#I guess CS is still red?

[mirastudiesphysics]

Assigning colors to subjects has become a lot more subtle as my classes are now all physics/astronomy related, just with different flavors.

[phantomrose96]

The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.

I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.

What is AI? And what is not AI?

So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.

A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)

An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.

A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.

Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)

So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:

"AI" which is just genuinely not AI

There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.

Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"

2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now

"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.

The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.

Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.

3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")

If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).

This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.

This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.

(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)

[queer-n-here]

HEY

ITS THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR FYODOR X MUSCULAR READER

ERMMMM

IF ITS OKAY CAN I HAVE THAT NOW BUT SMUT

PLEASE

( im not desperate i promise )

-🦅 ( eagle emoji anon cs rahh america )

Yeah brotha, ofc!

Also, welcome to the anon fam. Here we go, Fyodor smut. (And guess what? I'm writing this in my mom's school so like... pray that I don't caught)

Also, I'm gonna do your Kunikida req, too, just gimme like a day or two, yeah? Hope you like it, even though it kinda got OOC.

Contents: You walk in on Fyodor fingering himself to the thought of you, and then you fuck the poor anemic man.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, nipple play, OOC Fyodor.

Fyodor was almost ready to get on his knees and beg.

It was probably the first time in his entire life that he'd ever been so desperate.

It had all started that one day when you'd picked him up for the first time, and ever since then his skull could only contain one thought: you. Any and all attempts at a distraction were futile. After trying for weeks, Fyodor gave up on them.

His only solace was the handful of hours when he'd be asleep. Lately, however, you'd started haunting his dreams, too, plaguing them with thoughts and images of you that grew filthier and filthier each time. Gods, what were you doing to him? And how were you doing it? Was this a part of your ability? To hypnotize someone and make them lose control of their senses?

Even know, rutting pitifully against the pile of blankets in your room, Fyodor's glazed eyes could see you. Your huge form, towering over his own. Your ginormous hands tracing his skin, gripping his waist and rubbing his nipples.

His naked chest came in contact with the bed sheets, and he threw his head and moaned, pathetic dick rubbing back and forth against the soon to be stained sheets.

But it wasn't enough. It wasn't even nearly enough.

Fyodor licked his fingers slick, then reached back to insert the first one into his achingly empty hole, trying to convince himself that it was your finger his hole was fluttering around. He shut his eyes, seeing you against the back of his eyelids instead.

Pre-cum dribbled down his shaft as his shoulders shook, his free hand clenching desperately at the sheets. Gasps and moans spilled from his red and bitten lips, and all of a sudden his fingers hit a certain spot.

Fyodor's back arched, a particularly loud moan leaving his mouth. He slipped in a second finger, hand moving faster now. He bit down on the sheets beneath his head, muffling his cries against the fabric as he found himself tipping over the edge soon. As his cum hit the sheets, so did his body. His poor anemic body couldn't hold for any longer.

He rolled over onto his back instead, dazed eyes opening slowly, and taking a moment to process what they were seeing.

You.

For a moment Fyodor almost believed that he had now gone insane. But it was too real to be an illusion, you were too real.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to grab the sheets beneath him and try to cover himself with them. You were faster, though, ripping the sheets out of his grasp and letting them fall onto the floor.

This was going to be fun.

Not that you had expected to see Fyodor like this when you opened the door of his room. I mean, sure, maybe you could blame that on your habit of not knocking, or maybe even his of not locking his door. But you were glad you two did that, how else would you have ended up in his room, smirk growing on your face as you took in his condition.

Fyodor was still trying to reach for the sheets, but you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head, making him fall onto the bed on his back with a huff.

"Fyodor," Your eyes had an unusual darkness to them, one that set the alarms blaring in his head. "What were you doing?"

Fyodor tried to struggle out of your grasp, his weak body fighting against yours to no avail as a deep red blush rose through his flesh. "...It's none of your business!"

"Isn't it?" You tilted your head, face inches away from his. "You said my name."

Fyodor froze. "W-what?"

"You called for me," You repeated. "And you were loud, too. I thought you were hurt somewhere."

His pale skin reddened further, and he turned to look away from your blazing eyes, but you grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

"Were you thinking about me?" The smirk had returned to your face, and your eyes were hungrily roaming over Fyodor's body. "You were fucking your hole with your fingers like a little bitch in heat; were you pretending they were mine?"

Fyodor's breath hitched. Being caught like this before he had even come down from his previous high was intimidating, but also strangely arousing. He let you loom over him, your huge body almost completely hiding his against the bed.

"Answer me, Fyodor," You said.

And he couldn't do anything but nod, cheeks flaming. You leaned forwards and kissed him, smiling slightly. He gasped again, surprised, eyes wide and hands falling limp in your hold. You let them go, placing your hands on his waist instead as you pressed him into the bed, tongue invading his mouth.

"W-what are you doing?" Fyodor pulled away just long enough to ask.

"Hmm," You hummed against his lips, pulling back and sitting on the bed to take of your clothes. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Fyodor's breath hitched, his skinny body shifting against yours. You finished stripping, leaning down to kiss him full on the lips again, this time more passionate. He fisted his hands in your shirt, pulling you closer weakly.

You sighed softly, reaching forward to trace the curve of his neck, the dip of his collarbone. Pulling away, you lowered your head to kiss there instead, leaving marks in the wake of your fingertips. Fyodor moaned, screwing his eyes shut against the feeling of your lips on his skin.

"[Name]," He panted, biting his lips to stop himself from moaning too loud.

"Hmm?" You pulled away from his collarbone, raising your head to look at him. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly at the pet name, but he wrapped his arms around your neck all the same. "Please, fuck me..."

And who were you to deny him?

He'd prepped himself just fine, and, aligning your tip with his leaking hole, you were able to slide in your member relatively easily. You started slow, thrusting into him gently at first, trying to give him time to adjust himself.

"[Name]." Fyodor moaned, brows furrowed. "Nggh, f-faster, please!"

You obliged him, speeding up considerably as you lifted his legs, wrapping them around your waist before placing your hands on either side of his head. Fyodor was clenching around you with each thrust, each nudge of your tip against his soft and tight walls making his toes curl.

Your hips snapped against his, and his back arched, thrusting his nipples up into your face. You kissed them readily, licking and biting and teasing to your heart's content as the man beneath you squirmed and panted and moaned.

"Fyodor," You said, teeth gritted against the feeling of Fyodor around you. "Does it feel good, hmm? Tell me, d'you like it when I fuck you like this?"

Fyodor's eyes were blurred up with tears, his eyes blown out and wide, making him look like he wouldn't be able to process anything but your cock in his ass for the life of him. Still, he nodded frantically. "S-so good, hah! Mmph, [Name]! Feels so... so good..."

You rolled your hips, pounding into him with a rhythm so heavenly, it had Fyodor seeing stars. One thrust in particular hit somewhere so soft inside him, he cried out, and you shifted to hit that spot again. His grip on your shoulders tightened, head falling back to expose his beautiful neck.

You leaned down to kiss it, rolling your hips and bullying his prostrate. His nails were burying into your skin, moans growing louder and louder by the minuted in a way that told you he was close.

And sure enough, pretty soon Fyodor was trying to speak through his lewd noises. You understood his meaning even when his words were barely coherent. Speeding up, you bit his shoulder, making him cry out in a mixture of pain of pleasure so intense all other thoughts were wiped out from his brain.

He reached his orgasm, hips bucking up into yours as a cry ripped itself free from his throat. You slowed down to a stop even as your cock throbbed at the feeling of Fyodor clenching around you so tight it almost made you lose control.

He huffed and panted beneath you, using one hand to cover his face. You gently pried it away, planting a kiss on his forehead. You waited for him to come down from his high, peppering kisses on his face softly.

He raised a hand to place on your chest to stop you, giggling softly. "You..." He hesitated slightly. "You haven't finished yet, right?"

You had been ignoring your throbbing dick for a while now, trying to remain still despite the desire building in your gut.

You shook your head.

Fyodor flushed slightly. His arms had fallen limply onto the bed when he'd came, and now they rose to wrap themselves around your neck again.

"Go on, then. You can... do it till you cum."

And being as restless as you were, you immediately began moving again.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 3

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Regent’s forces were rivers of darker red, driving inroads into their lines, mingling their armies together, like a stream of blood hitting water, then diffusing.

He killed, and it was simply that men got out of his way, or were dead.

He had grown used to something that had been temporary, like the flash of exhilaration in a pair of blue eyes for a moment catching his own. All of that tangled together inside him, and tightened, through the killing, into a single hard knot.

something about the way this is written just hits me in the abandonment issues

‘If the Prince of Vere shows himself, I will kill him.’ Nikandros half spat the words.

nik private twitter venting moment #2

The ground was wet, his legs were mud-spattered above his knees—mud in dry summer, because the ground was blood.

i don’t know man i feel like after a point you have to just be like. hey. why are we doing this again? like yeah i get that fighting in a military force can be for A Cause but unless you’re directly involved in enacting ideological change, aren’t you basically just cannon fodder

On the far side of the field, he saw the flash of embroidered red. That is how Akielons win wars, isn’t it? Why fight the whole army, when you can just—

i’m guessing the part in italics in a previous laurent line, about damen killing auguste at marlas?

