Fishing the kankakee river

Crutic felt the realspace reasserted itself with a faint lurch and a rattle of the spaceframe, the darkness behind his eyelids peeled away just in time to witness the streaks of light coalescing into a field of stars. And after that...nothing. Outside of the angry red glow of the indicator lightings around him and the graphics of the instrument cluster before him, he might as well be witnessing a portal into an infinite abyss so dark that his eyes may as well have remained shut. It wasn’t unexpected, though: the brief mission overview had made it abundantly clear that where his flight element was needed was among the interstellar void. The nearest star was nearly three parsecs away and was only called a star as a tribute to its fiery past - its photosphere likely offered its last gimmer millions of years ago. But it never mattered on how much prep was given, it was never a comfortable feeling to know that something is out there in the consuming absence. It was a small solace then, when his sensors chirped to indicate that it had achieved what the Human eye could not and found something out there within seconds. Before the modulated tone of his flight lead even made it through the constant hissing of the life support airflow, Crutic had his hands around the control yoke to disengage his TIE from the Gozanti’s docking tube.
“Target identified as a Ghtroc 720, range three-seventy kicks, armed. Form up to intercept and dissuade.”
The brisk affirmation from himself and Mynock Two and Four was almost drowned out by the whine from the engine as the four Imperial fighters screamed away from their transport and aligned themselves in a rough quadrilateral formation towards the sensor blip. It was drifting, sublights inactive and transponder silent, all in a valiant effort to blend into the interstellar background. But without jammers to further obscure their presence or a cloak to hide it completely, they were simply a something in a sea of nothing. And the moment the occupants realized this and that the Empire was there to do something about it, the engine arrays that flanked either side of the light freighter flared to life.
”Unidentified Ghtroc 720, you are in a restricted sector, return to designated Region 12 volume or face the consequence.”
Despite his attempt at civility, Mynock One and everyone present knew that this wasn’t an accidental drift into the gap between Region 12 and the edge of the greater galaxy; it was merely the latest instance of another group of beings from within that thought that they had the stealth necessary to break the region-wide lockdown. And with no change to their vector, it appeared that this particular group has the will to do a little more resisting. Crutic can’t help but consider a brief flicker of irony in that the energy spent into presently futile evasive flying would be better applied to their hyperdrive to make it to their next jump. As it is, either option would result in the TIEs landing shots on them, but at least the latter would be more…inconvenient for him and his immediate comrades in the long term.
The last warning was issued as the four fighters closed the last hundred kicks and this time a response came through in the form of a pair of crimson bolts fizzling through the formation. And at the same instant, Crutic Jo’ran retreated into the crevasse in the back of his mind and RG-273-76 took his place.
Safeties off. Targeting computer rendered an approximation of the freighter’s saucer shape upon the display. Align it with the crosshair. Target lock shrilled. Squeeze the trigger. Shields rippled violently as green energies hammered home.
Not good enough.
Check surrounding for teammates within immediate maneuvering vectors. Opening between Mynock One and Four. They peeled off after they had done their own run. Good. Pour in speed to gain distance.
Sounds of laser cannons from behind. Dodge. Stabilize as the rain of bolts trailed behind his flight path, too slow. Perform a sharp banking turn to bring the freighter back in front. Check for alignment to target. Sensor flagged a new relevant information: steep power draw on the hyperdrive module.
“Target almost ready to jump,” he notified into the comms, a practiced motion with a hand to divert power from the engines to the laser cannons.
Trigger down. Shields flashed but held. Tough gutkurr of a target, could do with a bomber’s warhead right about now. No time to linger on what is not available, focus on what is available now. Time for another run. Shields ate another strafe-
Mynock Two reports shield failure as explosion flared directly ahead in the profound blackness, revealing the viewport’s spoked features for the first time. Apply maximum deflection of etheric rudder to avoid the blast, clench against the inertia. Beads of molten metal showered the fighter chassis, but nothing to prompt damage notification.
A little too close for comfort, will have to talk to Two later.
Mynock Four snarled his own displeasure and reported his intent to break off due to damage sustained on his starboard radiator array. No time to worry about him, as long as the target is not disabled. Loop high over target, reacquire lock. Send down pelting fire across the freighter’s dorsal power conduit. Something exploded and their portside sunlight array wavered.
New target. Engine endured a respectable volley before belching out a blast of unfocused ionized particles with most of its glowing innards, submitting the starship into an uncontrolled yaw.
A sudden garble of noises filled his helmet as he directed his focus to the starboard engines, and before his thumb had a chance to render that to equally inoperable slag, a stilted Galactic Basic superimposed itself on top of the audio intrusion.
“Stop! Imperials, stop! We surrender!”
Crutic found himself sucking in a lungful of the stale, cool air as he recognized the Aqualish language and its translator assisted intentions. The rest of the Mynock flight also shared this moment of realization as they broke off from their attack vectors. Well, most of them anyway. At some point Mynock Four became a barely visible trail of titanium and quadanium steel. No life signs. Dank farrik.
