There is this ancient race called the Zeta Reticulans. They are ruled by a turbo-autistic AI with diabetes...Think The Angry Korean Gamer meets Nikocado Avocado. They are millions of years older than us but their technology is not much more advanced. They rage quit and smash everything that doesn't work. One day when visiting a new planet, they land in a park and there is a crowd of millions gathered. The drawbridge door opens and they step out. The door raises and then malfunctions, sparks flying and there's a computer glitch. They will have absolutely none of that. They turn red, grow spikes and horns and rage smash the starship. Now they're stranded. One time the autistic AI went full eggplant and unpenised all land mammals on their planet. Another time they rage quit and turned the sun into a whip and smashed 6 planets into oblivion. Sometimes shuttles will launch astronauts but there'd be a mission control glitch and they'd smash half the continent and carpet bomb the other. Now the astronauts are stuck in space. They keep smashing their progress and have been to the stone age 1,500 times.

Me(28M) and my GF (27F) have been dating for over 2 years now. A little background on us :- I am a SW engineer and make a modest salary(about 5 times what my GF makes), my GF was in University until 6 months ago. After she graduated I got her a job in her field through a friend of mine, she gets about 2 times the salary a normal fresh graduate with no experience gets. She lives at home with her parents and doesnt have to pay for anything(rent, food, bill) so her entire salary is for herself. I on the other hand support my mom and 2 siblings, I pay for 2 cars(Mine and my moms), for groceries and other bills at home but still have enough left from my salary to save and to also spend on us(me and my gf).
In the 2 years that we have been dating I have paid for all our dates(movies, food, parking, vacation stays, etc.) and she has almost never paid for anything. This was fine by me because when we started dating she was a university student with no job and not much disposable cash. Even after she started on her job I still kept paying for everything as she wanted to save up her salary for an exam that is required for her career. She has since saved the required amount for the exam.
We recently got talking about how we would be managing our finances when we got married and she said that "both what we earn is OUR money that we should spend to make our future grow WHEN WE GET MARRIED". The operating words here being when we get married not before. So I asked her why it is only when we get married and not when we are in a relationship. She has no proper answer to that except "Thats just the way I am".
Her view is that during our relationship I should spend for everything because thats what her dad did for her mom while they were dating. I said they dated in the late 80s and the world has changed since then. I asked does she think its fair that I spend thousands and thousands of my money while she does nothing. This might be my bad - I also asked her whether "she didnt feel ashamed or have any guilt to just let me pay for everything". We had a fight due to this and now she thinks I am a greedy a**hole who just keeps tabs on all the money I spent on our relationship and that I should find a gf who is willing to pay when they go out.
Some extra information:

• The problem for me is not the money but her attitude that I should pay for everything
• I never asked her to pay 50/50. Just contribute a little I understand she doesnt make the same amount as me. Even volunteering to pay would be enough( for me its the thought that counts)
• While she has not spent on any of our dates she has spent money on gifts for special occasions like birthdays.

Am I the one who is wrong in expecting her to contribute for our relationship?
Obviously there is more to the story but this is the main jist of it. Will provide more info if required.

