playing extra. The films are notable because they are both early "talkies". His first appearance was in 1928's Warming Up, about a pitcher (played by Richard Dix, later a star in westerns) who falls in love with the team owner's daughter (played by Jean Arthur, who would later co-star with Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington). A year later Hannah was in Fast Company, about a baseball player (Jack Oakie) who is inspired to greatness thanks to fan letters he thinks come from a beautiful woman (Evelyn Brent) but are actually written by his conniving manager (Skeets Gallagher). In 1940, Oakie was nominated for an Academy Award for his performance as a parody of Benito Mussolini in Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator.
  
• Joe DiMaggio, still a teenager, played for the San Francisco Seals in the Pacific Coast League from 1932 to 1935. Hannah, with the Los Angeles Angels, played against him often. Prior to DiMaggio's debut with the Yankees in 1936, a sportswriter asked the former big leaguer for his scouting report on DiMaggio. "They'll be comparing him to Tris Speaker and Harry Hooper and those fellows in a year or two," Hannah said. Truck was right: Speaker and Hooper were both Hall of Fame outfielders, and of course, so was the Yankee Clipper.
  
• In 1936, Hannah was a playecoach for the Los Angeles Angels. Ted Williams, already a legendary hitter (and pitcher) from his exploits at Herbert Hoover High School in San Diego, was being courted by both major and minor league teams. Ted's father, Sam Williams, was acting as his agent, and he arranged a meeting with Truck Hannah to talk about a contract with the Angels. "When my dad went down to talk to him, Hannah said, 'Where's the kid?'" Williams later recalled. "Dad says, 'He's not here.' Hannah said, 'Well, for crying out loud, go get him. He's the one I want to talk to, not you!'" Insulted, Sam Williams walked away. Instead, Williams -- after turning down offers from the Yankees and the Cardinals -- signed with the newly formed San Diego Padres of the Pacific Coast League. Had he signed with the Angels, Williams likely would have been a Cub, as they were a Chicago affiliate. (But Williams, a San Diego native, likely would have signed with the Padres even if Hannah had made a better impression.)
  
• Hannah's mouth almost cost his team another teenaged prospect. In 1934, 16-year-old Steve Mesner went to an open try-out for the Los Angeles Angels, and Hannah was helping to evaluate the prospects. He took one look at Mesner and shouted, "Get out of here, kid! You're too little!" Mesner started walking off the field, but someone told him to go back. During batting practice, he hit three balls over the fence! During a fielding drill, he was handling every chance, and the coach kept hitting them harder and harder, expecting the teenager to boot one. He didn't, and the team gave him a contract. Mesner hit .328 in three years with the Angels before going to the Chicago Cubs and later the Cincinnati Reds.
  
• The winter of 1918-1919 was gripped by the "Spanish Flu" epidemic and, in a scene that would be familiar to all of us today, the players, umpires, and fans in a Southern California winter league wore face masks during the game. A photo ran in the newspaper with the catcher misidentified in the caption as "Trash" Hannah of the New York Yankees!
  
• Hannah is a member of the Pacific Coast League Hall of Fame. Some sources say he was an inaugural member when it was created in 1943; other sources say he was inducted in 1950. Other notable Yankees in the PCL HoF include Frankie Crosetti, Joe DiMaggio, and Casey Stengel.
  
• Hannah's daughter, U.S. Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant Helen Hannah Campbell, went to Whittier High School with Richard Nixon, and later served as a docent the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace in Yorba Linda, California. Richard Nixon, who grew up watching Hannah as a player and manager in the Pacific Coast League, said in a 1983 interview: "I remember Truck Hannah. He was a great catcher and could hit."
  
• In 1925, Hannah helped organize the Association of Professional Ball Players of America, created to assist former professional baseball players who are injured, elderly, or destitute. The APBPA is still in existence today!
  

Near the end of his career, Truck Hannah was interviewed about the rigors of being a catcher. He said during his 30 years in baseball he'd broken every finger on his right hand at least twice. "What the hell, it's all part of the game," he said. "It sure was fun while it lasted. Even with busted hands and fingers and everything else, I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

6/5/23 Update (Part II of my Amazing Chiari Recovery Tale): "The Cerebellum Ain't Just About Balance, Baby"
So I want to make something very clear. From here on out, I wouldn't consider this a typical Chiari recovery tale at all anymore. As far as I know, it is not usual to have this level of emotion regulation benefit from a Chiari Surgery. But... that doesn't mean it /can't/ happen. Because clearly it's happened for me.
If you watch Dr. Stieg's "This Is Your Brain Podcast: Chiari in Adults" (the same one that convinced me to drive to NYC for consultation with him:
https://www.youtube.com/live/KyGGoA3Y2ko?feature=share
.... you'll see he takes questions at the end. And one of the questions he answers is about whether there are any big cognitive and emotional effects from Chiari. And he essentially says no -- unless there's hydrocephalus, water on the brain, being caused too, why whould there be? The cerebellum isn't really involved with higher cognitive and emotional stuff. It's more about the balance and all that. Of course, the stress and misery and anxiety of living with any chronic pain condition affects people's mental health. So certainly resolving the Chiari may still sort of indirectly help with their mental health in all sorts of very significant ways.
Ok. Fair enough. But here's where, if I were having an argument with him about this here and now (which I guess I am! Because that's apparently just how I am -- sorry, Dr. Stieg, intending no disrespect to your knowledge and authority -- you're the best!)... I would turn the same phrase he used with me in discussing my physical symptom resolution right back at him: "The proof is in the pudding." What he meant when he used that phrase was that, although of course we are going to do a follow-up MRI in a few months, and see how things stand, the imaging is not really important. The evidence is clear. I had the surgery, and all my physical problems (the crippling head aches and neck aches, the trouble choking on liquids and drooling, the numb/weak hands, episodes of dizziness, etc.) almost instantly resolved. We already know the surgery worked. I would say the proof is in the pudding about the drastic mental health/emotional changes I have experienced since the Chiari decompression as well.
So first, I guess I'm gonna have to get real with ya about the the psychiatric struggles. (Oh well. I never was that private of a person to start. I'll talk to just about anyone about just about anything. Always been that way.) So my struggles in this area, summarized:
I had my first bad episode of depression when I was about 13. There were definite stressors, and I would define it as the worst year of my life. Among the stressors, in brief: I was in 7th grade, first year of junior high. I was HORRIBLY bullied, harassed, and teased by the other kids. Mostly girls. They'd wait for me at my locker in mean girl gaggles, taunt and laugh at me throughout the halls, etc. It was *BAD*. Very bad. I can only speculate as to the reasons I got it so bad. I had gender-non-conforming interests. I hated wearing dresses and didn't like the stupid girl stuff I was supposed to care about. I liked Dungeons & Dragons and fighting video games and would rather hang out with my brother and his friends than any of the boring girls I knew. I kind of felt like I /was/ a boy, actually. No different from my brother. But needless to say, no one else really saw it that way. What they DID see... was that I was different, and not following the rules of what I was supposed to like and how I was supposed to act. And boy. The shit I got for it. Like I said... it was bad. They called me "The Thing" when they passed me in the halls ("Look at that THING! What is it? A boy or a girl? We don't know -- we'll just have to call it THING. Ha ha!"). They harassed and teased me about my breasts, because I was one of the first to develop ("There goes the goddess of puberty -- ha ha, goddess of puberty!") And, of course, I was smart - a nerd - always raising my hand to answer the questions in class - so that probably didn't help my popularity any either.
Anyway. No one ever stuck up for me. There were the kids who actively harassed me, and the ones who desperately avoided me to avoid being associated with me. I had no friends in the 7th grade. I had a few, back in the 6th. But lost them all when the 3 elementary schools got merged into the big junior high or whatever. Absolutely NO ONE thought it would be a good idea to associate with me. And so they didn't. It was SO bad, SO miserable, I thought about doing all kinds of crazy things to escape having to go back to school. Maybe... if I did something REALLY crazy, like stab my brother or something (who, by the way, I adored, but that was how desperate I was - like, you know, just a LITTLE stab wound, just for show) -- they'd just put me in a psych hospital or something and I'd never have to go back to school again? I obviously spent a lot of time thinking about killing myself. My mother ultimately ended up having to move me to an entirely different school because of the level of bullying. And it did help somewhat. (Also, the next year, I met my first boyfriend - which meant that I finally also had a friend - and it's no exaggeration to say that probably saved my life. We were inseparable for the next 3 years. He didn't care that I was a girl who kicked ass at Streetfighter. We spent our time playing Streetfighter together.)
13 was also the year my parents divorced. So like I said. A bad, bad year. And... I know that is about the time when I started to come emotionally off the rails and things changed for me. So I always sort of just assumed... that my brokenness was all the result of this social trauma I'd been through or what not. I mean, we all try to make sense of ourselves and our experiences somehow, through some sort of story, explanation. And that became my self-narrative.
Specifically, the sort of mental health struggles I ended up with were major emotion regulation issues. Like way exaggerated reactions to small things. High level of emotional reactivity, particularly rejection sensitivity, and high level of obsessive-compulsive level rumination and depression. Struggled with these things basically for life since, and always just assumed, well, that's how I am. Guess my experiences broke me, or maybe I was broken for birth. The way I tend to characterize myself in short-hand is as a "mini-borderline." (I'm a genuine licensed psychologist, so I can throw terms like that around if I want to!) And you can look up symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder if you're interested in learning more about that. But here is how I would qualitatively describe my problems:
A high level of emotional immaturity. It is like a 4-year-old child is running the show emotionally. And I can SEE it happening at the time (I have no problem with my higher cognitive functions!) -- I can no I am being ridiculous, over-reacting, being childish, whatever, but I unfortunately can't CONTROL that reaction. My stunted capacity for emotional regulation lost me a lot of friends. A lot of relationships. I was "too much" for a lot of people to deal with in that way. When I was sad, I was *TOO* intensely sad, boyfriends told me. SCARY sad. I was clingy. I was needy. I couldn't self-soothe. I hated being alone more than anything. My 4-year-old emotional self was always quivering in fear and always looking for somebody to save them. But there was never anybody around when they desperately needed that comfort and reassurance.
No problem with higher cognitive capacities. And was always of course embarrassed, ashamed, and so on for knowing there was something wrong with me and I wasn't able to function like other people in a "mature" emotional way. But I couldn't change it. Not after more than 10 years of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy or Dialective Behavioral Therapy or insight-oriented therapy or trauma-based therapy. Not after trying a dozen different anti-depressants and mood stabilizers. I guessed it was just who I was. I guessed I was just too broken by my trauma history or whatever to ever really fix.
And that was the story I told myself. To make sense of who I was and why.
Only... what IF. It had never really been true. What if... there had been a pretty significant organic component the whole entire time? What if it had a little something to do with my brain sliding into my spinal canal and blocking CSF flow? Well... let's talk about the what-if.
In doing my week of deep-dive research into Chiari (since being diagnosed on 5/5/23, and meeting with Dr. Stieg for MRI review and consultation on 5/18), I learned a thing or two about Chiari
For example, I learned from Dr. Judy Hwang at Johns Hopkins
https://youtu.be/xQjToJy4LO8
... that although Chiari is congenital, there is OFTEN a particular moment that people can remember that triggered their symptoms. That these are often things like head blows and whiplash. (Which, of course, makes total sense. The force of the incident made the herniation worse, or as she mentions, due to the Chiari the person probably doesn't have the natural reserve of CSF that they should bathing and protecting the brain either.
And I learned this. That there's a good amount of evidence to show the cerebellum ain't just about balance, baby:
https://www.imrpress.com/journal/JIN/17/4/10.31083/j.jin.2018.04.0414/htm
"Recently, different studies have provided evidence that the presence of cerebellar degeneration or stroke may involve cognitive deficits beyond motor impairment, including the ability to form concepts and other language disorders [1, 2], impairment in executive functions [3], and visuospatial deficits [4], accompanied in many cases by a regressive personality, and emotional lability or dramatic mood swings."
[...] "cerebellar cognitive affective syndrome described by Schmahmann and Sherman [5] as characterized by the following: (a) Disturbances of executive function, including deficient planning, set-shifting, abstract reasoning, working memory, and decreased verbal fluency, (b) Impaired spatial cognition, including visuospatial disorganization and impaired visuospatial memory, (c) Linguistic difficulties, including dysprosodia, agrammatism, and mild anomia, and (d) Personality change, characterized by flattening or blunting of affect, and disinhibited or inappropriate behavior. [...] Personality changes include flattening or blunting of affect, disinhibited behaviors, such as over-familiarity, flamboyance, impulsive actions, humorous but inappropriate and flippant comments, regressive, childlike behaviors, and obsessive-compulsive traits."
Now, far be it from me to gain-say personal hero and actual expert in the field Dr. Philip Stieg (those who know me are probably laughing -- I am the sort of person who will argue with anyone about anything. KIND of a favorite personal hobby, and at times a bit annoying, as I'm sure my family and friends would attest). I know he said in that lecture that Chiari wouldn't be expected to have significant cognitive or emotional effects unless hydrocephalus was also at play.
And maybe this is all just simple, 100% placebo effect. And the seemingly miraculous benefits will all fade away soon. I'm just sayng... since waking up from my Chiari surgery, my mood has been wonderful. Calm, happy. No more depression, anxious rumination, weird obsessive-compulsive fixations... I kept assuming, of course, that this was just a temporary effect of pain medications, or muscle relaxant medications, or steroids, or SOMETHING. Maybe the steroids had triggered a hypomanic high, as the body's hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis was working on straightening itself back out. Maybe it was just the VAST, VAST relief of pretty much all the physical pain and problems that had been torturing me for the past 7 years suddenly being gone. I mean, obviously a mood this great wasn't actually going to LAST. Right? But nice to enjoy it while it does, anyway. I literallly called my first week after surgery "magical." My magical week. Emotionally calm and happy in a way I literally could not remember EVER having experienced. Sure, my neck and skull had been split open and hurt a little. But I honestly didn't care. I just felt so overall good. And DIFFERENT, emotionally. And it manifested in all kinds of little ways
I told you about my 4-year-old child emotional part. Always needy and scared. It's practically like I have no sense of object-permanence - like within a few days of a friend being out of sight, I can't even be sure that they exist anymore. And so that causes a lot of issues for me with this one particularly close friend of ours. He's not really a caller or a texter or a stay in touch type. Which has caused me all kinds of misery and struggles, because of my own emotional deficits and neediness. But.... from the moment I woke up from surgery. I didn't /have/ that constant quivering 4-year-old fear anymore. I knew this friend was my friend and cared about me. I knew I'd seem him again soon, even if not right then. It was completely, competely different. Another example -- weird obsessive-compulsive stuff around eating. I would often be petrified with fear, due to this overpowering conviction that if I got too fat, no one would love me anymore. I'd do weird highly unhealthy restricted eating and over-exercising things when I got into that mode because I was just so fixated on it and terrified about it. Another 5 lbs, and maybe no one would be capable of loving me anymore.
I noticed immediately after the Chiari surgery I had no concerns about it. I was able to eat when I was hungry without any worry at all. I knew people would love me whether I was fat or not. It had nothing to do with whether my friends (or my husband) loved me. I could just like... eat like a normal person without worrying about it at all. As much as I wanted. Whenever I was hungry. So nice, right???
So even though I warned myself not to get ahead of myself, and that these were probably just temporary effects of feeling a whole hell of a lot of instant pain relief... as the days passed... and passed... and I remained content and happy and basically didn't have ANY of my former mental health struggles at all... I began to wonder if something else had really been going on here all along. And thinking back, and back, on when my real mood regulation difficulties first began. Age 13. And what Dr. Judy Hwang had said about trauma. About a lot of people being able to recall a particular trauma -- head blow, whiplash -- around the time their symptoms began. And then I remembered something that I'd never even told Dr. Stieg about my history -- because it hadn't fit the personal narrative I'd created, right, of my own emotional struggles, and I'd kind of forgotten about it.
I *did* have my first traumatic brain injury at age 13. My family was frolicking at a winter party and we foolishly decided it would be a good idea to try to navigate this metal canoe down this steep icy hill as a sled. We hit a tree. I hit my head and was have thrown out. I was unconcious and seizing on the ground. I had a bit of a headache and concussion afterward, but doc said I could count down by 7s, and was probably fine.
What if I had Chiari to start, and it was worse herniated by the TBI, and *that* is why all the real emotional struggles began for me at that time? And what if it had been this cognitive-affective cerebellar syndrome thing *ALL* the goddamned time, my whole entire life since? I've had MORE trauma since, whiplash from car accident in recent years, so that could again explain a worsening of herniation and rapid escalation of symptoms in recent years.
Another thing I wonder about is my severe visual-spacial deficits. I am one of those people who can drive a route every day, a thousand times, and still need a GPS to get there. I have a true disability in that regard. I wonder if that has anything to do with the Chiari. I wonder if that should have been a clue all along to the organic nature of the problem
So I am still thinking, and processing, and exploring, and figuring out.
But the excting upshot is, it really DOES appear so far that the Chiari surgery solved not only all my PHYSICAL problems... but emotional problems I'd been struggling with since the age of 13 as well.
Here's another thing in favor of a cerebellar cognitive-affective syndrome being a significant cotributing cause toward my emotional regulation issues. Let's look at what happened with my mood the first week post-surgery:
Day 1 (5/24): (immediately after waking up from surgery)
A little lability. That night at dinner, I cried because I couldn't get the food cart slid over enough over the hospital bed to eat without dropping two pieces of saucy pasta on my night shirt, and couldn't move my neck more forward to eat because of the surgery. (My husband solved the problem by holding the plate close to my mouth while I ate. Thanks, dear. After food I felt better.
Day 2 (5/25): Wonderful mood
Day 3 (5/26): Wonderful mood
Day 4 (5/27): Wonderful mood
Day 5 (5/28): Wonderful mood
Day 6 (5/29): Wonderful mood
Day 7 (5/30): Wonderful mood
Day 8 (5/31): Wonderful mood.
So 8 days of consecutive great mood and none of my typica emotional issues or struggles.
BUT then... we have Day 9. 6/1. When I started to feel really terrible. In all the ways I /usually/ feel terrible again. Here's an excerpt I was writing to my friend about it: "Well, first major downturn in mood last night at about 10:30 pm. I guess I am still me. And Chiari surgery didn’t fix EVERYTHING. I was feeling *SO* good for a few days I guess I must have left my hopes get a little unrealistically high." Back to pacing, crying, agitated, depressive rumination, feeling that nobody loved me. Like I'd always felt before. Assumed that was going to be the end of my "magical" post-surgery week.
Except that... it WASN'T the end of my happy mood bubble. I continued feeling pretty good every day since then. But you know what WAS different that night? The one night I felt so terrible? I'd apparently developed a strep infection. So that gets you thinking, doesn't it? An infection, causing maybe some swelling... and triggering a return to symptoms like I had always had before. Strep was treated with antibiotics and my mood has continued to be wonderful since, with no returns to the old emotional troubles since. No depresssion, my extreme mood reactivity, no anxious panicky feelings of friends "disappearing" when they are out of my side. Just a seemingly full and complete ability to emotionally process as an adult rather than a 4-year-old.
So. Could all those emotion regulation problems REALLY just have been the result of cerebellar cognitive-affective syndrome? What story do I tell myself now? About why I have always been the way I have... and how that has suddenly so drastically changed?
And kind of drastic it is. Let me give you an example of my typical emotional functioning before Chiari surgery was like.
Strep/swollen brain night (old brain): "Boo hoo, I have no friends, my friend's aren't talking to me, nobody loves me, I have no friends, no cards." Followed by rantic pacing and crying. I then proceeded to send one of my dearest friends an e-mail accusing him of wishing I had died or clearly not caring at all if I had. (Clingy, terrified 4-year-old clearly driving the emotional truck. It is embarrassing, the way that 4-year-old acts. But I could never control it.
And then here, for point of comparison, is my emotional functioning AFTER Chiari surgery: (once I got the strep infection sorted) New Chiari-fixed brain: "Wow. I should probably let all my friends know what's going on." Proceeds to email 15 friends and tell them what is going on, receiving lots of instant emails and concern and support from everyone and one particularly impressive get well bouquet.
It seems like it iso much easier for me to function like a reasonable, emotionally mature adult and process emotional information appropriately. Now that brain is no longer falling down my spine. And I guess that's really maybe not so suprising, right??
So overall, I continue to be amazed and delighted by the results of my surgery. But there is really a LOT to process here. I feel like a whole brand new person, a Version 2.0. I hope my friends like the new me! It is definitely going to take some time to get to know this new me myself. But don't get me wrong -- I totally can't wait to get started!!