”Ghtroc 720, power down immediately and stand by for boarding.” Mynock One’s voice had been level, but there was no denying that those benign words were layered with vitriol that preemptively silenced any kind of protest the other party might want to say. After a few satisfied seconds, the seething hatred dissipated as he changed frequency to the Gozanti to confirm that the onboard boarding party was prepared for the task.
Not long later, the frequency switched back to local and started with a deep sigh that Crutic could practically hear the muscles unclench itself. ”Mynock Flight, systems check.”
“Mynock Two, all systems nominal.”
”Mynock Three, likewise,” Crutic said, examining the reading his flight systems were offering him. Though, in the back of his mind, he could virtually hear the choice words picked by the maintenance team about the surface defects that were received during his near-miss of the explosion. At least he can point the blame to Two this time.
“Good, perform one last sensor sweep before redocking with the Deliverance and meet up at the main hold for debrief.”
A pair of affirmations later, the trio flowed over the crippled freighter at maximum sensor sweep to detect any kind of trap or other possible hindrances for the Gozanti boarding party. They also made sure to fly as uncomfortably close to the freighter as realistically plausible. Although the occupants surely wouldn’t see them, they will make sure they can hear them as loud as their aural sensors are willing to emulate, and hope that the distinctive howl of the twin ion engines resonate deep within the instinctive part of their psyche. The scans turned up nothing more than some dozen beings crammed in its cargo hold, and with that, they pulled back to give a wide berth to the docking Gozanti before connecting with it themselves. What happened next was out of their hands, they have an after action report to perform. With a layer of grief in their hearts.
***
While the return to Marjora Space was a transit that took only a matter of minutes, the sublight transit from the system’s edge to the Decadence was long enough to complete the debrief to an educational amount of detail, clean up, and prepare for the early departure. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a month or so more until the patrol rotation brought them back to the star destroyer low in Majora Prime’s atmosphere, but the recent development had details to iron out. Such as the prisoners they now have board that needed to go through processing - and if they looked like the stormtroopers were rougher with them than necessary, Crutic had chosen not to comment - and registering the loss of a member and securing their replacement. All of that meant at least a few days of shore leave.
At least, what actually constitutes a “shore leave” for the Imperials. It was anybody’s guess on how well the collective bulkhead of owned and affiliated starships, bases, and outposts have achieved a semblance of civilian life where enlisted and officers alike could loosen their mask of professionalism and indulge in a slice of greater society beyond their duty to the Imperial preservation and continuation. It was never intended to interfere with the military aspects and readiness, to be sure, but being surrounded slightly-different-walls and training bouts that might have been less about fitness and more about unspoken exchange of credits sets the scene for much needed stimulation to distract from the monotony of service. It was also an open secret that the galaxy’s assortment of liquid courage and other vile substances that Crutic would begrudge someone for partaking had slipped past regulation and formed an elusive enterprise that based themselves in various need-to-know locations. And the less said about the “flecks of inspiration” fresh from the Sapius Corp mines the better.
That being said, not all non-standard marketplace have to be so despicable, there were also demands from the more respectable members of society: the market for local goods. Ranging from simply a more comfortable clothing that could be worn under uniforms to prevent chafing to non-regulation but cozy blankets to keep warm during power rationing wherever one get stationed, or - one that Crutic is currently partaking in - foods that is used to supplement the stubborn mess droid’s nutritionally balanced but nonetheless dreary meals. Today was some kind of fried fish topped with a grated and pickled Marjora native seafloor tuber, courtesy of “The Shuttle Pilot” in the Decadence’s forward hangar’s armory. It wasn’t ba’buir Eres-Cruzia’s squirmer tiingilar that viciously strikes at the nose, but it was enough of a comfort food to dull the edges to a rough day.
A sigh brought back the reprimanding words of FS-273-4 - then, Mynock One - to the forefront of his mind. Yes, HG-273-81 - Mynock Two - shouldn’t have shot the target when there were friendly within the field of fire, but it was Crutic that blocked Mynock Four’s view of his projected flight path that costed him the necessary reaction time to recognize the explosion that crippled his craft and subsequently made him easy pickings for the freighter’s turret. It was an honest mistake, if a costly one. A life and an entire TIE fighter, the former a loyal member of the Empire and the latter an entire craft worth of irreplaceable components, gone to deep space. It wasn’t an uncommon occasion in the attrition against time, but missed all the same. With a sharp breath and an exertion of will, he suppressed the emotional baggage and sank into another crumbly bite to focus on its fishy, floral flavors that accompanied the textureless slurry of carbs and fiber methodically dispensed upon his metal platter.