​
Griger Kel-Am watched from his cell in the old town jailhouse as workers busily erected a scaffolding in the courtyard below. It was shaping up nicely, he thought with an appreciative nod; the skeletal beams reminded him of the bones of dead animals in the Karel Desert and that comparison almost disturbed him.
Which was no easy feat. Griger had seen the worst the world had to offer. He fought beasts in the Staygin Mountains, fended off feral bandits in the Jarel Plains, and weathered more attacks, fights, battles, and death than most people even knew existed. Nothing on earth could rattle him. He couldn’t afford to let himself be shaken. Life, he had learned, was like a surging storm tide. You either stand strong against it, or you get knocked down and swept away. Griger refused to be swept away. He refused to wind up like the old bones he stumbled across on the North Road and in the snowy stepps at the top of the world. A man must be hard and stoic to survive, and he must be harder and colder to thrive.
Despite his grizzled face, many scars, dead eyes, and unseemly facial hair, Griger, a sword for hire since before the Great Plague, had always thrived.
Sighing, Griger left the window and walked over to the door; three brisk paces. He threaded his arms through the bars and tried his best to look up the corridor. In the cells across from him, other men, their faces dirty and white, cowered, waiting for their judgement.
Their open fear disgusted Griger.
Cowards.
Griger wasn’t afraid to die. Dying was easy; you closed your eyes and went to sleep. Living...living was hard, every day a knock down, drag out fight for dominance against something. Outlaws, nature, your own inner darkness. He did not seek death, but he welcomed it. The prospect of a noose tightening around his neck, of his body jerking and dancing before many jeering eyes and spitting mouths, however, almost bothered him.
But as a wise old man he once knew had said, This too shall pass.
A sardonic smile touched Griger’s chapped lips and he shook his head like a man who couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Of all the things he’d done in his life to deserve a hanging, self-defense is what did him in. Ha.
Two weeks ago, he was following the river from the North, on foot and alone save for his sword and his rucksack. He stopped at a tide pool to drink, and was beset by a man with a knife. In his frock coat and rubberized boots, he was too well dressed to be a highwayman; he never spoke a word until he lay in the grass, his throat laid open and gushing rich red blood. “Scoundrel,” he gurgled.
Griger relieved him of his boots and pocketbook and carried on. Before dusk, he came across the village and rented a room at the inn. Women in cheap, homespun dresses haunted the halls, knocking at doors to sell their company, and Griger, lying in bed by the flickering light of a lamp, was considering spending the rest of the money on one when three constables broke down the door.
The man he killed, they told him later, was the son of the mayor. At that moment, Griger knew he was in trouble.
They refused to believe that the son attacked first and pointed to the things Griger had taken from his as proof of overland piracy, theft, and murder. He was tried in a packed courtroom and found guilty, standing tall and proud but alone as no lawyer in the land would take his case.
Out in the courtyard, someone shouted, and a team of horses neighed, Griger, sitting on the edge of his cot, looked up at the window. The light was getting weaker as night approached. Shadows, long and black, fell through the slats and made unwholesome shapes across the earthen floor. Down the hall, a man cried out for water, and elsewhere, someone raked a metal cup back and forth across the bars. Would they hang him tonight, Griger wondered, or would they wait for dawn?
“You,” someone spat.
Griger looked up to find the mayor standing at the bars, his bloated face filled with hatred. Another man was with him, this one taller and thinner. They were both clad in the finest garments, but the stranger was undoubtedly better suited. Griger took him for a government official.
“What do you want?” Griger asked, an edge in his voice.
The mayor opened his mouth to speak, but the stranger silenced him. “My name is Urick Farbin. I’m the governor of Ezk Province and I have a proposition for you.”
“What’s that?”
Farbin flashed a tight smile.
It looked to Griger like he wouldn’t be hanged at all.
And that made him smile.
***
Griger watched the countryside pass slowly by, all green hills, trickling brooks, and dense thickets. The occasional straw hut loomed out of the wilderness like an antsy thief, and six miles out of the village, they passed a stately manor house that could only have belonged to the mayor.
It was mid-afternoon and the overcast day wrapped itself around Griger like a wet blanket. The previous night, Governor Farbin sprang Griger from his cell and brought him to the inn, where he was kept under armed guard. Griger spent most of the evening in a straight back chair and whittling. You don’t have to worry, he said to the sentry standing at the door, I’m not going anywhere.
And he wasn’t. He was not an honor bound man by any stretch, but Farbin saved his life, and Griger reckoned that earned him a little loyalty.
The guards didn’t stand down, but Griger didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t have either.
In the morning, they set off in a horse drawn carriage, heading northwest along the Western Road. Now, hours later, Griger sat next to the Governor, who wore a dark cloak and wide-brimmed hat befitting his office. Beside him, the driver held the reins and stared ahead with the practiced indifference of a man used to tuning out things he wasn’t supposed to hear.
“Will you explain to me what I’m doing?” Griger asked.
Farbin was quiet for a moment, then he looked up at the sky, the muted light bathing his craggy features. “Your file says that you’ve done work for the Government.”
“Some,” Griger replied.
“You’ve handled things of a singular nature,” the old man continued. “Things that most other men have never dreamed possible.”
Gringer nodded. He had. His only oath was to himself, and he worked for whoever paid him the highest sum. Men like him were called mercenaries but he preferred to think of himself as a businessman.
“There’s a matter in a nearby village that has been ongoing for quite some time,” Farbin said, picking his words carefully. “I have sent my best agents and they’ve done nothing for it. When the paperwork on you came to my office, I checked your name, as I do all condemned men, and knew at once that you were the man for this job.”
Griger was almost touched. “What’s the job?”
The Governor turned to face Griger, his expression bloodless and sober, as though he had something great yet terrible to impart upon him. “Do you believe in werewolves?”
“Yes,” he said, “I do.”
“Have you ever killed one?”
Griger hesitated. “No,” he said, “not personally, but I was with a party that did.”
Five years before, Griger wintered in a village among the steep foothills guarding the forbidding expanse of Mount Grez. In the deepest, darkest days of the freeze, local livestock began to die, ripped asunder and strewn across snowy fields like trash. Wolf tracks larger than any Griger had ever seen led to and from each scene, and at night, high, ghostly howls rose above the shrieking wind, curdling the blood of even the most sturdy men.
After a watchman on patrol was attacked and gutted in the main square, the men of the village banded together and tracked the beast, eventually cornering it in a cave near a frozen river. Even if he lived to be a thousand, Griger would never forget the monster they encountered. Seven feet tall, coated in matted gray fur, its face canine yet human, its eyes blazed with the fires of hell, and as the men approached, it snapped and snarled, the sounds it made so close to words that even now, Griger wondered if it were trying to speak. They beset it with swords and torches, and when the dust settled, five men were dead and three were wounded. The wolf lay crumpled on the ground, decapitated and aflame. Even with no head, even with its heart divorced from its body, it screeched as the fire consumed it, a high, hitching wail that haunted Griger’s dreams for many moons after.
Farbin nodded. “I figured as much. A man as well-travelled as you has to have seen such things.”
He went on to explain that a suspected werewolf was loose in the countryside around the village of Koreth, a tiny fishing port on the sloped and muddy banks of the Rey River. Three weeks before, sheep and horses began to turn up dead, their bodies laid open and their intestines pulled from their stomachs. Before long, travellers along the Western Road started to die in a similar manner. Every time a new victim appeared, officials found large wolf tracks and strands of fur nearby.
Several nights ago, it broke into the home of a land baron and killed him, his wife, and his daughter. His young son survived, but was blinded in one eye.
‘It was a massive beast,’ the boy told the Governor, a personal friend of the baron. ‘It stood seven feet tall, was as wide as it was long, and had the snarling face of a man mixed with a dog.’
“You want me to kill it,” Griger said. It was not a question.
“Yes.”
The carriage jostled as its big wheels splashed through ruts and puddles. “And in return…?”
“You’ll get a full and unconditional pardon.”
Hmm. Griger considered the offer carefully, even though he was in no position to bargain. “Alright,” he said at last, “I’ll do it.”
They arrived at the village three hours later. Perched on the banks of the lazy river, it seemed a single estate rather than a town. A stone wall, roughly a dozen feet high, enclosed it, pitched roofs visible beyond. Two guards in helmets and chainmail, swords on their hips and crossbows in their hands, stood at the gate, their expressions stony and as hardscrabble as the fields sloping away from the walls.
Inside, tiny buildings lined narrow dirt streets and people in plain, homespun clothes went about their business, pushing carts, hawking vegetables, and playing dice. Old men sat in canned chairs before the town pub and a group of boys chased each other back and forth through shadowed warrens, their faces smudged and weatherbeaten beyond their years. Chickens and pigs, both plump and hale, ran free, the former flapping their impotent wings and the latter snorting happily as they wallowed and shat. Griger spotted a blacksmith in his quarters, striking an anvil with a hammer, and wondered idly if he had any interesting items for sale.
“The people here are stubborn and refuse to flee,” Farbin said.
Griger faced forward. “These types usually are.”
“You are not to worry about their safety,” Farbin warned. “They can see to themselves. Your only concern is to be the wolf.”
“Understood.”
The driver parked near the town inn and tied the horse to a hitching post while Griger and Farbin got out. Griger rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. After so many years of walking wherever he went, he was unaccustomed to sitting for long periods and inevitably ended any long, stationary trek sore.
Past the batwing doors, a shadowy lobby lit by candlelight greeted them. Farbin led Griger directly up the stairs and to a tidy room with a single, neatly made bed and a desk beneath the window. “These are your quarters,” Farbin said.
“Spacious,” Griger said unsarcastically. He sat on the edge of the bed. “What leads do you have on this wolf?”
“None beyond what I’ve told you,” Farbn said. “My men have scoured the countryside but they haven’t found a thing.”
Griger hummed. “No tracks? Droppings? Nothing at all?”
“Not beyond what I’ve told you.”
That was odd. Werewolves rarely strayed far from their den. Unless they were of the rare half-breed that turned upon the cycle of the moon, man at day and beast by night. But those were as common as an honest man in the High Council - not very damned common at all.
“What are you thinking?” Farbin asked.
Griger said what was on his mind.
“But those aren’t real,” the Governor said, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“I tell you they are.”
Farbin’s brow furrowed with incredulity. “A man cannot simply change his form, nor can a wolf, for that matter. It goes against all logic.”
All Griger could do was spread his hands. That a man - even a large one - could transform into a werewolf (and that a werewolf could shrink back to the size of a mere man) did defy logic. Griger could not account for it, but he knew it to be so, and he said as much. Farbin, shaken by the confidence in Griger’s tone, nervously scratched the back of his neck and looked constipated. “Put aside what you think you know and ask yourself. What if it is a wolf-man?”
“But what if it isn’t?” Farbin countered.
Griger ticked his head to the side in acquiescence. “Maybe it’s not. Maybe your men have failed to uncover a den large enough to house a seven foot tall monster. Maybe they’ve been looking up each other’s backsides instead of where they should be.”
A dark shadow flickered across Farbin’s face. “My men are highly trained and highly skilled.”
“That’s why you came to me.”
Farbin fumed. “I came to you because you have experience in such things.”
“Right,” Griger said. “I do. And I’m telling you - in my expert opinion - that if there is no den, the wolf is a changeling. I cannot explain the science behind how and why it is a changeling. I don’t know how it can happen...but it does. You have to consider the possibility that you are looking for a phantom, that your wolf may be out there right this second ploughing a field or herding sheep and not asleep in a cave waiting to be found and made.”
Farbin turned away and put his hands on his hips. No shoulder had ever been colder, and for a second, Griger thought the old man was going to send him back to the gallows. “Alright,” Farbin finally said, “suppose it is a half-breed. What then?”
“I want to see where the latest attack happened.”
A half an hour later, Griger and Farbin stood before a large stone house with a slate roof and wide windows. A dirt drive looped around an ornate fountain and tall trees rustled in the new breeze. Several Provincial Guardsmen accompanied them, all with swords and crossbows and one, the commander, with a rare flintlock on his hip. Farbin led Gringer to the west side of the structure. “The wolf came in through the servants’ entrance,” he explained. A set of paw prints led to the door and Gringer knelt to study them. Roughly half a foot apart, they were slightly larger than any other he had seen.
Inside, the house was dark and cold, shadows clustered in corners like demons waiting for the fall of night to advance their ghoulish aims. Dried blood stained the wooden floors and spackled the bare walls. “Has anyone seen this creature and lived but the boy?”
Farbin shook his head. “No.” His face was white and strained, the somber, funeral atmosphere affecting him.
“You’ve told me everything?”
“Yes.”
Griger nodded to himself. If the wolf were a changeling, someone, somewhere likely would have seen it coming or going. That was a strike against his theory. On the other hand, there were likely dozens of isolated farms and homesteads scattered through the surrounding countryside. The wolf could be anyone from anywhere.
“I want to talk to the locals,” Griger said as he and Farbin walked back to the carriage.
“Right.”
“I’ll also need a team of men at my disposal,” Griger said. “And a sword.”
They were sitting across from each other in the carriage’s enclosed cab. Without, the sky was beginning to cool to purple and evening gloom stealthy crept from the forest. “We’ll get you one.”
“It must be made with silver,” Griger said.
Farbin frowned. “Silver is a poor alloy for sword-making.”
“But it’s the only alloy for werewolf killing,” Griger said. “It shouldn’t be made entirely of silver, but there must be some in it, the more, the better.
Farbin nodded that he understood.
By the time they made it back to the village, full dark had fallen. The streets stood deserted, the animals locked up for the night and most of the people hunkered in their homes. A few guards walked the lanes and dooyards, bows and swords at the ready, and a stray cat with no tail slunk furtively between piles of refuse, its ears laid flat against its skull and its fur matted and crisscrossed with scars from battles past.
The only activity was at the pub attached to the inn, where lights burned in the segmented windows and the chatter of many voices drifted into the street, occasionally flaring in laughter or song. Apparently, those hearty souls refused to let a wolf stand between them and their end-of-day festivities.
Griger’s respect for them increased.
Before entering, Farbin and Griger called on the blacksmith, a burly man with a bald head and a mustache that reminded Griger of walruses he had killed and eaten at the top of the world. Griger explained his need and impressed upon the man a sense of urgency. “I need it as soon as you can possibly have it ready.”
The blacksmith nodded gamely. “I’ll have it by dawn.”
Farbin took out his purse and paid, then they made their way to the inn.
Inside, a roaring fire crackled in the stone hearth and lamps on the walls sent shadows flickering across the floor. A dozen men sat at the bar with stines of beer and a half dozen more occupied the many tables in the middle of the room. A barkeep kept the drinks flowing while a pretty waitress with her blonde hair done up in an elaborate braid like a golden tiara brought trays of beer and pretzels to the tables.
Griger and Farbin sat at an empty table near the fireplace and Farbin removed his gloves. “Men will make merry even while the world burns around them,” he mused.
“Why not,” Griger said, “they can’t do it in the grave.”
The women came over and they ordered a pitcher of beer and a sandwich each. While they waited, Griger went to every man one-by-one and asked them about the wolf. They responded, to a man, with an eye roll or a dismissive laugh. None were worried in the slightest. One man lifted his brow in a pitying sort of way and looked Griger up and down as though he were mad. “Werewolves? Why, those were banished from the Realm centuries ago, it’s all much ado about nothing.”
“It’s a big wolf,” the barkeep said, “and dangerous too, that much is fact. But it’s a lot of hysteria. People today are too goddamn soft. In my time, we had wolves and bears too. If they acted out of line, we hunted them down and cut their heads off.”
The last man Griger came to was a wispy, white-haired oldster with rheumy eyes and three days’ worth of stubble covering his angular chin. Baggy brown clothes, old and wrinkled and caked in the dirt of the field, hung slack from his scrawny frame, and his long, spindly fingers threaded through the handle of his mug like fleshless bone. If Griger had ever seen a man who bore the official title “Town Drunk” he wouldn’t look the part any more than the old man.
Before Griger could ask him a single question, he spoke in a rusty voice that conjured images of graveyard gates in the dark Province of Helem. “I seen it,” he said, “and it weren’t no regular wolf neither.”
The barkeep sniffed. “You see lots of things, Sel. Like them little pink elephants.”
A wave of mean-spirited laughter ran through the bar, and Sel’s jaw clenched. Griger sensed that Sel was often made sport of at the bar.
Ignoring the other, Griger asked, “You’ve seen it?”
Sel nodded and held up three fingers. “Thrice, in fact,” he said with a belch.
“Tell me.”
The old timer looked up at him with a twist of suspicion. “Down by the road leadin’ up,” he said.
“All three times?”
“All three times,” Sel confirmed.
Once a mason, Sel had moved to the village ten years before to try his hand at farming, he explained. His homestead, comprising five acres, a tumbledown barn, and a decomposing shack masquerading as a house, sat below the walls, in a hollow between the hill and the river. Many nights, he sat on the front porch and “communed with the King” (King Rum, Griger assumed). From that perch, he witnessed “The damned beast” loping toward town. “The first time, I seen’t it over in the road,” he said, pronouncing road as rud. “I have good eyesight and I knew right off it weren’t normal, so I jumped outta my chair and ducked down real low so ways he couldn’t see me.”
Sel couldn’t provide a description of the wolf beyond “near eight damn feet tall and built like a mountain” but Griger didn’t need one. The old man’s story supported his supposition that the wolf was coming from somewhere else and not a den in the hills. Why would it come down the middle of the road each time? The only thing to the south was the river and open fields dotted by stands of forest, all of which Farbin’s men had already searched.
Werewolves are nocturnal creatures who sequester themselves somewhere dark and dry during the day. Farbin’s men should have found it by now. That they hadn’t suggested that it was a changeling.
Thanking Sel for his help, Griger went back to the table and sat across from Farbin. “The baron’s house lies in the direction of the river,” he said, more to himself than to the Governor. “What of the other attacks?”
“Mainly in that area,” Farbin said, “why?”
“The changeling - and that’s what it is - comes from across the river. How many homesteads are there beyond the banks?”
“At least two dozen,” Farbin said.
Griger crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “I want your men, tomorrow, out there going door to door with garlic. Make everyone they come across smell it and anyone who sneezes is put under watch.”
The Governor looked stricken. “But...why?”
“Changelings are allergic to garlic,” Griger said.
Farbin pursed his lips in contemplation. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll have them start at first light.”
After dining, they adjourned to their rooms, Farbin on one side of the hall and Griger on the other. A team of six Guardsmen took up position in the empty saloon and kept watch, ready to roll out at a moment’s notice. Griger threw the window open and perched on the ledge, the night breeze washing over him and rustling his graying hair. He rolled a cigarette, lit it with the bedside candle, and looked up at the glowing face of the waxing moon. Tomorrow night it would be full and the changeling would be compelled to turn and hunt as the tide was compelled to crest. It could come tonight still, but unless it was killed, it would return tomorrow for certain, mad with bloodlust.
Well past midnight, Griger blew out the candle and retired. The mattress was far too soft and it took him nearly a half hour of tossing, turning, and muttering curses to himself to find a position he liked. Once he did, he fell into a light sleep from which he was aroused near dawn by a knock at the door. One of the guards informed him that the blacksmith was finished with his sword, and after dressing, he and Farbin went to collect it. Comprising a simple blade with a guard and a grip, it was far from the most opulent weapon Griger had ever wielded, but it was well-suited to his needs and fit comfortably in his hand.
Back at the inn, Farbin gathered every available man under his command, including the constable and his three deputies, and ordered them to sweep the countryside as Griger had suggested the night before. They showed no reaction despite their lord’s strange request, and departed in a single file line.
The saloon opened for breakfast at six and Griger and Farbin each had a plate of eggs, bacon, and beans. People began to drift in as they ate, Sel the Drunkard at the head of the pack. The maiden, who quartered somewhere upstairs, came down in a simple white dress beneath a waist apron, and Griger’s eyes tracked her as she carried out her functions. The dress - loose and high cut - revealed nothing of her bosom, but pulled tight across her bottom when she leaned over to set food and coffee in front of her guests. Their gazes met, and her eyes flicked quickly away like two timid minnows in a fish bowl.
She was beautiful.
She reminded him of someone.
His mind went back to the jagged mountains atop the world, to a little cabin where weary travellers waited out the snowstorms that raged sometimes for weeks in the winter. There, in one of the most isolated outposts of the Realm, lived a woman Griger had known. She was tall and gaunt whereas the barmaid was average and healthy, her hair was black to the maiden’s blonde, but their eyes were the same breathtaking hazel. Now, staring at his plate, his chest stirred in a way that it hadn’t in years.
He didn’t like it.
“...else,” Farbin was saying.
“Yeah,” Griger said, as though he knew what Farbin had said. Now, the woman he loved one winter was on his mind and his mood was verging on foul. He recalled the way her hair brushed the creamy slope of her throat when she turned her head, the sound of her laughter, how her heels dug into his behind, urging him deeper unto her.
He was young, then, and a fool. People, he learned later, come and people go. Loving someone...indeed even hating them...was pointless, for in a breath of summer wind, they’re gone.
After finishing with breakfast, Farbin requested a metal tub be filled with water so that he could bathe. While he did that, Griger threaded his sword through his belt and walked down to the river, keeping his eyes open for wolf tracks. He spotted a few in the dirt edging the road, all pointing in the direction from which he had just come, and squatted down to examine one more closely.
Just before reaching the water, Sel’s farm appeared on the right, the main house seeming to sag in the middle as though under the burden of years and the field out back overgrown and gone to seed. The place looked as though it had died, come back to life, then died again. The screen door, which naturally hung askew, banged open, and Sel himself backed out butt first, a ceramic pot in his hands. He turned, saw Griger, and hesitated, then ducked his head and scurried down the stairs, disappearing around the side of the house Griger lingered a moment, then followed, tangles of grass pulling at his boots. In the back, a clear patch boasted several pots like the one Sel had come out with, each blossoming with an assortment of multicolored flowers. Sel knelt before one and heaped rich soil in with his hands. A gust of wind flipped his lank, white hair back and forth, and a satisfied smile played at the corners of his thin mouth.
“You garden?” Griger asked.
Sel shot him a dirty look. “I do,” he said, a defensive edge in his voice. He stopped, favored the flowers with a sober look, and added, “These plants are the only friends I’ve got.” He chuckled self-consciously.
“Plants seem like they’d make poor friends,” Griger said. “When the first frost comes, they leave you.”
Sel ticked his head to one side in acquiescence. “Tis better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.”
An image of the girl at the top of the world flashed across Griger’s mind, and for a moment he could feel, feel, her presence. “I don’t believe that,” Griger said. “Loss is hard for a man who’s known love.”
“Still better than never knowing it at all,” Sel said and got stiffly to his feet. He dusted his hands on his pants.
“You’ve never lost someone,” Griger said.
“You’ve never loved someone,” Sel countered.
Griger stiffened. Mouthy old bastard, yes I have.
“What do you want?” Sel asked.
“I wanted to ask you about the werewolf.”
Sel’s face crinkled. “I told you everything I know.” He started walking back to the front of the house, and Griger fell in beside him.
“Is there anywhere around here you think a werewolf might live?” Griger asked. “Caves? Dens? Anything.”
“There’s some caves about,” Sel said, “other than that, I can’t say.”
They were on the porch now, Sel holding the door open.
“Can you tell me your story one more time?” Griger asked. “Maybe it might jog something you forgot.”
Sel sighed. “I don’t have nothin’, okay?”
He started to go inside, but Griger stopped him. “Please?”
The old man looked at him, then sighed. “Fine. Come in.”
They sat in Sel’s tiny and cluttered parlor. The furniture was as old and threadbare as the man who owned it, and the simple walls were crowded with old photos, many of them featuring a smiling woman with dark hair. She looked nothing like the girl at the top of the world, but Griger was reminded of her anyway. “Your wife?” he asked.
Sel, seated in an armchair across from him, busied himself pouring Griger a cup of tea. “Yes,” he said shortly.
From his tone - and the woman’s absence - Griger inferred that she was dead. “I’m sorry.”
Sel’s hand shook as he pushed the cup across the table. “So am I,” he said.
“Children?” Griger asked.
“Three,” Sel said. “Two boys and a girl.” Tears crept into the old man’s faded eyes and he fixed his gaze on a point over Griger’s shoulder. Open displays of emotion made Griger uncomfortable, and he shifted in his seat, sorry that he had brought the topic up. “We were married thirty years,” Sel said. His lips trembled and Griger thought he was going to break down crying. Instead, he smiled. “Those were good years.”
Griger nodded to himself. “I bet.”
He must not have sounded convincing, because Sel creased his brow. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Ever loved someone?”
“No.”
Sel looked at him with a frank directness that bordered on mind-reading, and though it wasn’t possible, Griger could almost imagine the old man was seeing into his mind...and his heart. “You’re a liar.”
Griger considered his reply for a long time. “When I was a boy,” he said. “I thought I was in love.”
“What happened?”
Perhaps the old man had cast some kind of pall over him...or maybe he was in a rare mood...but Griger heard himself answer honestly. “I left her.”
A heavy silence lay between them.
“You left her?”
Griger nodded. “I moved on. She had her ways and I had mine. I didn’t see us working.”
“You regret it.”
“Yes,” Griger responded instantly. “I wish I tried.”
Sel nodded understandingly. “All boys make mistakes. Some are just luckier than others, I reckon.” He laughed, his posture relaxing, and Griger realized he was starting to like the old bastard.
“True,” he said. “Now your story…”
Sighing, Sel lifted a hand. “I don’t have much ways else to say.” He ran through his story just as he had before, with no additions or subtractions.
Griger nodded that he was satisfied, and got to his feet. “That’ll be all.”
Sel walked him to the door and stuck out his hand. “That damned thing’s a monster,” he said as they shook, “you watch yourself.”
“I can handle a werewolf,” Griger assured him.
Later on, after returning to the inn, Griger and Farbin rode out to meet the men on the other side of the river, catching up to them at a fork in the road. “No one’s sneezed or broken out, sire,” Farbin’s second-in-command, a tall, rodent-faced man, reported.
“Expand the dragnet,” Griger said.
Rat-face looked at Farbin for confirmation, and the Governor nodded.
They would find the wolf...or the wolf would find them.
Griger wanted the former, but would settle for the latter.
If he had to.