It started as a very realistic feeling of me texting my ex for a while and then just turned into someone breaking into my house and stealing everything while the rest of my family was asleep. I hate having to call people so I literally had to ask him in my dream if I should call the cops. I called them and tried whispering because the person was in the next room and everyone was asleep but the operator lady couldn’t hear me. I started telling her how I was scared and they stole my computer and wanted to hold my cat for support but he was being mean. I thought I heard something downstairs so I start getting out of bed and noticed my computer back where it always is. I walked downstairs and I realised it wasn’t real and I was dreaming the entire thing and essentially called the cops for no reason. Then I remembered fake calls are illegal so I had to make up some story to tell them so I didn’t get arrested. Then my mother woke up and I told her my story and a fire truck showed up outside. The end.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but the only time we see him have a semi direct hand in a card game is when he plays Jackie Jrs hand when he sneaks up on him in a game of blackjack at the club his cousin Blundetto (the animal) would inherit.
Other than that Tony does everything under the sun. He does the numbers, bets football, baseball, the horses & he HOSTS poker games, but he doesn't play in them?
In a show like this I have to think this is somewhat intentional? Why does Tony bet on horses, baseball, football & roulette, but we never see him play traditional card games?
I mean his nephew robs a truck of pokeman cards, but Tony cant play a hand of blackjack?

If you are looking to finance a new pickup truck, you should be able to show to have spent some years in this business and have an above-par credit score. However, things are not easy and straightforward when your credit history is not appreciated and you are a start-up.
A couple of asset finance companies are out there who will be willing to consider your application for pickup truck finance, but the deal might be so attractive. Here are the things that you look out for to get the best deal.

Supporting documents

Truck finance involves a huge lending amount, so asset finance companies will be a bit reluctant to give the green light. Derogatory marks on your credit report will certainly call your financial commitment into question. In order not to have been turned down, you should submit supplement documents to bolster your credit profile.
For instance, if you were late on a mortgage, you can get a letter in writing from a mortgage provider that you are back in the saddle. Likewise, if you had a CCJ, you can attach the document to show that it is satisfied now. It will work to your advantage if you do not owe a single penny at the time of applying for these loans. Whittle down your existing debt as much as possible.

Leveraging references and contracts

Asset finance providers are more likely to approve the application if you have work already lined up. It shows that your truck will immediately be used for your business. Showing references and contracts is important for start-up companies.
They want to see your business will start earning as soon as possible. This ensures that the risk involved is not much. You are likely to get a deal at the most affordable interest rates. If you are applying for truck finance through the agency of a broker, ask them to provide some sort of letter like this.

A reference to previous truck financing

Submitting a reference to previous truck financing will come in handy, especially if your credit history is not so stellar. However, the default on payments of your previous truck cannot account for a less-than-perfect credit rating.
The record of older defaults and late payments continues to show up on your credit report and affects your credit score even though your financial behaviour starts to look up later. You will need evidence of commercial financing. Apart from purchase, it can be repair financing but cannot be personal vehicle financing.

Compensating ways

You should find out ways to offset the impact of your bad credit rating. For instance, you can offer a larger down payment if you have a poor credit history. It depends on the finance company you are looking for and how much they will demand the upfront payment.
However, if you choose a broker, they will send your application to lenders who are more likely to accept you with your current financial situation. Additional collateral is also a good way to mitigate the risk of the finance provider, so you get money at better interest rates.
Your lender will let you know what they want as second collateral. The approach of securing your loan against the second collateral is becoming more popular nowadays. However, this brings in a lot of risk. You should go with the idea of additional security only when you are sure your business will take off sooner rather than later.

Cash flow

Cash flow is the most important factor that a finance company will look at. If you are able to show a good cash flow at the end of the month or year, you may get the best deal.
It shows the potential of your business. If a lender does not ask you for it, you can provide your bank statement with other documents. However, you do not need to do so if your cash flow is not that strong.

To wrap up

Pickup truck financing is expensive. You should have a decent credit file and strong business income to prove that you will manage payments without any problems.
Unfortunately, your weak credit file and cash flows sometimes make it harder to get the nod. You may have to jump through hoops to get approval. Consider offsetting your weaknesses. You may put down a larger deposit to reduce the loan-to-value ratio.
Try to submit additional documents that show you to some advantage. If you are about to replace your current truck, you can also show a reference for previous truck financing. Submit contracts and references so your finance companies can gain confidence in your business. This is helpful when you are new to your business. Consult a broker, as they have a large panel of asset finance providers. They will choose a company that completely fits your application.

I never met my birth parents. They both died on a job when I was a baby, and I went into foster care. I didn’t have any interest in knowing anything about them; my adoptive parents are the ones who raised me.
However, everything changed a week ago when a group of men came knocking at my door. They wore what looked like military uniforms, but instead of the usual green, they wore a distinct red color instead. They loaded me, along with my foster parents into an unmarked matching red van. We were rushed to a farmhouse on the opposite side of Washington where the facility was heavily guarded with intimidating men and unfamiliar machines that appeared like they required several men to operate.
Being an IT major, I had no knowledge nor interest in these things. I’m not a runner, fighter or a strategist, so I couldn’t fathom what they wanted from me.
They relentlessly interrogated me for three days, bombarding me with questions and then, when they concluded that I was blissfully unaware, intimidated me with frightening information. Dumbfounded, I soaked in every ounce of knowledge they offered me. The new knowledge I gained made me see my parents in a new terrifying light. I couldn’t help but feel more resentment, adding on to the existing resentment I harboured. My parents not only betrayed themselves, but me as well and part of me feared that I would never be safe again. I couldn’t help but feel manipulated. They were long gone, but their past still controlled my fate.
I was eventually uprooted to a secondary protective facility, one in which I was not permitted to know the location of. For my own safety, they assured me. Once settled, they supplied me with new electronics and destroyed my old ones. They warned me that I was to stay under the radar, completely untraceable. Again, for my own protection. I was confident that given my knowledge of IT, software engineering and cyber security, I would remain unseen and untraceable to anyone who might be hunting me.
Now that I am sure I am safe, I can finally write this message and warn anyone connected to the initial bloodlines involved. It is crucial for my message to reach you.
The story begins with my biological grandfather. He worked for a branch of the government closely related to NASA. Following the moon landing there was a great deal of classified developments that the population was oblivious to. The department my grandfather worked for protecting the world against extra-terrestrial threats or extra-terrestrial terrorism as they described it.
Paranoia gripped them after the moon landing and they took drastic measures to prepare. Five years later, they deciphered the first communications and signals from frequencies previously unknown to them. These signals were so powerful that they destroyed entire systems, disrupted the power grid and took down entire radio stations. This special branch of government discovered they could tap into these signals which revealed that our galaxy has been under constant surveillance. This was ironically discovered by extra-terrestrials working within this branch, tasked to monitor and prevent extra-terrestrial terrorism on a much larger scale.
At this point in their story, the soldiers were reluctant to divulge more. Insisting that they already revealed too much. But I demanded full transparency, refusing to cooperate with their equivocation. It was essential that I know my involvement in these matters. So, they continued, placing a huge box in front of me, overflowing with papers. They swiftly unveiled its contents to me, Stacks of documents and old tapes they tossed onto the table, one after the another.
The documents contained, amongst others, details of weapons the organisation, known as ESA were crafting and testing along with formulas to create immensely powerful weapons. They used advanced calculations to try and manufacture better equipment that could be sent up to space. They were doing this undisclosed, to monitor and learn as much as they could.
The ESA spent millions designing and building a spacecraft to contain their equipment, if the situation ever called for it. It is still a work in progress. All of this is actively happening, the documents and footage stamped up until a week ago.
I opened a document with a list of classified individuals who had this information. Presidents, EU members, a handful of the rich and powerful, who used this information to design and construct underground bunkers, granting that, if anything were to ever happen, they’d be prepared. These aren’t a new concept though, the extremely rich and powerful have been known to publicly sponsor new technological advancements. Well some may think this gave them the upper hand, it eventually proved their foolishness.
The following is what I saw in the most crucial videos:
Video 1: dated 1975 The video opens in an empty cell, appearing to be a reinforced holding chamber. At first, the room is dark, then the spotlights switch on, illuminating the centre of the room. Now in the light, I could clearly make out what looked like a reinforced metal wall with chains protruding from it. The focus shifts to the back of the room where a large door opens and something is dragged in a sheet, concealing its identity, and tied down with thick chains. The video ends.
Video 2: June 1975 I saw about 20 armed men entered the room and start to unwrap the sheet from what they hauled in. After several minutes of unwrapping, the identity of the thing they brought in is revealed.
There seemed to be a glitch in the recording, at different points in the video the screen was covered in static. The sound was muted, and the figure was hard to make out. It appeared that the creature was attempting to change shape, vibrating as if to phase into a different shape. Despite its best attempts, it remained unsuccessful and reverted back to its original form. .
Video 3: the very next day wnd June 1975
The video opens with the creature fully in focus. Within the 18 hours of footage, the creature is constantly seen attempting to change form. It fails every time, but that doesn’t prevent it from trying again. It looks like a blur, occasionally a second head or what appears to be a human hand. It’s apparent the creature has shapeshifting abilities.
The next 200 videos are identical. To the naked eye, it seemed like a loop. But it wasn’t. The creature was, however, relentless in its attempt to free itself or escape.
Video 204: October 1975
This time the alien appeared to be asleep, head limp and no movement. This video had sound, but it was accompanied by a high pitch buzz that made my ears hurt. At the six-hour mark, the faint cry of a baby can be heard before gradually escalating into full-blown screaming.
At first I suspected that one of the scientists had brought their child along, but the agents assured me the crying was coming from the creature. As the video progresses, the cries grow louder and more demanding, eventually accompanied by a deep voice. Close to the end of the video, 22 hours in, multiple voices begin to scream simultaneously, causing everything to shake.
The documents show that, after this incident, the cage was reinforced. The next few videos are static, proving that the creature has the uncanny ability to manipulate video and disrupt frequencies.
Video 340 February 1982
The creature, with its brown discoloration, possessed crocodile like scales and an eagle like head, but it was entirely reptilian in nature. It stood at a whopping 12 feet tall and was covered in an unknown slime like substance.
The chains were substantially thicker than they were years earlier, and the cage has been fortified. It looked like a different room altogether.
The agents explained that the creature got loose and attacked 12 soldiers, absorbing them into itself instead of merely killing or eating them.
The creature was taken to Nevada, close to the desert, where a strong armoured underground structure had been constructed, far from civilization. The facility has been equipped with high level security precautions which allowed sections of the building to be sealed off and rigged to explode, guaranteeing that, if necessary, the building would collapse in on itself, trapping the creature within its cage, underneath the rubble.
The creature mirrored the image I conjured up in my head when I pictured the devil; brown, scaly, a demonic voice. The eyes were its most terrifying feature, shaped like that of a reptilian, but blood red. I counted 4 horns on its head, and it bore a pair of nasty fangs. Its feet bore the resemblance of a dinosaur, but it lacked a tale. Once the creature was no longer phasing in and out, it settled on a more consistent appearance, one that was easier to recognize.
Video 341 February 1982
This video marked the first appearance of my grandfather. He entered, along with four other men in lab coats, carrying a large syringe, approximately the size of my arm. He stuck it into the beast’s heart, causing it to instantly fall into a deep sleep. He proceeded to connect various machines onto the slumbering creature, attaching electrodes to its head and chest which were linked to a sizeable computer or something that resembled a computer. The video cuts off after this, leaving us to guess what occurred next.
Video 343 February 1982 The lights in the room were far brighter than before, and it once again lacked the presence of sound. The reason for this remained unknown.
Within the room stood a table filled with an assortment of equipment that appeared to be severely damaged. The lights flickered at intervals, and the creature began to phase in and out once more. This made it difficult to distinguish its appearance amid the static moments and blurred movements. The scientists observed the creature a safe distance away.
The scientists were relying on a certain frequency they discovered to keep the creature at bay. It seemed to produce positive results for the next few videos.
The videos that followed held a similar pattern. The creature remained silent, wired to machines while people came in and out taking notes or the occasional blood or slime sample. The creature remained composed, not once attempting to shift or escape again.
According to the agents’ records, everything proceeded as planned. My grandfather welcomed his first son, my father in 1975, he subsequently resumed his project until his resignation in 2008 when he was 55. A year later, he had a fatal heart attack, my grandmother following soot. My father was 34.
My father and his younger brother began working for ESA in 2004, when they were 28 and 24. New technological advancements introduced better cameras and electronic equipment for testing purposes. Since the technology became so advanced, their visits to the cage became as infrequent as once a week, or even less often. With new needles, enhanced equipment and upgraded data collection, the project transferred to electronic records ushering changes in the filing system.
While we waited for my transportation, they shared more classified documents. According to the notes, the once wild and violent creature was now unrecognisably tame and responsive, even answering questions. It remained unclear whether they had intentionally provoked it or stumbled upon a means to subdue it.
The circumstances surrounding my birth were strange. My dad impregnated a college classmate, and they made the mutual decision to put me up for adoption since neither of them had the desire to raise a child. My mother was studying biology and my father, a young genius physicist that found it hard to understand basic human interaction as it was. According to my foster parents, I was born in 2000, but the data I was presented proved I was born two years prior. This revelation had a more profound effect on me than anything else I’d seen.
Regardless, I was immediately given up for adoption and my existence was all but forgotten about. My adoptive parents moved to Iowa, and that’s where I lived up until 2018 when I left for Harvard. I always wondered what my birth parents were like. My adoptive parents told me I was a genius and speculated that I inherited my brain from somewhere. It’s an uncanny feeling; the knowledge that every aspect of my life was monitored.
The videos documenting the creature continued for the next 6 years. It became routine, apart from the indistinct chatter from the observing scientists and other government employees. There were no other sounds, incidents or noteworthy occurrences.
The tests revealed that the creature’s biology was predominantly alien, with no genetic material in common with humans. The scientists highlighted the alarming fact that the creature’s DNA was ever changing, resulting in frequent sample collection and analysis.
They concluded that, the creature was still a baby at the time of capture, which made it easier to contain. They did, however, underestimate its shocking growth rate which resulted in the deaths of the 12 soldiers’ years prior. At the time, it was still in its adolescent phase. Further research uncovered that the creature had the unique ability to absorb the genetic material of the men it came into contact with. The more humans it absorbed, the more diverse its gene pool became. A portion of the genes obtained gradually became more similar to those observed in humans. It’s as if the creature dove into an immense pool of genes and, as it absorbed more humans, its genetic makeup gradually began to adopt more human like qualities. Although difficult to comprehend at first, the basic explanation is that with every absorption of genetic information, the creature’s genetic composition seemed to evolve, storing human qualities within its own gene and gradually becoming more human-like That is my understanding of it.
Which brings me to the final video they have. Prepare yourselves.
Video: mov5078436b The creature behaved normally before viewing was disrupted by static. Among the sudden legion of voices, it echoed my father’s name, simultaneously expanding in size which causes the surroundings to convulse. Alarms resounded, piercing the silence as the creature tugged at its chains, cracking the floor ceiling in its attempt to break free. An ear splitting roar escaped its mouth as hordes of armoured soldiers rushed the cage, massive tasers in hand. They zapped the creature at maximum voltage as it continued to roar, lights flickering excessively. The camera feed is interrupted again by bouts of static.
A second group arrived, armed heavily with guns, increasing the crowd to a total of 30. The gunfire was so severe that it affected the video’s audio. One of the chains bound to the roof of the cage had already broken loose by the time the third group of soldiers arrived. This group carried a machine emitting bursts of fire, which had no effect on the creature aside from antagonizing it. It releases a powerful blast from its hand, causing the room to tremble which shattered the bulletproof glass into millions of pieces and sent the men flying across the room. Both of the creature’s hands were now free, and it began to morph.
Finally, a fourth group arrived in heavily armoured suits, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They wielded lasers and what appeared to be a concentrated lightning gun. I was grateful they hadn’t made use of nuclear weapons which would have wiped everyone out. After every attempt, the creature remained standing. Now it was his turn.
The creature freed itself from the remaining shackles and unleashed a blast with both its hands. All that was left of the solders was a gruesome mess of blood where they stood. The air filled with a haunting scream that echoed throughout the halls. The creature released a menacing growl in the form of words that sent chills down my spine, “Dennis McCarthy”, my father’s name.
Right before the camera blacked out, I could have sworn he was in the brink of morphing into a human form, but the recording was cut short by the thunderous detonation of explosions that sent the building into destruction, burying the truth within its rubble.
The scientists, including my dad, were taken by the ESA (extra-terrestrial security agency) and hidden in a heavily guarded underground haven. They were issued new identities and relocated, which isn’t a new concept for the government.
As far as the drones’ visual feed could capture, the entire operation was terminated, leaving behind the collapsed and buried ruins of a facility that was once fully functional. It was under strict surveillance for any signs of life, but as the years rolled by, complacency set in, compromising their once strict security measures.
My father, uncle and the rest of the scientists assumed new lives and identities. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, they were dead.
In 2010, an unexpected interruption occurred. Reports indicated that the drones simultaneously malfunctioned, and the video feed erupted into static. A team arrived at the site to find it disrupted, all the drones lay in scattered heaps across the landscape.
Before anyone could investigate or react, all communication with the agents safeguarding the scientists was abruptly terminated. One be one, the connections were severed, leaving them permanently unreachable. When they reached my father’s safe house, they were greeted with his spine-chilling absence. He had vanished without so much as a trace that he had ever been there to begin with—no signs of struggle or any shred of evidence left behind. He was lost in an infinite void of mystery. The only indication that something was amiss was the eerie blue glow invading the monitors moments before blackout. The only accurate word for it would be ‘suction’, leading the team to believe that they had been absorbed. It remained a speculation, though plausible enough to send waves of panic up their spines.
As we speak governments around the world have been swept up into the desperate search to locate the alien as well as training an elite group of drone pilots and soldiers in an attempt to confront and defeat the elusive entity. Furthermore, every effort at locating surviving relatives of the missing scientists, including my father, had fallen short. They too had vanished into an infinite cloud of mystery, not one left unscathed to provide answers.
Considering the site’s altered state, the complete destruction of the drones and the fact that the creature they had held captive was constantly evolving, they were profoundly aware of the unravelling truth.
I am the sole living descendent of the scientists that worked for ESA. The creature has made it his mission to eliminate any and all traces of their existence. This is the sole reason I was upended from my life and relocated to a heavily guarded facility, and this is the reason I feel compelled to share their stories.
I couldn’t comprehend why the creature would hunt me since I didn’t share the sins of my father, but I felt paranoid and vigilant regardless. I couldn’t help but feel compelled to look into the disappearances myself, perhaps due to some lingering hopes that the information was wrong. My pursuit for answers turned up nothing, not even social media accounts. It was as if any trace of their existence was utterly obliterated, there was no digital footprint left.
The reason I am now convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that my life is in danger is because I have started catching glimpses of subtle movements in my peripheral, a shadowy figure lurking around the premises, disruptions in the signal of my appliances, even the phone I am using right now.
Call me foolish for even relying on the very technology that might lead to my demise, but I felt compelled to warn anyone else who might be a descendent of the team that worked for ESA: project corrosion.
If you’re aware then heed my words and flee. If you are unaware, observe the news for any sudden or unexplained disappearances, and I regret to inform you but, if you come across the creature then it’s too late.
Stay safe my friends