He used the little name that Damen had been called as a boy; the childhood name, reserved for intimates.

the fact that is was kastor specifically asking the veretians to call him that…

Damen realised that he was on his knees, his own chest heaving like the chest of his horse.

laurent’s horse will be glad to know that damen’s horse lived. because, as we all know, they’re in love

‘Over?’ The word grated out of him. All he could think was that if the Regent still lived, nothing was over.

it is interesting how, even when he thinks laurent screwed him over (see previous chapter), damen has this uncontrollable rage towards the regent rather than laurent. i think this has more to do with the regent killing his men and trying invade his country, though. and maybe just that it’s easier to hate him than laurent. “regent = bad” is something that’s easy for damen to comprehend right now, while laurent’s whole thing is a lot more confusing and intimate

And with returning awareness, he saw as if for the first time the bodies of the men that he had killed to get to the Regent’s decoy, and beyond that, the evidence of what he had done. The field was a rutted earthworks strewn with the dead. The ground was a churned mess of flesh, ineffective armour and riderless horses. Killing ceaselessly, for hours, he had not been aware of the scale of it, of what he had caused to happen here. He saw flashes behind his eyelids, faces of the men he’d killed. Those left standing were all Akielon; and they stared at Damen as at something impossible.

damen holy shit… i guess that’s one way to reclaim your authority. and he didn’t even mean it as a sign of intimidation, he just wanted to get to the “regent.” who by the way was just some random guy RIP

‘Find the highest-ranked Veretian still living and tell them they have leave to bury their dead,’ said Damen. There was a fallen Akielon banner on the ground beside him. ‘Charcy is claimed for Akielos.’ As he rose, Damen wrapped his hand around its wooden pole and planted it in the earth.

not sure if calling it an akielion victory despite the combined forces is just customary, or intentionally out of spite. i’m leaning on the former, since it’s damen and not laurent we're talking about

The herald came cantering across the devastated landscape on a white, glossy mare with a curved neck and a high, flying tail. Beautiful and untouched, he made a mockery of the sacrifice of the brave men on the field. His banner streamed out behind him, and its blazon was Laurent’s starburst, in blue and shining gold.

here is an excerpt from a post i made while reading king’s rising for the first time:

“damen when he realizes he’s not in a slow burn romance with problematic beginnings, but a complex psychological thriller in which the smartest fictional character i have ever personally encountered has decided to make his life a living hell and also they’re in love with each other but the psychological thriller stuff is way more important to his bitchy blonde nightmare malewife and he is SO down bad and just has to deal with laurent’s mean girls 4d chess petty nonsense bc it’s enrichment for him and damen will kill anyone who gets in laurent’s way and he can’t even pick up the very very VERY clear implications of laurent’s trauma that would probably allow them to reach some kind of vulnerability equilibrium in their relationship”

on a re-read, i think this is a great time to dig into that a little more ;)

SO what i love about so much of laurent’s choices in the next few chapters is the fact that much of what he says and does is entirely petty. like, yes there’s always strategy and trauma and depth as usual, but i think it’s not denying him depth to say that he is 20 years old, this is his first love in the midst of an extremely stressful and messy situation, and despite his own wishes he cannot prevent his emotions from affecting his actions. laurent has had control over so much of the situation with damen thus far, both with the power dynamics between them as master and “slave” and the fact that damen didn’t know that laurent knew who he was. but now laurent knows that damen knows, so all of his previous and future actions are going to be under damen’s scrutiny in that context. they’re equals now, and the secrets reinforcing laurent’s prior cognitive dissonance have dissolved. that leaves laurent vulnerable (especially after being tortured and genuinely letting damen down even if by accident) and emotional compromised (he has no choice but to see damen as damianos, and with that comes all of the auguste baggage and the fact that they’ve already fallen in love and had sex under different circumstances).

all that is to say, the next few chapters are laurent’s mean girls era. he is, again, still being smart and strategic (4d chess), and his feelings are valid and his trauma is real. however, he is also just being MEAN, for the same reasons classic high school movie mean girls tend to be: he feels insecure and vulnerable about his romantic attachment to damen, stressed out by the insane amount of power he definitely should not have, and self-righteous about all the ways the world has conspired against him. regina george might have been the villain of the movie, but she was the hero of her own story. janis and cady methodically dismantled her life as a popular, powerful, and confident person. that’s why she got revenge with the burn book instead of looking inward and acknowledging her own issues, of which there were many. she had a machiavellian view of life, in which mean people always won, and so being mean in retaliation was how she could protect herself from being a victim.

that is laurent’s perspective too, for a lot of this series. we don’t know anything about regina’s backstory, or heather chandler’s (another great example), but we do know exactly why laurent has the worldview he does. he used to be sweet and it made him a victim. so he is mean to protect himself, even if that robs him of his sweetness. damen’s integrity and honor have challenged laurent’s worldview, though, and that has been the source of a lot of laurent’s slow reconsideration. but now that laurent can’t just pretend that damen isn't damianos, now that he has to accept this situation in its full interpersonal and political messiness, he isn’t nearly as inspired. laurent assumes, now that laurent has gone “mask off,” that damen will realize that laurent doesn’t deserve the love he has shown him in the past. because laurent has been mean to damen, by lying about his awareness even at the times damen thought he was being earnest and sweet. that makes damen a victim and fool—two things laurent deeply fears being, and therefore assumes everyone else also fears in themselves. two things the regent had wanted laurent to consider himself, by placing damen in his life in the first place.

therefore, in his insecurity and vulnerability and anger, as a 20 year old just experiencing his first love, as someone with a lot of power and stress who cannot waste time or energy on genuinely confronting his own flaws in good faith, laurent is gearing up to be sososososo mean to damen specifically in the next few chapters. like comedically mean. aimlessly mean. pathetically mean. on purpose. ultimately, if he must be alone (which he obviously must, says laurent's brain), laurent would rather be the villain of someone else’s story than a victim in his own. that, at least, is similar to book 1 laurent—but while he was a cat playing with a mouse in book 1, in a position to do serious damage to his opponent, now he’s more like…. a cat, slapping another cat. evenly matched, but still throwing hands. transparently insecure and pathetic, only effective in doing emotional damage in ways he doesn’t intend. damen isn’t hurt by the petty things laurent says and does, because he sees through them for what they are. he’s hurt because laurent sees them as necessary to protect himself and keep his distance, when all damen wants is to make things okay between them. which laurent would never expect, because he assumes that damen wants nothing to do with him, and would be happier and better off if they stayed apart.

basically: unstoppable force (damen's persistent caring) meets unmovable object (laurent's refusal to be genuinely cared for). the only way for this cycle to end is for damen to choose to stop, or for laurent to choose to yield. laurent will eventually make that choice, but he still has to be a huge bitch about it first. he's going to lash out at damen and challenge him to stop caring, but ultimately fail—both because damen is just built different, and because he's lowkey written as a fantasy partner for emotionally volatile people with attachment and abandonment issues.

rest assured, laurent’s genre is still psychological thriller, but it’s also now a high school drama movie. and damen is about to get a bitter taste of that, with pretty much no choice in the matter. this poor man will have to deal with laurent’s bitchy theatrics as they try to co-parent an army, and he’s already too emotionally invested and aware of laurent’s habit of lashing out when he’s in pain to genuinely fight back.

this could also be called laurent’s s1 catra era, but i’m not sure what the venn diagram of capri and she ra enjoyers looks like. to those who get it—laurent is doing what catra did at princess prom for the next several chapters, down to the “hey adora” = “hello lover.” this dynamic is very fun to read because it doesn’t overstay its welcome. it’s different from laurent in book 1, or catra in general, because it’s so clearly pathetic, damen and laurent are on the same side of the war, and damen could technically make it stop at any point. so i think it’s very very fun, while it lasts >:)

The herald reined in in front of him. Damen looked at the mare’s shiny coat, not dirt-covered, not heaving or darkened with sweat, and then at the herald’s livery, in immaculate condition, unflecked by the dust of the road. He felt it rising at the back of his throat. ‘Where is he?’

damen showed up to the prom laurent planned with him to unite their rival high schools, only to find himself dateless and laurent’s promised fancy party decorations missing. this is the moment where damen checks snapchat (i was in high school from 2013-2017) and sees everyone from vere high at their own immaculately-decorated prom, where laurent is being crowned king. little does damen know, laurent was blindsided by the vere-only prom and forced via social pressure to be there since everyone elected him prom king. they’re mad at each other for a high school drama pacing-typical period of time, and then make up when they realize the misunderstanding and reassert their dedication to each other.

laurent did still murder someone with a chair, though. but like a metal folding chair from the band room

The herald’s back hit the ground. Damen had dragged him bodily from his horse into the dirt, where he lay dazed and winded, with Damen’s knee in his stomach. Damen’s hand was around his neck.