Minor edit: I would actually change the title to something less hyperbolic reflecting on this. I feel privileged to live in a free country so no it’s far from the worst place on Earth but the following reasons have caused major challenges in my experience here.
Living in NYC sucks. If you grew up in the suburbs your whole life and think it sucks and want to “experience” the city think twice and don’t because you’re going to appreciate what you had before you left for this shithole. I had a big house with a pool, dishwasher, laundry, driveway and I left it for a tiny apartment surrounded by housing projects and no greenery. It smells terrible, looks depressing, and the apartments are basically closets with no amenities. Food choices are great until you gain a bunch of weight because the food is so unhealthy. Sure you can try cooking in your kitchen thats too small to even stand in comfortably never mind spend time cooking a meal and having to wash everything by hand. Groceries are so expensive that you may as well grab bodega food. And forget going to the grocery store in person anyway because the lines are crazy with only one cashier and again, you are limited to what you can comfortably carry because you are not allowed to take any type of carts outside the store because of course people will steal them. Even if you have a car like I do good luck getting parking close enough to even bother.
I think that’s not even the worst part. Those things are slight inconveniences compared to dealing with the types of people who live here. When I moved here I thought I would be surrounded by diverse accepting people. Boy was I wrong. NYC is more segregated and racist than my cozy NJ suburb was. Forget trying to make friends outside of your ethnic or religious group because they want nothing to do with anyone outside of their community. And they will make it very clear to you that you are not welcome. This goes for all groups. People are mostly miserable, antisocial and project their hostility onto others. Don’t even try to say hello to the cashier or ask for assistance in a store. You will be met with aggression. If it’s not on the shelf do yourself a favor and go home and order it online rather than dealing with them.
And to be clear, I work in retail myself so I’m not being intentionally disparaging. Makeup artistry was a bust for the above reasons, it’s hard to get bookings because it’s over saturated and again you will be limited to your ethnic group. So that investment went down the drain so I enrolled back to get my degree while working cosmetic sales in retail. If you take a job working with the public here prepare for extreme verbal and even physical abuse multiple times a day. People will throw things at you, insult you simply because you’re out of stock or something or that it took you too long to ask them if they needed help. You will greet them and they’ll not even acknowledge you but if you don’t greet them they’ll scream like a hyena and complain. They’re so impatient they can’t even wait in line to pay without screaming there needs to be another register open. Ironically their shitty behavior is why nobody wants to do these jobs, leading to having one register open in a large city. Plus you have extreme amounts of criminal theft because nobody gets charged for it and if they do they’re let out the next day no bail.
After almost four years here I’ve become a shell of my former self, I hate the world and the people in it. I’ve increasingly self isolated and don’t leave my apartment besides work at this point. There maybe was a short time I enjoyed things here but I could have totally accomplished those things living one state over and coming in for short visits. My stress levels and anxiety are so severe I cry almost every day. I’m begging my fiancé at this point to move back because I can’t take it anymore. We are High school sweethearts and moved here so he can make way more money and I truly want to support his career. I acknowledge moving back home will bring major challenges to him with getting to work at this time so I’m actually considering moving back to my parents house without him at this point. It’s really that serious. The alternative is to quit my job and just become a hermit because I hate stepping outside my door. The cherry on top was ordering delivery and watching the poor hardworking immigrant gentleman get robbed at knifepoint on my buzzer camera as I felt guilty and helpless. The cops came but the criminal probably never got caught. I gave the poor man my last $20 in my wallet and I know it wasn’t my fault but if I got off my depressed ass and picked up my own food it wouldn’t have happened.
I feel thankful to own a car because I would have broken down a long time ago if I had to take MTA. The last time I was on it a few months ago a man with oozing open sores started smoking crack in the train car. But even a car doesn’t protect you from the crazy people on the street. Careful opening your windows all the way because I’ve had people reach in my car demanding money. A man damaged my mirror because I wouldn’t give him anything. Another man j walked in front of my car and I tried to stop as fast as I could for him to pound on my mirror and threaten to kill me, forcing me to go through a red light. Oh and my perfectly clean Honda civic has gotten hit so many times parked on the street it looks almost totaled. I mean at least it wasn’t a particularly nice car but I worked my ass off to pay for it for it to be destroyed by people who have no regards for others property.
If you made it this far, all I will say is don’t move here unless you want to become the hateful person I have. All this ranting I’ve done about how bad the residents here are but I feel myself becoming just like them. Anyone who says they like it here is just lying to themselves or lives in a segregated yuppie neighborhood. I view living here like an abusive relationship. Sure you can make a lot more money but at the expense of your mental well being.

Hi! So it was about 12:30 a.m. when this happened I was going to my local gas station to grab some food. And there's a cop on this back road and his lights were on, I didn't know what was going on I couldn't see anybody and I didn't want to risk accidentally hitting anybody let alone a cop so I made sure there's nobody around It was a dead of night. I went a little bit out of the lane to give the cop some room in case anything was going on and went back into my lane when I was clear. then a car turned down to the road and was following me and then the cop car turned its lights off and started following us. I then made a left to go into the gas station and then the car and the cop car followed and so I took a very specific route cutting through a restaurant parking lot to get there instead of the normal entrance and both the car and the cop car followed me. So now I'm starting to get concerned And then I finally parked and the car that was behind me parked next to me. Then the cop car parked behind my car and I was boxed in so I didn't know if he was trying to trap me or anything and just sat there for a minute and then just left so I don't know what the hell happened but I was shaking. TLDR: tried to make room for cop, cop followed me and a random car and parked behind me and boxed my car in for a min and then left

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So, my family went to the carnival last Sunday and had a great time riding everything and seeing the animals. We left a bit before 11 pm and the path to the parking lot had a few bunched groups but was not crowded. I was talking to my 8yo daughter and 11yo niece when I was struck on my lower spine with what I thought was a rock. Upon turning around, I was surprised to realize I had been pickled. Some ahole had pegged me in the back with a half eaten giant pickle. I didn't know whether to laugh or expect to be assaulted further by snack foods. We made it safely to the car without further incident. PSA:stay on alert for flying pickles.

So my birthday was on the 15th and I decided to spend the morning with my father and then have dinner with my mom. We were going to go to hibachi but my mom decided that it was getting late and she was tired because she had been working for 2 weeks straight while her boss was outta town and we would just go on the 16th. But my sister was planning to have her birthday party on the 16th and had been taking about it all week (Her birthday was on the 1st but her party kept getting pushed back.) So she got in to a screaming match with my mom and my mom got in her car and drove away. Then a little over an hour later my mom calls my sister to see if we wanted to get some food (I forgot to mention this earlier but my 2 cousins were with us.) So we decided to go to taco bell so we all get in the car and there's a bottle of rum in the back seat. I didn't think much of it because she normally has liquor in her car but as we drove it was more and more apparent that she was drunk. She was swerving and moving out for her lane literally falling asleep at the wheel my sister who was in the front seat had to keep telling my mom to pay attention. We got to the taco bell my mom pulled in to the parking lot we were supposed to go through the drive through but my mom was so out of it she had no idea what we were talking about. So my sister put my mom in the passenger seat and said she was going to drive. (My sister is 17 and doesn't have her license or permanent but she does have her driver's test soon so she has a rough idea.) At this point I'm in tears and just want to go home but my mom insisted we get food and as we were in the drive through my mom trys to get out of the car and my sister has to pull her back in. So we get our food and go home go straight to the bathroom to cry but my mom noticed and followed me in to the bathroom asking me what's wrong kept trying to walk away but she couldn't fathom that I was trying to get away from her. So I go in to the hallway and basically hid behind my sister. (As im writing this my heart goes out to my sister because I realize how much she really does for me and she is much stronger than I.) So my sister takes my mom to her room and starts to yell at her I go to the living room with my cousins. A few minutes later my mom comes in to the living room to talk to me and she tells me she took some sleeping medicine before she left and I was just like OK because I was done talking to her cause she was obviously lying so she go's to bed. My cousin rolls a blunt we smoke while high i spill my guts and admit that I have nightmares of being at my sisters funeral and. In the morning I pretend that I forgot what happened so I don't have to talk about it.

Hi everyone, need some advice on whether I could've handled a situation better.
I have a 9 year old German Shepherd, Kara. We rescued her when she was 3. She's a little skittish, but never aggressive towards people. She's my big goofy teddy bear.
Kara gets along with her three kitties at home. While she had lived with a couple dogs when I was with my ex boyfriend, she hasn't really had too many interactions with other dogs the last couple of years. Kara is great 99.99% of the time, except for when there's food involved. She has nipped our other dog before when they tried to get her food. It wasn't serious, thankfully. Because of this incident, I'm particularly careful when we go outside. Even though she hasn't shown aggression beyond food, when we go on walk, she's always leashed. If we see other dogs, we will go the long way to avoid them.
Fast forward to today. We are on our nightly walk in our community when we saw a little french bulldog, unleashed, about 100 ft in front of us. I immediately turned around. Kara was alerted, but she didn't react much. As soon as we started walking away, that little dog went crazy and started chasing us. He was barking, circling, and getting into Kara's face. His owner - oh my god this makes me so angry - she was on her phone the whole time. She made some effort trying to get her dog, but the little monster was so fast she couldn't catch him. My dad and my brother tried to get him away from Kara and I but the dog just kept circling back and forth. It was so hectic... We told her to leash the dog up, and she was like "BUT HE'S JUST A PUPPY!". A couple times he did manage to get into Kara's face so she tried to get at him too. I was able to control her though, since she does listen to us pretty well. We got back to our house with the dog pretty much chasing us all the way back home. We went inside while the dog was still running everywhere with the owner chasing behind him.
I hate this. I wish Kara is more dog friendly but I don't think it's fair. We didn't go to a dog park. We were just walking in our neighborhood. This happened so many times in other places as well. People with their dogs unleashed at a regular park. We try to walk away from them but every now and then they would come running up to her. I don't think she will get hurt. I doubt that little french bulldog can take on a 80 lb shepherd. I am afraid that she will snap and hurt the other dogs. As untrained as that dog was, it's not fair for him to get bit just because he got a sh!tty owner.
Here's what I need advice on -

1. What should I have done in this situation when the other dog just won't leave us alone? How can I make sure nobody gets hurt?
2. Should I take my dog to training? Or socialize her with other dogs? We don't live close to friends that have dogs. To be honest, she's completely happy living with her cats and her humans. She just doesn't care for other dogs. But would she be happier if we socialize her more?

Sorry for the long post. Thanks for hearing me vent!

The prices have gotten insane at vegas...20 dollars a drink minimum, food Is horrendously overpriced, resort fees have gone up, late check out fees, service is poor, show prices are absurd, $75 buffets, and no free parking anymore. Literally squeezing the money out. As for the gambling, $25 dollar minimum for craps and table games, 6/5 blackjack, continous shuffle machines, triple roulette, poor video poker odds, and minimums to play electronic roulette. They now have lights on the video poker machines at the bar that need to be green in order to get a free drink too. To do this, you must be betting rapidly on max bet.
I know some people will say go off the strip for deals, but you do not go to Vegas to stay 20 minutes off the strip. The prices are just insane and sadly I will not be going back for awhile, I know a lot of people who feel this way now. MGM and ceasers has ruined vegas.
I hope reno is better when I go there next month.

Hi all! Long time lurker of this sub. Not my first time traveling abroad, but it's my first time going solo to a country where I don't have any friends already staying there.
I'm planning a short 5-day trip to Taiwan in early June, and I wanted to get some recommendations/opinions on my itinerary. I'm a pretty relaxed traveler-- I'm not too fussed about hitting up every single Must See Tourist Spot and I picked Taipei for this trip mainly because of 1) the food, 2) the temples, and 3) nature. Not enough time for Kaohsiung, so I'll probably go there next year instead.
Rough schedule:
D1:

• Flight: Should land by 1430
• Check into hostel in Ximending, quick break before heading out
• Explore Ximending until sundown
• Raohe Night Market
• Songshan Ci You Temple
• Rainbow Bridge

D2:

• Temple visiting (yet to decide which ones) from early morning to afternoon
• Tamsui (Old Street, Fisherman's Wharf, Qingshui Temple, Yuandao Guanyin Temple)
• Night hike up Xiangshan

D3:

• Jiufen (half day)
• [TBD]

D4:

• [TBD]

D5:

• 228 Peace Memorial Park
• Flight: Departing at 1500

For Day 3, is it viable to visit Laomei Green Reef during the second half of the day? Jiufen is a non-negotiable for D3 because it's one of the reasons I picked Taiwan for this trip (A City of Sadness is one of my favourite movies and I've wanted to take a train there + visit the locations they filmed for a while now). I've considered travel time + the amount of walking that's going to be done already, but I wanted to check if it was possible to do both places in one day.
On Day 4, I'd thought of going to Taroko Gorge but after some research, I've found out that it's better done with a 2-3 day trip to Hualien, so I was also wondering if anyone had any other recommendations for that day? Some of the other locations I've been considering are Sandiaoling Waterfall Trail and Shitoushan (Nanzhuang), but I'm open to anything else that's nature-based and has temples along the trail/hike.
I'm not really into modern buildings and overly crowded places, so I don't plan on doing much city exploration except for temples and maybe one or two night markets. I'm from Malaysia and I take a lot of public transport back home, so I'm used to walking a lot in summer temperatures and waiting on trains and buses for long distances.
I'm super stoked for my first real solo trip and I'd really appreciate any advice!

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Synchronicity, Prolepsis, and the Kali Yuga

I've never been big on spiritual beliefs but one thing I do hold to is that there are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason, Anna sells her soul and then this happens. It's no coincidence. and I often find some of the most inexplicable events happening to me. Such as finding my partner the very next day after this happened. Of all people.
I already said what's going to happen, I've always had a knack for telling the future. Although this is a bit different. Typically I try to keep things to myself. I don't believe in manifestation, but you can never be too careful about retrocausality. Even knowing how things will turn out doesn't change what I want to happen. It doesn't get rid of the hope that I can change things for a different outcome. But now I know the truth is fatalism. All the signs are there for me. I was born to do this.
Oikeosis is under attack. Appropriation of the human soul itself has been appropriated by multiconglomerate entities. Everything is so self interested nowadays that any semblance of 'good' has been lost. There is nothing good left in this world. Our society is deeply evil. Even the institutions that traditionally were right and virtuous have been spoiled. Education teaches us lies about people and about history. Charity is all around a source of embezzlement.
We rape the earth for her resources and still want more. The function of capitalism is infinite growth on a finite planet. An equation begging to rip itself apart. Alienation runs rampant, from our careers and relationships, law and money, down to where our food comes from and how our transportation works. I believe the bank of souls has ran dry and most people are born without souls. They do not think for themselves, they do not seek anything other than base animalistic desires. Anything that contests their pre-programmed worldview given to them by school and the media can't even be considered. This is why they are so easy to control. There is no place for eudaimonia in a world completely paved over with concrete, walked by people who never look up and say more than the automatic pleasantry to each other.
I can see the future, my life will amount to no more than a drop. In another reality maybe eventually we could gather an ocean from these drops. But the fires of Armageddon already rage on and drops just evaporate in the flames.