I never met my birth parents. They both died on a job when I was a baby, and I went into foster care. I didn’t have any interest in knowing anything about them; my adoptive parents are the ones who raised me.
However, everything changed a week ago when a group of men came knocking at my door. They wore what looked like military uniforms, but instead of the usual green, they wore a distinct red color instead. They loaded me, along with my foster parents into an unmarked matching red van. We were rushed to a farmhouse on the opposite side of Washington where the facility was heavily guarded with intimidating men and unfamiliar machines that appeared like they required several men to operate.
Being an IT major, I had no knowledge nor interest in these things. I’m not a runner, fighter or a strategist, so I couldn’t fathom what they wanted from me.
They relentlessly interrogated me for three days, bombarding me with questions and then, when they concluded that I was blissfully unaware, intimidated me with frightening information. Dumbfounded, I soaked in every ounce of knowledge they offered me. The new knowledge I gained made me see my parents in a new terrifying light. I couldn’t help but feel more resentment, adding on to the existing resentment I harboured. My parents not only betrayed themselves, but me as well and part of me feared that I would never be safe again. I couldn’t help but feel manipulated. They were long gone, but their past still controlled my fate.
I was eventually uprooted to a secondary protective facility, one in which I was not permitted to know the location of. For my own safety, they assured me. Once settled, they supplied me with new electronics and destroyed my old ones. They warned me that I was to stay under the radar, completely untraceable. Again, for my own protection. I was confident that given my knowledge of IT, software engineering and cyber security, I would remain unseen and untraceable to anyone who might be hunting me.
Now that I am sure I am safe, I can finally write this message and warn anyone connected to the initial bloodlines involved. It is crucial for my message to reach you.
The story begins with my biological grandfather. He worked for a branch of the government closely related to NASA. Following the moon landing there was a great deal of classified developments that the population was oblivious to. The department my grandfather worked for protecting the world against extra-terrestrial threats or extra-terrestrial terrorism as they described it.
Paranoia gripped them after the moon landing and they took drastic measures to prepare. Five years later, they deciphered the first communications and signals from frequencies previously unknown to them. These signals were so powerful that they destroyed entire systems, disrupted the power grid and took down entire radio stations. This special branch of government discovered they could tap into these signals which revealed that our galaxy has been under constant surveillance. This was ironically discovered by extra-terrestrials working within this branch, tasked to monitor and prevent extra-terrestrial terrorism on a much larger scale.
At this point in their story, the soldiers were reluctant to divulge more. Insisting that they already revealed too much. But I demanded full transparency, refusing to cooperate with their equivocation. It was essential that I know my involvement in these matters. So, they continued, placing a huge box in front of me, overflowing with papers. They swiftly unveiled its contents to me, Stacks of documents and old tapes they tossed onto the table, one after the another.
The documents contained, amongst others, details of weapons the organisation, known as ESA were crafting and testing along with formulas to create immensely powerful weapons. They used advanced calculations to try and manufacture better equipment that could be sent up to space. They were doing this undisclosed, to monitor and learn as much as they could.
The ESA spent millions designing and building a spacecraft to contain their equipment, if the situation ever called for it. It is still a work in progress. All of this is actively happening, the documents and footage stamped up until a week ago.
I opened a document with a list of classified individuals who had this information. Presidents, EU members, a handful of the rich and powerful, who used this information to design and construct underground bunkers, granting that, if anything were to ever happen, they’d be prepared. These aren’t a new concept though, the extremely rich and powerful have been known to publicly sponsor new technological advancements. Well some may think this gave them the upper hand, it eventually proved their foolishness.
The following is what I saw in the most crucial videos:
Video 1: dated 1975 The video opens in an empty cell, appearing to be a reinforced holding chamber. At first, the room is dark, then the spotlights switch on, illuminating the centre of the room. Now in the light, I could clearly make out what looked like a reinforced metal wall with chains protruding from it. The focus shifts to the back of the room where a large door opens and something is dragged in a sheet, concealing its identity, and tied down with thick chains. The video ends.
Video 2: June 1975 I saw about 20 armed men entered the room and start to unwrap the sheet from what they hauled in. After several minutes of unwrapping, the identity of the thing they brought in is revealed.
There seemed to be a glitch in the recording, at different points in the video the screen was covered in static. The sound was muted, and the figure was hard to make out. It appeared that the creature was attempting to change shape, vibrating as if to phase into a different shape. Despite its best attempts, it remained unsuccessful and reverted back to its original form. .
Video 3: the very next day wnd June 1975
The video opens with the creature fully in focus. Within the 18 hours of footage, the creature is constantly seen attempting to change form. It fails every time, but that doesn’t prevent it from trying again. It looks like a blur, occasionally a second head or what appears to be a human hand. It’s apparent the creature has shapeshifting abilities.
The next 200 videos are identical. To the naked eye, it seemed like a loop. But it wasn’t. The creature was, however, relentless in its attempt to free itself or escape.
Video 204: October 1975
This time the alien appeared to be asleep, head limp and no movement. This video had sound, but it was accompanied by a high pitch buzz that made my ears hurt. At the six-hour mark, the faint cry of a baby can be heard before gradually escalating into full-blown screaming.
At first I suspected that one of the scientists had brought their child along, but the agents assured me the crying was coming from the creature. As the video progresses, the cries grow louder and more demanding, eventually accompanied by a deep voice. Close to the end of the video, 22 hours in, multiple voices begin to scream simultaneously, causing everything to shake.
The documents show that, after this incident, the cage was reinforced. The next few videos are static, proving that the creature has the uncanny ability to manipulate video and disrupt frequencies.
Video 340 February 1982
The creature, with its brown discoloration, possessed crocodile like scales and an eagle like head, but it was entirely reptilian in nature. It stood at a whopping 12 feet tall and was covered in an unknown slime like substance.
The chains were substantially thicker than they were years earlier, and the cage has been fortified. It looked like a different room altogether.
The agents explained that the creature got loose and attacked 12 soldiers, absorbing them into itself instead of merely killing or eating them.
The creature was taken to Nevada, close to the desert, where a strong armoured underground structure had been constructed, far from civilization. The facility has been equipped with high level security precautions which allowed sections of the building to be sealed off and rigged to explode, guaranteeing that, if necessary, the building would collapse in on itself, trapping the creature within its cage, underneath the rubble.
The creature mirrored the image I conjured up in my head when I pictured the devil; brown, scaly, a demonic voice. The eyes were its most terrifying feature, shaped like that of a reptilian, but blood red. I counted 4 horns on its head, and it bore a pair of nasty fangs. Its feet bore the resemblance of a dinosaur, but it lacked a tale. Once the creature was no longer phasing in and out, it settled on a more consistent appearance, one that was easier to recognize.
Video 341 February 1982
This video marked the first appearance of my grandfather. He entered, along with four other men in lab coats, carrying a large syringe, approximately the size of my arm. He stuck it into the beast’s heart, causing it to instantly fall into a deep sleep. He proceeded to connect various machines onto the slumbering creature, attaching electrodes to its head and chest which were linked to a sizeable computer or something that resembled a computer. The video cuts off after this, leaving us to guess what occurred next.
Video 343 February 1982 The lights in the room were far brighter than before, and it once again lacked the presence of sound. The reason for this remained unknown.
Within the room stood a table filled with an assortment of equipment that appeared to be severely damaged. The lights flickered at intervals, and the creature began to phase in and out once more. This made it difficult to distinguish its appearance amid the static moments and blurred movements. The scientists observed the creature a safe distance away.
The scientists were relying on a certain frequency they discovered to keep the creature at bay. It seemed to produce positive results for the next few videos.
The videos that followed held a similar pattern. The creature remained silent, wired to machines while people came in and out taking notes or the occasional blood or slime sample. The creature remained composed, not once attempting to shift or escape again.
According to the agents’ records, everything proceeded as planned. My grandfather welcomed his first son, my father in 1975, he subsequently resumed his project until his resignation in 2008 when he was 55. A year later, he had a fatal heart attack, my grandmother following soot. My father was 34.
My father and his younger brother began working for ESA in 2004, when they were 28 and 24. New technological advancements introduced better cameras and electronic equipment for testing purposes. Since the technology became so advanced, their visits to the cage became as infrequent as once a week, or even less often. With new needles, enhanced equipment and upgraded data collection, the project transferred to electronic records ushering changes in the filing system.
While we waited for my transportation, they shared more classified documents. According to the notes, the once wild and violent creature was now unrecognisably tame and responsive, even answering questions. It remained unclear whether they had intentionally provoked it or stumbled upon a means to subdue it.
The circumstances surrounding my birth were strange. My dad impregnated a college classmate, and they made the mutual decision to put me up for adoption since neither of them had the desire to raise a child. My mother was studying biology and my father, a young genius physicist that found it hard to understand basic human interaction as it was. According to my foster parents, I was born in 2000, but the data I was presented proved I was born two years prior. This revelation had a more profound effect on me than anything else I’d seen.
Regardless, I was immediately given up for adoption and my existence was all but forgotten about. My adoptive parents moved to Iowa, and that’s where I lived up until 2018 when I left for Harvard. I always wondered what my birth parents were like. My adoptive parents told me I was a genius and speculated that I inherited my brain from somewhere. It’s an uncanny feeling; the knowledge that every aspect of my life was monitored.
The videos documenting the creature continued for the next 6 years. It became routine, apart from the indistinct chatter from the observing scientists and other government employees. There were no other sounds, incidents or noteworthy occurrences.
The tests revealed that the creature’s biology was predominantly alien, with no genetic material in common with humans. The scientists highlighted the alarming fact that the creature’s DNA was ever changing, resulting in frequent sample collection and analysis.
They concluded that, the creature was still a baby at the time of capture, which made it easier to contain. They did, however, underestimate its shocking growth rate which resulted in the deaths of the 12 soldiers’ years prior. At the time, it was still in its adolescent phase. Further research uncovered that the creature had the unique ability to absorb the genetic material of the men it came into contact with. The more humans it absorbed, the more diverse its gene pool became. A portion of the genes obtained gradually became more similar to those observed in humans. It’s as if the creature dove into an immense pool of genes and, as it absorbed more humans, its genetic makeup gradually began to adopt more human like qualities. Although difficult to comprehend at first, the basic explanation is that with every absorption of genetic information, the creature’s genetic composition seemed to evolve, storing human qualities within its own gene and gradually becoming more human-like That is my understanding of it.
Which brings me to the final video they have. Prepare yourselves.
Video: mov5078436b The creature behaved normally before viewing was disrupted by static. Among the sudden legion of voices, it echoed my father’s name, simultaneously expanding in size which causes the surroundings to convulse. Alarms resounded, piercing the silence as the creature tugged at its chains, cracking the floor ceiling in its attempt to break free. An ear splitting roar escaped its mouth as hordes of armoured soldiers rushed the cage, massive tasers in hand. They zapped the creature at maximum voltage as it continued to roar, lights flickering excessively. The camera feed is interrupted again by bouts of static.
A second group arrived, armed heavily with guns, increasing the crowd to a total of 30. The gunfire was so severe that it affected the video’s audio. One of the chains bound to the roof of the cage had already broken loose by the time the third group of soldiers arrived. This group carried a machine emitting bursts of fire, which had no effect on the creature aside from antagonizing it. It releases a powerful blast from its hand, causing the room to tremble which shattered the bulletproof glass into millions of pieces and sent the men flying across the room. Both of the creature’s hands were now free, and it began to morph.
Finally, a fourth group arrived in heavily armoured suits, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They wielded lasers and what appeared to be a concentrated lightning gun. I was grateful they hadn’t made use of nuclear weapons which would have wiped everyone out. After every attempt, the creature remained standing. Now it was his turn.
The creature freed itself from the remaining shackles and unleashed a blast with both its hands. All that was left of the solders was a gruesome mess of blood where they stood. The air filled with a haunting scream that echoed throughout the halls. The creature released a menacing growl in the form of words that sent chills down my spine, “Dennis McCarthy”, my father’s name.
Right before the camera blacked out, I could have sworn he was in the brink of morphing into a human form, but the recording was cut short by the thunderous detonation of explosions that sent the building into destruction, burying the truth within its rubble.
The scientists, including my dad, were taken by the ESA (extra-terrestrial security agency) and hidden in a heavily guarded underground haven. They were issued new identities and relocated, which isn’t a new concept for the government.
As far as the drones’ visual feed could capture, the entire operation was terminated, leaving behind the collapsed and buried ruins of a facility that was once fully functional. It was under strict surveillance for any signs of life, but as the years rolled by, complacency set in, compromising their once strict security measures.
My father, uncle and the rest of the scientists assumed new lives and identities. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, they were dead.
In 2010, an unexpected interruption occurred. Reports indicated that the drones simultaneously malfunctioned, and the video feed erupted into static. A team arrived at the site to find it disrupted, all the drones lay in scattered heaps across the landscape.
Before anyone could investigate or react, all communication with the agents safeguarding the scientists was abruptly terminated. One be one, the connections were severed, leaving them permanently unreachable. When they reached my father’s safe house, they were greeted with his spine-chilling absence. He had vanished without so much as a trace that he had ever been there to begin with—no signs of struggle or any shred of evidence left behind. He was lost in an infinite void of mystery. The only indication that something was amiss was the eerie blue glow invading the monitors moments before blackout. The only accurate word for it would be ‘suction’, leading the team to believe that they had been absorbed. It remained a speculation, though plausible enough to send waves of panic up their spines.
As we speak governments around the world have been swept up into the desperate search to locate the alien as well as training an elite group of drone pilots and soldiers in an attempt to confront and defeat the elusive entity. Furthermore, every effort at locating surviving relatives of the missing scientists, including my father, had fallen short. They too had vanished into an infinite cloud of mystery, not one left unscathed to provide answers.
Considering the site’s altered state, the complete destruction of the drones and the fact that the creature they had held captive was constantly evolving, they were profoundly aware of the unravelling truth.
I am the sole living descendent of the scientists that worked for ESA. The creature has made it his mission to eliminate any and all traces of their existence. This is the sole reason I was upended from my life and relocated to a heavily guarded facility, and this is the reason I feel compelled to share their stories.
I couldn’t comprehend why the creature would hunt me since I didn’t share the sins of my father, but I felt paranoid and vigilant regardless. I couldn’t help but feel compelled to look into the disappearances myself, perhaps due to some lingering hopes that the information was wrong. My pursuit for answers turned up nothing, not even social media accounts. It was as if any trace of their existence was utterly obliterated, there was no digital footprint left.
The reason I am now convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that my life is in danger is because I have started catching glimpses of subtle movements in my peripheral, a shadowy figure lurking around the premises, disruptions in the signal of my appliances, even the phone I am using right now.
Call me foolish for even relying on the very technology that might lead to my demise, but I felt compelled to warn anyone else who might be a descendent of the team that worked for ESA: project corrosion.
If you’re aware then heed my words and flee. If you are unaware, observe the news for any sudden or unexplained disappearances, and I regret to inform you but, if you come across the creature then it’s too late.
Stay safe my friends