His grip tightened before it opened enough to allow the herald to speak. The herald rolled onto his side and coughed as Damen released him. He pulled something from inside his jacket. Parchment, with two lines on it. You have Charcy. I have Fortaine. He stared at the words, written in familiar, unmistakable handwriting. I’ll receive you at my fort.

lamen hr complaint #5 (unnamed herald): ragdolling this guy over what should be impersonal, professional correspondence

also, because i can't help myself:

Fortaine eclipsed even Ravenel, powerful and beautiful, its towers high-flung, its jutting crenelles biting the sky. It rose to a sheer, impossible height and, from every vantage, it was flying Laurent’s banners. The pennants seemed to float on the air effortlessly, patterned silk in blue and gold.

WELCOME HOME, BROTHER KILLER

Rows upon rows of peaked, coloured tents were pitched on the field outside Fortaine’s walls, the sun lighting the pavilions, the banners, and the silks of a graceful encampment. It was a city of tents, and it camped a fresh, intact force of Laurent’s men, who had not fought and died through the morning. The constructed arrogance of the display was intentional. It said, exquisitely: Did you exert yourself at Charcy? I have been here examining my nails.

this is funny and i wouldn’t put it past laurent, but also i’m not sure if he like. really meant this part of it specifically to piss damen off. he was just tortured idk he probably just wanted things nice. a good part of the fun of lamen divorce era is remembering that damen’s interpretation of events isn’t necessarily accurate, and that it’s hilarious how he interprets things as petty personal slights even when they might not be. they’re both so obsessed with each other and it’s great

Nikandros reined in alongside him. ‘Uncle and nephew are alike. They send other men to do their fighting for them.’

nik tweets this verbatim on priv (#3)

Damen was silent. What he felt in his chest was a hardness like anger. He looked at the elegant silken city and thought about men dying on the field at Charcy.

but not exactly anger—betrayal? heartache? self-consciousness?

Some kind of herald’s greeting party was riding towards them. He gripped the Regent’s bloody, torn banner in his hand.

the phrase “greeting party” just made me imagine them rolling up with like confetti and a speaker blasting the celebration song. while damen holds the bloody torn banner

‘Just me,’ said Damen, and put his heels into his horse. About halfway across the field, he was met by the herald, who arrived with an anxious party of four attendants saying something urgent about protocol. Damen listened to four words of it. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Damen. ‘He’s expecting me.’

lamen hr complaint #6 (more unnamed heralds): disregarding protocol

(also “he’s expecting me” girlllll)

Without even pulling off his gauntlets, he strode to the tent. He knew its high scalloped folds; he knew the starburst pennant. No one stopped him. Not even when he reached the tent and dismissed the soldier at the entrance with a single order: ‘Go.’ He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. The soldier let him through: of course he did; this had all been planned. Laurent was ready for him whether he came docilely behind the herald or, as he did now, the dirt and the sweat of the battle still on him, blood dried in the places where a cursory swipe with a cloth had not reached it. He swept the tent flap back with an arm, and stepped inside.

again i do have to question, beyond the drama, how much of this is as intentional and petty as damen thinks it is. like, the heralds literally cite protocol, damen knows this is the correct way for a camp to be run. i think he is assuming a lot here, although it’s reasonable to do so. we have seen in the past that damen assumes things of laurent that laurent is just like, “uh. not everything i do is on purpose” about, or damen is just WRONG about. i just wonder if damen’s approach here confirms things laurent was worried about (damen thinking poorly of him now that they’re on even ground), further fueling the fire of his rejection-sensitive bitchiness. not that it’s an excuse, or even undeserved, but it’s good to remember that there are two sides to the story.

like to damen, this is an angry post-battle rush of a moment to confront laurent and speak his truth (he doesn’t know laurent knows who he is), but to laurent this is like. post-torture and escape, and basically being thrown into the deep end of vulnerability with damianos and what this all implies to auguste’s memory. we’re not getting the best or most rational version of either of them right now, which is great for the drama but also makes the narration less reliable

This was the place Laurent had chosen.

right. damen thinks laurent chose this place to hear the truth about him, because the “you have charcy” note implies that at some point laurent probably figured out that damen is damianos. therefore laurent chose this occasion for them to meet each other, as they truly are by birth, for the first time. damen just doesn’t know the twist that laurent has always known who he’s been, and has chosen everything else before now with that knowledge too

There were a few furnishings, low seats, cushions, and in the background a trestle table hung with its own coverings, and set with shallow bowls of sugared pears and oranges. As though they were going to nibble at sweetmeats.

the same guy who ordered the “sorry you were given a severed head and discovered a suicide” fruit basket in prince’s gambit had to order a “sorry i gaslighted you for 2 books but not really because you also technically gaslighted me” fruit basket in kings rising

He lifted his gaze from the table to the exquisitely attired figure leaned with a single shoulder against the tent pole, watching him.

lucky number laurent lean #13!

Laurent said, ‘Hello, lover.’

It was not going to be simple.

this being the follow-up line to “hello lover” is such a good combination of funny and tension-building. like laurent’s cunty tableau immediately put out damen’s fiery righteous indignation and now he’s just like “oh this is going to suck.”

He made himself breathe through that. ‘Your men think you’re a coward. Nikandros thinks that you deceived us. That you sent us to Charcy, and left us there to die by your uncle’s sword.’ ‘And is that what you think?’ said Laurent. ‘No.’ Damen said, ‘Nikandros doesn’t know you.’

this is really a testament to pacat’s cleverness, how in chapter 1 there are a lot of moments where it’s almost like damen is directly saying he thinks laurent screwed him over—nikandros and the herald saying it and him not disagreeing, him accepting the reality that laurent is not going to show up—but he never does truly say that he thinks the abandonment was on purpose. because he didn’t, and he doesn’t, which makes sense. but he’s still angry and confused and also just concerned about how laurent is taking the “news” that he’s damianos. how much of damen’s anger about laurent’s composed appearance is projection of his anxiety about laurent seeing him as he truly is, a powerful authority figure in his own right who just won a battle against insane odds?

it’s so ambiguously written that it’s almost like pacat WANTS us to spiral. which i did, and will probably continue to do, so well-played. these books are like evil catnip to anxious overthinking theater people with attachment issues and an interest in understanding complex fictional situations to cope with the fact that real life never makes enough sense. also kinky gays but let's be real that's just a trojan horse for the other stuff

‘And you do.’ Damen looked at the arrangement of Laurent’s weight, the careful way he was holding his body. Laurent’s left hand was still casually resting against the tent pole. Deliberately, he stepped forward, and clasped Laurent’s right shoulder. Nothing, for a moment. Damen tightened his grip, and ground in with his thumb. Harder. He watched Laurent turn ashen. Finally, Laurent said, ‘Stop.’

proving that he knows laurent well enough to pick up from his posture alone exactly where he’s been injured. also they’re both so messy, like let’s put pressure on each other’s literal and figurative wounds instead of just talking about our misconceptions and feelings, awesome

He let go. Laurent had wrenched back and was clutching his shoulder, where the blue of his doublet had darkened. Blood, welling up from some newly bandaged, subterranean place, and Laurent was staring at him, his eyes oddly wide. ‘You wouldn’t break an oath,’ said Damen, past the feeling in his chest. ‘Even to me.’

damen proving to himself, and proving to laurent, that he knows that laurent didn’t screw him over, and instead was injured and failed to show up. laurent is shocked by how quickly damen picked up on this. also ow

He had to force himself back.

he doesn’t want to see laurent in pain, or know that he’s causing it :( which is especially unfortunate given the conversation they’re about to have about damen murdering laurent’s brother

Laurent didn’t answer. He still had a hand clutched to his shoulder, his fingers sticky with blood. Laurent said, ‘Even to you?’

“you wouldn’t break an oath, even to me” (“even to me” being a sort of freudian slip, meaning “i killed your brother, and i’ve known that this whole time and i haven’t told you, and you have a good reason to hate me for that”) “even to you?” (to damen’s incomplete understanding: “well i know who you are now, and if i’d known before i would have broken every oath to you i’ve ever made”)

He made himself look at Laurent. The truth was an awful presence in his chest.

babygirl it’s about to get so much awfuller

He thought of the single night they had spent together. He thought of Laurent, giving himself, dark-eyed and vulnerable, and of the Regent, who knew how to break a man.

damen totally sees laurent as his “victim” right now, set up well by him re-opening laurent’s physical wound. damen fucked this man while knowing that he (damen) killed his (laurent’s) brother, and put trust in him. if they were normal, or this was a normal story, that’s where the confrontation would end. it would be that simple—damen didn’t mean to hurt laurent but still did, and laurent has to forgive him for that, and forgive himself for being fooled—and then it would get tearfully resolved because they love each other so much that it doesn't matter. but they are not normal, and this is not a normal story, so…

Outside, two armies were poised to fight. The moment was here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered the Regent’s constant suggestion: Bed my nephew. He had done that, wooed him, won him. Charcy, he saw, hadn’t mattered to the Regent. It hadn’t meant anything. The Regent’s real weapon against Laurent had always been Damen himself.

damen thinks the regent’s plan had been to weaken laurent by putting him in circumstances where he’d unknowingly make himself vulnerable with his brother’s killer, triggering him emotionally and destroying his judgment. i'm pretty sure that this was basically his intention, but had also made sure that it would also torture laurent even if he did recognize damen on the spot.

personally i think the regent knew that laurent knew in book 1 through observing his reaction, but had planned for both possibilities in advance. what he hadn't expected, though, was for laurent and damen to start genuinely working together instead of against each other. this happens early as the thing with patras, and really pops off during the botched assassination attempt.

charcy was meant to drive a wedge between them, to correct the regent's previous miscalculation. and given the inevitable truth damen must now reveal, there's nothing he can really do to stop laurent from being upset.