Unable to keep it idle for long, his mind suggested the possibility of stopping by the star destroyer’s training facility, its spacious quality an allure to contrast against the cramped confines of the Gozantis. The notion was immediately dashed by a mouse droid that weaved through the forest of legs and beckoned for his attention. And with it came the news that his immediate future would be occupied by a debatably better use of his time. Downing the last of the vitamin enriched baked cuboid with a glass of water, he dismissed the droid and deposited the tray onto the outgoing conveyor on his way out of the mess hall. Helmet replaced securely on his head, he tackled the maze-like corridors and the necessary turbolifts at a brisk jog that eventually deposited him in front of the comms substation. The naval troopers guarding the room eyed him briefly before offering a nod of recognition and returning their bored stare at the opposite wall, implicitly granting him access to the inner workings.
With no combat situations or priority broadcast in effect to demand its full use, the ship’s comms served as a node that services a miniscule bandwidth to the greater galactic network. To the Imperial personnel with investment to the wider galaxy, it was a treasured peephole. It was monitored, of course, but it was a small price to pay for the privilege to be in touch with family and friends. Such as the case for Crutic. An exchange of relevant information to the comms operator later, a small monitor on the wall buzzed to life and resolved into a grainy image of a familiar woman that warmed something deep within his being.
”Su’cuy, buyca’kov,” she greeted, the sarcasm in her voice somehow making it through the heavy warping and choppiness of signal loss.
Crutic paused in his process of unraveling the layers of his persona for a second to grimaced slightly from what he considered to be an uncultured greeting; although the jab at the end served as a reminder that his helmet was still on, an issue he fixed immediately in one smooth motion.
“Hey, Lythsia, are ba’buire home?”
His half-sister took a few seconds to receive the message before shaking her head, assuming that’s what the poorly captured head blur would suggest. ”No, ba’buir Allisyr is out of business meeting down south ba’buir Eres is in the shop. It’s restock day.”
“It’s a miracle that you are at home at all!” Crutic offered a smile he reserved for a few beings in the entire Galaxy. While he had wanted to at least exchange pleasantries to his grandparents after a few long months, he is more than glad to share the time with his sibling.
“Oh, I could be elsewhere too if that’s what you prefer.”
“No, you’ll do,” he paused for a few seconds before speaking again, andt this time, his voice was grim, “how’re things out there?”
Lythsia gave an expression that’s hard to read through both the video’s low resolution and just the mix of emotions that fought for dominance in mere seconds. “If you mean the rebels, they are still focusing their efforts at Coruscant. We haven't really heard much about their interaction with the Governor after the demand for disarmament.”
“So you're holding up?”
“The ‘New Republic’ doesn’t bother my sector much. Shame, I got a backlog of datacard I’m fully willing to let someone ‘liberate’.”
Crutic could feel his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he shot a glance at the comm operator, who didn’t seem to take much notice about the details of the conversation. Of course, he has no reason to suspect his sister of treacherous thoughts as she is an alumni of SAGEducation, but it never hurts to be cautious against misinterpretations.
“Lythisa…”
”I know, I know, I shouldn’t joke about these things. But honestly? I don't know how long it would hold out. The talking heads up top don’t give a gundark’s sheb about who taxes them at the end of the day. And our government is too worried about the lack of star destroyers to correct that.”
Crutic sighed and scratched at his hair, untangling a few helmet-induced knots along the way. It seems like that was a trend that would progressively get worse as the years went by. Not that he can do anything about it, he has an obligation here in Region 12, and it’s entirely up to the whims of Admiral Jaquinn - and Governor Ryehall above him - to see if they plan to do anything about the anarchy going on in the galaxy.
“Well, anything good happen since we last spoke?”
Lythisa thought for a long moment - or the video feed froze, hard to say - before she shrugged. ”Team Uviuy made it through the preliminary in Galactic Cup, there’s that.”
A light chuckle escaped his lips at the new topic. As far as good news goes, it was quite low bar but he could at least appreciate the effort to ease the tension. He chose to latch onto it. “Think they will make it to at least the Semi-Finals?”
“Only if Team Fondor gets disqualified.”
“So that’s a no.”
”Last time Uviuy even got close to the podium, the Unknown Regions was still being charted.”
Crutic offered a puzzled expression at what appeared to be a trivia, given that the subject referenced was self-defining. “It still is-”
”Exactly,” Lythsia face was smug.
The conversations continued amicably, delving onwards from sport recaps to a prod at Lythsia's quest for romance and the subsequent defense of her character by criticizing her now-former-partners despite him having never met them, which naturally lead her to remind him that he should be more worried about his own lack of engagements. And inevitably brought the focus back on his activities for the last few months that wasn't obscured by confidentiality.
But far too soon, a movement by the doorway signaled that his allotted time had ran out. The monitor blacked with his sister's parting words, leaving behind a pang of wistful homesickness to swirl in his mind, as it always tended to do after such a session. And as he has done before and will do in the coming times, he took a moment to regained his composure. A process where vulnerability abdicate its role to the facade that grew away from the tender care. One of arrogance, pride, and ruthlessness; but also one of conviction, determination, and intensity. One of an Imperial pilot. As the helmet consumed his head, his soul stilled and he stepped forth down the grey halls with renewed resolve.