I never met my birth parents. They both died on a job when I was a baby, and I went into foster care. I didn’t have any interest in knowing anything about them; my adoptive parents are the ones who raised me.
However, everything changed a week ago when a group of men came knocking at my door. They wore what looked like military uniforms, but instead of the usual green, they wore a distinct red color instead. They loaded me, along with my foster parents into an unmarked matching red van. We were rushed to a farmhouse on the opposite side of Washington where the facility was heavily guarded with intimidating men and unfamiliar machines that appeared like they required several men to operate.
Being an IT major, I had no knowledge nor interest in these things. I’m not a runner, fighter or a strategist, so I couldn’t fathom what they wanted from me.
They relentlessly interrogated me for three days, bombarding me with questions and then, when they concluded that I was blissfully unaware, intimidated me with frightening information. Dumbfounded, I soaked in every ounce of knowledge they offered me. The new knowledge I gained made me see my parents in a new terrifying light. I couldn’t help but feel more resentment, adding on to the existing resentment I harboured. My parents not only betrayed themselves, but me as well and part of me feared that I would never be safe again. I couldn’t help but feel manipulated. They were long gone, but their past still controlled my fate.
I was eventually uprooted to a secondary protective facility, one in which I was not permitted to know the location of. For my own safety, they assured me. Once settled, they supplied me with new electronics and destroyed my old ones. They warned me that I was to stay under the radar, completely untraceable. Again, for my own protection. I was confident that given my knowledge of IT, software engineering and cyber security, I would remain unseen and untraceable to anyone who might be hunting me.
Now that I am sure I am safe, I can finally write this message and warn anyone connected to the initial bloodlines involved. It is crucial for my message to reach you.
The story begins with my biological grandfather. He worked for a branch of the government closely related to NASA. Following the moon landing there was a great deal of classified developments that the population was oblivious to. The department my grandfather worked for protecting the world against extra-terrestrial threats or extra-terrestrial terrorism as they described it.
Paranoia gripped them after the moon landing and they took drastic measures to prepare. Five years later, they deciphered the first communications and signals from frequencies previously unknown to them. These signals were so powerful that they destroyed entire systems, disrupted the power grid and took down entire radio stations. This special branch of government discovered they could tap into these signals which revealed that our galaxy has been under constant surveillance. This was ironically discovered by extra-terrestrials working within this branch, tasked to monitor and prevent extra-terrestrial terrorism on a much larger scale.
At this point in their story, the soldiers were reluctant to divulge more. Insisting that they already revealed too much. But I demanded full transparency, refusing to cooperate with their equivocation. It was essential that I know my involvement in these matters. So, they continued, placing a huge box in front of me, overflowing with papers. They swiftly unveiled its contents to me, Stacks of documents and old tapes they tossed onto the table, one after the another.
The documents contained, amongst others, details of weapons the organisation, known as ESA were crafting and testing along with formulas to create immensely powerful weapons. They used advanced calculations to try and manufacture better equipment that could be sent up to space. They were doing this undisclosed, to monitor and learn as much as they could.
The ESA spent millions designing and building a spacecraft to contain their equipment, if the situation ever called for it. It is still a work in progress. All of this is actively happening, the documents and footage stamped up until a week ago.
I opened a document with a list of classified individuals who had this information. Presidents, EU members, a handful of the rich and powerful, who used this information to design and construct underground bunkers, granting that, if anything were to ever happen, they’d be prepared. These aren’t a new concept though, the extremely rich and powerful have been known to publicly sponsor new technological advancements. Well some may think this gave them the upper hand, it eventually proved their foolishness.
The following is what I saw in the most crucial videos:
Video 1: dated 1975 The video opens in an empty cell, appearing to be a reinforced holding chamber. At first, the room is dark, then the spotlights switch on, illuminating the centre of the room. Now in the light, I could clearly make out what looked like a reinforced metal wall with chains protruding from it. The focus shifts to the back of the room where a large door opens and something is dragged in a sheet, concealing its identity, and tied down with thick chains. The video ends.
Video 2: June 1975 I saw about 20 armed men entered the room and start to unwrap the sheet from what they hauled in. After several minutes of unwrapping, the identity of the thing they brought in is revealed.
There seemed to be a glitch in the recording, at different points in the video the screen was covered in static. The sound was muted, and the figure was hard to make out. It appeared that the creature was attempting to change shape, vibrating as if to phase into a different shape. Despite its best attempts, it remained unsuccessful and reverted back to its original form. .
Video 3: the very next day wnd June 1975
The video opens with the creature fully in focus. Within the 18 hours of footage, the creature is constantly seen attempting to change form. It fails every time, but that doesn’t prevent it from trying again. It looks like a blur, occasionally a second head or what appears to be a human hand. It’s apparent the creature has shapeshifting abilities.
The next 200 videos are identical. To the naked eye, it seemed like a loop. But it wasn’t. The creature was, however, relentless in its attempt to free itself or escape.
Video 204: October 1975
This time the alien appeared to be asleep, head limp and no movement. This video had sound, but it was accompanied by a high pitch buzz that made my ears hurt. At the six-hour mark, the faint cry of a baby can be heard before gradually escalating into full-blown screaming.
At first I suspected that one of the scientists had brought their child along, but the agents assured me the crying was coming from the creature. As the video progresses, the cries grow louder and more demanding, eventually accompanied by a deep voice. Close to the end of the video, 22 hours in, multiple voices begin to scream simultaneously, causing everything to shake.
The documents show that, after this incident, the cage was reinforced. The next few videos are static, proving that the creature has the uncanny ability to manipulate video and disrupt frequencies.
Video 340 February 1982
The creature, with its brown discoloration, possessed crocodile like scales and an eagle like head, but it was entirely reptilian in nature. It stood at a whopping 12 feet tall and was covered in an unknown slime like substance.
The chains were substantially thicker than they were years earlier, and the cage has been fortified. It looked like a different room altogether.
The agents explained that the creature got loose and attacked 12 soldiers, absorbing them into itself instead of merely killing or eating them.
The creature was taken to Nevada, close to the desert, where a strong armoured underground structure had been constructed, far from civilization. The facility has been equipped with high level security precautions which allowed sections of the building to be sealed off and rigged to explode, guaranteeing that, if necessary, the building would collapse in on itself, trapping the creature within its cage, underneath the rubble.
The creature mirrored the image I conjured up in my head when I pictured the devil; brown, scaly, a demonic voice. The eyes were its most terrifying feature, shaped like that of a reptilian, but blood red. I counted 4 horns on its head, and it bore a pair of nasty fangs. Its feet bore the resemblance of a dinosaur, but it lacked a tale. Once the creature was no longer phasing in and out, it settled on a more consistent appearance, one that was easier to recognize.
Video 341 February 1982
This video marked the first appearance of my grandfather. He entered, along with four other men in lab coats, carrying a large syringe, approximately the size of my arm. He stuck it into the beast’s heart, causing it to instantly fall into a deep sleep. He proceeded to connect various machines onto the slumbering creature, attaching electrodes to its head and chest which were linked to a sizeable computer or something that resembled a computer. The video cuts off after this, leaving us to guess what occurred next.
Video 343 February 1982 The lights in the room were far brighter than before, and it once again lacked the presence of sound. The reason for this remained unknown.
Within the room stood a table filled with an assortment of equipment that appeared to be severely damaged. The lights flickered at intervals, and the creature began to phase in and out once more. This made it difficult to distinguish its appearance amid the static moments and blurred movements. The scientists observed the creature a safe distance away.
The scientists were relying on a certain frequency they discovered to keep the creature at bay. It seemed to produce positive results for the next few videos.
The videos that followed held a similar pattern. The creature remained silent, wired to machines while people came in and out taking notes or the occasional blood or slime sample. The creature remained composed, not once attempting to shift or escape again.
According to the agents’ records, everything proceeded as planned. My grandfather welcomed his first son, my father in 1975, he subsequently resumed his project until his resignation in 2008 when he was 55. A year later, he had a fatal heart attack, my grandmother following soot. My father was 34.
My father and his younger brother began working for ESA in 2004, when they were 28 and 24. New technological advancements introduced better cameras and electronic equipment for testing purposes. Since the technology became so advanced, their visits to the cage became as infrequent as once a week, or even less often. With new needles, enhanced equipment and upgraded data collection, the project transferred to electronic records ushering changes in the filing system.
While we waited for my transportation, they shared more classified documents. According to the notes, the once wild and violent creature was now unrecognisably tame and responsive, even answering questions. It remained unclear whether they had intentionally provoked it or stumbled upon a means to subdue it.
The circumstances surrounding my birth were strange. My dad impregnated a college classmate, and they made the mutual decision to put me up for adoption since neither of them had the desire to raise a child. My mother was studying biology and my father, a young genius physicist that found it hard to understand basic human interaction as it was. According to my foster parents, I was born in 2000, but the data I was presented proved I was born two years prior. This revelation had a more profound effect on me than anything else I’d seen.
Regardless, I was immediately given up for adoption and my existence was all but forgotten about. My adoptive parents moved to Iowa, and that’s where I lived up until 2018 when I left for Harvard. I always wondered what my birth parents were like. My adoptive parents told me I was a genius and speculated that I inherited my brain from somewhere. It’s an uncanny feeling; the knowledge that every aspect of my life was monitored.
The videos documenting the creature continued for the next 6 years. It became routine, apart from the indistinct chatter from the observing scientists and other government employees. There were no other sounds, incidents or noteworthy occurrences.
The tests revealed that the creature’s biology was predominantly alien, with no genetic material in common with humans. The scientists highlighted the alarming fact that the creature’s DNA was ever changing, resulting in frequent sample collection and analysis.
They concluded that, the creature was still a baby at the time of capture, which made it easier to contain. They did, however, underestimate its shocking growth rate which resulted in the deaths of the 12 soldiers’ years prior. At the time, it was still in its adolescent phase. Further research uncovered that the creature had the unique ability to absorb the genetic material of the men it came into contact with. The more humans it absorbed, the more diverse its gene pool became. A portion of the genes obtained gradually became more similar to those observed in humans. It’s as if the creature dove into an immense pool of genes and, as it absorbed more humans, its genetic makeup gradually began to adopt more human like qualities. Although difficult to comprehend at first, the basic explanation is that with every absorption of genetic information, the creature’s genetic composition seemed to evolve, storing human qualities within its own gene and gradually becoming more human-like That is my understanding of it.
Which brings me to the final video they have. Prepare yourselves.
Video: mov5078436b The creature behaved normally before viewing was disrupted by static. Among the sudden legion of voices, it echoed my father’s name, simultaneously expanding in size which causes the surroundings to convulse. Alarms resounded, piercing the silence as the creature tugged at its chains, cracking the floor ceiling in its attempt to break free. An ear splitting roar escaped its mouth as hordes of armoured soldiers rushed the cage, massive tasers in hand. They zapped the creature at maximum voltage as it continued to roar, lights flickering excessively. The camera feed is interrupted again by bouts of static.
A second group arrived, armed heavily with guns, increasing the crowd to a total of 30. The gunfire was so severe that it affected the video’s audio. One of the chains bound to the roof of the cage had already broken loose by the time the third group of soldiers arrived. This group carried a machine emitting bursts of fire, which had no effect on the creature aside from antagonizing it. It releases a powerful blast from its hand, causing the room to tremble which shattered the bulletproof glass into millions of pieces and sent the men flying across the room. Both of the creature’s hands were now free, and it began to morph.
Finally, a third group arrived in heavily armoured suits, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They wielded lasers and what appeared to be a concentrated lightning gun. I was grateful they hadn’t made use of nuclear weapons which would have wiped everyone out. After every attempt, the creature remained standing. Now it was his turn.
The creature freed itself from the remaining shackles and unleashed a blast with both its hands. All that was left of the solders was a gruesome mess of blood where they stood. The air filled with a haunting scream that echoed throughout the halls. The creature released a menacing growl in the form of words that sent chills down my spine, “Dennis McCarthy”, my father’s name.
Right before the camera blacked out, I could have sworn he was in the brink of morphing into a human form, but the recording was cut short by the thunderous detonation of explosions that sent the building into destruction, burying the truth within its rubble.
The scientists, including my dad, were taken by the ESA (extra-terrestrial security agency) and hidden in a heavily guarded underground haven. They were issued new identities and relocated, which isn’t a new concept for the government.
As far as the drones’ visual feed could capture, the entire operation was terminated, leaving behind the collapsed and buried ruins of a facility that was once fully functional. It was under strict surveillance for any signs of life, but as the years rolled by, complacency set in, compromising their once strict security measures.
My father, uncle and the rest of the scientists assumed new lives and identities. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, they were dead.
In 2010, an unexpected interruption occurred. Reports indicated that the drones simultaneously malfunctioned, and the video feed erupted into static. A team arrived at the site to find it disrupted, all the drones lay in scattered heaps across the landscape.
Before anyone could investigate or react, all communication with the agents safeguarding the scientists was abruptly terminated. One be one, the connections were severed, leaving them permanently unreachable. When they reached my father’s safe house, they were greeted with his spine-chilling absence. He had vanished without so much as a trace that he had ever been there to begin with—no signs of struggle or any shred of evidence left behind. He was lost in an infinite void of mystery. The only indication that something was amiss was the eerie blue glow invading the monitors moments before blackout. The only accurate word for it would be ‘suction’, leading the team to believe that they had been absorbed. It remained a speculation, though plausible enough to send waves of panic up their spines.
As we speak governments around the world have been swept up into the desperate search to locate the alien as well as training an elite group of drone pilots and soldiers in an attempt to confront and defeat the elusive entity. Furthermore, every effort at locating surviving relatives of the missing scientists, including my father, had fallen short. They too had vanished into an infinite cloud of mystery, not one left unscathed to provide answers.
Considering the site’s altered state, the complete destruction of the drones and the fact that the creature they had held captive was constantly evolving, they were profoundly aware of the unravelling truth.
I am the sole living descendent of the scientists that worked for ESA. The creature has made it his mission to eliminate any and all traces of their existence. This is the sole reason I was upended from my life and relocated to a heavily guarded facility, and this is the reason I feel compelled to share their stories.
I couldn’t comprehend why the creature would hunt me since I didn’t share the sins of my father, but I felt paranoid and vigilant regardless. I couldn’t help but feel compelled to look into the disappearances myself, perhaps due to some lingering hopes that the information was wrong. My pursuit for answers turned up nothing, not even social media accounts. It was as if any trace of their existence was utterly obliterated, there was no digital footprint left.
The reason I am now convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that my life is in danger is because I have started catching glimpses of subtle movements in my peripheral, a shadowy figure lurking around the premises, disruptions in the signal of my appliances, even the phone I am using right now.
Call me foolish for even relying on the very technology that might lead to my demise, but I felt compelled to warn anyone else who might be a descendent of the team that worked for ESA: project corrosion.
If you’re aware then heed my words and flee. If you are unaware, observe the news for any sudden or unexplained disappearances, and I regret to inform you but, if you come across the creature then it’s too late.
Stay safe my friends

I'm looking for an episode of a (probably 90s) show where a scientist invents and builds a spherical self-assembling robot. the scientist does not have control over this robot and it starts uncontrollably picking things apart and attaching it to itself, including in a later stage the scientist itself and a truck. The leading characters infiltrate the at this point massive robot and disable it from the inside. I always thought it was from bike mice from Mars, but after some research, I'm not so sure anymore.