‘I’ve come to tell you who I am.’ Laurent was so keenly familiar, the shade of his hair, the strapped down clothing, the full lips that he held tense or cruelly repressed, the ruthless asceticism, the unbearable blue eyes. ‘I know who you are, Damianos,’ said Laurent. Damen heard it, as the interior of the tent seemed to change, so that all of the objects in it took on a different shape. ‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘I wouldn’t recognise the man who killed my brother?’

the way i YELLED during my first read. i remember even like posting something before, like “oh my god damen just tell him put this poor man out of his misery,” and then after i got to this part i immediately went and deleted that post

Each word was an ice chip. Painful, sharp; a shard. Laurent’s voice was perfectly steady.

do you think he practiced this?

‘I knew in the palace, when they dragged you in front of me,’ said Laurent. The words continued, steady, relentless. ‘I knew in the baths when I ordered you flayed. I knew—’

he definitely practiced this

‘At Ravenel?’ said Damen.

“you knew when you kissed me and let me fuck you????”

‘If you knew,’ said Damen, ‘how could you—’ ‘Let you fuck me?’ His own chest hurt, so that he almost didn’t notice the signs of it in Laurent, the control, the face, pale at any time, now white.

he almost didn’t notice the signs, which means he still totally did. because even now, damen is attentive and caring towards laurent

‘I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring,’ Laurent spoke the terrible, lucid words, ‘your fumbling attentions for that.’

LIARRRRRRR

It hurt so much it took the breath from his throat. ‘You’re lying.’ Damen’s heart was pounding. ‘You’re lying.’ The words were too loud. ‘You thought I was leaving. You practically threw me out.’ He said it, as the realisation blossomed inside him. ‘You knew who I was. You knew who I was the night we made love.’

tbh i think this kind of realization would make me have a panic attack on the spot. also do you think this is the kind of betrayal he’s been trying so hard to avoiding confronting, coming from kastor and jokaste? but here he has no choice to confront it, because laurent is forcing him to understand the depths of the deception. no avoiding it now

He thought of Laurent surrendering, not the first time, but the second, the slower, sweeter time, the tension in him, the way he had— ‘You weren’t making love to a slave, you were making love to me.’

very true, but laurent isn’t ready to deal with it. he can’t keep up the cognitive dissonance in the present, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to accept that it was real in the past. instead he’ll just lash out.

And he couldn’t think that through clearly but he could catch a glimmer of it, a glimmer of the edge of it. ‘I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d never—’

OF COURSE damen suspected, at some points, that laurent knew. but this tells us that he’d ultimately dismissed the notion because it would have been insane for laurent to kiss and fuck him, while knowing his real identity. “i thought you wouldn’t, i thought you’d never—“

this is similar to how i thought about it during my first read—i suspected for all of book 1, and some of book 2, but then figured that the story was taking a different direction because how the hell could the plot points of “laurent knows who damen is” and “laurent makes himself vulnerable to damen and does a romance/sex about it” possibly be compatible? laurent, a deeply traumatized and self-protective person, wouldn’t and would never. except i underestimated laurent’s capacity for self-delusion, and overestimated the amount of control he truly has over his emotions and impulses, beneath all the posturing. damen, here, is recognizing that he’s made similar miscalculations, and now he’s seeing laurent as he truly is. they’re both seeing each other, truly, for the first time.

‘Laurent, six years ago, when I fought Auguste, I—’ ‘Don’t you say his name.’ The words were forced out of Laurent. ‘Don’t you ever say his name, you killed my brother.’

i like the simplicity of this. just the plainness of “you killed my brother.” laurent’s language is so often clever and cagey and embellished, but that last sentiment is raw and informal, and what we the reader are probably screaming in our heads. because yeah, holy shit, damen killed laurent’s brother. it’s a pretty hard thing to argue against, or ignore. “you lied to me” “you killed my brother” “you flogged me” “you killed my brother” “you forgot to do the dishes” “you killed my brother”

Laurent was breathing shallowly, almost panting as he spoke, his hands rigid on the edge of the table behind him.

his practiced words are saying one thing, but his body is very obviously having a panic attack. this scene isn’t nearly as much of a laurent mean girl moment as it seemed during a rushed first read. that’s actually kind of a relief to me, bc it made me sad to interpret him as so heartless and unfazed the first time around. even if “hello lover” is an iconic moment, it’s a performance more than anything else. and pacat shows us this sooner than i recalled or first perceived. she’s not torturing us, the reader, as much as she’s torturing both damen and laurent. and it’s not even like a lazy misunderstanding kind of torture, this is genuinely complicated and they’re both in the wrong and they both are justified in this pain and hurt. i just couldn’t see that as well the first time, having binged like all of book 2 already and having no idea what would happen next and honestly just being shocked and betrayed and compelled by the massive mislead with laurent’s awareness of the situation

‘Is that what you want to hear, that I knew who you were and I still let you fuck me, my brother’s killer, who cut him down like an animal on the field?’

you know he doesn’t, laurent, that’s just what you’re telling yourself now that you’re forced to confront it. you started this scene with “hello lover” and your prepared speech, hoping to destroy damen emotionally, but once again you’ve just kinda played yourself. maybe just cool it with the emotional gambits for now, when it comes to damen, bc they only really seem to come back and hurt you (oh fuck he can’t hear me)

‘Shall I ask you how you did it? What he looked like when your sword went in?’ ‘No,’ said Damen.

laurent, shaking, pale, looks like he’s about to pass out: “you bastard, tell me about how you murdered my brother as i think about the fact that i let you fuck me in a similar way, go ahead just make it hurt more”

damen, not a therapist but still emotionally intelligent enough to know this isn’t really about punishing him: no, i don’t think i will. can you like sit down

‘Or shall I tell you about the illusion of the man who gave me good counsel. Who stood by me. Who never lied to me.’ ‘I never lied to you.’

that italicized “i” is interesting. is it an accusation of laurent’s own lying and hypocrisy, or a specification that damen never directly told laurent he wasn’t damianos? given damen’s well-established integrity, i’m guessing it’s the first option. again with the mutual moral arbitration. and damen wouldn’t want to take such a weak a cop-out as “well i never technically said it,” it’s just not typical of his character.

The words were awful in the silence that followed them. ‘“Laurent, I am your slave”?’ said Laurent. He felt the breath forced out from his lungs.

of course laurent takes it as the second option, though, and implies that by swearing himself to laurent and then bedding him damen was directly lying about his identity. because to laurent, damen =/= damianos. a slave can’t be a prince. so damianos, the prince, must have been intentionally lying about being damen, the slave. and that’s actually easier, and less painful, and less complicated to accept than any kind of nuanced alternative.

‘Don’t,’ he said, ‘talk about it like—’ ‘Like?’ ‘Like it was cold-blooded; like I controlled it. Like we didn’t both close our eyes and pretend I was a slave.’ He made himself say the exposing words. ‘I was your slave.’

he’s right. nothing much to add here. damen wasn't just literally laurent's slave, he had devoted himself emotionally as well, and he's admitting it here despite the fact that it makes him vulnerable—something laurent is too much of a (traumatized, understandable) coward to do himself. i love damen's characterization so much

‘There was no slave,’ said Laurent. ‘He never existed. I don’t know what manner of man stands before me now. All I know is that I am facing him for the first time.’ ‘He is here.’ His flesh ached as if he had been prised open. ‘We are the same.’

this gives us some insight to laurent’s actions in book 1—not necessarily excusing them, but making them fit better into what we’ve since learned about his moral code. it ties things together, which isn’t the same as making them simpler or easier to like. pacat is very very VERY good at establishing continuous moral ambiguity in her characters, and does not rush the slow burn of making ends meet. so when she does eventually begin to connect things, it’s satisfying, because it hasn’t been all been spelled out the whole time so readers don’t have to think for themselves. this, in reference to a lot of the series’s more problematic themes, is exactly why i think people end up seeing capri as apologism or glamorization. but by claiming that, i also think they’re exposing themselves as impatient, shallow, and (sorry) simply lazy.