I'm Made of Cold Stone, Just Like Your Prison Walls

So how has life been? Everything is fucked, I'm ready to just blow my brains out. I'm just waiting for them to dare me and if they don't I can't keep this up much longer anyway.
Everyone wants to 'help me'. They don't want to help me. They want to say I'm the problem. Because they could never be, of course...
My psych just wants to sedate me. Doctor just wants to keep me locked up, but that would never last. Anger Management agrees with everything I say and suggests I just lie down and take it. No one is telling me I'm wrong. Then why can't anyone fix this.....
I knew since the beginning that I was just biding time. There was never any escape from this. And what would be the point in going on anyway. Even zooming out from my personal problems. This world is fucked. I don't want to be here. Public enemy #1, they can come kill me whenever they want. There's nothing left here for me except to take the walls down with me.

My biggest fan, now my biggest critic. I told you leaving it alone wouldn't help you any.

One worldview says: Coca-Cola is the product. I am the buyer. The grocery store is the seller. Another worldview says: The media is the seller. Coca-Cola is the buyer. I am the product.
It’s a vicious cycle. I think a lot about these things. I spent countless nights and days trying to figure everything out. Almost as if it’s my job. With everything that’s going on and all the variables that are involved, the World will continue on its path of destruction. No person, no group of people, no book, not even a documentary will stimulate any kind of action from the masses. I hate hearing people say that people need to “wake” up. Like seriously everybody knows what’s going on in the World. We might not know the exact details of their doings but it’s in our nature to be curious. Everybody knows what’s going on. We just can't do anything about it. The programming was successful. Their system is basically bulletproof. The pawns run the show and get the fame and blame but the real shot-callers remain hidden and unknown. The reason for this Global brain fart that the population of this world is that most people refuse to understand that this is a spiritual battle just as much as a physical one. They are scheming behind closed doors day and night trying to find different ways to enslave us further. At the same time, we run around like chickens trying to live without taking responsibility for the selfish and entertainment-oriented trajectory that the world is going in. BUY. CONSUME. OBEY. CONFORM.

Fuck The Police, but not like my cunt ex fiance does

I have no intention of ever letting a cop ever come within spitting distance of me again. I am fully ready to die. And as I said at one point. I've found the power to act even from the grave indefinitely anyways.
I'm playing by my own rules. Justice prevails or it dies trying. You don't get to make up wildly false one sided stories with absolutely no evidence and ruin my life without consequence.
I have half a mind to stop complying with this circus theatre they call a court and have them come at me. Honestly, it legit might not even be a choice because they've fucked me over so bad. I literally won't be able to do it.
I've never really wanted to kill myself. It's just the only escape. The freedom they can never take from me. I don't want to hurt people. I'm just acting in self defense, and cops aren't people. They gave up their humanity when they sold their soul to the state.

So Long And Thanks For All The Fish

I think this is finally it. She let me go, and now I can end it all without worrying about her.
All I have left in the world is material possessions. Mom brought all my stuff down from back home. I surmise that she knew she was in the wrong and had to make herself feel less guilty. I never really cared about stuff. I've lost so much stuff. I just wanted the people to stay... Now I gotta hastily figure out what I'm doing with this shit. It's not fair to leave it all with the roommates.
They've ruined my entire life, I don't even remember what happiness really felt like. Contentment. Hope for the future. I live in a constant state of paranoia, traumatized by what they've done to me, and unable to function even to keep myself together.
It's not just a breakup. I was handling the breakup just fine. It was when she came back assaulted me, played victim, and crushed me into the dust with the help of the state. Oh but I need to let it go. I need to forgive them. Why am I reacting so horribly?.. I hate you people. The reason Natasha is still on my shitlist 7 years later is that it still gets brought up. And it's not me who brings it up, and it's hindered my life. I'm reminded of it every time I see the scar on my eyebrow in the mirror... I bet it never gets brought up for her. Oh how easy it must be, that's why they needed to play the victim and not emotionally abusive cheating life ruiner. I bet they'll even pretend they're 'traumatized'. Ha, what a joke.
*shrug shoulders* "Yeah that must suck, I feel for you, system is corrupt, now pay another $100"
I could start ending them with the flip of switch and no one could honestly call it anything but justice.
Walk in and just ruin a relationship on the spot and label someone a criminal without any evidence. Nobody asked them to do that. They had to subpoena her into court. I could forgive those bitches if they hadn't shut me down as if this was all they ever wanted. But I could never forgive the piece of shit government and its negligent damage to my life. You might hear later what I had been pondering for them. 'Never forget' levels of damage to the country... I think just releasing that video could be enough to make them store that shit somewhere else. I just want to quit though. A year of prep is a year of suffering and we'll all be dust soon anyway.
And the other false accusations I've had to fight... Cops never arrested anyone for a crime against ME. Even when I lock myself in a room and call them I end up getting arrested. How bout that... How the fuck could I ever respect a badge after what I've been through? It's literally the flag of the enemy. Anna knew about all of it, that's why it was so easy for her.
My career is pretty much over, My life is permanently disabled, My psyche is perpetually fucked. And they just get to blame me, act like it's deserved, as if I made the first slight. This is rock bottom. I can't cry anymore, I don't even feel sad. The colour has come back to the world. That's why I know it's time for final goodbyes. Another day in the life and I can't take it anymore.
Love you all, take care of yourselves. Vids on the 1st.
Peace.

Attempt 4, 5, and Plan B

Going out quietly didn't work, I tried twice. The gas chamber just takes too long I guess. I ended up getting myself Baker acted. The same cop who started all of this is the one who brought me to the hospital. I know where to find him...
I never told anyone about Attempt 1 and 3. The problem with all this is wanting to go out peacefully. I've already experienced so much pain and suffering and mental torment... I can handle whatever it takes for this to be over. And yes Anna, 3 happened when you were playing with me early on.
I truly have nothing left. I'm going to make sure I die this time.
You can only kick a dog so many times before it bites back. I never wanted any of this I wish things could go back to being good. I miss happy... having future plans. I just want to stop suffering and make sure this never happens again. Why is it so hard to just go quietly? Why can't I just have a normal life?
Even the Doctor agreed with everything I said. The same Doc from my accidental OD a month ago. Medication won't help this. Therapy won't help this. Keeping me locked up was only making it worse. I'm just fucked. Rock bottom.
My dreams have become less traumatic and feel more like my life flashing before my eyes. Everyone is there, reliving the good moments, bad moments. I've been sleeping more than I've been awake the last week and I'm still tired. Just sitting in Hell's waiting room.

Half God, Half Devil

When you do monstrous things to a person, you turn them into a monster. Studies have confirmed this on various levels. People who suffer child abuse and sexual abuse are more likely to end up abusers themselves. Most of the people who have done terrible things aren't just crazy. In fact some of the biggest most memorable events are not the work of some common psychopath, but of highly intelligent people pushed too far.
I feel like I'm out of a loop. Is she still trying to minimize things for me I wonder. I would repay the favor if I knew. I think my report speaks for itself. Perhaps I'm gaining some notoriety here. Make a Deputy stop dead in his tracks. Make an officer say he doesn't want to escalate things, just clearing the park. I don't even need to act 'belligerent'. Cool and collected is more concerning. Maybe they know being in spitting distance there's a chance they will get spit on. Remember, I'm not the one knocking on YOUR door.
I don't think there's any saving me. I don't deserve this life they've left me. I know something here has got to give.
I miss being able to call myself a good person. Giving strangers rides, taking people in, doing altruistic deeds... Caring about the environment, caring about the struggle, and warring evil with reason... I miss family, and love that would go to the ends of the earth... Being a intellectual, being a potential mover for society...
But this is all I'm left with. A blog on reddit. And being a twitch away from death.

I Hate This

I suppose I should write an update about how things are going.
Nothing has been deleted really. I've backed up everything to several different places and given access to someone I trust. I haven't actually posted any of that. I was in the hospital at the time. I really thought she would send the kill squad for that for a while.
Anna may not know it but she got her white women trial against me. "Did you threaten a government building?" Result... nothing significant. Btw the answer is no, I had planned to gas myself.
I have the desire to die and haven't been able to do it. I guess at a certain level I've been antagonizing the man to come get me, make it easy. But they still haven't come and my condition has continued to deteriorate.
I know she'll never sit down with me like Natasha did. And my mom can't go 2 seconds without accusing me and shrugging off responsibility. All my backup resources and all my support, gone in a flash. Never to return. I am truly alone besides my psychopathic friend I've come to rely on.
I've been in some shit situations and this is still the worst experience I've ever had. And it just doesn't end. They left me here, and they'll blame me for the consequences.
I know I can make the man kill me. Twice I've been a twitch away from death. And twice I've had everything ready to exit the car and enter the building. They keep tabs on me. I keep a list of where the judge lives, the prosecutor, the cops, and her... Ah but see it's 'crazy' when I do it. It's 'crazy' to find out where your enemies sleep when they harass you with the knowledge they have about you. It's not crazy for them to stalk me in the cul-de-sac... Stalk me at work... I've actually seen her a couple times. I've seen my dog too... I miss Cleo. The dog hairs are still everywhere...
I guess I'm still holding onto some hope that things could get better. But logically I know there is no fixing this. It just gets worse. It only gets worse...
Either I hold out for something big. Or settle for what's already certain. Or maybe something will come save me... Wishful thinking I'm sure.
Maybe I can just shoot myself. I don't want this. and I don't want to die. But those are the only two options.
I often find myself thinking about things... I think I've relived my whole life in the last several months. I miss the freedom I had as a kid. I miss the love I felt as a teenager. The drive I had gained after my attempt. I miss the progress I had made on my career and mental health before this happened...
Now, as I said, all that makes me get out of bed and not go postal yet is pure spite and the knowledge that I can do so much more damage if I hold out just one more day, week, month, year... It's been holding true so far. I would scare my past self, and he's no softie.
When does this end. When do I get to return to normal? Never? Fine... They can only blame themselves.
I know they'll never hold her accountable for what she did. But at least I can stop taking the punishment for things I never did. And send a message while I'm at it...
"I don't want to talk to you right now" Just like her to say that and then never talk to me again... Don't want to talk to me because she lead me on and used me like a stepping stone before turning around and crushing everything I had going...
It never leaves my mind. The state is my enemy. And I have no other choices left.

Just wanted to get an itinerary check. Leaving next week:
Day 0 (March 27th): Arrive in HND, clear customs, get to hotel. Maybe Shibuya Crossing and checkout Hachiko statue. Wander around Tokyo at night. Maybe get a drink at Park Hyatt (where lost in translation was filmed).
​
Day 1 (March 28th): 9:30 am Teamlabs, Ueno park, east gardens of imperial palace, Pokemon center DX. Pretty lightish day. Could add Tokyo skytree to this day since it's near Ueno in the evening. But I heard a lot of people say it wasn't worth going because it was too tall LOL.
​
Day 2 (March 29th): Starbucks reserve roastery Tokyo (I know I'm from Seattle but I heard it's cool to sit up there). Mipig (teacup pig cafe), Miyahsh*ta park, Meiji Jingu, Shinjuku Gyoen national garden, Shibuya Sky at 7:20 pm (couldn't get a sunset res :/). Santa Monica Crepes. Also can go to pokemon center in Shibuya if I'm not pokemoned out. Maybe food tour but a lot of food tours require a minimum of 2 people :/
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Day 3 (March 30th): (pretty open day). Thinking Southern Tokyo (Ginza, Minato, and Odaiba). Or could venture to Yokohama to see the giant Gungnam statue.
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Day 4 (March 31st): Asakusa & Akihabara (have Kirby Café reservation at 1:25 pm). I also want to visit the art aquarium museum. Thinking I can do Asakusa earlier in the day
​
Day 5 (April 1st): Kiyomizu, Starbucks Kyoto, Gion, Hokan-ji temple, Maruyama park at night for the cherry blossoms :D
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Day 6 (April 2nd): Tenryu-ji temple, bamboo forest, Giouji temple, monkey park, romance train at 12 pm and take river rafting back. Kinkaku-Ji temple after getting back from rafting.
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Day 7 (April 3rd): Fushimi Inari Taisha and hike, Pontocho Alley. Spend night in Osaka instead of Kyoto.
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Day 8 (April 4th): Nara
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Day 9 (April 5th): Himeji on the way to Hiroshima. Peace museum.
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Day 10 (April 6th): Miyajima. Night train to Tokyo
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Day 11 (April 7th): Tokyo DisneySEA
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Day 12 (April 8th): Lake Kawaguchi or Hakone (still unsure which one, leaning the former because of better views of Fuji and nature)
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Day 13 (April 9th): Free day depending on how I feel (maybe more Tokyo or Nikko day trip)
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Day 14 (April 10th): Flight at 5 pm back to Seattle, Washington via Seoul Incheon airport.
​
Only downside I see is that I won't get to see much of Osaka. I could take a day out of Tokyo to see it. But not sure. I heard a lot of people say Osaka is like a smaller Tokyo and some said it is skippable.
​
Any feedback appreciated! A lot of the things I booked are refundable. So I am flexible to move things around.

Hey everyone! Thank you for all your recommendations on the Dabeli post! Tried it from a few more places this weekend and loved it ❤️
Request you all to recommend a few offbeat, quirky, fun and not so expensive places to visit (not particularly food, could be museums, parks or fun sight seeing places)
If not SoBo, where else can I go and whate else can I do? Any recommendations preferably not expensive shall be helpful.