Getting out onto the mountain when I was a boy wasn’t always as simple a procedure as might be imagined. If there’d been a lot of rain recently, it could be damn near impossible sometimes, with the normal bad condition of the road now turned into a muddy slip & slide.
But even in dry weather, it could be a trial sometimes.
The problem was the first steep stretch where the road rose sharply in that direction just past Gram and Gramp’s place. Steep doesn’t really do it justice. And it was usually so rutted and rough from water runoff, and had such abundance of loose stones, that getting up it at all could be a task not for the faint of heart. And it was Long way up to that first hairpin turn where it would level out for a short stretch.
Many of the battered pickups that were common conveyance of the time didn’t have four-wheel drive. Rear-wheel, rather. Which was somewhat inefficient for the purpose at hand, as the weight was concentrated in the front.
So hillbilly ingenuity once again came into play.
The creek crossed the road (or the road crossed the creek), just past our place, if you were going in that direction.
And there was a good, flat 200’ in between it and the base of that accursed ascending to the heavens stretch of road carved directly out of the hillside.
The method was simplicity itself. Park in the creek, and start loading up the bed of the truck with heavy stones and rocks. You could add a few hundred pounds fairly quickly that way, over the drive wheels. Get yourself some increased traction.
We boys were always happy to help, looking forward to the coming show as we were. The danger of accident, injury, or death was ever-present, and we were ever-hopeful.
Once the driver judged he had sufficient, he would line ‘er up at the edge of the creek, nose pointed at the foot of the hill. Hold the brake and rev the engine. Then release the brake and take off from a dead start like a deacon caught in bed with the preacher’s wife. The object to gain as much forward momentum as possible before hitting the beginning of the maniacal reverse toboggan run up the side of the mountain.
And then the game was on in earnest. Engine red-lined and screaming, tires spinning, smoking, and kicking out loose stones. The back end skewing violently in both directions as the intrepid driver fought the wheel. Bounding and bouncing over gullies formed by water runoff, and protruding rocks too large and deeply imbedded to be removed.
And you’d watch, and wait, and place your bets.
Sometimes a particularly skillful driver would actually make it all the way up in one go.
But for many others, it would involve shifting to neutral and rolling back down in reverse, once it became evident that the spinning tires would ascend no further, all forward momentum having been lost.
Then back to the edge of the creek to line it up for another go. Maybe throw in some more ballast first.
Some determined souls would succeed after a few or several tries.
Some would eventually say to hell with it, leave their truck and keys in Gramp’s keeping, and continue on to go see who or what they needed to see on foot.
Someone Would go over the side from time to time, but it was accepted as the cost of doing business - had to happen sometime. But the truck would usually roll or nose-down and fetch up against a tree at some point. So injuries were sustainable. No one ever actually Died (much to my brothers’ and my disappointment - we were some mean little shits sometimes).
After the return trip back down, the rocks would be unloaded in their usual spot, to await the next customer. They saw a lot of use.
Momma made the ascent with me, in four-wheel drive. Once. And thereafter would take a walking trail up to the flat, and wait there for me to stop and pick her up.
As she put it: one of us had to survive for the baby’s sake, and we were all out of our fucking minds.
Leading up to Meeting Time each year, when we were boys, Uncle Bob would truck in and unload his big Cat, and he, Gramp, and us would spend a week or so getting the road in sufficient shape that most folks, with some effort, could make it all the way up to the family cemetery for the annual reunion. The road would thereafter be more passable for a time, but would quickly deteriorate again to its normal condition. Beginning with the first heavy rain.
That old road is impassable now, but a new paved one goes to the cemetery now from the other side of the mountain. Homes, street signs, and bridges over streams in an area where, when we were boys, there had been nothing at all but wild woodlands and dark, shaded hollers. A lot of time has passed since those days, and things have changed.

We had a really, really weird experience today at a local park, where we visit often. We're still not sure what happened, and aren't accusing anyone of anything nefarious, but it just goes to show that people need to be aware of their surroundings.
We were walking our dogs in a large park when a woman approached us on the jogging track from the tennis courts, super excited and wanting to see the dogs. Neither of the dogs wanted her attention, which was weird in and of itself, but she also gave both my husband and I really weird vibes.
She kept getting in my personal space, touching me, basically hugging me and hanging on me, to an extent that was uncomfortable. We talked about how weird and uncomfortable she made us as we continued our walk.
When we went to leave, we discovered that my backpack/ purse was opened halfway. It was on my back the entire trip, and the only time it was opened was to put the car keys in it when we first got to the park, like we always do, no matter where we go. This process has worked for us on thousands of miles worth of trips.
Lo and behold, my car keys were missing. Both of us specifically knew they were there; we're both high strung and knew my husband had put them in it while I wore it, like we always do. We've never, ever lost our keys before. Luckily, our key fob had broken off THIS morning, so it was separate, so we could still unlock the truck.
We looked and looked, but the keys were gone, and no one had seen them. We called a local locksmith, and ended up waiting for a while.
It got dark, with only three other cars in the lot. A small red car with someone sitting in it on their phone was parked next to us for over 2hrs; a small civic was parked across from us, and another old 4runner was next to them.
The civic seemingly couldn't start their car, they kept 'trying' to start it; all their lights were working, and the starter was engaging, but it wouldn't start. It stopped turning over every time it got close.
The locksmith got there, and immediately the red car left, a woman got out of the pasenger seat of the civic, into the 4runner and drove off.. And the civic immediately started up, after not being able to start for over an hour, and also drove off.
We don't know what happened, but every single car in the parking lot left at the same time our mechanic started working on our 4runner, IMMEDIATELY.
We are vigilant, and rarely let people in our space. We travel often. We don't know what happened for sure, but the scenario was very, very confusing and left us feeling unsafe.
$400 later for the locksmith, but we still have our runner, and the smith actually was interested in buying one of the cats I breed. We always say, we have the best worst luck there is, the best and the worst. Something bad might happen, but it'll turn out in the best way we can, because we live a blessed life.
Maybe we're being paranoid, but we won't be allowing anyone to approach our dogs in the future, or invade our space. We'd been talking about starting to carry on a regular basis, and this has been the push we need to make that happen. If you've got a preferred EDC, let me know!
Just be aware of y'all's surroundings, and be safe!

So, I think we can all agree, Dating Apps don't hardly work for anything other than draining your wallets.. So here I am to toss my name into the Reddit Pool and see what happens.. Let's MF Gooo!
So I been reading a few of these posts, trying to get an idea of how this all works, I'm not a socially adept person.. but a lot of them kinda reminded me of reading resumes for a job and that shit is boring to look at.. I'd rather get a personal connection from reading something like this. So far, I've survived almost 34 years on this planet, although at some points i'm not quite sure how, haha.. I've led quite an adventurous life as a young adult, and now I've settled back and down quite a bit, not so much of a drinker anymore, and nowadays i'm mainly enjoying my 420 habits, and hanging out with very few close friends.
I've got a very bad case of wanderlust, made worse by an ever more failing vehicle that is barely getting me to work and back. I desperately need a vacation out somewhere, but i can't afford to leave in that truck lol.. perpetually stuck.
Well, I've rambled a little bit here, given y'all a sample of my personality.. if anything up above interests you, Just send a DM with the subject "cornbread" somewhere, to show you actually read it lol..

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light

I have a unique situation. A few years ago at the age of 30 I met my biological father. I moved across country from Michigan to Arizona to help him with his business and lived on the same property as him. Everything was going really good for about a year and a half until I started noticing someone was coming in my house and I started to put things together. I didn’t know anything about crafting or black magic or cults or anything like that before this but I came into my house one day and noticed the grate at the bottom of my fridge wasn’t on properly so when I went to put it on the right way and it fell off completely I noticed there was a thick layer of dust but there was very fresh drawings and markings written in the dust. I asked a friend if it was Mexican gang shit not knowing what was going on lol he immediately told me it was black magic and said someone was messing with my food. Its a really story to have to text but I’ll list some other things that happened and I’d like to know if anyone has any insight . I’ve done a lot of research since then and still can’t figure out what the intentions were. So for starters it was a little town about 30 minutes from the Mexican border south of Tucson . My “dad” had several people my age working for him and I believe now they were all in on whatever they were doing to me. At first I thought he wasn’t a part of it and his workers just wanted me gone but I’ll explain why I know he was definitely in on it. Some of the things I noticed are
-They used a wood burner tool or engraved symbols and faces and letters into basically everything wood in my house and around the property like on wood posts and stuff. The letters would be large and stand out by theirselves it would be L,B, and I think R. - would make a almost evil smiley face and I would take my pants off at night and lay them in my bed and noticed the face on my ass in gel pen. They were putting it on my chairs. - switched a black and white candle with one of their own. -the wiring under my fridge was in Arabic or reverse Arabic so I think -under my front porch I found a canoe made out of a large dead frog body. It looked like it was to resemble a boat at least -also under porch found a cutout or some type of homemade rabbit made out of plastic or paper and it had half of one of those plastic Easter eggs in its mouth like a rabbit eating it’s own child or egg or whatever . -dead cat in my car - dead cat in my house - I always slept on my couch but on my bed I noticed a very thin layer of candle wax had been poured on every crease in the mattress . If you look at a mattress you’ll know that had to take a lot of time and effort. -my dad insisted we didn’t need tack strips when we laid the carpet in the trailer and in the room I later found a blue steel razor blade and next to it the word MAD in pen or marker. -the only friend that kept assuring me I wasn’t crazy had a nice 2020 truck and text me one day and said there was blood all over his back seat . I doubt he did that to his nice truck . It looked like a murder scene and when I saw it I noticed the same markings and faces on the car seat and doors . Looked like it was with a pencil eraser . - there was a panel loose in my jeep by my left foot where a hood release is . I pulled it back a little and saw something . When I loosened the panel even more it was a Lego figure and his head rolled off . I know I didn’t put that there lol. - different color dirt than usual and pebbles under carpet in front of door and rubbed all over my jeep tire. Probably cemetery dirt I think .
There’s more but you get the picture. So also in my Jeep I had a tool box and in every drawer there was 6 small twigs in the shape of a U or 6 pieces of plants or flowers. On the outside the drew a few things but one was a stick figure being attacked by wolves . When I came back to Michigan I was attacked by two dogs and had to get 69 stitches . The wound and scar is in the shape of a weird smiley face.
I refused to drive the Jeep and had a rental car and some how fell asleep and was in a head on collision with a family of 5 . Everyone was okay some how. I was going 60 and didn’t have a seatbelt on . Woke up in the passenger seat and the door just opened up for me to get out. Not knowing anyone else I called father of the year to come get me. When we got in his truck he said oh if you were in your Jeep you would have died for sure.
We get back to the house and he wanted me to stay there instead of sleeping at my place next door. He had a 80 inch tv that was turned off so it was basically like a mirror. I’m watching him and his gf lay a mattress on the floor and putting sheets and blankets on it then I see his gf pull something out of a clothes hamper . I can’t even make this shit up . I saw a 2 foot doll wearing one of my shirts. And had strews all over the head . Attached to the screws was some type of string to resemble hair with ties or bows half way down the length . I know they were screws because he twisted a couple of them . Then he put it in a type of dresser thing with a glass door and rolled a rolling closet with clothes in front of it . I could have shit my pants . That was the last time I was there. I immediately told him I had to get my son something from Walmart and needed to go now so I can send it first thing in the morning. He took me to Walmart and I ordered a Uber . He was right next to me and wouldn’t leave my side so I made up the only thing I thought of and said I think his phone was making me sick , something about electronics and said give me 5 feet and walked outside. I get in the Uber and he almost didn’t see me but came up to the car hands cupped around his eyes looking in the windows and saw me. He told the driver I was mentally unstable, on drugs and if he left with me he’s calling the cops. I told the guy I just met this man that’s my dad,showed him my license and explained I ordered the ride I offered him more money and asked him to please go. He said he didn’t want any trouble and cancelled the ride. So now I’m outside of Walmart with the crazy person I call dad and he’s like wtf man you’re just gonna bail on me lol. So I just told him I saw the voodoo doll. He started going nuts denying it and making a huge scene. He never did admit it but he said whatever I think he was doing he was trying to help me. I called the kid Colton they had the blood in his truck and he came and got me.
After 4 years I still don’t know exactly what was going on. If anyone knows what might have been going on I’d like some opinions. Do you think they were trying to sacrifice me or initiate me or what?
One of his workers did drop hints or warnings when I would bing stuff up. He told me “your dad doesn’t work me alit around Christmas time” I was like uh ok and said yeah it’s orders from higher up . Then told me there was like 5 or 6 satanic cults right around there. I’ve came to find out he was telling the truth more than likely.
Thanks for reading. Love and light