but i don't just want to be reductive and uncharitable, because that would be shallow and lazy too. to be perfectly clear, i honestly can't blame people for disliking this series, and not being willing or able to have patience and understanding for its more problematic elements. this series is marketed as romance/erotica. it started as indulgent kink fic. it ended up evolving into its current state during its development—and i'm really glad it did, but that doesn't change the fact that so much of its marketing and premise imply certain things that it doesn't quite deliver. and if you look up the series today, as it's still being published years after its completion, it's still marketed in a way i find somewhat misleading. to the extent that when i picked it up, it was in an intentional attempt to expand my own horizons—i wanted to challenge myself with indulgent shameless problematic porn/romance, as opposed to the weak-ass "enemies" to lovers running rival bakeries gay romance novels with canva covers that haven't worked for me in the past. the logic was basically, "well, if i don't like romance on that side of the scale, maybe i'll like the opposite extreme, or at least learn more about what i don't like." and i did feel pretty challenged during book 1, to the point that for a while i only kept reading out of morbid curiosity and vague horniness rather than any genuine expectation of depth or satisfying storytelling. it was only around the assassination scene in book 1 that i started to see the book as something capable of more depth and intrigue than just like kinky debauchery, and it pretty much just snowballed from there. and as someone who frequently reads about these dark topics in other genres and contexts, i was familiar enough with the things happening on the page to at least stomach them and push foward.

however, if i was coming at the series from a different place—like if i loved cozy romance and had very little familiarity with reading about these topics—i can see the first book especially being very blindsiding and distressing, and not wanting to engage with it further. that's not laziness, it just means that the book wasn't for me.

and the nuance doesn't end there. one of the things i love most about this series is that, even if i was just looking for shameless slavekink porn and decidedly did not want to rise to the occasion of depth or thematic exploration, i would also walk away unsatisfied. because the truly problematic shit in these books is not shameless at all, and indulgence never comes without a cost. there are a few distasteful moments that make me roll my eyes, and the garden scene definitely prompts a Conversation—but as a whole, i think pacat is very aware of the moral implications of these themes. and i also think she's perfectly aware of the fact that many people get off on them.

this series almost feels like an accidental study of, like, the psychological implications of being a person compelled by dub-con and problematic kink, finding a sort of gratification in situations where those things ar kind of inevitable (like they are for damen in book 1). AND this is made even more complicated and brave by the fact that laurent is, very relevantly, a victim of serious sexual assault. like, as hot as some of the scenes in this book are, i really don't think it makes itself easy for people to just uncritically get themselves off to. it doesn't encourage shame, but it does encourage introspection. and a lot of people simply don't read erotica and romance to introspect. (couldn't be me though. if it isn't clear, i love the laurent of vere "having insane mindfucking sex fully clothed across the room" approach to eroticism).

i feel like it's actually kind of funny that i specifically got here, as a person who almost always reads books that force dark introspection, and assumed that this erotica/romance book would be mindless, but ended up with gestures vaguely instead. for me, coming across this series and realizing what it truly is was an incredibly happy accident. but for others, i completely understand how it could be the exact opposite, and it's not lazy or shallow to realize that you misunderstood what you were getting yourself into and step away.

what is lazy and shallow, though, is to either DNF and review based on those misconceptions, or keep reading simply to fuel your own disdain and discomfort. ultimately, i think that the true error of people who walk into capri wanting shameless porn or untroubling romance is the fact that they keep reading, even when it becomes clear that the book isn't doing that. and then they decide to evaluate the book based on expectations and standards that aren't the ones the author or fans have for the work itself. people seem to take out their anger towards the SUBJECTS of slavery or rape in fiction themselves on capri, rather then the way capri specifically portrays them. either because they fucking stopped reading the book and just wanted to go on a tangent on the topics in general, or hate-read to confirm their own pre-existing bias.

my point is, nobody has to read things that trigger or upset them, and it's okay to just pass on fictional stuff that makes you feel bad or frustrated. aspects of this series made me feel bad and frustrated, even on re-read, but i enjoy the intellectual and emotional exercise of exploring those feelings and better understanding the true meaning and purpose of the art. but there are certain topics in other works of fiction that i'm unwilling to explore, which would cause me to simply stop reading, and if asked for a review i'd just say that i'm not the right person to say. and there have been many times where i've continued reading a book, hoping it would change directions, and ended up just being like, "yeah, that wasn't for me," and moving on.

the exchange "there was no slave, he never existed" "here is here, we are the same" is almost a meta-commentary on the reception of the series as a whole. it would be dishonest to deny how this series started, and some of the themes and subjects it intentionally confronts. you can't say "there was no slave [kink], [it] never existed" because the narrative proceeded to be more of a commentary on kink rather than an uncritical display of it. kink, and dark topics in fiction in general, do all have depth, and while they might not be for everyone, they are for someone. exploring that depth is entirely optional, and i understand why people with certain experiences don't want anything to do with that exploration. but our personal tastes don't change the fact that subjects like slavery and rape exist, and that reality is inseparable from the stories that come from it. ultimately, the choice is whether we're willing to take that specific reality thoughtfully on, or else just walk away.

the people i have the hardest time with are the ones who choose neither of those options. like, what do you even get out of continuing to read something that you're unwilling to explore in good faith, or that you straight-up hate? just read something else. we only have so much time in the day. stop wasting yours, and stop wasting the time of people who actually enjoy the thing with your useless bad-faith criticism. sorry this tangent has totally departed from the chapter itself, but that really is what pisses me off so much about current-day online book culture. like, i'm thinking about all of those smug-looking booktubers making 2 hour videos called "i read [name of book that doesn't appeal to the lowest common denominator of people] so you don't have to." i know how long it takes to read books thoughtfully, and then to write, film, and edit videos. maybe stop wasting your own time and dig into something you love instead, or even try to make your own thing, and just hope that some smug asshole on the internet doesn't decide to do to your work what you've done to other people's work. but no, lazy cynicism and appealing to the easy gimmick of cringe is way more profitable, i guess. and it makes you less vulnerable to people criticizing work that came from your soul, because the work you're creating is completely soulless.

anyway. i wonder what kind of totally normal things damen and laurent are up to in the chapter i'm annotating

‘Kneel then,’ said Laurent. ‘Kiss my boot.’

"if you really are still a slave, even though we both know you’re a king, then do a demeaning slave thing right now"

He looked into Laurent’s excoriating blue eyes. The impossibility of it was like a sharp pain. He couldn’t do it. He could only gaze at Laurent across the distance between them. The words hurt. ‘You’re right. I’m not a slave,’ he said.

can’t indulge in the kink anymore by circumstantial necessity, but i’m sure they’ll find something even weirder to do instead on purpose

‘I am the King.’ He said, ‘I killed your brother. And now I hold your fort.’ As he spoke, Damen drew out a knife. He felt rather than saw all of Laurent’s attention swing to it. The physical signs were small: Laurent’s lips parted, his body tensed. Laurent didn’t look at the knife. He kept his eyes on Damen, who looked right back at him. ‘So you will parley with me as with a king, and you will tell me why you called me here.’ Deliberately, Damen tossed the knife onto the floor of the tent.

okay this is just extra of him, but i mean laurent got to do “hello lover” so damen deserves to be dramatic too as a treat. i also like what this symbolizes, as opposed to their previous knife moments. as defined by their stations, they don’t have a power imbalance anymore, and they don’t have a reason to be enemies. they are a prince and a king, not a master and a slave. they are military allies, teaming up against the regent. any power imbalance and beef they have now is emotional, complicated, and abstract, nothing clear-cut (haha) enough to be represented by an instrument of simple violence like a knife. and damen summarizes this perfectly, in the context of their previous knife moments, by viscerally reminding laurent of those encounters and then just tossing the thing across the room.

honestly, i bet laurent feels jealous of the clever performative gesture. and maybe a little turned on, too, despite the horrors. that’s a fun reversal.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Laurent. ‘My uncle is in Akielos.’

yeah, he got a really good all-inclusive deal at the akielion sandals resort and needed a vacation after all of the murder and [redacted]

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: A Pirate Booty Birthday (1/1)

Summary: She knew her soon-to-be former best friend had something up her sleeve. No way Ruby Lucas would allow Emma Swan’s birthday to be celebrated with a simple pool party. Oh, no. She just had to do something over the top. Something that would make this year ‘the best birthday ever!’ Something that would go down in infamy among their friend group. Something that Emma would find totally and completely humiliating. So, of course. Ruby had hired a stripper.

A/N: So, the other day a picture and video was posted on social media depicting our fave donning his pirate outfit once more in order to surprise a co-worker for her birthday. The post included a caption quipping, "The pirate they hired for our birthday party was actually really good", which caused many of us to wish we could hire the same said pirate for our bday celebrations. This, naturally, sparked a fic idea which I shared on the csmm discord and, well… you can probably guess the rest, lol.

Much love to the discord ladies and especially to @jrob64 who championed the idea so much she agreed to beta. Of course, seeing as it is her bday today, I'm also gifting this fic to her. Sorry it isn't the actual pirate, but I hope it is a close second! Happy birthday!