1.
I had only been around maybe a few months, working as a temp for my hopefully new boss.
He's a good guy, tries to do his best in spite of all the trouble that seems to find him, and generally, he does a lot to keep the city safe.
He goes by 'Nocturne', and no, I don't know his civilian identity, nor does he know mine. It's better that way.
I perform a primary support role for him, leveraging my powers to add some versatility in his struggles against superpowered crime.
For a Powerless, he's pretty fucking strong.
Wait, fuck, I mean 'Differently Powered Individual', that's the corporate term for it.
He doesn't deal with nonsense, when he captures a villain, he makes sure they don't come back. He doesn't kill them, just directs them to his therapist and tells them he's able to keep a secret.
When I'm not out with him fighting supervillains, I'm usually around the base, doing repairs to his technology, cleaning off blood, vomit, and the occasional mutagenic goo from his spare uniforms.
That's what he calls them, uniforms. Not costumes, not Hero Suits, they're his work uniform, and he'll be damned if people say otherwise.
So imagine my surprise when, during a deep clean, I found something odd.
It was the costume of resident nutjob and shock jockey Galvin. Literally, that's his name. I took it out and looked it over.
That's when I saw others, all of them from past villains, like Mutamex, who actually mutated him into a fish hybrid that required a lot of genetic therapy to reverse, or The Victorian, whose entire MO was trying to destroy modern technology and reset society to his preferred temporal state.
Last I heard, he'd been thrown into the past, and had left a letter thanking Nocturne for helping him when nobody could.
I also saw The Crocodilian's costume, and found it weird that it was actually a costume.
The Crocodilian was a weird one, he was constantly asking for help, but he'd go on rampages like nobody's business.
It occurred to me that these were all villains he'd defeated, people who had given up their plans entirely, or had been neutralized in spite of Nocturne's efforts.
Well, Nocturne was out for a few days, some joint operation that was too dangerous for support to tag along in, and you never really get a chance to have some fun.
So, I tried the costumes on.
Galvin's had some standard electricity enhancements in it, which boosted his already present shock jockey loadout.
The Victorian's was just an old, stuffy suit, and Mutamex's was better left alone, so they went back in.
One of the costumes had belonged to Tyrant, whose entire thing was brainwashing and mind control, and wearing the costume, I could tell those powers were enhancements, and I put it back before I got tempted to use them.
The Crocodilian's, however, was actually just a lizard suit, a harness, arm and leg bands, and a collar. It had always seemed to lifelike on TV, so naturally I put it on.
Or at least, I tried to. There was no zipper and no apparent way to put it on. It was only after puzzling it out that I realized the mouth was the entrance.
One quick tug later, and a widely distended opening later, I was actually comfortably slipping it on, my feet settling snugly, my hands finding the right fingers to fill, even slipping the head over mine was simple. I moved around in it, noting that it was actually pretty hard, that I had to kind of hunch over and walk on my toes.
In fact, it was surprisingly more comfortable like that. There were enhancements, like something to make the claws capable of piercing stone and using that to climb, being able to move around on all fours quickly, being able to whip my tail and wrap it around things-
Wait, tail?
I looked at my tail, which curled up as I looked at it. I grabbed my head and pulled, but it stayed on. I hurried to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I opened my mouth, expecting to see my face, but instead I saw a crocodilian mouth.
I looked at my hands, realizing I was registering them as being normal for me, and I was very quickly losing all sense of who I used to be.
I called Nocturne.
"What?" He asked.
"I, uh, have a situation here." I said.
"What is it?"
"Short version. I put on The Crocodilian's costume and am currently experiencing rapid loss of identity."
There was a pause, followed by, "Alright, stay on the line. Just keep talking to me."
"Okay. Do you know what is happening? Do you know why this is happening?"
"That costume is a quantum superimposition matrix, at least, that's what the lab boys say it is. It was something developed with the intention of creating Heroes out of DPIs, but it got scrapped early on. That suit is the only surviving one we know about."
"Alright."
"Basically, the biggest issue with it is that it overwrites your existence, putting you a step outside of time while it retroactively changes who you used to be, until you were always The Crocodilian."
I nodded. "What happens if it finishes?" I asked.
"Well, that's the fun part. You stop existing, replaced by a version of you that was always this. You're aware of what you were before, you're aware that an entire life you lived has been replaced, and reversing it requires some time travel shenanigans."
I nodded. "So, what's the plan?" I asked.
"That depends on you. If you end up liking what you're becoming, you can opt to simply continue living like that. Otherwise, you can let people know what's going on and we can undo the superimposition."
Now that I understood what was happening, I wasn't as freaked out about it. I knew that my choices remained largely the same, and I was getting the sense that I was simply going to be born this way.
"Thank you." I said.
"Don't start thanking me yet." He said.
"No, I'm making the choice now that I'm fine with it."
"Good, as long as you're fine. That said, you will be telling me when I get back, because I will forget. Nocturne out."
I took a deep breath and stood up, and as the change completed, I couldn't help but feel glad that I'd done something so recklessly stupid.
Even moreso, just my existence alone meant more had been created, and a part of me wanted to see how many more would be created if other people got their hands on one.
​
2.
I never forgot that there had been a point where I wasn't the person I am now.
I still had the same powers, still had the same job, the difference was that I was created in a lab, rather than born.
The scientists were surprised, of course. They knew my existence meant the suit they had made had been used, and any use of it beyond that simply never happened. Nocturne fought a different crocodilian villain, someone who had deliberately mutated themselves. I learned this because I did as he asked and told him what I had done.
He wasn't happy that I'd done something so recklessly stupid, those suits were kept there specifically because nobody would ever look there, and that my actions technically counted as a containment breach since it directly led to more of the suits being made.
I did check on the people who had been my parents, their son looked like I had, but he wasn't the same, didn't have the powers I did, was straight up a DPI.
I continued working with Nocturne, he was a good mentor, a good boss, and even though that desire to see others become like me itched like nobody's business, I kept it contained, at least, until I couldn't hold back anymore.
I started a small meme, comparing Nocturne to a werewolf. Only goes out at night, never seems to be hurt for long, comparing his usual catchphrase to how they apparently howl at the full moon.
I even managed to find a video of him doing that under a full moon.
It started out slowly, mostly people cracking jokes about it being the weirdest, most random thing ever. And because it was weird, it was noticed, being shared and eventually finding its way to the Hero's Association, where it instantly became a common joke.
Nocturne didn't like it, but he kept a stoic front on it.
I brought it up once, not directly comparing him to a wolf, but asking him what he thought about it.
"I think it's a waste of everyone's time." He said dourly. "I can't think of a single reason anyone would compare me to a bloodthirsty monster."
"I don't know." I said. "Wolves are considered loyal creatures, and it's fairly popular to subvert the whole 'werewolves are evil monsters' thing." I gave a short laugh. "Besides, I think if anyone were capable of resisting a curse, it would be you."
I proceeded to tease him a little about it, but spinning my comparisons in a more favorable light, getting him to give the merest fraction of a smile before he began leaning into it.
First, it started with him at least saying that people were going to have their fun no matter what it was, and this was just the meme of the month, then going along with it when people directly mentioned it to him.
When it was time for the yearly costume review, it was suggested that he lean into it more, that there were some designs that could be added without compromising Nocturne's rigid insistence on his uniform remaining the same.
It was the only time he agreed to a change, but remained adamant that he had final say on the design and that he would personally work alongside the people working on it just to see that it was done correctly.
It felt satisfying, seeing how people reacted to this, some saying they finally got Nocturne to change up his suit and making it more badass, others saying they liked how he just went with it.
He seemed satisfied with how it all turned out, which is why I chose to bring up the QSMs.
"I'm surprised you went along with the whole wolf thing." I said.
"It grew on me." He replied. "It helps that the villains are even more frightened of me."
"Very much a benefit."
"Get me the laser attachment?" He asked.
I climbed up the stone wall and got the attachment from a high shelf. I gave a short laugh. "Before I put on the QSM, I could have never done that." I remarked. "Life's been a lot better since then."
"Yes, that time you recklessly put on villain suits not even thinking of the effect they could have on you."
"True, it was a stupidly reckless thing to do. But it worked out in the end." I paused. "The lab that created it, created me, made some others, they've got them in holding, so nobody uses them carelessly."
He looked at me. "Why bring that up?" He asked.
"Oh, sorry. Forget I said anything."
"No, I want to know why you'd share information like that." He continued.
"It's not classified, if that's your concern." I said. "In fact, the lab wanted me to advertise them, but the Association vetoed that hard."
He nodded, eyes still narrowed. I didn't bring it up again, pushing it would have made him even more suspicious.
I knew he was investigating them during his patrols, checking for anything illegal, but finding nothing wrong. So when he asked me about them, I simply told him that they were in storage behind heavy security, and that the only way one of those was getting out was if a Hero specifically requested it. "As I recall, the suits are of a tiger and a wolf, nothing too extravagant."
The way he breathed in, that slight gasp of having understood something, told me that he had finally taken the bait.
I was with him, when the lab let him trial the suit, seeing the way he smiled, as he touched his fur and moved around, indicated to me that he was enjoying himself, that he was going to keep it. As my memories shifted, changing him from just my employer to my brother, time shifting to accommodate the company starting earlier, how the number of us jumped from one to thirty, I came to a realization, one that shook me, yet nonetheless made me smile.
I had just successfully finished my first plan as a villain, and I realized I liked how it felt.
I wondered what would happen if I could convince the entire city to join us.