First Entry
Second Entry
Third Entry
Fourth Entry ​
Fifth Entry
​
Journal of Camille Lambert - April 12th
​
We could see the shadows of the Nightwalkers from our place by the bonfire. They peeked in through the broken windows of the church, watching us from afar but never actually entering the ruins. I’m not sure if the firelight was what kept them away, or the protective runes that Nina had drawn.
​
Nina sat on a fallen column, watching them in case they tried anything… and yet if I walked over to the right side of the circle of columns that we’d set up our bonfire in, she seemed… dimmer. Like she was there and yet not there at the same time.
​
Dom on the other hand was crystal clear. I could see him sitting by the door of the church. I couldn’t see him at all from the left side of the circle. The mist was too thick. But on the right side, he was right there, impossible to miss. The effect was surreal, to say the least. He was holding the device Nina had used to call in her backup. She’d called it a phone but it didn’t look like any phone I’d ever seen.
​
“ETA, an hour or so for the standby team in Tallinn, 15 hours for the rest,” Nina had said after she’d made her call. “Let’s get comfortable.”
I figured that it’d been about an hour and a half since she’d said that. Standing by the bonfire itself, the world past the columns seemed to be in flux. Sometimes I could see mist through the windows and the holes in the ceiling. Sometimes I could see stars.
​
Shadows of smaller Nightwalkers darted past the church door sometimes, lingering only long enough to look in on us before retreating back into the darkness. Nina watched each one like a hawk, gripping her shotgun tightly.
I walked out to sit with her for a bit, leaving the light of the fire for a little while. Even from her vantage point, I still couldn’t see Dom but at least I knew he was safe enough.
“How many do you think are out there?” I asked quietly.
“Too many,” Nina replied. “We’re not going back to Puriysk tonight, that’s for damn sure.”
​
As she spoke, I saw more shadows moving in the dark, skittering away into the mist.
“You sure you want to stay out here? Might be safer to stay with Dom,” I said.
“Probably, but it’s better if I stay here. If the door closes, I’m better off on the inside. Be easier to open it again, that way.”
“Fair enough,” I said, looking back out into the mist. I could see nothing past it.
​
No shadows. No movement. There wasn’t even any noise. Nina looked up at the darkness again.
“Is it just me or is it quieter out there?” She asked.
“No… it’s quieter out there,” I said. “Could be there’s a big one nearby. Dom said that the small ones usually avoid them.”
​
Nina kept staring out at the mist, but the silence remained. I wasn’t sure if she was genuinely worried or not. After a few minutes, I saw movement in the mist again. I heard the rustling of trees and saw something standing in the dark. I almost thought that it might have looked like a man… almost. But I couldn’t fully make out the shape of it.
​
I could see the eyes of the Nightwalker shining in the firelight, before it finally moved, darting out of sight. Nina watched it go, before returning her attention to me.
“Good news is, we won’t be alone for that much longer,” She said. “After the first group shows up, we can head into Puriysk with them and start setting up shop. By the time the rest of them arrive, we should be in a good place. After that, it’s just a matter of getting people out and dealing with Calhoun,”
“You make it sound easy,” I said.
“I mean, it probably won’t be a walk in the park,” Nina admitted. “But at least we won’t be running this job alone. These things go easier when you’ve got help.”
“Yeah… I imagine they would,” I said.
​
Beside us, I heard a dull thud as a piece of one of the church's more damaged walls fell away and crashed to the ground. Nina was up on her feet immediately, shotgun in hand. I rose to my feet beside her.
“The fuck was that?” She asked.
“Part of the wall, I think,” I said. I spotted the spot where it had fallen and looked up. It had probably come off one of the broken domed towers near the door. One of their ceilings had come down ages ago and I imagined it wouldn’t take much more than a strong gust of wind to knock over some of the loose bricks jutting out from where the roof remained. Nina approached the fallen piece of brick, pausing to inspect it.
​
“Hell of a big chunk of wall,” She said before looking up again. I did the same, although as I did, I could’ve sworn I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at it. The shadows cast by the bonfire left pools of darkness along the ceiling.
​
But in those pools, I could see flickering reflections of light.
​
Two of them.
​
Staring right at me.
​
Slowly I reached out, putting a hand on Nina’s shoulder. I didn’t want to yell or move too quickly. I couldn’t see what was in the darkness but I know that it looked poised to strike. Nina looked over at me, before tensing up. I knew that she saw it too. The eyes remained trained on us, and I heard a low, animal hiss coming from the shadows.
“Bonfire…” Nina said, gripping her shotgun tighter “Get Dom… now.”
​
I took a step back and saw the eyes following me. Nina backed away from the shadows, eyes never leaving the ceiling. I saw limbs splaying outward from the darkness. I could see them tensing up. It was going to lunge.
​
“MOVE!” I said, breaking into a sprint, but it was too late. The Nightwalker launched itself at Nina like a bullet. I heard her shotgun fire twice, before the creature crashed into the ground, flailing violently. I could see long, dark limbs, more than any human should have struggling to pick itself up. I could see a body that only vaguely resembled a man. It had a torso, a human head, and long black hair, but looked more like a spider than a person. And yet there was something off about it. Something I hadn’t seen on any of the other Nightwalkers. This one had some kind of sigil on its forehead. Something that looked almost like a crimson eye, that seemed to glow with surreal energy.
​
The Nightwalker looked at Nina, snarling at her. When it opened its mouth, I could see rows upon rows of teeth inside. She fired her shotgun again, but the creature barely even seemed to notice them. Even after she’d gone through the trouble of cursing them, her rounds weren’t doing anything.
“RUN!” I heard her yell, and I didn’t dare question that. I just ran.
​
I sprinted toward the bonfire, just in time to see Dom running toward me. He took aim at the Nightwalker, firing at it as it tried to go after Nina. But his bullets did next to nothing to it. The Nightwalker didn’t even look at him.
​
It just kept going for Nina, almost pinning her down. She unloaded two more shells into its face, which did little more than make it flinch and bought her some time to run.
​
This time, she took off at a sprint toward the bonfire. Dom saw her running and started to backpedal as well, running back toward the bonfire and the safety of the columns. The creature paused as we took shelter by the fire, watching us intently and letting out another serpentine hiss. Nina stared back at it, before looking back at the fire. She tossed her shotgun aside and hastily grabbed one of the spare branches we’d kept for the bonfire. She put it in the fire, before pulling it out and brandishing it like a weapon. The Nightwalker hissed and recoiled a bit, focused on the flame. As it paused, Dom grabbed Nina’s shotgun off the ground and took aim.
​
“Don’t…” She said, putting a hand up to stop him, her voice low and intense. She didn’t dare look away from the Nightwalker. “Save the cursed rounds… they won’t kill it. Just get outside.”
“What about you?” Dom asked.
“Outside,” Nina repeated. “Now.”
I put a hand on Dom’s shoulder.
“Let’s go!” I said, trying to tug him along behind me.
​
He hesitated for a moment longer before finally letting me take him. We backed through the right set of columns, and once we were through I saw Nina taking a step away from the bonfire, toward the right set of columns. The Nightwalker passed the left set of columns, trying to follow her.
“Come on…” She said under her breath, “Come and get me, shithead…”
​
I saw it inching closer to her, and tensing up again, getting ready to pounce. That was when Nina made her move. She thrust her burning branch into the Nightwalker's face, earning a cry of pain from it and making it jerk back. I saw it swatting at the branch, trying to get rid of the fire. Nina took the chance to run, sprinting at top speed toward the door of the church.
“GO!”
​
Neither of us needed to be told twice. We ran for the church door, as the Nightwalker let out a roar from behind us. I looked back to see it charging toward us again, gaining ground. As we ran back out into the field, we were greeted by countless blinding lights. I saw Nina pause, before feeling her grab me by the back of the shirt and pull me away. I could see Dom in her other hand. She dragged us both down to the ground in the instant before the Nightwalker emerged from the door of the church.
​
I saw it recoil, putting up its clawed hands to try and shield its eyes from the blinding light.
​
Then I heard the gunfire.
​
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see several men, each holding automatic rifles advancing on the Nightwalker. It shrank back toward the church, trying to shield itself from the gunfire, clearly overwhelmed. But just like with Nina’s shotgun before it, the bullets did little to harm it. Despite all the gunfire it took, it didn’t fall. I could hear it hissing, I could see its beady black eyes darting around wildly. It lunged forward again, tackling one of the nearby men and tearing into him, before going after another. I saw its jaws close around his skull and heard the sickening crunch of bone as it took his head. The other men scrambled back, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Nightwalker as they could. It howled in rage, preparing to charge after them when a final, deafening gunshot echoed through the night.
​
This time, the Nightwalker's entire body seized up. It let out an agonized scream. I could see its clawed hands clutching at a wound that had appeared on its chest… and I could see smoke rising out of that wound. It kept screaming and thrashing violently. Its limbs gave out from underneath it. I could see the wound in its chest sizzling and burning. I saw the flesh and skin sloughing off of its body, and I could see the pale white bone underneath.
​
The eye sigil on its forehead flickered before fading away and the Nightwalker let out one final, howl before collapsing to the ground, its body still twitching and convulsing. I looked over to see a single woman standing calmly by the nearby trucks. She was tall and pale, with long, stringy black hair and an intense look in her eye.
​
She was dressed in a long beige coat and holding an ornate revolver in one gloved hand. As the Nightwalker died I saw her gingerly slip the pistol into the inner pocket of her coat before reaching into another pocket for a notebook. Without ever looking away from the dead Nightwalker, she scribbled something down, then pocketed the notebook again and calmly walked toward the church, not even pausing to acknowledge anyone else around her. As she left, I saw the other armed men tending to their dead. With the Nightwalker dead, I could get a better look at them now. They were dressed like soldiers, with bulletproof vests and no shortage of pockets. A few of them wore netted veils over their faces, making it hard to get a good look at them and giving them an eerie appearance, although watching them examine the bodies of their dead and respectfully carrying them away was almost humanizing.
​
Nina sat up, her blonde hair messy and a somewhat disoriented look on her face. She looked over toward the source of the lights that had blinded us. Four large SUVs were parked outside of the church, their headlights shining on the door. From those SUVs, I could see more armed men getting out and one of them was coming toward us.
​
“Nina Valentine?” I heard him ask. He had a heavy Slavic accent.
“Still alive,” She said, as she slowly climbed to her feet.
“Good. I’m Olev Kallas, I’m from the Tallinn Office, Director Durand sends his regards,” He offered Nina a hand to shake and she reluctantly took it. “The Director is currently en route, as are the rest of the team. In the meanwhile, we’re here to help.”
“Yeah and right on fucking time too,” She said, looking over at the dead Nightwalker.
​
“Ah… yes, you can thank Dr. Di Cesare for that,” Kallas said.
Nina raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that she recognized the name, but she didn’t comment on it.
“But first, I imagine you and your friends must need a hot meal and a cold drink right about now and I can get you both.”
“Oh you’ve got no fucking idea…” Nina said, as Dom helped me to my feet. She waited until we were up, before gesturing for us to follow as Kallas led us toward one of the SUV’s.
​
***
​
I barely recognized the empty field around us as Puriysk. The buildings were all long gone and in their place was a paved highway that I’d never seen before.
“The town’s been gone for as long as I can remember,” Kallas said. “I couldn’t tell you if it was us, or the Soviets who got rid of the ruins. I read somewhere that there was some talk about refurbishing the old Church, but as you see, nothing ever came of it.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” Nina said, “Made my job a hell of a lot easier.”
​
We drove down the highway, past the wide open landscape and as we drove, I couldn’t help but admire it. In the distance, I could see the lights from another nearby town and watched as they drew closer and closer. God, I’d never seen a place so full of life before. As we drove along the quiet streets, past the sleeping buildings in the early hours of the morning, they still seemed so alive. Street lights cast a warm glow on the few passersby out doing their business. There were more cars on the road than I’d ever seen before, some driving past us to their own destinations and others parked and still.
​
“I can drop you three off at a hotel if you’d like,” Kallas offered. “You can get cleaned up and have a short rest before Director Durand arrives. I can pick up some fresh clothes for you, and then we can have a debrief over dinner.”
“Yeah, works for me,” Nina said before looking over at us.
“Dinner sounds good,” I said, although at the time I had no idea what exactly a hotel was. Thankfully, I got my answer pretty quickly.
​
The room I got was comfortable. The bed was softer than anything I’d ever laid on before and the hot water… oh God… I spent almost an hour in the shower alone, enjoying the steam and feeling the tension drain out of my muscles. When I was done, I put on a soft, fluffy bathrobe and laid down, letting myself relax for the first time in days. I almost dozed off… and maybe I would have if I hadn’t heard a knock on my door.
​
I considered ignoring it and just letting sleep take me, but I figured I might as well make sure it wasn’t important. Tying my bathrobe a little tighter around me, I got up to answer the door and was greeted by Dom, still wet from the shower.
​
“Hey,” He said. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you!”
“It’s fine!” I replied, putting on a smile, “Come on in.”
I opened the door all the way to let him inside, but he hesitated.
“No, it’s alright. I just thought I’d check on you. It’s been… well, it’s been one hell of a past few days. And this feels like the first chance we’ve had to really breathe in a while.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I sighed. I still held the door open for him. “Well, we’re not going to have this conversation in the hall, so come on in. I’ve got a coffee machine in here and I’m dying to try it out.”
​
I’m not sure if it was the promise of coffee that made him accept my invitation or the realization that I probably didn’t want to be in the hall with just a bathrobe on, but he came inside anyway.I went to the coffee machine and tried to figure it out. They had these little cups that I’d never seen before, but otherwise, it seemed fairly straightforward.
​
“Man… it’s really something else out here, isn’t it?” Dom asked, going to sit down on the bed. “It’s just so bright out here!”
“I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming,” I admitted. I managed to get one of the cups into the coffee machine and watched as it pissed out a somewhat pathetic amount of scalding hot coffee that admittedly did smell very nice. It had a lovely vanilla aroma.
I brought the first cup over to Dom.
​
“Glad I’m not the only one,” He said as I went back to make another cup, “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if Nina’s backup was even going to come through and I sure as hell didn’t expect any of this.”
“You and me both,” I said with a sigh, “Is it wrong to say that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
“Well, when something seems too good to be true…” Dom murmured, “Although then again… looking at what we had in there compared to what Nina’s been telling me about life out here, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve had it bad for so long that even the smallest good thing would seem too good to be true.”
“That’s a disturbing thought,” I said.
“Maybe. But what if it’s true?”
​
I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Either way… this isn’t much more than a break, isn’t it?” Dom asked, “The calm before the storm. I know that after we talk to the Director, Nina’s going right back in… and I’m going with her.”
I nodded before taking my coffee and joining him on the bed.
“I know,” I said. “And I’m going with you.”
“You know that you don’t have to, right?” Dom asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know that this kind of thing isn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. I’m not saying to just let it be or anything, but there’s other ways to help that don’t involve shooting things and burning down buildings.”
​
Again, I paused.
“Maybe,” I said. “Honestly, whatever I can do, I just want to do it. Whatever it may be. I’ve been just accepting things the way they were for too long, the same as you. I don’t want to just accept it anymore! I can’t.”
“And you aren’t,” Dom said, “I mean… shit, I watched you take pot shots at a Nightwalker the other night. Ever since we left, you’ve done whatever you can to help out. You’ve done a hell of a lot more to fix things than anyone else I know. That takes a hell of a lot of strength. More than I’d probably have in your shoes… honestly, you’re half the reason I’m still doing this, Cam.”
​
I looked at him and felt his hand pressing over mine.
“Only half?” I teased, trying to distract from the shade I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Well, there’s everyone else too.” He said, “But right now, the one I care the most about is you.”
I actually broke down laughing at that and gently pushed him away.
“Too much?” He asked.
“No,” I said. “Just right.”
​
I let my head rest on his shoulder and for a little bit, we just sat together, hand in hand and beautifully content. I sensed him hesitating for a little while, before finally seizing the moment and placing his hand on my chin. I let him. He lifted my face and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one that I all too happily reciprocated.
​
After all… who knew when we’d get another chance?
​
***
​
The restaurant that Kallas brought us to was fairly quiet, although it wasn’t empty. As we walked in, I could see a large table set out with faces both familiar and unfamiliar at it.
​
Nina had washed almost an entire layer of dirt and soot off her face. Her hair looked cleaner and she was clearly wearing new, cleaner jeans. Although I didn’t think she’d actually changed her T-shirt. I recognized it by the neckline, but I’d never seen the whole thing before. It had a graphic of a warning label on it that said: ‘DO NOT USE FOR WET GRINDING’ although the ‘DO NOT’ part was crossed out in red.
​
Had she seriously been wearing that the whole fucking time…? At least it looked like she’d recently washed it.
​
Beside Nina, I saw Natalya, looking a little more cleaned up and wearing new clothes. Someone must have gotten her out of Puriysk earlier that day. The dark haired woman that Kallas had named as Dr. Di Cesare sat on the other side of Nina, although she was more focused on her own journal than any of us.
Lastly, I saw a man I didn’t recognize at all. He was tall and looked to be somewhere in his fifties, with wavy blond hair and a clean shaven face. He was dressed in a nice but slightly wrinkled suit.
​
The blond man was the first one to speak.
“Mr. Kallas, good to see you again,” He said as he got up to greet us.
“Director Durand, I have to say that the pleasure is all mine,” Kallas said, shaking Durand’s hand. His attention turned to us next.
​
“You two must be Camille Lambert and Dom Hoskins, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Milo Durand. I’m the Director of the Fae Relations Bureau’s Department of Public Safety.”
“Hell of a mouthful,” Dom said, shaking Durand’s hand.
“Just call us the FRB for short,” He said with a smile, “Take a seat. Dr. Di Cesare and I wanted to take some time to go through the situation with the Calhoun Pocket.”
​
Kallas pulled out some seats for us and we sat down. There were glasses of water waiting for us at the table. As soon as we sat down, Dr. Di Cesare glanced up at us, but didn’t close her notebook.
“So… now that we’re all here. Where should we begin?” Kallas asked.
“Well for starters, I’d like to get a solid picture of what exactly we’re going to be walking into when we send the rest of our people into the Calhoun Pocket,” Durand said, “Mr. Kallas, I’m aware you’re detachment has already properly secured Puriysk. But I’ve got some questions regarding the other towns so we know what else to expect once we’re inside.”
“What exactly is it that you want to know?” I asked.
​
“Well for starters, we need access to the other towns. We were told that navigating between them could be difficult, but I imagine there must be some way to circumvent that,”
“There is,” Dom said, “The roads don’t always go to the same places, but there are always landmarks and turns. You can use those to navigate.”
“One of the files I found in the archive at the Deputy’s Office has a list of landmarks and directions to reach the different towns,” Nina added, “I emailed you a copy earlier to go over,”
​
Durand nodded.
“Excellent. Which leads me to my next question. Infrastructure. I can’t imagine Calhoun’s been running a show like his without some means of providing food and power to the other towns. I’m aware that Rankin Mills had a power plant, so I figure that Calhoun is using that to keep the lights on. But what about food, gas, supplies?”
“Most of the food comes from Bakersfield,” I said. “There’s a lot of farmland there, most of it fairly safe from the mist. I used to work at a Roadhouse in Thompson Falls. We’d get deliveries every week or so.”
​
“I see… what about Puriysk and Thompson Falls? What’s there?”
“Puriysk was where they trained a lot of the Sheriff’s Boys,” Dom said. “They had the largest Deputy’s Office outside of Parsons. And Thompson Falls was more of a mining community. Lotta the construction work that was done in Parsons was done by people brought in from Thompson and Puriysk.”
​
Durand raised an eyebrow.
“Construction in Parsons?” He asked.
“Calhoun’s sorta been using it as his capital. Far as I can tell, he’s been trying to build up the towns, although Parson’s the one that’s gotten the most attention,” Dom said. “I guess it’s as close to a capital city as we’ve got in there. He also mentioned the ‘Sovereign Nation of Calhoun’ although I haven’t heard anyone outside of Parsons use that name.”
“Sovereign Nation of Calhoun…” Durand repeated, before glancing at Nina. She just gave a slightly defeated nod as if to say: ‘Yeah, he actually called it that.’
​
“Okay… let’s talk about Calhoun himself… what do you know?” Durand asked.
“Not a hell of a lot,” Dom said, “Closest I’ve ever come to actually meeting the guy is when he spoke to us outside of the church last night. Other than that, he rarely leaves his house in Parsons and rarely appears in public and most of what I’ve heard is just rumors.”
​
“Whatever you’ve heard… odds are that it’s true,” Natalya said quietly, drawing all eyes at the table over to her.
“I’ve heard the story enough times now… first from my mother, then from so many afterward. One day, the days just grew dimmer. The clouds above us just grew so thick that you could not see the sun and the mist drifted through the streets. The roads no longer led to the same places… and at night, the shadows moved, devouring any in their paths alive and screaming. First, it came for Parsons, then Rankin, Puriysk, Bakersfield, and Thompson. One by one. In time, it will come for others. He will come for others.”
​
Durand leaned in a little bit, listening intently. Dr. Di Cesare had also paused, listening as Natalya spoke.
“My mother told me that after the change, Calhoun’s people began to enter the town. Drunken louts, filling up the bars demanding free alcohol in exchange for ‘protection’ from the things outside. Although even with the alcohol, they still left bodies in their wake.”
She paused, slipping back into old, bitter memories.
​
“She told me of the ways Calhoun had changed Puriysk… most of the men either joined his little militia out of necessity or were given other jobs where they were worked to the bone. And the women…” She paused, “The homemakers he generally left alone but the young and the pretty ones found their way into the brothel. After all, his soldiers needed something to do to pass the time when they weren’t drinking and acting like children with guns. Governor Calhoun raped Puriysk, just the same as he raped every other town he took. All my life, I’ve watched as he’s milked them for his own gain and spread like a disease across new towns, looking for more. Before I even understood what home was, he had taken my home from me. Before I was old enough to speak, he had taken my life from me. Because of him, I grew up in a brothel in a town that does not exist.”
​
Durand was silent, before looking at Nina who drummed her fingers on the table.
“Valentine?” He asked.
“Like Dom said, the only interaction we had with that guy was when he talked to us last night,” She said. “I’m not a psychologist but I’d figure most of what he said is pretty on par with what a narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur would probably say. It was probably a whole lot of horseshit… probably…”
“But?” Durand asked. Nina sighed.
​
“There was one thing he said that stood out, he said that if we killed him, we’d be killing everyone else in the pocket too. He made it sound like his life was tied to it, or something. I don’t know if he can actually fucking do that or not but I’m also not sure I’d want to chance it. Some of those documents I found in the Puriysk archive mentioned Calhoun and something called ‘The Eldest’.”
​
At the mention of the name, Dr. Di Cesare looked up.
“Gretchen,” Durand asked, “Do you recognize that name.”
Gretchen Di Cesare gave a curt nod before flipping through her notebook to a previous page. As she did, I noticed her sleeve lifting briefly, revealing a tattoo on her wrist. Two wavy, parallel lines. It looked like the zodiac sign for ‘Aquarius.’
“The Eldest… Old Fae. ‘The eldest’ according to myth, hence the name. Few documented encounters. None modern…” She paused to think for a moment, “Hard to kill… harder to control. Would need the heart either way. No small task but… possible… probable.”
​
“Old Fae?” I asked, “What exactly is that?”
“More or less exactly what it says on the tin,” Nina said. “Really old forest fae who got fucked up by the Midnight Grove… and a real fucking problem if that’s what we’re going to have to deal with. Do we even know how to kill an Old Fae?”
“As stated, the heart,” Dr. Di Cesare said, “Find that, kill the Fae. Would reckon that Calhoun has it. If not on his person, then somewhere safe. And should that fail…”
She removed the revolver from her coat pocket and set it down on the table without a word.
​
“A contingency. Custom revolver, specialized blessed rounds - Malvian ice.”
I saw Nina raise an eyebrow.
“You put Malvian ice in a gun?” She asked.
“What’s Malvian ice?” I asked. I figured that this conversation required a bit of context.
“Frozen mist, obtained from the domain of an Ancient God. In essence, a part of the God herself” Dr. Di Cesare said. “Weaponized - could kill anything beneath the Ancient Gods. Never tried it with bullets before, but the live fire trial yielded promising results.”
​
My mind flashed back to the Nightwalker we’d run into last night and the way its flesh had melted away after Dr. Di Cesare had shot it with that gun. The memory sent a chill through me.
​
“So you built a gun that can shoot an Old Fae dead?” Nina asked. I couldn’t tell if she was disturbed by the guns existence or excited to try it out.
“Old Fae, Grovewalkers, and most lesser Gods, amongst other things,” Dr. Di Cesare said. “So long as it has a physical form, it can be killed.”
“Dr. Di Cesare agreed to assist us with this job, in the interest of doing her own research on the Calhoun pocket,” Durand added. “The gun is her contribution to this project. It’s intended as more of an emergency measure than anything else. But if necessary, we could use it to kill whatever is allowing Calhoun to control the pocket reality.”
Nina just whistled and sat back in her chair. She seemed almost at a loss for words.
​
“So… all we need to do is shoot Calhoun or this ‘Eldest’ thing with that gun, after we get everyone out and we’re golden, right?” Dom asked.
“I would regard The Eldest as a higher priority than Calhoun right now,” Durand said. “Calhoun could have been lying about tying his own life to the existence of the pocket reality, but I’m not willing to take that gamble if I don’t have to. Right now, my gut is saying to try and take him alive.”
​
“He’s not gonna go quietly if we try,” Nina pointed out. “Hypothetical question, if we destroy the heart, would that take the risk of killing Calhoun out of the equation?”
“No. Whatever spell was used, would not die with the caster,” Dr. Di Cesare said.
Nina nodded thoughtfully.
“I see. Fuck.”
​
“To your point though: Killing Calhoun is likely inevitable. And while I lack any meaningful data on the spell used by the Eldest or how to circumvent it, I can predict the timeframe of such a collapse. The effect would not be immediate. Could take minutes, hours or days. There may be a window for escape.”
​
“We'll have time to cross that bridge when we get to it,” Durand said. “Last question I’ve got is about the local militia, but Mr. Kallas and I can discuss that with Valentine and Mr. Hoskins separately. In the meanwhile, I believe our first order of business should be eliminating collateral. We’ll start with Puriysk, then move on to Rankin Mills, Bakersfield, and Thompson Falls. Once we’ve cleared out those towns, we’ll focus on Parsons and Calhoun. Mr. Kallas, I’ll leave it to you to oversee the evacuation efforts. It’s probably redundant to say this, but we’ve got our work cut out for us, ladies and gentlemen so let’s keep our heads down, our minds sharp and get through this as cleanly as possible. Now… without any further ado, I promised you people dinner and I’m not going to put you all to work on an empty stomach. So, as the Estonians say: ‘Head isu.’”
​
***
​
Looking back, there was a sort of bittersweetness to that evening. On one hand, I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten so well. After dinner, I went back to the hotel, enjoyed my hot shower, and sank into my warm sheets, waiting for Dom to come back from his meeting with Nina, Kallas, and Durand.
​
And yet… at the same time, all I could think about was what would happen in the morning. In the morning, we’d be leaving again, going back to Puriysk. Back to Calhoun. Part of me almost dreaded it, fearing that if I left this place then I’d never get to come back again.
​
But listening to Durand and the others talk during that briefing… so much of it went completely over my head and I couldn’t help but feel like that was a good thing. They’d been focused, precise, knowledgeable and most of all, prepared.
​
Calhoun’s threats lingered in the back of my mind, but they seemed so much smaller now. I struggled to imagine that Calhoun and the Sheriff’s Boys could do much the face of what had come for him, even with some kind of all powerful Fae at his disposal. Just Nina alone had been enough to rip Puriysk from his grasp… what could an army of her do?
​
I should have taken comfort in that idea. I did take comfort in that idea. But I still couldn’t help but worry all the same. Maybe what Dom had said earlier was true. Maybe we’d had it so bad for so long that even the smallest good thing now seemed too good to be true… maybe. When Dom came back, I was waiting for him. We lay in bed together, talking quietly to each other about what was going to happen in the morning, and holding hands, we drifted off into sleep.