A shout out also goes to @kmomof4 who also gave this a once over for me😘

Rated T+ / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

A Pirate Booty Birthday

She knew her soon-to-be former best friend had something up her sleeve. No way Ruby Lucas would allow Emma Swan’s birthday to be celebrated with a simple pool party. Oh, no. She just had to do something over the top. Something that would make this year ‘the best birthday ever!’ Something that would go down in infamy among their friend group.

Something that Emma would find totally and completely humiliating.

So, of course. Ruby had hired a stripper.

A pirate themed stripper to go with the pirate themed decor and pirate themed drinks they’d been enjoying all afternoon and into the evening.

A pirate themed stripper who nearly had Emma swallowing her tongue when he appeared in Ruby’s backyard, decked out in head-to-toe black leather with artfully mussed dark hair, kohl-lined piercing blue eyes, auburn tinted stubble, and a devilish smirk that would make a mermaid swoon.

Holy hell and hot damn.

“Get your dollar bills ready, girls!” Lily called out, practically knocking Belle over as she rushed for her purse.

"Sorry, ladies,” the pirate crooned as he swaggered towards them. “I only accept doubloons.”

Well, fuck. He has an accent, too?! Emma thought, while silently freaking out. Damn, and it actually sounds authentic. It can’t be real, though. Right?

Stopping in front of their group, he cocked one hip to the side and tucked his thumb into his belt, perusing each of them with a sultry glance and briefly pausing when his eyes landed on her before addressing them all once more. “Besides... the only one allowed to touch the Captain this evening is the birthday girl. Perhaps one of you would be good enough to point her out to me?"

A half dozen pointer fingers immediately gave her up and Emma’s mouth went completely dry when a wide, feral grin spread across the pirate captain’s face. Seductively, he scraped his teeth across his bottom lip, then brought his thumb up to brush against the now reddened flesh. His eyes raked over her as she sat stock still in her red bikini and one of his brows raised cockily up his forehead. When he finally spoke again, Emma would swear his voice dropped an octave as he quipped, "I was hoping it’d be you."

Cat calls and whoops of both laughter and encouragement rang out from her friends, forcing Emma from her seat in the hopes of making an escape to the house. Where she could hide. Or wait for the ground to swallow her whole. She wasn’t picky.

With swift reflexes, he moved to block her path, his persona breaking for a brief moment as he gave her a commiserating look. It was quickly schooled and replaced by his Captain facade as he tutted, “Now, now, love. Heed your Captain.” Gently he led her back to her chair, encouraging her to sit before he propped a booted foot up on the end of the diving board. “Don’t make me force you to walk the plank. Just sit right there and take your lap dance like a good girl.”

He winked at her, causing another round of shouts and whistles and ‘atta girls’ to be yelled from her friends. Looking over her shoulder, Emma made eye contact with Ruby and mouthed, “I hate you,” but the effect was lost when the hysterical laugh she’d been holding back finally made its way to the surface.

“You love me,” Ruby mouthed back, blowing her a kiss before bringing up a music file from her phone to play over the speakers. Presumably, the pirate stripper had sent her his music when she booked him.

Which turned out to be the theme from Pirates of the Caribbean. Because, of course it was.

Emma hated to admit it but… the pirate stripper Ruby hired for her birthday was actually pretty good.

Very. Good.

Tantalizing good.

Toned and bronzed and sultry and commanding and wouldn’t-mind-blindly-following-his-Captain’s-orders good.

“Come on, Captain!” Lily shouted as he slipped off his suspenders and began to tug the smoke-like, gossamer thin blouse free from his pants, revealing toned abs and happy trail. “Hoist the mainsail for us!”

Emma thought she’d caught the beginnings of an eye roll before he turned his back to them, his hips gyrating and the muscles of his ass flexing beneath the tight leather.

A piercing whistle erupted next to Emma’s drumdrum. Tink practically had her fingers halfway down her throat to make the obnoxious sound. “Show us your pirate booty!” she drunkenly yelled before an unseemly snort escaped her from the self-satisfied laugh she let out.

“Forget the booty!” Lily called out salaciously. “Show us your jewels!”

“Guys!” Emma admonished, halfway turning in her seat to face her unruly friends. “Enough! Let the poor man do his thing.”

“I’d like to do his thing,” Lily shot back, vulgarly licking her lips then catching Emma’s hardened glare and silent reprimand to behave. “Spoil sport,” Lily huffed, poutily taking another large gulp from her solo cup, her eyes cutting back to the Captain who was being cheered on by the rest of the group.

“Sorry, Ems,” Tink offered with a sincere expression of contrition before being jolted to the side by Ruby who had refilled her drink and was now joining their little mob.

“Oh, come on, Emma,” Ruby said with a wolfish grin. “Tell me you wouldn’t happily walk that plank.” Jutting her chin towards the night’s entertainment she’d provided, she gave a whistle of her own, pointed down to Emma, then shouted. “Let her shiver your timber, Captain!”

Emma turned back around and her jaw dropped. Apparently, he’d been rather busy while her back was turned. He’d removed his great coat and vest early on in the performance, but now, gone were the blouse, boots, and leather pants, leaving him in nothing more than a tight, barely-there, black Speedo.

She couldn’t help but focus on the bulge he was currently thrusting in their direction, his generous size evident from the way the material strained around it. His hips swiveled and her eyes traveled up the happy trail of hair at his navel, the twitch and flex of his abdominal muscle mesmerizing her. As did the broad planes of his chest, dusted with the same luscious hair her fingers itched to run themselves through. Her final destination was his face and her breath caught at the way he stared at her, his attention solely focused on her gaze with his own hungry, predatory, wouldn’t-mind-making-a-meal-out-of-her intent reflected in his dark, ocean blue depths.

With a dirty grind in his hips, he swaggered towards them until he was right in front of her. Without warning, he threw himself forward, bracing himself against the edge of the table behind her. Arms caging her in as he hovered over her in an impressively held plank position. Emma had to grip the ends of the armrest to force her hands to remain on their best behavior, her bottom lip firmly tucked between her teeth, trapping a moan inside her mouth as his body rolled over the top of her, his breath - soft, sensual pants exhaling from his chest - ghosting across her face as his kohl-rimmed eyes stayed locked onto hers.

“Go on, Emma!” One of her friends encouraged dirtily. “Make his Roger Jolly!

“Show him where to drop his anchor, Ems!”

Another half-amused, half-exasperated look flitted across his face before he could stop it. He probably got comments like that a lot, had probably heard every bad pirate pun there was. The way he continued to stare down at her, though, his body grinding a hair's-breadth away from hers and occasionally making contact when his leg couldn’t help but brush against her own, made Emma think he might not mind them so much when they were applied to her.

Of course, that had to be wistful thinking on her part. Given how gorgeous and hot and limber and intense and - did she say hot already? - he was, Emma was certain he got his fair share of propositions from equally hot and horny women.

Emma practically whimpered when he rolled his body away from hers, instantly missing the close contact and feeling more flushed and keyed up than she’d expected to get. Bringing her hand up, she made an attempt to fan herself, but was thwarted when his hand caught hers. Tugging lightly, he encouraged her to her feet then wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her hips flush with his as he continued to roll, swivel, and grind against her body.

“Let the pillaging and plundering begin!” Ruby shouted.

A toe-curling chuckle rumbled through his chest and he brought his mouth tauntingly close to her ear, murmuring, “Your friends are quite the lively bunch.”

Yep. The accent was real. Fuck. Me.

“Yeah,” Emma replied a bit breathlessly, her body now moving in time with his as they finished out the track as though they were at some risque nightclub and not her best friend's backyard. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize, love,” he told her, dropping his arms and taking a step back.

Emma hadn’t even realized the song had ended, but her friends absolutely losing their shit with screams and whistles and applause probably should have clued her in.

“What say you, ladies?” he called out to the group. “Has your Captain delivered to your satisfaction, or is he to walk the plank?”

Once again, he propped his foot on the diving board and her friends - as eager to have him dripping wet as she was - immediately began chanting, “Walk the plank! Walk the plank! Walk the plank!”

Shooting them a wide grin, he hopped up onto the board but paused when Ruby called out. “Here, Emma! In case he needs some encouragement!”

She tossed a plastic, toy sword at her which Emma miraculously caught. Glancing up at the man, something swooped deep in her belly at the raised brow and smirk he was giving her.

“Do you even know how to use that thing, love?” he said in a teasing and mocking tone.

“Yeah,” she said, stepping up behind him on the board and pressing the plastic tip into his side. “The pointy end goes in the other guy.”

She poked at him with it again, urging him towards the end of the board, or… plank, and absolutely did not find his ticklish response at all endearing.

“What’s the matter, Captain?” she replied in a coy and coquettish tone. “Don’t like being jabbed with my sword?”