I wish he was dead. He's drinking tonight and hopefully tomorrow. I'm happy when he drinks because then he's not in the house but he might come over. When he drinks he gets angry and annoying and starts talking about life like what am I gonna do when I'm older and being an ass to me. He leaves my brother alone and isn't that annoying to my mum.
When he is home and not drinking I still hate him, if he's not in the mood it'll be our fault. He doesn't live with me, my mum, and my brother because when he was drunk a year or two ago, he got into a fight with my brother but I can't remember what for, and my dad strangled him. I know this because when I asked my mum why he was moving out she said that he had strangled my brother during the fight and that it had felt good.
He will probably be moving in because his rent is rising and to save money he will have to move in. He's never staying at his house unless he drinks, he keeps all his stuff there but is always at our house.
My mum knows I don't like my dad but I don't think she knows that I wish he was dead. If he was dead then I would have to worry about him coming over when he drinks and when he's in a bad mood.
He asked a few nights ago if dinner was good and to rate it out of 10, he made fish fingers, mash, and his salad. I said it was alright and rated it a 7, a 7 is a very high number and if I was telling the truth it would have been a 5 or 4, obviously because of the salad, I don't like his salads. I've got type 2 diabetes though so I don't really care about eating it because it's healthy. He then got a little moody and said if I would prefer to have that for dinner or fish and chips and obviously I said fish and chips and he had a face again. While I was walking up the stair he yelled in a sarcastic way I guess that the food he had made was healthier. I don't care that it was healthier. I don't even like fish and chips.