First Entry
Second Entry
Third Entry
Fourth Entry ​
Fifth Entry
​
Journal of Camille Lambert - April 12th
​
We could see the shadows of the Nightwalkers from our place by the bonfire. They peeked in through the broken windows of the church, watching us from afar but never actually entering the ruins. I’m not sure if the firelight was what kept them away, or the protective runes that Nina had drawn.
​
Nina sat on a fallen column, watching them in case they tried anything… and yet if I walked over to the right side of the circle of columns that we’d set up our bonfire in, she seemed… dimmer. Like she was there and yet not there at the same time.
​
Dom on the other hand was crystal clear. I could see him sitting by the door of the church. I couldn’t see him at all from the left side of the circle. The mist was too thick. But on the right side, he was right there, impossible to miss. The effect was surreal, to say the least. He was holding the device Nina had used to call in her backup. She’d called it a phone but it didn’t look like any phone I’d ever seen.
​
“ETA, an hour or so for the standby team in Tallinn, 15 hours for the rest,” Nina had said after she’d made her call. “Let’s get comfortable.”
I figured that it’d been about an hour and a half since she’d said that. Standing by the bonfire itself, the world past the columns seemed to be in flux. Sometimes I could see mist through the windows and the holes in the ceiling. Sometimes I could see stars.
​
Shadows of smaller Nightwalkers darted past the church door sometimes, lingering only long enough to look in on us before retreating back into the darkness. Nina watched each one like a hawk, gripping her shotgun tightly.
I walked out to sit with her for a bit, leaving the light of the fire for a little while. Even from her vantage point, I still couldn’t see Dom but at least I knew he was safe enough.
“How many do you think are out there?” I asked quietly.
“Too many,” Nina replied. “We’re not going back to Puriysk tonight, that’s for damn sure.”
​
As she spoke, I saw more shadows moving in the dark, skittering away into the mist.
“You sure you want to stay out here? Might be safer to stay with Dom,” I said.
“Probably, but it’s better if I stay here. If the door closes, I’m better off on the inside. Be easier to open it again, that way.”
“Fair enough,” I said, looking back out into the mist. I could see nothing past it.
​
No shadows. No movement. There wasn’t even any noise. Nina looked up at the darkness again.
“Is it just me or is it quieter out there?” She asked.
“No… it’s quieter out there,” I said. “Could be there’s a big one nearby. Dom said that the small ones usually avoid them.”
​
Nina kept staring out at the mist, but the silence remained. I wasn’t sure if she was genuinely worried or not. After a few minutes, I saw movement in the mist again. I heard the rustling of trees and saw something standing in the dark. I almost thought that it might have looked like a man… almost. But I couldn’t fully make out the shape of it.
​
I could see the eyes of the Nightwalker shining in the firelight, before it finally moved, darting out of sight. Nina watched it go, before returning her attention to me.
“Good news is, we won’t be alone for that much longer,” She said. “After the first group shows up, we can head into Puriysk with them and start setting up shop. By the time the rest of them arrive, we should be in a good place. After that, it’s just a matter of getting people out and dealing with Calhoun,”
“You make it sound easy,” I said.
“I mean, it probably won’t be a walk in the park,” Nina admitted. “But at least we won’t be running this job alone. These things go easier when you’ve got help.”
“Yeah… I imagine they would,” I said.
​
Beside us, I heard a dull thud as a piece of one of the church's more damaged walls fell away and crashed to the ground. Nina was up on her feet immediately, shotgun in hand. I rose to my feet beside her.
“The fuck was that?” She asked.
“Part of the wall, I think,” I said. I spotted the spot where it had fallen and looked up. It had probably come off one of the broken domed towers near the door. One of their ceilings had come down ages ago and I imagined it wouldn’t take much more than a strong gust of wind to knock over some of the loose bricks jutting out from where the roof remained. Nina approached the fallen piece of brick, pausing to inspect it.
​
“Hell of a big chunk of wall,” She said before looking up again. I did the same, although as I did, I could’ve sworn I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at it. The shadows cast by the bonfire left pools of darkness along the ceiling.
​
But in those pools, I could see flickering reflections of light.
​
Two of them.
​
Staring right at me.
​
Slowly I reached out, putting a hand on Nina’s shoulder. I didn’t want to yell or move too quickly. I couldn’t see what was in the darkness but I know that it looked poised to strike. Nina looked over at me, before tensing up. I knew that she saw it too. The eyes remained trained on us, and I heard a low, animal hiss coming from the shadows.
“Bonfire…” Nina said, gripping her shotgun tighter “Get Dom… now.”
​
I took a step back and saw the eyes following me. Nina backed away from the shadows, eyes never leaving the ceiling. I saw limbs splaying outward from the darkness. I could see them tensing up. It was going to lunge.
​
“MOVE!” I said, breaking into a sprint, but it was too late. The Nightwalker launched itself at Nina like a bullet. I heard her shotgun fire twice, before the creature crashed into the ground, flailing violently. I could see long, dark limbs, more than any human should have struggling to pick itself up. I could see a body that only vaguely resembled a man. It had a torso, a human head, and long black hair, but looked more like a spider than a person. And yet there was something off about it. Something I hadn’t seen on any of the other Nightwalkers. This one had some kind of sigil on its forehead. Something that looked almost like a crimson eye, that seemed to glow with surreal energy.
​
The Nightwalker looked at Nina, snarling at her. When it opened its mouth, I could see rows upon rows of teeth inside. She fired her shotgun again, but the creature barely even seemed to notice them. Even after she’d gone through the trouble of cursing them, her rounds weren’t doing anything.
“RUN!” I heard her yell, and I didn’t dare question that. I just ran.
​
I sprinted toward the bonfire, just in time to see Dom running toward me. He took aim at the Nightwalker, firing at it as it tried to go after Nina. But his bullets did next to nothing to it. The Nightwalker didn’t even look at him.
​
It just kept going for Nina, almost pinning her down. She unloaded two more shells into its face, which did little more than make it flinch and bought her some time to run.
​
This time, she took off at a sprint toward the bonfire. Dom saw her running and started to backpedal as well, running back toward the bonfire and the safety of the columns. The creature paused as we took shelter by the fire, watching us intently and letting out another serpentine hiss. Nina stared back at it, before looking back at the fire. She tossed her shotgun aside and hastily grabbed one of the spare branches we’d kept for the bonfire. She put it in the fire, before pulling it out and brandishing it like a weapon. The Nightwalker hissed and recoiled a bit, focused on the flame. As it paused, Dom grabbed Nina’s shotgun off the ground and took aim.
​
“Don’t…” She said, putting a hand up to stop him, her voice low and intense. She didn’t dare look away from the Nightwalker. “Save the cursed rounds… they won’t kill it. Just get outside.”
“What about you?” Dom asked.
“Outside,” Nina repeated. “Now.”
I put a hand on Dom’s shoulder.
“Let’s go!” I said, trying to tug him along behind me.
​
He hesitated for a moment longer before finally letting me take him. We backed through the right set of columns, and once we were through I saw Nina taking a step away from the bonfire, toward the right set of columns. The Nightwalker passed the left set of columns, trying to follow her.
“Come on…” She said under her breath, “Come and get me, shithead…”
​
I saw it inching closer to her, and tensing up again, getting ready to pounce. That was when Nina made her move. She thrust her burning branch into the Nightwalker's face, earning a cry of pain from it and making it jerk back. I saw it swatting at the branch, trying to get rid of the fire. Nina took the chance to run, sprinting at top speed toward the door of the church.
“GO!”
​
Neither of us needed to be told twice. We ran for the church door, as the Nightwalker let out a roar from behind us. I looked back to see it charging toward us again, gaining ground. As we ran back out into the field, we were greeted by countless blinding lights. I saw Nina pause, before feeling her grab me by the back of the shirt and pull me away. I could see Dom in her other hand. She dragged us both down to the ground in the instant before the Nightwalker emerged from the door of the church.
​
I saw it recoil, putting up its clawed hands to try and shield its eyes from the blinding light.
​
Then I heard the gunfire.
​
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see several men, each holding automatic rifles advancing on the Nightwalker. It shrank back toward the church, trying to shield itself from the gunfire, clearly overwhelmed. But just like with Nina’s shotgun before it, the bullets did little to harm it. Despite all the gunfire it took, it didn’t fall. I could hear it hissing, I could see its beady black eyes darting around wildly. It lunged forward again, tackling one of the nearby men and tearing into him, before going after another. I saw its jaws close around his skull and heard the sickening crunch of bone as it took his head. The other men scrambled back, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Nightwalker as they could. It howled in rage, preparing to charge after them when a final, deafening gunshot echoed through the night.
​
This time, the Nightwalker's entire body seized up. It let out an agonized scream. I could see its clawed hands clutching at a wound that had appeared on its chest… and I could see smoke rising out of that wound. It kept screaming and thrashing violently. Its limbs gave out from underneath it. I could see the wound in its chest sizzling and burning. I saw the flesh and skin sloughing off of its body, and I could see the pale white bone underneath.
​
The eye sigil on its forehead flickered before fading away and the Nightwalker let out one final, howl before collapsing to the ground, its body still twitching and convulsing. I looked over to see a single woman standing calmly by the nearby trucks. She was tall and pale, with long, stringy black hair and an intense look in her eye.
​
She was dressed in a long beige coat and holding an ornate revolver in one gloved hand. As the Nightwalker died I saw her gingerly slip the pistol into the inner pocket of her coat before reaching into another pocket for a notebook. Without ever looking away from the dead Nightwalker, she scribbled something down, then pocketed the notebook again and calmly walked toward the church, not even pausing to acknowledge anyone else around her. As she left, I saw the other armed men tending to their dead. With the Nightwalker dead, I could get a better look at them now. They were dressed like soldiers, with bulletproof vests and no shortage of pockets. A few of them wore netted veils over their faces, making it hard to get a good look at them and giving them an eerie appearance, although watching them examine the bodies of their dead and respectfully carrying them away was almost humanizing.
​
Nina sat up, her blonde hair messy and a somewhat disoriented look on her face. She looked over toward the source of the lights that had blinded us. Four large SUVs were parked outside of the church, their headlights shining on the door. From those SUVs, I could see more armed men getting out and one of them was coming toward us.
​
“Nina Valentine?” I heard him ask. He had a heavy Slavic accent.
“Still alive,” She said, as she slowly climbed to her feet.
“Good. I’m Olev Kallas, I’m from the Tallinn Office, Director Durand sends his regards,” He offered Nina a hand to shake and she reluctantly took it. “The Director is currently en route, as are the rest of the team. In the meanwhile, we’re here to help.”
“Yeah and right on fucking time too,” She said, looking over at the dead Nightwalker.
​
“Ah… yes, you can thank Dr. Di Cesare for that,” Kallas said.
Nina raised an eyebrow. I had a feeling that she recognized the name, but she didn’t comment on it.
“But first, I imagine you and your friends must need a hot meal and a cold drink right about now and I can get you both.”
“Oh you’ve got no fucking idea…” Nina said, as Dom helped me to my feet. She waited until we were up, before gesturing for us to follow as Kallas led us toward one of the SUV’s.
​
***
​
I barely recognized the empty field around us as Puriysk. The buildings were all long gone and in their place was a paved highway that I’d never seen before.
“The town’s been gone for as long as I can remember,” Kallas said. “I couldn’t tell you if it was us, or the Soviets who got rid of the ruins. I read somewhere that there was some talk about refurbishing the old Church, but as you see, nothing ever came of it.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” Nina said, “Made my job a hell of a lot easier.”
​
We drove down the highway, past the wide open landscape and as we drove, I couldn’t help but admire it. In the distance, I could see the lights from another nearby town and watched as they drew closer and closer. God, I’d never seen a place so full of life before. As we drove along the quiet streets, past the sleeping buildings in the early hours of the morning, they still seemed so alive. Street lights cast a warm glow on the few passersby out doing their business. There were more cars on the road than I’d ever seen before, some driving past us to their own destinations and others parked and still.
​
“I can drop you three off at a hotel if you’d like,” Kallas offered. “You can get cleaned up and have a short rest before Director Durand arrives. I can pick up some fresh clothes for you, and then we can have a debrief over dinner.”
“Yeah, works for me,” Nina said before looking over at us.
“Dinner sounds good,” I said, although at the time I had no idea what exactly a hotel was. Thankfully, I got my answer pretty quickly.
​
The room I got was comfortable. The bed was softer than anything I’d ever laid on before and the hot water… oh God… I spent almost an hour in the shower alone, enjoying the steam and feeling the tension drain out of my muscles. When I was done, I put on a soft, fluffy bathrobe and laid down, letting myself relax for the first time in days. I almost dozed off… and maybe I would have if I hadn’t heard a knock on my door.
​
I considered ignoring it and just letting sleep take me, but I figured I might as well make sure it wasn’t important. Tying my bathrobe a little tighter around me, I got up to answer the door and was greeted by Dom, still wet from the shower.
​
“Hey,” He said. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you!”
“It’s fine!” I replied, putting on a smile, “Come on in.”
I opened the door all the way to let him inside, but he hesitated.
“No, it’s alright. I just thought I’d check on you. It’s been… well, it’s been one hell of a past few days. And this feels like the first chance we’ve had to really breathe in a while.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I sighed. I still held the door open for him. “Well, we’re not going to have this conversation in the hall, so come on in. I’ve got a coffee machine in here and I’m dying to try it out.”
​
I’m not sure if it was the promise of coffee that made him accept my invitation or the realization that I probably didn’t want to be in the hall with just a bathrobe on, but he came inside anyway.I went to the coffee machine and tried to figure it out. They had these little cups that I’d never seen before, but otherwise, it seemed fairly straightforward.
​
“Man… it’s really something else out here, isn’t it?” Dom asked, going to sit down on the bed. “It’s just so bright out here!”
“I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming,” I admitted. I managed to get one of the cups into the coffee machine and watched as it pissed out a somewhat pathetic amount of scalding hot coffee that admittedly did smell very nice. It had a lovely vanilla aroma.