Brace yourselves, this is gonna be a long one.
Table of Contents
1…… The Main Goal
2…… What I’m Seeking
3…… Personality
4…… Interests
5…… Physical Characteristics (with pics)
6…… Expectations of You
7…… Living Situation
8…… Deal Breakers
9…… Closing Remarks
(1)
The Main Goal:
Well if you’re browsing this subreddit then much like me, you were alone this weekend and I’m sure you’d like to change that as much as me. I won’t lie, I am going through a rough part of my life right now. It’s difficult for me to find the energy for anything at the moment and I’m just really seeking affection in general, anything that will give me a push. I don’t want to be that person who brings everyone down but I could really use someone to talk to right now. I’d really like to find someone who’s similar to me so much to the point that we do everything together and talk about everything while not having to pretend to be interested. I want someone with whom we can mutually spew our emotions onto and have those feelings reciprocated. Not an emotional punching bag, but an emotional teddy bear to hug and cuddle until everything feels better as many times as we need. There’s people who I’m sure have told you the same, they’ll be there no matter how many times you need the support, no matter how many times the insecurities and bad thoughts come back but they don’t mean it. I will be the exception, I’m not so ignorant to think some nice words and tales of relating to you will magically forever heal whatever ails you then get mad when you seek the same support again. Mental ailments are rarely temporary and I don’t care about someone because they’re perfect, caring about someone means being there no matter how many times they need you to be. It doesn’t feel like a chore, it doesn’t get old, and it never will.
(2)
(2.a)
What I'm Seeking:
I will upfront let you know if I’m clicking better with someone else or if you’re the one, I’m not here to tread the sea of fish or keep my options open, I’m here for one singular person.
(2.b)
Relationship:
A relationship is difficult for me right now, it’s been nearly half a year since I got out of my last relationship and the reasons for it ending are partially responsible for how I’ve been feeling and why it’s so hard for me to seek the comfort I so desperately crave. I will tell you about it but for the sake of not treating the entirety of the internet as my therapist, it’ll be in private. I really need the comfort of intimacy and the warmth of someone who cares. I'm not going to feel better if I just sulk and don’t move on. This is my attempt to get better, I’ll admit I’m not great right now and I don’t expect you to be either. If we can help each other heal, then I’d be more than happy :) A relationship isn’t just being there for when someone’s at their best. Even if a relationship is hard at the moment, I do want a life partner and I don’t want to be alone. Things aren’t going to get easier without you so I don’t want to hesitate. I view my other as an equal, I don’t like categorizing us into specific roles. We take care of each other and treat each other how we like to be treated, whatever that is, it's as simple as that. I don't care if you're "successful" or not, living simple lives with our days filled with love is the ultimate measure of success to me.
(3)
Personality:
(3.a)
On the Surface:
As you can tell I can be rather… stoic but that’s largely due to my current stressors, I truthfully am goofy and fun loving but I just can’t find it in me right now. I want to return to that but without someone to light up my world it’s been difficult to just have fun and enjoy stuff. I’m definitely more introverted, you won’t catch me at any parties or really outside at all. I definitely prefer being home though the occasional outing is not out of the question and one day I’d like to travel to other countries because I think that kind of perspective is important.
(3.b)
The Core of My Being:
I like being a spectator to it all and if we bear witness to humanity burning or its miraculous recovery, I want to watch it with you. I enjoy watching humanity advance, less so when it devolves but I want to watch it to the end nonetheless. I’m both a realist and someone who lives with my head in the clouds dreaming of scenarios or worlds that don’t exist. I’m saying that I enjoy a good narrative and can suspend my disbelief to enjoy something but you won’t catch me refusing vaccines or ignoring blatant facts for the sake of some pseudo science or witch doctor’s remedy. I’m an atheist but I do not rule out existence after death, not because I’m agnostic but because due to the nature of potentially infinite time at some point after how many googol years with a googol amount of 0s after that, something’s bound to replicate your consciousness perfectly at some point. It’s actually a really fascinating topic I like talking about. If infinite time and infinite possibilities exist, does non existence exist? Though that’s an awfully existentially dreadful thought process considering the ramifications of infinite existence and infinite possibilities during said infinite existence. I would say I’m confidently left leaning and I don’t think I could truly get along with anyone right leaning, at least America’s definition of right leaning. Left and right seems to have just become; do people deserve to suffer or do they deserve to live good lives? Being political is not something I expected to become but how can you not be when crimes against human rights are being passed on a daily basis and at the end of the day, everything’s political. Oftentimes I imagine the perfect moment as relaxing with my significant other playing games or cuddling in a cold room under blankets.
I value that special someone above all of the existential thoughts, the bad of the world, the good of the world, they practically become my world. So many worries wash away when I’m with them. I don’t know if that’s the defense mechanism my brain created to not feel bad 24/7 but if it is, I’m currently without it.
(3.c)
Insecurities:
I talk of philosophy and politics here but really I spend most of my time just playing games, watching stuff, and trying to not be sleep deprived. I’m also nowhere near as well spoken, heck sometimes I feel like my speech is broken. I won’t claim to be something I’m not, I sit at home while I complain about the world doing nothing about it wishing I had someone here with me. I’m not noble nor do I really want to be, I have morals I uphold but much like most other hypocrites I acknowledge that my comfortable life is built on the suffering of others without doing anything about it. Why? My sleep problems? Am I depressed? Is that why I have no energy to do anything? Do I just think nothing I could do could help? I can’t nail it down myself, maybe it’s a mix of everything, maybe I’m just a bad person. I have always told myself that if I had wealth I would help people but if I get that kind of wealth will I just become a wealth hoarder who tries to justify my riches as something I earned rather than something given to me through incredibly lucky circumstances? If I do help people is it because I’m a good person or out of guilt? Will I die alone? I feel like I drive everyone away with my clinginess, I get paranoid often and need reassurance often. It’s something I want to work on, something I’ve been trying to work on. Hearing that someone cares about me just never gets old. I value self awareness even if it’s painful.
(3.d)
Socializing:
I’m definitely a socially anxious/awkward mess, especially around strangers. I do feel a large amount of anxiety in public, people can’t tell by looking at my face since I kind of go stone faced in an attempt to block everything out but yeah you’ll notice that if we go out in public. Growing up my pediatrician said I was probably autistic, never got a formal diagnosis so that’s just great. But yeah that explains why I can’t make eye contact with people, I kinda just stare at the ground and avoid their gaze at all costs. A lot of these social struggles go away to a great degree once I know you for a bit but yeah I apologize for how terrible I am at socializing at first. Don’t let my social struggles fool you though, I love cuddling and being close with my person.
(3.e)
Sexuality:
I am a heterosexual male, though I’m not very masculine like at all. I may even be a bit feminine sometimes. Not that I believe any activity or manner of acting belongs to a gender but I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m definitely super affectionate and love it when my partner is too. I am open to dating demi people but I do have a libido so I don't think asexual would work out.
(4)
Interests:
(4.a)
Video Games:
As stated before, I do spend a lot of my time playing video games. It’s been hard lately with me having no energy but I really do want to play more games and have a good time playing them with you! I primarily play on PC though I do have a switch. I’m primarily into platform fighters, roguelikes, open world, survival, and sandbox games. As for single player story games, I enjoy watching them through twitch or youtube but for the most part I don’t play them myself. I’d watch you play them though!
Here’s a list of games we can play:
-Minecraft (Java)
-Risk of Rain 2
-Gunfire Reborn
-Roboquest
-7 Days to Die
-Phasmophobia
-Rust
-Unturned
-Bloons TD 6
-Platform fighters: Super Smash Bros. Melee, Slap City, Multiversus, Flash Party, Fraymakers
Whatever you want to play I’ll give it a shot! I will say that League bores me to death but I’ll play it for you :) I try to avoid MMOs, not because I don’t like them but because of how addicted I can get to them. I enjoy learning games in-depth so MMOs can be a fast track to addiction.
I recently got Kerbal Space Program 2 and ehhh not really worth it right now but hopefully later it will be? I’m super excited for Tears of the Kingdom! In the far off future I’m excited for Rivals of Aether 2 which is a platform fighter releasing in 2024, let me know of your most anticipated releases and I’ll see if I could play them with you!
Also I never got into FPS games but I could totally see myself playing like CoD with you or Escape From Tarkov. Any FPS really, I’m down.
I am a fan of Pokemon but with how things have been lately I don’t know how long that will last. Pixelmon is a common Pokemon mod I play for Minecraft if you want to play that! Also if I say I want to play something with you I mean it but there are often times when no matter how much I want to I'm just drained and can do little more than lay in bed so please don't think I'm making an excuse.
(4.b)
Science:
I really enjoy keeping up with the latest advances in pretty much everything, it could be biology, technology, astronomy, anything! I love seeing progression and I love talking about it! Really I could go on and on about what I’m obsessing about that day. I particularly love technology, ask me for my laptop specs I dare you. When I was little I always wanted to be a scientist of any kind but then insomnia and fear of college stuff hit me like a truck aaaand that’s the end of that dream.
(4.c)
Anime:
You got me, I like anime but I’d like to think my tastes are benign.
Here’s some of my favorites I can list from the top of my head:
- To Your Eternity
- Vinland Saga
- Spice and Wolf
- Re:Zero
- Mob Psycho
- Dr. Stone
- Attack on Titan
- Spy x Family
- My Hero Academia
- Ranking of Kings
- Demon Slayer
Okay I can go on and on but I will say I don’t like pointless fan service and the spamming of cliche anime moments. I mostly enjoy action and anything well animated if it doesn’t have a potato story. Heck Demon Slayer could be my top 3 out of season 2’s animation alone. I don’t watch slice of life often or romance but I would with you!
(4.d)
Misc:
I’m not going to go on and on about the tiniest little things when the main ones are covered but I’ll watch pretty much any show with you and anything really. I like random youtube videos that explain some kind of lore or mystery, sometimes mini documentaries too.
As for food I looove sushi and I’m a sucker for fast food. Okay and candy, definitely candy.
I used to play tennis but haven’t really had the opportunity nor friends to play it with and I’m way too socially anxious to seek it out. Also I will say that when we move to something like discord I type waaaay more casually. I’m not going to expect long paragraphs back and forth like we’re writing English papers for each other, I do enjoy long conversations but seriously don’t worry about having to put the utmost effort into every response, I just like making good first impressions I guess.
(5)
(5.a)
My Physical Characteristics:
I’m 5’8 (172cm), 128 pounds (58kg), with curly brown hair and blue eyes. I like keeping my hair long in the winter and cutting it in the summer. I’m pretty slim in general so if you’re looking for someone large, that’s not me. I don’t work out but my work is pretty physical so at least I’m not totally inactive. I don’t have the urge to work out or gain muscle but I do want to maintain my slim figure so if I start losing control of that I’ll work out. I like to keep my face shaved because I don’t think I look good with a beard/mustache so if you’re into those I apologize. I have an average amount of body hair? I’d prefer to be completely shaved but it’s easy to lose motivation with that battle, if you prefer shaved then I’d have no problem complying. Anyways here’s what I look like: https://imgur.com/a/MZZgf2t
(5.b)
My Physical Preferences:
Having physical preferences makes me feel shallow, if I could make myself not have them I would but unfortunately that’s now how that works. I don’t care if you’re shorter or taller than me and I don’t care if you weigh more or less than me. All I ask is that you’re slim-average weight. I would never ask for someone to be something I’m not. I don’t care about tattoos or piercings.
(6)
Expectations of You:
I am not looking for someone “exciting” or someone to “keep me on my toes” I’m not looking for someone to cater to my every whim or anything like that. I don’t care if you’re “boring” or if you aren’t “successful”. I know it’s a common thing for people to not want a “boring” relationship and to seek something argumentative or something with constant challenges but I just want to be with you. During the exciting times, the boring times, and everything in-between, all of it will be great with you! Maybe we do argue sometimes or maybe there will be challenges but that will never be something I purposefully seek out and I don’t want that to be something you seek out either. I will not play tricks on you and I will not play mind games, I expect the same from you. We all have personal measures of success we may or may not have lived up to but what I care about most is our commitment to each other. If we have each other we can get through tough times, near the ends of our lives I want us to look back and feel that this life together was worth more than anything. That’s not saying I want us to be haphazard, I don’t want us to make poor decisions for the sake of yolo and I want us to always be rational, especially with each other. I want you to be someone I can trust to make decisions and weigh the options with a level head, I’ll try my best to live up to the same for you. Most of all I want empathy, understanding, someone to feel the utmost comfort and trust in.
(7)
Living Situation:
Currently my life is pretty relaxed, I work 3 times a week as a night shift stocker. I currently live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my roommate but we’re looking to move into someplace larger by the end of the year if everything works out. The internet is weirdly great for Ohio too like I have fiber and later this year we’re supposed to be getting dedicated fiber so that’s neat. I’m not attached to Ohio so the ultimate goal living location wise is probably moving to a country that won’t send you into a lifetime of dealing with the repercussions from one medical emergency.
(8)
Deal Breakers:
Might as well make this simple and make it a list.
- Anti-vaxxers
- Unironically believing astrology
- Right wingers
- Hard drugs (occasional 420 and alcohol is fine, may even join you)
- Wanting children, there was a time when I was younger when I wanted children but with the state of the word that’s a definite no and I feel like I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress. I’d love a stress free life with as much time with you as possible.
- Homophobic
- Transphobic
- Racist
- Super Religious
- Don’t be a bigot and don’t deny facts.
(9)
Closing Remarks:
Well you made it, I was thinking that finding someone I’d be willing to put a lifetime of effort into at least required this much effort. If I think of anything more I’ll update the post. Also about timezones, it really doesn’t matter where in the world you are. I don’t have a sleep schedule and I have most of the week off from work so it really doesn’t matter.
I request that in your response you do put effort into it, it doesn’t have to be anywhere near as long as this but at least enough so I know that you read this and enough about you so I know why you saw potential compatibility. I will seriously read all of it and respond the best I can. I do also request a pic included in your response (sfw please) or one soon after we start talking to prove identity, I’ll send identity proving pics too. As long as this post is up, you can send a reply!