When I was younger I played poker to make money while in college, nothing crazy mostly 1/3NL live cash games. I was a very consistent winner, I didn't go to a casino until I had finished reading about 5-6 books and managed to make it work. It took me a bit to get back into the swing of things and now that I am, I am a loser. I know today the game has evolved much further than how it used to be and money isn't flowing from fish like it was in 2010. Does anyone have any suggestions and how I can up my game so that I can return to profitability?
Also, I assume I still can't play online while in California?

Hello everyone! To start off, I would like to thank everyone who participated in these 3 contests, whether by entering or by engaging with the posts. You all help make ACNHGifts the amazing community that it is. Now, without further ado, here are the rankings of the 3 entries for the home decor contest:

1. Redecorated bathroom by u/imjjang with 10 points
2. Home decor contest by u/dearasuka with 8 points
3. Basement bar by u/Oceanmirage0418 with 4 points

u/imjjang will receive 40 items of choice, u/dearasuka will receive 20 NMTs and 20 stacks of gold, and u/Oceanmirage0418 will receive 10 Royal Crowns, 10 stacks of fish bait, 10 stacks of bells, 10 stacks of customization kits. Congratulations, and thanks again!

Hello everyone! To start off, I would like to thank everyone who participated in these 3 contests, whether by entering or by engaging with the posts. You all help make ACNHGifts the amazing community that it is. Now, without further ado, here are the rankings of the top 3 entries for the villager appreciation contest:

1. Lolly has a soft spot in my heart by u/imjjang with 17 points
2. Obviously! by u/Nintenuenndo with 13 points
3. Namaste with Pinky by u/Oceanmirage0418 with 11 points

u/imjjang will receive 40 items of choice, u/Nintenuenndo will receive 20 NMTs and 20 stacks of gold, and u/Oceanmirage0418 will receive 10 Royal Crowns, 10 stacks of fish bait, 10 stacks of bells, 10 stacks of customization kits. If you didn't place, you'll have another chance to win in the June 2023 contests! Congratulations to the winners, and thanks again!