I brought the first cup over to Dom.
​
“Glad I’m not the only one,” He said as I went back to make another cup, “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if Nina’s backup was even going to come through and I sure as hell didn’t expect any of this.”
“You and me both,” I said with a sigh, “Is it wrong to say that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
“Well, when something seems too good to be true…” Dom murmured, “Although then again… looking at what we had in there compared to what Nina’s been telling me about life out here, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve had it bad for so long that even the smallest good thing would seem too good to be true.”
“That’s a disturbing thought,” I said.
“Maybe. But what if it’s true?”
​
I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Either way… this isn’t much more than a break, isn’t it?” Dom asked, “The calm before the storm. I know that after we talk to the Director, Nina’s going right back in… and I’m going with her.”
I nodded before taking my coffee and joining him on the bed.
“I know,” I said. “And I’m going with you.”
“You know that you don’t have to, right?” Dom asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know that this kind of thing isn’t exactly in your wheelhouse. I’m not saying to just let it be or anything, but there’s other ways to help that don’t involve shooting things and burning down buildings.”
​
Again, I paused.
“Maybe,” I said. “Honestly, whatever I can do, I just want to do it. Whatever it may be. I’ve been just accepting things the way they were for too long, the same as you. I don’t want to just accept it anymore! I can’t.”
“And you aren’t,” Dom said, “I mean… shit, I watched you take pot shots at a Nightwalker the other night. Ever since we left, you’ve done whatever you can to help out. You’ve done a hell of a lot more to fix things than anyone else I know. That takes a hell of a lot of strength. More than I’d probably have in your shoes… honestly, you’re half the reason I’m still doing this, Cam.”
​
I looked at him and felt his hand pressing over mine.
“Only half?” I teased, trying to distract from the shade I could feel my cheeks flushing.
“Well, there’s everyone else too.” He said, “But right now, the one I care the most about is you.”
I actually broke down laughing at that and gently pushed him away.
“Too much?” He asked.
“No,” I said. “Just right.”
​
I let my head rest on his shoulder and for a little bit, we just sat together, hand in hand and beautifully content. I sensed him hesitating for a little while, before finally seizing the moment and placing his hand on my chin. I let him. He lifted my face and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one that I all too happily reciprocated.
​
After all… who knew when we’d get another chance?
​
***
​
The restaurant that Kallas brought us to was fairly quiet, although it wasn’t empty. As we walked in, I could see a large table set out with faces both familiar and unfamiliar at it.
​
Nina had washed almost an entire layer of dirt and soot off her face. Her hair looked cleaner and she was clearly wearing new, cleaner jeans. Although I didn’t think she’d actually changed her T-shirt. I recognized it by the neckline, but I’d never seen the whole thing before. It had a graphic of a warning label on it that said: ‘DO NOT USE FOR WET GRINDING’ although the ‘DO NOT’ part was crossed out in red.
​
Had she seriously been wearing that the whole fucking time…? At least it looked like she’d recently washed it.
​
Beside Nina, I saw Natalya, looking a little more cleaned up and wearing new clothes. Someone must have gotten her out of Puriysk earlier that day. The dark haired woman that Kallas had named as Dr. Di Cesare sat on the other side of Nina, although she was more focused on her own journal than any of us.
Lastly, I saw a man I didn’t recognize at all. He was tall and looked to be somewhere in his fifties, with wavy blond hair and a clean shaven face. He was dressed in a nice but slightly wrinkled suit.
​
The blond man was the first one to speak.
“Mr. Kallas, good to see you again,” He said as he got up to greet us.
“Director Durand, I have to say that the pleasure is all mine,” Kallas said, shaking Durand’s hand. His attention turned to us next.
​
“You two must be Camille Lambert and Dom Hoskins, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Milo Durand. I’m the Director of the Fae Relations Bureau’s Department of Public Safety.”
“Hell of a mouthful,” Dom said, shaking Durand’s hand.
“Just call us the FRB for short,” He said with a smile, “Take a seat. Dr. Di Cesare and I wanted to take some time to go through the situation with the Calhoun Pocket.”
​
Kallas pulled out some seats for us and we sat down. There were glasses of water waiting for us at the table. As soon as we sat down, Dr. Di Cesare glanced up at us, but didn’t close her notebook.
“So… now that we’re all here. Where should we begin?” Kallas asked.
“Well for starters, I’d like to get a solid picture of what exactly we’re going to be walking into when we send the rest of our people into the Calhoun Pocket,” Durand said, “Mr. Kallas, I’m aware you’re detachment has already properly secured Puriysk. But I’ve got some questions regarding the other towns so we know what else to expect once we’re inside.”
“What exactly is it that you want to know?” I asked.
​
“Well for starters, we need access to the other towns. We were told that navigating between them could be difficult, but I imagine there must be some way to circumvent that,”
“There is,” Dom said, “The roads don’t always go to the same places, but there are always landmarks and turns. You can use those to navigate.”
“One of the files I found in the archive at the Deputy’s Office has a list of landmarks and directions to reach the different towns,” Nina added, “I emailed you a copy earlier to go over,”
​
Durand nodded.
“Excellent. Which leads me to my next question. Infrastructure. I can’t imagine Calhoun’s been running a show like his without some means of providing food and power to the other towns. I’m aware that Rankin Mills had a power plant, so I figure that Calhoun is using that to keep the lights on. But what about food, gas, supplies?”
“Most of the food comes from Bakersfield,” I said. “There’s a lot of farmland there, most of it fairly safe from the mist. I used to work at a Roadhouse in Thompson Falls. We’d get deliveries every week or so.”
​
“I see… what about Puriysk and Thompson Falls? What’s there?”
“Puriysk was where they trained a lot of the Sheriff’s Boys,” Dom said. “They had the largest Deputy’s Office outside of Parsons. And Thompson Falls was more of a mining community. Lotta the construction work that was done in Parsons was done by people brought in from Thompson and Puriysk.”
​
Durand raised an eyebrow.
“Construction in Parsons?” He asked.
“Calhoun’s sorta been using it as his capital. Far as I can tell, he’s been trying to build up the towns, although Parson’s the one that’s gotten the most attention,” Dom said. “I guess it’s as close to a capital city as we’ve got in there. He also mentioned the ‘Sovereign Nation of Calhoun’ although I haven’t heard anyone outside of Parsons use that name.”
“Sovereign Nation of Calhoun…” Durand repeated, before glancing at Nina. She just gave a slightly defeated nod as if to say: ‘Yeah, he actually called it that.’
​
“Okay… let’s talk about Calhoun himself… what do you know?” Durand asked.
“Not a hell of a lot,” Dom said, “Closest I’ve ever come to actually meeting the guy is when he spoke to us outside of the church last night. Other than that, he rarely leaves his house in Parsons and rarely appears in public and most of what I’ve heard is just rumors.”
​
“Whatever you’ve heard… odds are that it’s true,” Natalya said quietly, drawing all eyes at the table over to her.
“I’ve heard the story enough times now… first from my mother, then from so many afterward. One day, the days just grew dimmer. The clouds above us just grew so thick that you could not see the sun and the mist drifted through the streets. The roads no longer led to the same places… and at night, the shadows moved, devouring any in their paths alive and screaming. First, it came for Parsons, then Rankin, Puriysk, Bakersfield, and Thompson. One by one. In time, it will come for others. He will come for others.”
​
Durand leaned in a little bit, listening intently. Dr. Di Cesare had also paused, listening as Natalya spoke.
“My mother told me that after the change, Calhoun’s people began to enter the town. Drunken louts, filling up the bars demanding free alcohol in exchange for ‘protection’ from the things outside. Although even with the alcohol, they still left bodies in their wake.”
She paused, slipping back into old, bitter memories.
​
“She told me of the ways Calhoun had changed Puriysk… most of the men either joined his little militia out of necessity or were given other jobs where they were worked to the bone. And the women…” She paused, “The homemakers he generally left alone but the young and the pretty ones found their way into the brothel. After all, his soldiers needed something to do to pass the time when they weren’t drinking and acting like children with guns. Governor Calhoun raped Puriysk, just the same as he raped every other town he took. All my life, I’ve watched as he’s milked them for his own gain and spread like a disease across new towns, looking for more. Before I even understood what home was, he had taken my home from me. Before I was old enough to speak, he had taken my life from me. Because of him, I grew up in a brothel in a town that does not exist.”
​
Durand was silent, before looking at Nina who drummed her fingers on the table.
“Valentine?” He asked.
“Like Dom said, the only interaction we had with that guy was when he talked to us last night,” She said. “I’m not a psychologist but I’d figure most of what he said is pretty on par with what a narcissistic megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur would probably say. It was probably a whole lot of horseshit… probably…”
“But?” Durand asked. Nina sighed.
​
“There was one thing he said that stood out, he said that if we killed him, we’d be killing everyone else in the pocket too. He made it sound like his life was tied to it, or something. I don’t know if he can actually fucking do that or not but I’m also not sure I’d want to chance it. Some of those documents I found in the Puriysk archive mentioned Calhoun and something called ‘The Eldest’.”
​
At the mention of the name, Dr. Di Cesare looked up.
“Gretchen,” Durand asked, “Do you recognize that name.”
Gretchen Di Cesare gave a curt nod before flipping through her notebook to a previous page. As she did, I noticed her sleeve lifting briefly, revealing a tattoo on her wrist. Two wavy, parallel lines. It looked like the zodiac sign for ‘Aquarius.’
“The Eldest… Old Fae. ‘The eldest’ according to myth, hence the name. Few documented encounters. None modern…” She paused to think for a moment, “Hard to kill… harder to control. Would need the heart either way. No small task but… possible… probable.”
​
“Old Fae?” I asked, “What exactly is that?”
“More or less exactly what it says on the tin,” Nina said. “Really old forest fae who got fucked up by the Midnight Grove… and a real fucking problem if that’s what we’re going to have to deal with. Do we even know how to kill an Old Fae?”
“As stated, the heart,” Dr. Di Cesare said, “Find that, kill the Fae. Would reckon that Calhoun has it. If not on his person, then somewhere safe. And should that fail…”
She removed the revolver from her coat pocket and set it down on the table without a word.
​
“A contingency. Custom revolver, specialized blessed rounds - Malvian ice.”
I saw Nina raise an eyebrow.
“You put Malvian ice in a gun?” She asked.
“What’s Malvian ice?” I asked. I figured that this conversation required a bit of context.
“Frozen mist, obtained from the domain of an Ancient God. In essence, a part of the God herself” Dr. Di Cesare said. “Weaponized - could kill anything beneath the Ancient Gods. Never tried it with bullets before, but the live fire trial yielded promising results.”
​
My mind flashed back to the Nightwalker we’d run into last night and the way its flesh had melted away after Dr. Di Cesare had shot it with that gun. The memory sent a chill through me.
​
“So you built a gun that can shoot an Old Fae dead?” Nina asked. I couldn’t tell if she was disturbed by the guns existence or excited to try it out.
“Old Fae, Grovewalkers, and most lesser Gods, amongst other things,” Dr. Di Cesare said. “So long as it has a physical form, it can be killed.”
“Dr. Di Cesare agreed to assist us with this job, in the interest of doing her own research on the Calhoun pocket,” Durand added. “The gun is her contribution to this project. It’s intended as more of an emergency measure than anything else. But if necessary, we could use it to kill whatever is allowing Calhoun to control the pocket reality.”
Nina just whistled and sat back in her chair. She seemed almost at a loss for words.
​
“So… all we need to do is shoot Calhoun or this ‘Eldest’ thing with that gun, after we get everyone out and we’re golden, right?” Dom asked.
“I would regard The Eldest as a higher priority than Calhoun right now,” Durand said. “Calhoun could have been lying about tying his own life to the existence of the pocket reality, but I’m not willing to take that gamble if I don’t have to. Right now, my gut is saying to try and take him alive.”
​
“He’s not gonna go quietly if we try,” Nina pointed out. “Hypothetical question, if we destroy the heart, would that take the risk of killing Calhoun out of the equation?”
“No. Whatever spell was used, would not die with the caster,” Dr. Di Cesare said.
Nina nodded thoughtfully.
“I see. Fuck.”
​
“To your point though: Killing Calhoun is likely inevitable. And while I lack any meaningful data on the spell used by the Eldest or how to circumvent it, I can predict the timeframe of such a collapse. The effect would not be immediate. Could take minutes, hours or days. There may be a window for escape.”
​
“We'll have time to cross that bridge when we get to it,” Durand said. “Last question I’ve got is about the local militia, but Mr. Kallas and I can discuss that with Valentine and Mr. Hoskins separately. In the meanwhile, I believe our first order of business should be eliminating collateral. We’ll start with Puriysk, then move on to Rankin Mills, Bakersfield, and Thompson Falls. Once we’ve cleared out those towns, we’ll focus on Parsons and Calhoun. Mr. Kallas, I’ll leave it to you to oversee the evacuation efforts. It’s probably redundant to say this, but we’ve got our work cut out for us, ladies and gentlemen so let’s keep our heads down, our minds sharp and get through this as cleanly as possible. Now… without any further ado, I promised you people dinner and I’m not going to put you all to work on an empty stomach. So, as the Estonians say: ‘Head isu.’”
​
***
​
Looking back, there was a sort of bittersweetness to that evening. On one hand, I don’t remember the last time I’ve eaten so well. After dinner, I went back to the hotel, enjoyed my hot shower, and sank into my warm sheets, waiting for Dom to come back from his meeting with Nina, Kallas, and Durand.
​
And yet… at the same time, all I could think about was what would happen in the morning. In the morning, we’d be leaving again, going back to Puriysk. Back to Calhoun. Part of me almost dreaded it, fearing that if I left this place then I’d never get to come back again.
​
But listening to Durand and the others talk during that briefing… so much of it went completely over my head and I couldn’t help but feel like that was a good thing. They’d been focused, precise, knowledgeable and most of all, prepared.
​
Calhoun’s threats lingered in the back of my mind, but they seemed so much smaller now. I struggled to imagine that Calhoun and the Sheriff’s Boys could do much the face of what had come for him, even with some kind of all powerful Fae at his disposal. Just Nina alone had been enough to rip Puriysk from his grasp… what could an army of her do?
​
I should have taken comfort in that idea. I did take comfort in that idea. But I still couldn’t help but worry all the same. Maybe what Dom had said earlier was true. Maybe we’d had it so bad for so long that even the smallest good thing now seemed too good to be true… maybe. When Dom came back, I was waiting for him. We lay in bed together, talking quietly to each other about what was going to happen in the morning, and holding hands, we drifted off into sleep.