Brace yourselves, this is gonna be a long one.
Table of Contents
1…… The Main Goal
2…… What I’m Seeking
3…… Personality
4…… Interests
5…… Physical Characteristics (with pics)
6…… Expectations of You
7…… Living Situation
8…… Deal Breakers
9…… Closing Remarks
(1)
The Main Goal:
Well if you’re browsing this subreddit then much like me, you were alone this weekend and I’m sure you’d like to change that as much as me. I won’t lie, I am going through a rough part of my life right now. It’s difficult for me to find the energy for anything at the moment and I’m just really seeking affection in general, anything that will give me a push. I don’t want to be that person who brings everyone down but I could really use someone to talk to right now. I’d really like to find someone who’s similar to me so much to the point that we do everything together and talk about everything while not having to pretend to be interested. I want someone with whom we can mutually spew our emotions onto and have those feelings reciprocated. Not an emotional punching bag, but an emotional teddy bear to hug and cuddle until everything feels better as many times as we need. There’s people who I’m sure have told you the same, they’ll be there no matter how many times you need the support, no matter how many times the insecurities and bad thoughts come back but they don’t mean it. I will be the exception, I’m not so ignorant to think some nice words and tales of relating to you will magically forever heal whatever ails you then get mad when you seek the same support again. Mental ailments are rarely temporary and I don’t care about someone because they’re perfect, caring about someone means being there no matter how many times they need you to be. It doesn’t feel like a chore, it doesn’t get old, and it never will.
(2)
(2.a)
What I'm Seeking:
I will upfront let you know if I’m clicking better with someone else or if you’re the one, I’m not here to tread the sea of fish or keep my options open, I’m here for one singular person.
(2.b)
Relationship:
A relationship is difficult for me right now, it’s been nearly half a year since I got out of my last relationship and the reasons for it ending are partially responsible for how I’ve been feeling and why it’s so hard for me to seek the comfort I so desperately crave. I will tell you about it but for the sake of not treating the entirety of the internet as my therapist, it’ll be in private. I really need the comfort of intimacy and the warmth of someone who cares. I'm not going to feel better if I just sulk and don’t move on. This is my attempt to get better, I’ll admit I’m not great right now and I don’t expect you to be either. If we can help each other heal, then I’d be more than happy :) A relationship isn’t just being there for when someone’s at their best. Even if a relationship is hard at the moment, I do want a life partner and I don’t want to be alone. Things aren’t going to get easier without you so I don’t want to hesitate. I view my other as an equal, I don’t like categorizing us into specific roles. We take care of each other and treat each other how we like to be treated, whatever that is, it's as simple as that. I don't care if you're "successful" or not, living simple lives with our days filled with love is the ultimate measure of success to me.
(3)
Personality:
(3.a)
On the Surface:
As you can tell I can be rather… stoic but that’s largely due to my current stressors, I truthfully am goofy and fun loving but I just can’t find it in me right now. I want to return to that but without someone to light up my world it’s been difficult to just have fun and enjoy stuff. I’m definitely more introverted, you won’t catch me at any parties or really outside at all. I definitely prefer being home though the occasional outing is not out of the question and one day I’d like to travel to other countries because I think that kind of perspective is important.
(3.b)
The Core of My Being:
I like being a spectator to it all and if we bear witness to humanity burning or its miraculous recovery, I want to watch it with you. I enjoy watching humanity advance, less so when it devolves but I want to watch it to the end nonetheless. I’m both a realist and someone who lives with my head in the clouds dreaming of scenarios or worlds that don’t exist. I’m saying that I enjoy a good narrative and can suspend my disbelief to enjoy something but you won’t catch me refusing vaccines or ignoring blatant facts for the sake of some pseudo science or witch doctor’s remedy. I’m an atheist but I do not rule out existence after death, not because I’m agnostic but because due to the nature of potentially infinite time at some point after how many googol years with a googol amount of 0s after that, something’s bound to replicate your consciousness perfectly at some point. It’s actually a really fascinating topic I like talking about. If infinite time and infinite possibilities exist, does non existence exist? Though that’s an awfully existentially dreadful thought process considering the ramifications of infinite existence and infinite possibilities during said infinite existence. I would say I’m confidently left leaning and I don’t think I could truly get along with anyone right leaning, at least America’s definition of right leaning. Left and right seems to have just become; do people deserve to suffer or do they deserve to live good lives? Being political is not something I expected to become but how can you not be when crimes against human rights are being passed on a daily basis and at the end of the day, everything’s political. Oftentimes I imagine the perfect moment as relaxing with my significant other playing games or cuddling in a cold room under blankets.
I value that special someone above all of the existential thoughts, the bad of the world, the good of the world, they practically become my world. So many worries wash away when I’m with them. I don’t know if that’s the defense mechanism my brain created to not feel bad 24/7 but if it is, I’m currently without it.
(3.c)
Insecurities:
I talk of philosophy and politics here but really I spend most of my time just playing games, watching stuff, and trying to not be sleep deprived. I’m also nowhere near as well spoken, heck sometimes I feel like my speech is broken. I won’t claim to be something I’m not, I sit at home while I complain about the world doing nothing about it wishing I had someone here with me. I’m not noble nor do I really want to be, I have morals I uphold but much like most other hypocrites I acknowledge that my comfortable life is built on the suffering of others without doing anything about it. Why? My sleep problems? Am I depressed? Is that why I have no energy to do anything? Do I just think nothing I could do could help? I can’t nail it down myself, maybe it’s a mix of everything, maybe I’m just a bad person. I have always told myself that if I had wealth I would help people but if I get that kind of wealth will I just become a wealth hoarder who tries to justify my riches as something I earned rather than something given to me through incredibly lucky circumstances? If I do help people is it because I’m a good person or out of guilt? Will I die alone? I feel like I drive everyone away with my clinginess, I get paranoid often and need reassurance often. It’s something I want to work on, something I’ve been trying to work on. Hearing that someone cares about me just never gets old. I value self awareness even if it’s painful.
(3.d)
Socializing:
I’m definitely a socially anxious/awkward mess, especially around strangers. I do feel a large amount of anxiety in public, people can’t tell by looking at my face since I kind of go stone faced in an attempt to block everything out but yeah you’ll notice that if we go out in public. Growing up my pediatrician said I was probably autistic, never got a formal diagnosis so that’s just great. But yeah that explains why I can’t make eye contact with people, I kinda just stare at the ground and avoid their gaze at all costs. A lot of these social struggles go away to a great degree once I know you for a bit but yeah I apologize for how terrible I am at socializing at first. Don’t let my social struggles fool you though, I love cuddling and being close with my person.
(3.e)
Sexuality:
I am a heterosexual male, though I’m not very masculine like at all. I may even be a bit feminine sometimes. Not that I believe any activity or manner of acting belongs to a gender but I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m definitely super affectionate and love it when my partner is too. I am open to dating demi people but I do have a libido so I don't think asexual would work out.
(4)
Interests:
(4.a)
Video Games:
As stated before, I do spend a lot of my time playing video games. It’s been hard lately with me having no energy but I really do want to play more games and have a good time playing them with you! I primarily play on PC though I do have a switch. I’m primarily into platform fighters, roguelikes, open world, survival, and sandbox games. As for single player story games, I enjoy watching them through twitch or youtube but for the most part I don’t play them myself. I’d watch you play them though!
Here’s a list of games we can play:
-Minecraft (Java)
-Risk of Rain 2
-Gunfire Reborn
-Roboquest
-7 Days to Die
-Phasmophobia
-Rust
-Unturned
-Bloons TD 6
-Platform fighters: Super Smash Bros. Melee, Slap City, Multiversus, Flash Party, Fraymakers
Whatever you want to play I’ll give it a shot! I will say that League bores me to death but I’ll play it for you :) I try to avoid MMOs, not because I don’t like them but because of how addicted I can get to them. I enjoy learning games in-depth so MMOs can be a fast track to addiction.
I recently got Kerbal Space Program 2 and ehhh not really worth it right now but hopefully later it will be? I’m super excited for Tears of the Kingdom! In the far off future I’m excited for Rivals of Aether 2 which is a platform fighter releasing in 2024, let me know of your most anticipated releases and I’ll see if I could play them with you!
Also I never got into FPS games but I could totally see myself playing like CoD with you or Escape From Tarkov. Any FPS really, I’m down.
I am a fan of Pokemon but with how things have been lately I don’t know how long that will last. Pixelmon is a common Pokemon mod I play for Minecraft if you want to play that! Also if I say I want to play something with you I mean it but there are often times when no matter how much I want to I'm just drained and can do little more than lay in bed so please don't think I'm making an excuse.
(4.b)
Science:
I really enjoy keeping up with the latest advances in pretty much everything, it could be biology, technology, astronomy, anything! I love seeing progression and I love talking about it! Really I could go on and on about what I’m obsessing about that day. I particularly love technology, ask me for my laptop specs I dare you. When I was little I always wanted to be a scientist of any kind but then insomnia and fear of college stuff hit me like a truck aaaand that’s the end of that dream.
(4.c)
Anime:
You got me, I like anime but I’d like to think my tastes are benign.
Here’s some of my favorites I can list from the top of my head:
- To Your Eternity
- Vinland Saga
- Spice and Wolf
- Re:Zero
- Mob Psycho
- Dr. Stone
- Attack on Titan
- Spy x Family
- My Hero Academia
- Ranking of Kings
- Demon Slayer
Okay I can go on and on but I will say I don’t like pointless fan service and the spamming of cliche anime moments. I mostly enjoy action and anything well animated if it doesn’t have a potato story. Heck Demon Slayer could be my top 3 out of season 2’s animation alone. I don’t watch slice of life often or romance but I would with you!
(4.d)
Misc:
I’m not going to go on and on about the tiniest little things when the main ones are covered but I’ll watch pretty much any show with you and anything really. I like random youtube videos that explain some kind of lore or mystery, sometimes mini documentaries too.
As for food I looove sushi and I’m a sucker for fast food. Okay and candy, definitely candy.
I used to play tennis but haven’t really had the opportunity nor friends to play it with and I’m way too socially anxious to seek it out. Also I will say that when we move to something like discord I type waaaay more casually. I’m not going to expect long paragraphs back and forth like we’re writing English papers for each other, I do enjoy long conversations but seriously don’t worry about having to put the utmost effort into every response, I just like making good first impressions I guess.
(5)
(5.a)
My Physical Characteristics:
I’m 5’8 (172cm), 128 pounds (58kg), with curly brown hair and blue eyes. I like keeping my hair long in the winter and cutting it in the summer. I’m pretty slim in general so if you’re looking for someone large, that’s not me. I don’t work out but my work is pretty physical so at least I’m not totally inactive. I don’t have the urge to work out or gain muscle but I do want to maintain my slim figure so if I start losing control of that I’ll work out. I like to keep my face shaved because I don’t think I look good with a beard/mustache so if you’re into those I apologize. I have an average amount of body hair? I’d prefer to be completely shaved but it’s easy to lose motivation with that battle, if you prefer shaved then I’d have no problem complying. Anyways here’s what I look like: https://imgur.com/a/MZZgf2t
(5.b)
My Physical Preferences:
Having physical preferences makes me feel shallow, if I could make myself not have them I would but unfortunately that’s now how that works. I don’t care if you’re shorter or taller than me and I don’t care if you weigh more or less than me. All I ask is that you’re slim-average weight. I would never ask for someone to be something I’m not. I don’t care about tattoos or piercings.
(6) Expectations of You: I am not looking for someone “exciting” or someone to “keep me on my toes” I’m not looking for someone to cater to my every whim or anything like that. I don’t care if you’re “boring” or if you aren’t “successful”. I know it’s a common thing for people to not want a “boring” relationship and to seek something argumentative or something with constant challenges but I just want to be with you. During the exciting times, the boring times, and everything in-between, all of it will be great with you! Maybe we do argue sometimes or maybe there will be challenges but that will never be something I purposefully seek out and I don’t want that to be something you seek out either. I will not play tricks on you and I will not play mind games, I expect the same from you. We all have personal measures of success we may or may not have lived up to but what I care about most is our commitment to each other. If we have each other we can get through tough times, near the ends of our lives I want us to look back and feel that this life together was worth more than anything. That’s not saying I want us to be haphazard, I don’t want us to make poor decisions for the sake of yolo and I want us to always be rational, especially with each other. I want you to be someone I can trust to make decisions and weigh the options with a level head, I’ll try my best to live up to the same for you. Most of all I want empathy, understanding, someone to feel the utmost comfort and trust in.
(7)
Living Situation:
Currently my life is pretty relaxed, I work 3 times a week as a night shift stocker. I currently live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my roommate but we’re looking to move into someplace larger by the end of the year if everything works out. The internet is weirdly great for Ohio too like I have fiber and later this year we’re supposed to be getting dedicated fiber so that’s neat. I’m not attached to Ohio so the ultimate goal living location wise is probably moving to a country that won’t send you into a lifetime of dealing with the repercussions from one medical emergency.
(8)
Deal Breakers:
Might as well make this simple and make it a list.
- Anti-vaxxers
- Unironically believing astrology
- Right wingers
- Hard drugs (occasional 420 and alcohol is fine, may even join you)
- Wanting children, there was a time when I was younger when I wanted children but with the state of the word that’s a definite no and I feel like I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress. I’d love a stress free life with as much time with you as possible.
- Homophobic
- Transphobic
- Racist
- Super Religious
- Don’t be a bigot and don’t deny facts.
(9)
Closing Remarks:
Well you made it, I was thinking that finding someone I’d be willing to put a lifetime of effort into at least required this much effort. If I think of anything more I’ll update the post. Also about timezones, it really doesn’t matter where in the world you are. I don’t have a sleep schedule and I have most of the week off from work so it really doesn’t matter.
I request that in your response you do put effort into it, it doesn’t have to be anywhere near as long as this but at least enough so I know that you read this and enough about you so I know why you saw potential compatibility. I will seriously read all of it and respond the best I can. I do also request a pic included in your response (sfw please) or one soon after we start talking to prove identity, I’ll send identity proving pics too. As long as this post is up, you can send a reply!