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

First thing you have to understand-
KEEP READING. If you've found this notebook in the lap of a soldier whose vest tag reads "Adams", vacate the area immediately. If you've found this somewhere else, you should also move to a new location. Do not move through the hallways for pain of Death. It will know. I've managed to loosen the grill covering the vent along the top of the wall. There's a pair of bolt cutters just outside the room that I'll toss inside on my way out. Use them to get into the vents. Take a thermite grenade off of Adams here along with his glowsticks and trauma kit. Take a left, a straight, then two lefts again. That should dump you out in a closet near a security booth about 40m away from the furnaces. Make no noise. Consult this book again once you get there.
Second thing you have to understand-
It thinks. It's probably smarter than you. It's been pacing the halls for hours now and Adams is gone. It likes it that way. It knows I'm alone. Sure it could break down every door and be done with it, but it's taking it's time with me. It must enjoy the desperation, enjoy sweating me out until I crack. It has to be able to sense the fear, the way it chitters outside this very office every time it does the rounds. It has to know. It probably knows where you are right now too. You might be safe, and hopefully you are. Either way, you should take the time to stop what you're doing and listen. If it works like I think it does, it's honing in right now. It makes a sort of shuffling pattern noise. Listen. Really listen. Is it there?
Third thing you have to understand-
What it is. It is the proper word to describe it, because it has no form. It depends on the person, the unlucky soul to spy it in the corner of their vision. To me, it's red with two horns, like a devil or something. To you, it could be a different color, or even some other monster entirely. Diamato said it was a bipedal fish. Aspects of it remain the same though, aspects that you would do well to remember. You cannot see it's face. not that you should be dying to make eye contact, but it literally is impossible to perceive it's face. It will appear as old-timey television static with two glowing white spheres. It has claws for hands. Big ones. Adams managed to kick it when it grabbed him, but not before it put a talon through his thigh that severed one of his arteries. I dragged him to this room as- Nevermind. Remember the claws. Remember that if you see floating television static with two lightbulbs in the middle, you'd had better be running.
Fourth thing you have to understand-
How you're going to make it out. I'm going to lead it away from this book and where you are down a level if I can. I've got everything that could possibly make a bang on my vest right now. I'll give it a big hug when I get far enough away from here. This will slow it down enough for you to make it out. If you find it to be catching, pull the pin on the thermite grenade, let the spoon fly away, and roll it out in front of you. If you're fast enough, and time it right, it should buy you the time you need to escape. Now, you are going to do exactly what I write you to do, as you read it. You will set your fear aside. You won't panic. You will, right now, summon the courage you require. You should pray if you find it helps. You will open the door, slowly, and break out into a full sprint when follows. You only have to climb nine flights. You can make it. Good luck.

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

I moved into quiet a big flat right next to a river with huge balcony, but the layout of it makes it hard to use the already existing furniture.
Behind the picture is the kitchen and dining area I'm quiet satisfied with, but the living area... I want to keep it open towards the balcony and include it more into the living space but I'm having a hard time making half the room "fit together". Especially having problems with the door to the right. I lived in a much smaller space before that made that task much easier and it didn't end up looking like a mess.
So any ideas, really open to anything...

My dad has a very short time to live. He has stage 4 lung cancers that metastasized to his ribs and his brain. He's always wanted to go fishing with me, as have I. We've never gotten this opportunity. I wanted to try to go this Saturday.
Does anybody have any advice in regards to a place that will accommodate his chair? We have a van with a lift for his chair, and he's pretty much bound to the chair so ideally I was trying to find a fishing place where it would be easily accessible for his wheelchair.
My brother is a veteran too, and mentioned cheaper fishing licenses for veterans. Is that true? because my father is a veteran as well and we don't have licenses. Any advice on where to acquire one for cheap?
Also in the market for poles and equipment. Searching OfferUp rn but I genuinely have no idea what I'm looking for. Any pointers would be great. I don't want to purchase bait for bass and then find out there are no bass spots available or it's not their season. Again, I'm totally brand new to this!!