Sooo a quick google tells me this..
+++ Rejuvenating Used Potting Soil Many gardeners simply mix used potting soil with new material, using about half of each, with a few handfuls of organic fertilizer added to boost plant nutrition. Or, you can place the old potting soil in the bottoms of very large containers, and fill the upper parts with a fresh mix.
This simple practice works well with soil that hosted healthy plants, but my humid climate is rife with blights and mildews, so I take the extra step of heat-treating potting soil that was used to grow edibles. Only 30 minutes of exposure to temperatures above 120°F (49°C) will kill most disease pathogens, but you need not stink up your house by using your oven. Instead, put a few gallons of used potting soil in a black plastic bag, and place the bag inside a translucent storage bin set in full sun on a bright day. A parked car with the windows rolled up makes a good solarization chamber, too. Once used potting soil has been heated and cooled, it’s ready to add to any type of new mixture you want to create.+++
I have about 75lbs of soil split between a bunch of 5 gallon buckets, a few are also from prior years grow. Over the next week or two i plan on gollowing this, getting a see-thru bin and placing dirt in black trash bags for a day or two, checking the temp around noon-ish, and reusing the dirt in the next couple of weeks. I also have some Fox Farm liquid plant food BIG BLOOM concentrate made from earthworm castings and bat guano, says 0-0.5-0.7 on the bottle.
I think this is a good idea though? I figure i can get a tarp, throw my heated dirt into a pile on the tarp between heatings, and then maybe turn the dirt a couple of times to blend everything together? Then pot my plants back into my 5 gallon buckets and water them with the plant food?
Also the dirt contains some of the prior years plants, some of the buckets have grass growing along with clovers or some shit? Will take pics in the morning!
In SE Virginia