“I just had an idea pop into my head about something to do this coming weekend, and I wanted to bounce it off you two before it slips my mind” My friend Natasha said those words as the three of us sat on my couch one afternoon. I found myself sitting up slightly. Normally, Natasha was the last of our group to suggest things to do, letting Vinny, the third member of our group, or I come up with the plans to keep our free time occupied. The fact she was about to suggest something intrigued me. “What have you got in mind?” I asked her. A smile played over her face as her brown eyes seemed to flash. “How about a little ghost hunting?”
I felt Vinny sit straight up beside me. She had clearly grabbed both our attention now. The three of us were what you might call amateur ghost hunters, using very basic items we bought offline to visit some of the spookier places in the area and posting our adventures on YouTube, sort of like a crappier version of Ghost Adventures. “Now that’s one hell of a good idea” Vinny said, before a puzzled expression spread over his face. “But, I mean, where? We’ve already done most of the places around town. The Tioga building won’t let us in after that…well, what that one resident claims we stirred up in the old ballroom, and I’m not about to make the hours long drive to the Wolf Creek Inn” Natasha’s smile grew wider. “No, we don’t have to even go out of town for this one” she said, her voice dropping low, “What I’m suggesting, is we check out…” her voice trailed off, letting the suspense grow for a few seconds before finishing, “The Egyptian Theatre”
Instantly, Vinny let out a harsh bark of laughter. “HA! Now that’s a good one. You know damn good and well that the society that runs the theater won’t allow us in after hours to ghost hunt. As far as I know, they’ve never allowed any paranormal teams into the place” He pulled a face. “So, how exactly do you propose we get in there? You flutter your eyelashes for the night janitor and use your feminine charms to get us in?” Natasha still grinned, but rolled her eyes at our friend’s quip. “No, actually, I was thinking about using my lock picking skills to get us in” she declared. It was my turn to give her an incredulous look. “You’re joking, right?” I asked. She shook her head. “Nope, I’m dead serious” I let out an incredulous, almost baffled snort of laughter and pulled my glasses off my face, rubbing my eyes.
The country, and, to a large extent, the entire world, became gripped in an interest, sometimes bordering on obsession with all things Egyptian when King Tut’s tomb was discovered over a century ago. Many things came out of this, including the classic 1932 monster movie The Mummy. But, one thing that also came of this fever gripping the country was a desire to build many Egyptian style buildings. And one of the buildings which took this design and ran with it, were the movie theatres. A decade after the legendary discovery, over a hundred theatres had gone up all around the country, their interiors clad with fake temple columns, paintings of sphinxes and Egyptian gods such as Anubis decorating the walls, and hieroglyphs adorning the archways. People flocked in droves to them, both to watch movies, and live performances. But, like all trends, eventually, the interest began to wane, and as the late 20th Century approached, many began to shut down and be either remodeled, or straight up demolished. Today, there’s only between five and eight Egyptian style theatres left in the entire country.
And one just so happens to be right in the town I live in.
When I moved to Coos Bay, Oregon nine years ago, I immediately fell in love with the place. Even though it’s the largest coastal town on the Oregon coast, it’s a place which is more or less perpetually frozen in time, still looking pretty much as it did between thirty and seventy years ago. And, as someone who is not exactly into the modern world, it made a perfect place for me to live and escape away from the 21st Century. I began exploring right away, driving every street of it and the town neighboring it, North Bend, along with walking every alley and back road I could to learn the layout. That’s how I learned about the supernatural element to the town.
There are many places in town which people claim supernatural occurrences take place. From the remains of the old logging buildings on the estuary, to the old Tioga Hotel which has been remodeled into apartments, there is no shortage of ghostly tales. There was even the old McCauley Hospital, which had once been the focal point of the town’s annual ghost walks until it was demolished in 2018. As a side note, I heard a rumor that a couple people broke into that place right before it got torn down. Something sure spooked them, because a friend of mine on the police force told me they gave him a fright, bursting in the night before Easter and rambling about something. I always wondered what they saw in there.
But, for me, the place in town I always loved the most, and enjoyed the most hearing about the ghostly accounts told, was the Egyptian Theatre.
Originally built as a garage in 1922, it was renovated by a man named Charles Noble into a movie theatre in 1925, where it drew in droves of people from around the area to watch films, and enjoy live vaudeville performances. It continued to operate almost to the end of the 20th Century, when other theatres began to attract younger moviegoers, and for a while, it almost seemed as though the historic building might even be closed for good and gutted. But, thanks to the efforts of local preservation societies, it was saved, and now operates as a theatre once again. They mostly play only older movies, along with live performances.
And, of course, it draws curious people for the paranormal rumors surrounding it.
For years, people have reported strange occurrences happening inside the building, both when it’s open, and after hours. Patrons and employees alike have spoken about a pervasive feeling of being watched inside the building, but finding no one there when the place was searched. There have been reports of being touched by invisible hands, a few even pushed slightly. Beyond physical interaction, employees have reported the sounds of old film projectors playing and unseen audiences laughing after hours, along with the eerie playing of the theatre’s Wurlitzer pipe organ, along with a host of other occurrences. No ghost hunting team has ever gone in to try and document these events. And to Natasha, that was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Legal, or not.
“Are you freaking nuts?!” Vinny exclaimed, “Do you have any idea how much trouble we’d be in if we got caught breaking and entering? The cops around here are already a bit twitchy with the druggies and the homeless. You wanna give them a reason to throw us into jail alongside them?” Natasha held up a finger, flipping her black hair over her shoulder. “They won’t find out, because I have not one, but two aces in the hole here. The first is that thanks to being friends with Scott, I know the nighttime police sweeps, where they’re going to be and everything. There’ll be an hour long window where they’re not anywhere near the alley where the back door to the theatre is. We can get in and out with no threat of being spotted at all. And the second is, did you forget I’m dating Dylan now?” The realization washed over me like a wave; she had started dating the man who helped the preservation society run the theatre a month or so ago. Damn, she’s been planning this one for a while, I thought.
Vinny had a thoughtful look on his face, his green eyes darting around rapidly, but not seeing. “Hmm” he muttered, then looked at Natasha. “And you’re sure that there’s no chance of us getting caught?” he asked slowly. “Absolutely none” she said, then looked at both of us. “So, how about it?” For a few moments, there was silence, and then Vinny let out a chuckle. “What the hell, why not? The most exciting thing we’ve done the last few weeks is go down to the farmer’s market. This could shake things up a bit” I suddenly became aware that the two of them were looking at me, waiting for me to make my decision. I was always the most sensible of the three of us, doing all I could to keep us out of trouble with others as well as the law. But, I always had one nasty Achilles Heel ever since I had been a child, and that was peer pressure. So, despite the overwhelming feeling that I should tell them no, that I should say we should just find something else to do, I nodded. “Alright, let’s do it” I said simply, causing grins to break out on both of my friend’s faces.
I wish to God in retrospect that I’d just had the damn spine to stand up and say “No”
The rest of the week seemed to pass by faster than usual. Before I knew it, the weekend had arrived. We’d decided that late Saturday night would be the best time to do this, as most places downtown closed up between eleven and midnight, aside from the bars and strip club. To say I felt anxious about breaking the law, something I wasn’t used to doing at all, would be like calling a Megalodon a goldfish, but my worries about disappointing my friends ended up outweighing it. And so, at eleven-thirty, the three of us piled into my beat up Chevy Tahoe, and made our way towards downtown. As I drove us down Ocean Boulevard, which connected the two sides of town, something settled over me. I can’t exactly place it, even to this day. But it was the most uneasy feeling I’ve ever experienced. But I did my best to push it away. It’s nothing, Troy. It’s just because you’re, understandably, worried about this. Plus, the road being deserted isn’t helping much.
My mental chiding seemed to help center me a bit, which was a good thing. The road was now angling downward, and a moment later, we drove into downtown. The darkened shapes of the closed stores seemed to rise up higher on either side of us than they looked during the daytime. We’d decided to cruise by the front entrance first, just to see if anyone were still inside. As I turned the truck onto the main drag, the sign for the theatre rose high above us, a depiction of an Egyptian pharaoh next to the yellow and white letters which proclaimed its name to everyone who drove through town. I spared a glance as we passed it. The lit up marquee windows showed that The Blues Brothers and Jaws would be shown soon. For whatever reason, though, I couldn’t bring myself to look through the glass doors that showed the building’s darkened interior. The uneasy feeling had returned, and, for a moment, it felt as though if I did look, I would see someone, or something staring back out at me. And then we passed it, taking the next right and looping back around to Anderson Ave.
I turned the truck into the narrow alley drive which ran along the back of the theatre and neighboring buildings. Parking right next to the rear doors would be extremely conspicuous, so I pulled up a bit further and parked in a carport like area. Shutting off the engine, I turned to my two friends. “Well, this is it” I said, “Last chance to turn back if anyone’s having second thoughts” I’d hoped that either Vinny or Natasha would’ve gotten cold feet in the last few minutes, allowing us to go do something else. But there was no such luck. “Are you kidding me?” Natasha said from the passenger seat, “We are far too close to back out now!” Vinny grunted from behind me. Well, shit. Resigning myself to the fact they were determined to go through with this, I let a deep breath out through my nose and nodded. The others opened their doors and hopped out. A moment later, I followed.
The night air was cool and crisp on my skin as we slowly walked back down the alley to the rear of the yellow-ish, tan building. Three different sets of red double doors were built into the back of the theatre. Natasha pulled something out of her coat pocket, and I realized, with a small pang of surprise, that it was a lock pick set. A legitimate lock pick set. “Where the hell did you get that?” I whispered to her. She shrugged and smiled. “I have my ways of getting things” she said simply, then pointed to the far right set of doors. “We’ll have a bit of cover from that electrical box. You two keep an eye out while I deal with the lock” And with that, she scurried forward, bending down in front of the door handles. Vinny and I stood guard, each of us looking down both ends of the alley. As the soft sound of Natasha messing with the lock filtered over to me, I realized just how quiet it was. And how eerie hearing downtown so quiet was. Aside from a few distant booms and bangs, and the far off sound of a dog barking, all I could hear was the whistle of the wind as it whipped between the old buildings.
An involuntary shiver cascaded up my spine, and I tried again to reason myself back to a relative sense of calm. “Get a grip, dude, you’re gonna be fine” I whispered under my breath. But this time, it felt as though I weren’t able to entirely convince myself. I suddenly became aware of a creeping sensation, one which made me shoot a look around. Nothing moved in the stillness, no indication of anyone besides us being in the alley. And, yet…I was overcome with the distinct feeling of being watched. Not by either of my friends. But…by someone else. Before I had a chance to even think about it, I heard a rather loud click, and Natasha let out a soft laugh of triumph. “We’re in, ladies and gentleman!” she declared, standing up and pulling on the door. It opened silently, the streetlight in the alley casting a small shaft of light into the darkness beyond. Turning, she waved an arm at Vinny and I. “Come on, let’s get inside”
Before either of us could say anything, she turned and disappeared into the dark. I shot a look at Vinny, who simply shrugged. “After you, my man” he whispered. I let out a deep sigh, and then moved to the door. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small flashlight, and then pulled on the heavy metal, slipping inside, Vinny right behind me. The darkness swallowed us as the door closed. For a moment, a small rush of panic from not being able to see flashed through me, before a light appeared beside me. It wasn’t from a flashlight, though; instead, a small, orange flame flickered beside me. “Don’t turn on your flashlights yet, just follow me” Natasha said, the flame making her face seem to dance and move behind it. She turned and headed away, leaving us no choice but to follow. I listened to her and didn’t turn on my flashlight. But every fiber of my being was screaming at me to. Because the feeling of being watched out in the alleyway? Had quintupled in here. The best way to describe it, was that we were angrily being stared at. And I didn’t like the sensation one bit.
Natasha led us up a flight of steps and pushed open another door. “We’re here” she said, still keeping her voice low, “You can turn on your flashlights now” Thank you, God, I silently said, snapping mine on and casting a bright white light into the room we’d entered. A moment later, so did my two friends’ lights. The beams played around, and I heard Vinny let out a bit of a gasp. “Ho-lyyyy shit” he muttered.
Natasha had guided us into the main theatre. The ceiling rose high above our heads, almost out of sight of even the flashlights. Rows upon rows of red movie seats stretched out and away from us, seeming almost unending in the shadows. The walls were all covered in hieroglyphs, all still original from the 1920s. To our left, the second story, which housed a smaller row of seats, along with the projection room rose about twenty feet above us. And to the right, was the stage itself. It was flanked by two huge columns, the screen rolled up and revealing a mosaic of an Egyptian building on the back wall, with two men clutching staffs sitting on either side. Directly in front of the stage sat the organ, its seating bench tucked beneath it.
“Okay, this is a trip to be in at night!” Natasha exclaimed excitedly, then pulled the backpack she’d been wearing off her shoulders. Dropping it into a seat, she unzipped it and began pulling items from it. “Guys, here” she said, holding them out. Vinny stepped forward and grabbed the camcorder from her; as someone who’d had a lifelong dream of being a filmmaker, he was our resident cameraman. I stepped forward and took two items from her: an infrared thermometer and an EVP recorder. The rest, she placed on the ground, and then faced Vinny. “Alright, tell me when you’re recording” He fumbled with the camcorder for a second, then shot her a thumbs up. Instantly, she took on a somber, eerie expression, giving an admittedly creepy look at the camera. “Well, well, welcome back to The Three Ghostkuteers, everyone. I hope you all have been well since our last trip. Tonight, you join us in a very, very special place, and one close to home for us. We are currently in the Egyptian Theatre in Coos Bay, Oregon, one of the last remaining in the country. It was built in the 1920s by a man named Charles Noble-“
I turned away, tuning her out as I did. The woman really, really enjoys being in front of the camera. Better her than me. Shining my light around, I looked up at the balcony. I could see the small hole in the projection booth where the movie projector would shine out onto the screen. Something caught the beam’s light, reflecting off it slightly, and I aimed the light at the wall. It was a wrought iron light fixture, one which had been shaped into the figure of a King Cobra, poised to strike. Gazing around, I saw they adorned much of the walls. I let out a small shudder at it. God, do I hate snakes. Thankfully, though, the feeling of being watched I’d had in the alley and the darkened back of the theatre had seemingly disappeared. Yeah, see, what’d I tell you, Troy? Nothing but your nerves.
Natasha had finished her opening monologue and moved to the edge of the stage, on which she placed the small, square spirit box. “And now, let’s see if anyone would like to speak with us” she said, flicking it on. Instantly, the silence of the theatre was shattered by the sound of static, intermittently interrupted by quick snippets of radio shows being picked up. “Is there anyone here who’d like to talk to us?” she called out into the huge room. The static and snippets were the only sound to answer her. After a minute, she tried again. “Are there any spirits who’d like to communicate with us?” There was still nothing. Vinny panned the camera from the box to Natasha as she paced back and forth for a few minutes. A small look of disappointment flooded over her face, but she instantly plastered it over with the same look she’d given the camera before. “Well, it looks like the spirit box isn’t gonna work tonight, so we’re gonna have to try something else” She pulled out an EVP recorder identical to mine and switched it on. “Let’s try this instead, shall we? Remember, by the way guys, if you’re new here and want to see more, to like and subscribe-“
I turned away again, feeling a small pang of irritation flow through me. This is freakin’ ridiculous, man. The longer we stay in here, the more chance we have of getting caught. Truth be told, as much as I enjoyed ghost hunting, I didn’t even really believe in the paranormal. In all the years the three of us had filmed together, not once had we caught anything, on tape or otherwise. In fact, many times we’d had to fake spooky occurrences in order to make sure our videos got any views at all. This is your own fault, man, I silently chided myself, you’re the one who couldn’t stand up to them and say no. You really, seriously need to grown a spine and learn how to say no. The mental self lecture was furthering my rotten mood, and I began to feel a wave of anger at my two friends, as well as myself boil up.
“Hell with this” I finally muttered, then turned and began walking up the aisle. “Troy, where the hell are you going?” I heard Natasha call out behind me. I stopped, not looking over my shoulder, but quietly aiming my voice behind me and allowing a hint of irritation to seep into it. “I’m gonna go check out the second floor balcony, okay? I don’t exactly like just standing here” For a moment, there was silence, and then her voice came, soft and almost apologetic. “Okay, go ahead” Before she could say anything more, I strode away, walking to the open doorway which led out of the theater and into the concession area. I hooded my flashlight beam with one hand to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally shine out of the glass entrance doors into the street and looked around. The lobby and concession stand took up most of the front area, the darkened shape of it stretching along the far wall.
Taking a few steps ahead, I turned and looked up at the wall above me. Large, blue letters stretched out from one side of it to the other. Through these doors pass the most wonderful people. I snorted softly. “Yeah, unfortunately, not tonight” I shook my head, then looked around. And nearly jumped out of my skin. Something also seemed to jump back. I felt my heartbeat begin to race in my chest and my breath quickened. “Shit…” I let out weakly, then slowly moved forward. After a few steps, I suddenly realized what I’d seen and let out a soft laugh of relief.
“Your own damn reflection, you fucking pussy” Shaking my head, I turned away from the glass wall and headed for the stairs to the second floor. At the base of them, I stopped and shone my flashlight up. “Ooh, boy” I said quietly. Sitting next to the stairway like a sentry, was a huge, golden statue of a pharaoh. It towered over me, and I estimated that, were it be standing straight up, it’d easily be between eight and ten feet tall. It stared straight ahead at the wall ahead of it, and I couldn’t help but let out a small shiver as I stared at it. It just seemed so damn eerie in the dark, and I quickly moved past it, heading up the stairs and stepping out onto the second story balcony.
I shone my light around. Red seats again surrounded me, though this time far fewer. Ahead of me, I could see the balcony’s edge and the hulking shape of the main stage beyond. I could also see the beams of my friends’ flashlights playing over it, and hear both of their voices speaking softly. Deciding while I was up here to at least check out the projection booth, I strode over to the door and tried to turn the handle. It was locked. Feeling my irritation bubble over into exasperation, I jiggled the handle in some stupid attempt to open it. But the door stayed shut. I turned away and rubbed my eyes, again hearing the voices of my friends softly filtering up to me from down below.
“Hey, if there really are any ghosts, or spooks, or specters, or whatever in here? If you’re actually real, could you appear to us, please?” I whispered to no one, “That way my friends can get what they want and I can go home” I received only silence in reply. I hadn’t really expected anything, anyways. You know what? Screw this, I’m going back down there and telling them I’m going home, with or without them. This is beyond stupid, I just broke the law for what? For nothing! For something dumb as hell. And with that, I turned to walk away. But I hadn’t even taken a single step when something crashed into me like a wave. The breath was driven from my lungs as I felt a massive chill shoot through me, as though I’d been doused with ice water. “What the fuck?!” I hissed through gritted teeth, then froze, my eyes going wide. The feeling of being watched had returned with a vengeance, and it had seemingly been ramped up in its intensity. I shot a look around, but saw nobody.
Still, the feeling remained, and with each passing second, it almost seemed to grow stronger. Chill after chill rolled up my spine, and even though I didn’t really believe, something deep inside me told me that it was time to get out. Okay, time to leave, I said in my head, and headed quickly for the stairs. As I reached the head, I turned to look back one final time. That’s when I saw something. It disappeared when I aimed my flashlight at it, but I swear a second earlier it had been the outline of a person, standing in the shadows and watching me. The split second sight catapulted me into motion, and I hurried down the steps, shining my light every which way but loose. Believer or not, I knew something wanted us out. I’d planned on jumping off the second to last stair and running for the main theatre floor. But as I reached the bottom, I froze.
For a moment, I couldn’t place why. And then, the realization fell over me like a tsunami. I let out an involuntary gasp, and fear like I’d never felt before surged through me. I didn’t want to turn around and look. I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen it. I desperately wanted to. But, like a dumbass character in a horror movie, I couldn’t help it. I needed to look. I slowly turned, aiming my flashlight back up. And I couldn’t help but let out a strangled scream, falling backwards over my own feet as I began to backpedal rapidly.
The statue of the pharaoh still sat where it had. It still towered over me, looking as imposing and eerie as ever. But it’s carved and painted eyes were no longer staring straight ahead at the wall. Instead, they had somehow moved. And when I’d turned, I’d come to find they were staring directly at me.
I scrambled to my feet, snatching the flashlight from the floor where I’d dropped it and aiming it at the statue again. It stared straight out at nothing again. But I knew what I’d seen. It hadn’t been a trick of my mind, or the light. The freaking thing’s eyes had moved to watch me as I passed down by it. I began to stammer out as I backed away from it. “Okay, that’s it, no no no no, we’re done here, fuck this shit, I’m officially a believer, we’re leaving, right now” I kept backing towards the doorway to the theatre, never taking my eyes off the statue. I was terrified I’d seen it suddenly stand up and turn to lumber after me like Boris Karloff or something.
The blaring sound of the theatre’s organ slashed through the silence, causing me to let out another strangled scream and jump almost a foot off the ground. I whipped around, thinking I would see my moronic friends tinkering with the instrument. Instead, I froze again. The theatre was no longer dark. Both of my friends had seemingly vanished from the room, as I could no longer see them. The movie screen had somehow been pulled down, and above me, I heard the whir of the movie projector playing. An old, black and white movie, one which had no sound, played on the screen, occasionally changing to show dialogue being displayed in white letters.
It was also no longer empty.
The entire theatre was packed. I saw people sitting at almost every single seat in the huge room. I could only see the backs of their heads as they watched the movie playing. At the edge of the stage, what looked like a man now sat at the organ, playing it in time with the film. A slapstick moment came across the screen, and the audience began laughing. In any other situation, it would’ve been a comforting sound. But at that moment, it was the most spine chilling sound I’d ever heard. Especially as another wave of realization crashed into me. From the little I could see, everyone in the theatre looked to be dressed in long passed fashions.
That’s when the voice, low and quiet, came from behind me. “Good evening, sir” it said. It sounded like a man’s voice, one rather low and deep pitched, but something about it paralyzed me on the spot. The voice continued, putting on an air of pleasant politeness. “We’re so glad you could make it, it’s been so long since we’ve had new patrons arrive at a showing. If I could just see your ticket, please?”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Then, I managed to squeak out two words. “Uh, ticket?” The tone of the voice seemed to change somewhat. “Yes, your ticket. That’s the only way you could’ve gotten in. Please, let me verify it and show you to your seat” Ohhh, shit. Whoever, or whatever the voice belonged to, thought I had shown up like a regular moviegoer. The voice’s tone became less polite. “You do have a ticket, right, sir?” I was beyond terrified to answer, but I was more terrified to remain silent. For a moment, I considered lying. But I feared what might happen if I did. So I told the truth.
“I….uh, I, uh….I don’t have a ticket, sir” I stammered out, my voice barely above a whisper. Instantly, all sound stopped in the room like someone had flipped a switch. “You…don’t have a ticket?” the voice said, all pretense of manners vanishing from it, “Then how did you get in here for the late night showing?” Oh, god. I forced myself to speak, still unable to say anything except the truth. “My…my friends and I….broke in…through the back door…to…ghost hunt…” There was silence for a few moments, and then a heavy hand dropped onto my shoulder. My head swiveled to look at it. Oh, fuck me sideways. It wasn’t a regular hand. It was a fucking claw. One with black skin, tipped with what looked like razor sharp nails. It sat there for a moment, then tightened; almost painfully so, making me let out a small whimper of pain.
That’s when I looked up. Everyone in the theatre had turned to look at me. My initial thought had been correct; they all wore clothing from almost a century ago, and not the stuff cosplayers wear, either. They also had very angry expressions on their faces, as if they’d just noticed the intruder among their midst. The voice finally came again, almost directly behind me. Its tone lowered, almost sounding guttural and animal, making my legs almost melt into jelly from the fear. “Then, might I make a suggestion to you and your trespassing little friends?” My breath came in rapid, ragged gasps, and I barely managed to force out the one word. “Yes?”
“LEAVE”
At the single word reply, which now more closely resembled a growl than a word, I did something I will forever wish I hadn’t. I finally turned and looked up at who was addressing me. The only way I can describe what happened is, my mind shattered. The next thing I remember, I was crashing into the back doors of the theatre into the night.
And I was screaming.
That was a month or so ago. When I’d stumbled back into the alley, I’d turned and, in what I can only call blind fear and panic, bolted for my truck. I hadn’t even heard my friends chasing after me. Not until Vinny caught up to me as I scrambled with my keys, grabbing me from behind and turning me to face him. He said the look I’d had on my face scared him and Natasha more than anything ever had before. I’d been pale as a sheet, my eyes wider than they ever thought a human’s could be. I'd been babbling softly. I’d been saying the words “They want us to leave” over and over. They didn’t ask me what had happened. They just pushed me into the backseat of my truck and drove away from there. It was clear, as I found out later on, that both of them hadn’t seen anything. As far as they were concerned before seeing me dash to the rear doors, it was just an empty theatre. Neither one of them ever asked me what I saw that night. And for that, I’m thankful. Because I could never utter from my lips what I did see.
But I’ve had nightmares since then. Horrible ones. Ones that’ve been so bad, I had to let out what happened to me, deciding to just post it here, regardless of whether people believe me or not.
Nightmares about being back in that theatre after hours. About seeing that pharaoh statue’s eyes flick in its painted sockets to look at me. About seeing all those people, people long since dead, sitting and watching the films they did when they were alive. About seeing that hand fall on my shoulder, hearing that voice, telling me not to come back until I have a ticket.
And about turning to see who the hand and voice belonged to.
The Egyptian Theatre will be celebrating its centennial this year. People are planning to show up in 1920s cars, dressed in period clothing. They’re even going to show an old, silent film as part of the festivities. But I won’t be attending it. I won’t ever go anywhere near it again. The one time I tried, a week or so ago, I started trembling with fear. And the mental image played over and over in my head.
The image of turning to see that horrible canine head attached to the human-like body, red, glowing eyes glaring down at me as it’s sharp teeth glinted in the light.
I pray to god I never will end up with a ticket to one of its late night showings.
But I can't help but fear that, like those packed into the theatre, sooner or later, we all will.