Here's my story: My frn was dating someone online. He was 5 yrs older than her and was a captain. They spoke and had phone sex for like 2 months. He promised her he will take things forward and planned a vacation together. He mentally and emotionally made her his. She was head over heels for him and was in love with him. Then he ghosted her for like 20 days. Their last call was very lovey dovey, phone sex and I love yous'. She had no clue what had gone wrong and why he ghosted her. Also he has a habit of talking to other girls. But one fine day he deleted his online acc and telegram seen was within a month ago. She is heartbroken and cryed a river.
My part: I couldn't see her like that craving for a closure. So I did a fake acc as captain and texted her and gave her the closure she wanted and told that feelings were real. Reading all that she cryed for a while and is upset and okay she got closure.
Pls tell me about this

Interesting interview Doug Carter did with the Hammer and Nigel Show. This interview was done back in November 2022, but I thought I’d dig it up just for the sake of discussion. I’ve picked out a short piece of the conversation because I think it strikes at everything that’s been going on the past 6 plus years. Note where Doug Carter basically confirms the Wabash River search is connected to Delphi.
This is also the interview with Carters famous quote:
“This case is unlike any that I’ve seen… there are so many different tentacles. It’s very complex.” -Doug Carter, Indiana State Police Superintendent
*so many different tentacles.. it’s very complex.. *
Tentacles and complex. I can’t see how this describes one man responsible for the murders.
Richard Allen has dropped the bail hearing. Why drop the bail hearing if you are not guilty? Instead Allen’s attorneys want to discuss a Motion to Suppress. Obviously to suppress something that puts their client in a very bad light. I think it’s what led investigators to his backyard on October 13, 2022.
If I were to guess just one tentacle— I’d say it was that trail of ashes that led from that backyard in Peru, Indiana all the way to that backyard in Delphi. That’s one hell of a tentacle tying the two men in Peru, who had been planning to meet up with Libby at the bridge that day, to the little guy from Delphi that forced the girls “down the hill.”
Complex
It’s complex because it involves multiple people. One of whom has managed to fly under the radar for 6 long years. Note— always Plead the 5th
Carter says: “We’ll continue to work… work on Kegan Kline, and whatever his connectivity might be to Abby and Libby and… “ Little Freudian slip of the tongue perhaps? Was he thinking “We’ll continue to work with… ?
”We’ll continue to work… work on Kegan Kline and whatever his connectivity might be to Libby and Abby and… almost 2100 days ago. So we will continue to work towards that.”
.. whatever his connectivity might be to Libby and Abby and… their murders? Another slip perhaps? Who knows with this darling of Central Indiana’s media and his strange doppelzüngigkeit.
Excerpts from interview published by Crimelights.com:
HAMMER: Another piece of information that came out since the arrest – and this was just the last couple of days – is that maybe this guy Richard Allen has been on the radar for a long time. Did he speak to investigators? Did he speak to police in the early stages of this investigation?
DOUG CARTER: That will all come out in due time. I’m not gonna talk about Richard Allen today.
NIGEL: Yeah. There is a story on WISH-TV, our news-gathering partners, about some police ‘sources’ and some information. Did you see that yesterday?
DOUG CARTER: I did. I did.
NIGEL: You know, the search of the Wabash River they’re saying, ‘sources’ [are saying it is] linked to the Delphi investigation. Like Hammer said about, you know, Richard Allen, how long he’s been on the radar. When you see a story like this, is it… I don’t want to put words in your mouth, but is it frustrating? Especially when you see a police source confirmed this–
HAMMER: –That’s a leak from within, right?
DOUG CARTER: It is frustrating. I will say yes, it is absolutely frustrating, because we can’t talk about what we think, and I’ve said this many times before. You should expect us to only talk about what we know. And that even changes more-so once there’s a probable cause affidavit signed by a judge for the arrest of an individual… not just Richard Allen, but in any criminal case, especially a complex criminal case. This case is unlike any that I’ve seen in almost a 40 year career. So, there are so many different tentacles to this. It’s very… it’s very complex. And you know, shame on us for saying something might jeopardize that. So whoever this, quote, “source” is, I doubt very seriously that individual is a part of the core team.
NIGEL: Wow… wow.
HAMMER: The other name that’s involved in this whole story is Kegan Kline. Now, he has not been charged with anything in regards to the murders of these beautiful young ladies in Delphi. But, we know that he’s locked up for child porn. We know that he had some sort of communication with one of the ladies the day before they passed away. Has he been speaking to police? Has he been given some sort of plea deal to help police?
DOUG CARTER: We’ll continue to work… work on Kegan Kline, and whatever his connectivity might be to Abby and Libby and… almost 2100 days ago. So we will continue to work towards that.
https://crimelights.com/doug-carter-radio-interview-transcript-hammer-nigel-show-delphi-murders/