The Captain scoffed and turned to face her. “You call that a jab?” he shot back, and Emma gasped as he yanked the sword from her grasp, then used his quick reflexes to pull her into him before she even had a chance to realize what he was doing. He had her arms pinned to her sides with his tightly wrapped around her, the heavy bulge in the front of his Speedo pressed firmly against her belly as a smolder bloomed from his expression and deep crooning tone professed, “Trust me, love. When I jab you with my sword… you’ll feel it.”

Emma gasped as he threw them both off the diving board into the pool. Panic gripped her when she hit the water and began to sink. Years of bouncing around foster care meant she’d never learned to swim properly, so, on instinct, when she resurfaced, she clung to the Captain, wrapping her arms and legs around his body to stay afloat.

“Sorry, love,” he chuckled. “I thought we could both do with some cooling off.” Seeing her expression, which she hadn’t been able to calm yet, he held her a bit tighter and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, reluctantly pulling one of her hands off him so she could wipe the water from her face. “I, um… I just… I don’t do well with, um…”

“Bloody hell,” he cursed at himself. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry, love. Here.” He started to swim them over to the ladder. “I’ve got you. Just grab onto the rails.”

Emma did as he instructed, extricating herself from him so she could put her feet on the solid rungs of the ladder. He grabbed onto the edge of the pool and with little effort, hoisted himself out of the water, getting to his feet in time to come around and offer her a hand up the ladder.

“Emma!” Her friends exclaimed, rushing towards them. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured them, waving off their concern with her free hand, the other still tucked in his grasp. “Really. I’m fine.”

Ruby draped a towel over her shoulders then offered one to the dripping wet man next to her. Emma would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed when he let go of her hand and began drying off. She would have enjoyed watching the beads and streams of water sluice down his trim and toned body.

“Thank you, Miss Lucas,” he replied, stepping back from the gaggle of girls that had joined them. Emma could tell it was a prudent and deliberate move on his part, giving himself a personal bubble of space in case any of them decided to take the opportunity to get handsy. Sheepishly, he glanced back at Emma and offered once more, “My sincerest apologies. I shouldn’t have--”

“My fault entirely,” Ruby chimed in, turning apologetic eyes towards Emma. “I should have given Killian a heads up about you and the pool.”

“Killian?” Emma said, her eyes snapping back to the man who now had the towel wrapped around his waist.

Pity.

“Killian Jones,” he said, introducing himself as he bowed his head and offered her a boyish smile. “At your service, Miss…”

“Swan,” Emma reciprocated. “Emma Swan. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, trust me, love,” he crooned, steeping a bit closer into her personal space. “The pleasure is all mine.”

A symphony of sighs and squeals crescendoed around them and Emma’s cheeks heated at the knowledge that her friends were still hovering.

“Alright,” Ruby shouted, getting everyone’s attention. “This alcohol isn’t gonna drink itself. Who wants a refill?”

Emma shot her friend a grateful look as she led the mob back towards the tiki bar, giving her an opportunity to speak with Killian privately before he had to pack up and be on his way.

“Do you, uh… need some help collecting your things?” she asked him, tucking a wet, tangled strand of hair behind her ear.

“I can manage,” he told her, though he made no effort to do so. “You know,” he murmured softly, closing what little space remained between them. “I can help you with your… water issue, if you’d like.”

“My water issue?” Emma replied in an amused breath. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

An abashed huff fell from his lips and he reached up to awkwardly scratch behind his ear. “No, I meant… You seem a bit uncertain and slightly nervous regarding--”

“Yeah,” she said, offering him a lifeline. “I’m not the greatest swimmer. Never really learned how to--”

“I can help with that,” he said, cutting her off in an enthusiastic rush. “I mean… If you’d like me to. I’m a certified lifeguard and just got a full time position with the city to oversee the safety of the beaches.”

“Do you make this offer to every birthday girl you perform for?” she asked, a slightly accusatory tone underpinning her words, wondering if this were some sort of line he often used to get women.

“No, actually,” he said fervently, and without any hint of offense. “I’d given up stripping quite a while ago. I only agreed to do it because Ruby’s boyfriend, Graham, is a mate of mine from back in the day.”

“So…” Emma drawled, flicking her eyes up at him through her lashes, “you’re saying, this was a one time thing?”

“Aye, love,” he murmured, the two of them swaying a bit closer to one another. “After tonight, I’m hanging up my great coat and leather pants for good.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” she said, her eyes dropping to focus on the way his tongue ran over his lips. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that get-up again sometime.”

“Perhaps,” he rasped, his lips tantalizing close to hers. “I could be persuaded to give you a private showing sometime, provided it follows a private swimming lesson.”

“How’s Monday sound?”

“Bloody perfect,” he exhaled before crashing his mouth to hers.

If they hadn’t already, Ruby’s neighbors were gonna call the cops with a serious complaint about the explosion of noise currently erupting from her friends.

The End.

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

@jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter

@winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling

@exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

@jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd

@pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie

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@qualitycoffeethings @idristardis @phoenix-untamed

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

We May Have Gaslit Gatekept Girlbossed A Little Too Close To The Sun

You know why you shouldn't work late nights at an office job? Because you might become the new obsession for something in the shadows that shouldn't exist in the human realm. Unless you're into that kind of thing, of course.

Serena, unfortunately, wasn't.

--

AO3 Link

(This fic is broken up in 6 chapters on AO3 which may be easier to read for some! I was not going to spend an hour posting and tagging each part here on Tumblr lmao)

WE'RE BACK BABY!!!

Guess who got her little monsterfucker heart broken by an indie horror game and decided to write an obscenely long fix-it fic in under a week agaaaaaain (<- it was me)

Anyways, The Lancaster Leak Episode 2: Crisis At Call Center is very good and I encourage everyone to check out their series (: So hyped for Episode 3 lads they really stepped up their game compared to the first one!!!

Heavily, HEAVILY inspired by the storyline in Crisis At Call Center -- like almost beat for beat. I need to emphasis that this concept is only half original content and a majority of the plot is taken from the game, I claim no originality for that.

The formatting for the bolded note sections may be formatted kinda funky between Tumblr and AO3. Ain't much I can do about that chief it looks good on Google Docs /:

General warnings for gore and death and whatever you already know what I write

Word Count: 36K

--

FEDERAL WARNING

The following tape is to be viewed only by Abnormality Breach & Containment (ABC) employees with a clearance level of three (3) or higher under supervision.

Unauthorized duplication - including, but not limited to: video, audio, audio transcripts, still images - and distribution is strictly prohibited and offenders will be prosecuted. Agents caught tampering, destroying, or editing tape will be immediately terminated. 

BY PROCEEDING, VIEWER HAS ACKNOWLEDGED RESPONSIBILITY

–

CS# 1763-87 - ABNORMALITY AB299

Abnormality Behavioral Observation

Date Range: [N/A]

Observation Status: COMPLETED

Abnormality Status: CONTAINED

–

ABNORMALITY DEBRIEF

Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of darkened corner. No discernable shapes can be made by human eye. Abnormality only visible as two contrasting dots in upper-right corner – These are Abnormality’s eyes.]

FN# AB299

Threat Level: D 

Containment Capability: Low

Management Capability: Extremely Low

Intelligence Capability: Mid-High

–

AB299 OVERVIEW

Abnormality first sighted three months before successful containment. Abnormality has breached the facility a total of seven (7) times during captivity as of this recording.

Abnormality is of great stature at approx. ten (10) times the size of an average human male.

Abnormality walks crouched on all four limbs. Abnormality’s pitch black coloring allows it to blend in shadows aside from red-ringed yellow eyes. 

Abnormality is seemingly able to manipulate technologic frequencies and dimensional planes. The latter is believed to be how Abnormality travels unnoticed despite large build. 

Abnormality is able to interfere with the following technologies [as of this recording]:

Video Feeds

Computer Software [All Access]

Phone Lines

Note: AB299 unconfirmed to have abilities related to manipulation of localized power sources.

Note: Technological interference documented to be rudimentary and overall harmless. 

Abnormality only sighted outside of the facility when actively on a hunt. DO NOT ENGAGE DURING THIS TIME PERIOD.

–

THE FOLLOWING OBSERVATION TAKES PLACE ONE (1) WEEK AFTER ABNORMALITY’S SEVENTH (7TH) TOTAL CONTAINMENT BREACH.

CS# 1763-87 STUDIES NEW BEHAVIORS NOTED OVER A SIX (6) DAY SPAN.

–

Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of interior shipping office at WerTech Production Headquarters taken from Camera 17]

Location: WerTech Production Headquarters

Note: It is believed Abnormality chose this location to hunt due to wide corridors and tall ceilings, in addition to spacious attached warehouse and storerooms. 

ABC tracked Abnormality to site but did not engage in recapture protocol. Attempts at containment during active hunting are ill-advised with a fatality rate of 92%. Highest success rate of recapture achieved immediately after hunting period.

Under Clearance 3 supervision, ABC agents were permitted to observe Abnormality’s behavior in an uninhibited environment for research purposes.

ABC implemented the following observation protocol:

Phone Line Wire-tap

Computer Access [All Levels]

CCTV Access

Electronic Recording

Call Redirection

No WerTech employees were notified of enrollment.

–

Picture Left [ID - A young woman of African-American descent. She has dark brown eyes and black hair. She is smiling. Image taken from employee database.]

SERENA BOYD

Serena Boyd (26) was a college student employed at WerTech Production Headquarters as an intern for course credits. She primarily worked night shifts and completed after hour duties for additional time signed off. 

Abnormality seemingly selected her as prey, likely due to late hour solitude.

The following footage and accompanying notes document the unusual correspondence captured between Boyd and Abnormality. Updated overview for AB299 will be provided at the end of observation recordings. Future research of new and/or atypical behavior necessary and pending.

–

BEGIN ABNORMALITY BEHAVIOR OBSERVATION

First Day

–

Filing was not a difficult task. All that needed to be done was to stack the packets in descending order of completion date, or alphabetically by vendor name, or even separated with color coded labels to differentiate job types. The point was that it should not be this goddamn hard to keep files in any semblance of order for longer than a week, Gregory. 

Whatever. As much as it was the bane of her existence to have to repeatedly move order receipts from the Zuckermann account out of the filing drawer clearly labeled for names starting with ‘E-H’, it at least killed a full hour of Serena’s time with minimal effort. Besides, she quite liked the freedom that came with being in a near empty office past closing time while finishing up her menial tasks. She could hum, she could bitch, she could coyly look at her manager’s family photos and wonder just how good his salary must be to keep a wife that pretty smiling in every shot. 

One more week, Serena reminded herself with a sigh. One more week of unpaid overtime and she should have just enough hours completed for her internship. An internship that she accepted under the impression that she would, of course, be learning more about machine operations and less about how to draft an invoice that was outside of her job description. That was kind of the whole purpose of getting an extended degree with a trade concentration – to actually learn the trade. But it was her second to last course needed before she could graduate and…well, on her resume it would still say she completed her full hours at WerTech, it just wouldn’t elaborate that she managed to get absolutely zero experience in the ten weeks she was there.

It still counted as being fully certified though, right?

Oh well, she could learn all the useful tips and tricks on the job, the real job she’ll be qualified for by the end of the semester. A job that actually put to use all her months and years of studying and testing and cramming rather than wasting her efforts on clerical duties. Serena couldn’t help but wonder if her age or gender or race or some culmination was the reason why her manager insisted she work anywhere but the operations department. Then again, as demonstrated by the fact that Gregory thought an unsigned six-month contract was a great coaster for his coffee, it was more likely the fault of general incompetence. Good thing he was the one with the yearly bonuses and shiny title placard on his door.

She felt her back crack when she rolled her shoulders a few times, groaning at the stiffness from being hunched over for so long. Corporate America: destroying spirits and posture one 9-5 at a time. Or 9-8, in Serena’s case, though that was a choice of her own doing. The more hours she packed on, the sooner she could be signed off.

Speaking of signing off, she went ahead and mosied back to the cluster of cubicles down the hall from the managerial row. The common people, separated from their superiors with distance and private closed doors, with rows of desks jammed into neighboring spaces and flimsy walls to divide the departments. A place Serena wouldn’t wish for any damned soul to spend a moment of eternity in, especially her own, as it was just on the opposite end of the building where the computer hardware manufacturing was done. So close, yet so far away.

Instead, all she could do was drop into her hand-me-down chair that had about two decades of strange stains on the fabric and wake her desktop from sleep mode. A quick refresh of her email showed Gregory sent her a new message thirty minutes prior, which unfortunately meant she was obliged to check and carry out whatever his request was. Saying that she hadn’t seen it in time before she left would imply she had left earlier than she really had, cutting a full half hour from her overtime that he’d be approving on her weekly log. 

That was time wasted she refused to give up. 

–

[Email Transcript]

Sender: Gregory Jules

Recipient: Serena Boyd

Subject: Trash Run

Hey Serena,

Hate to be a bother, but can you do me a favor before you head out? There’s a cart out in Warehouse B with a few boxes of damaged motherboards the guys forgot to throw away. Can you pitch those in the dumpster so that we don’t miss the morning trash truck?

You rock!

Gregory Jules

–

“And this can’t be done by the first shift crew because…?” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes. Fine, fine, she could toss a few boxes of crap out back, it wasn’t like it was a job involving backbreaking labor and grueling hours to complete. She may not be thrilled about it, but maybe if she dawdles out there long enough she can squeeze an extra twenty or so minutes for her hourly log.

Double checking that she had her keycard in her pocket, she punched in the door code for the warehouse and pushed through one of the massive doors with a small grunt. Okay, as eager as she was to get her hands on a couple soldering tools, she couldn’t deny that the amount of manual labor needed out here was far beyond the physical strength she could manage, and these employees flung open boxes and bay doors like they were nothing! No, online application, she could not move and lift approximately fifty pounds as part of her daily duties. 

On second thought, maybe these boxes would involve breaking her back…

It seemed that good luck smiled upon her tonight in the way of simple yet mind numbing tasks. There on a two tiered rolling cart parked by a bay door ramp were the aforementioned parts she was asked to toss out, packed tight into rows of neatly stacked cases no bigger than a shoebox. The good news was, if they really all were just broken hardware, they shouldn’t weigh more than a couple pounds. The bad news was there were probably twenty boxes on both platforms of the cart, which meant she was going to have to throw almost all of them individually as the mouth of the dumpster would be too high for her to drop full armloads. 

Well, she said she wanted those extra twenty minutes. 

Immediately after pushing the cart outside, Serena was cursing at herself for not grabbing her sweater. The chill that racked down her spine only made the tense muscles in her shoulders ache worse. In and out, dumpster and back, finish and go home. The only person prolonging this miserable task was herself. Though perhaps she was only feeling so on edge because of the fact she was outside. Alone. In the near dark. As an unarmed woman. She shivered again and pushed herself to walk faster towards the dumpster that felt like it was half a mile away rather than thirty feet. 

There was nothing to worry about, she was making herself paranoid for nothing. The glow of the ‘WerTech Production’ sign illuminated the backlot of the warehouse enough for her to see, not to mention the security cameras positioned at nearly every junction to ensure no thefts during shipping and receiving hours occurred. So, if she was jumped or kidnapped or murdered or somehow all three of those things at once while being outside for five minutes, Serena could take solace in the knowledge that they may or may not be able to catch her attacker on film. Yippee. 

Christ, no wonder she was getting so worked up around throwing away some trash, she was her own worst enemy when it came to reassuring thoughts. What if, instead, she stopped worrying about becoming a television cold case and imagined a scenario where she finishes this stupid chore before going home? And then maybe she’d get a call from Gregory explaining that he had made some mathematical error on her time sheet and accidentally signed off on an extra forty-three hours? And because it was already submitted to her course instructor at the time, she was cleared to receive her credit hours and never had to come back to this place ever again or stand unguarded in their dimly lit backlots?

Her fantasy was unlikely, but it never hurt a girl to dream. Still, she gave a quick scan of her surroundings every few moments to reassure herself that nothing had mysteriously changed. No unmarked cars or headlights appearing, no hulking figure in the distance waiting to charge, just a chilled breeze and the ambient noises of the evening keeping her company. As much as she would love to stay in this half state of anxiety, she found herself all but jogging with the cart back to the safety of the warehouse before the final box had the chance to smack against the dumpster’s walls. For some reason, moving felt safer. Being stationary meant she’d be easier to focus on and attack, whereas keeping a fast pace would make it harder to snag. 

Assuming there was anything remotely after her. A mosquito, perhaps. Knife-welding boogeyman, probably not so much. 

And yet, the way Serena felt her heart stutter when her eyes caught sight of the property fence somehow validated and heightened her wariness. The tall, netted metal was used to block out any unwanted visitors of the human and animal kind, preventing access into the building unless they went in through the main doors to the reception desk or had a company keycard. There were a few locked gates within the fence to make it easier to enter or exit from one particular side of the building or another, and maybe something to do with OSHA standards for fire safety or whatever. Where Serena stood with her white knuckle grip on the cart, she could see straight down the gap between two shipping containers at one of the gates, despite it being blurred into the natural shadows of night.

And it was open.

And maybe she ran up the docking ramp at an impressive speed and slammed the door behind her, jabbing the lock button in rapid succession under the illusion she’d secured herself ten times more than usual. 

And maybe it took an embarrassing amount of minutes for her to steady her heart rate with deep breaths. 

And maybe afterwards, she mentally berated herself for acting like a child who was afraid of monsters in the dark. 

Where had this newfound apprehension come from? She’d never been like this before, and she certainly never had any problem with working late in an office by herself. Hell, she never even felt an ounce of this kind of nervousness walking out of the front doors to her car every night, although that could be because she was more relieved to pick up a late dinner and crash on her couch than she cared about an ax murderer in her backseat. 

Right, dinner. She hadn’t had dinner yet and it was already close to half past eight. These were probably just jitters in relation to low blood sugar, coupled with typical work related aggravation and excitement at being so close to wrapping up her internship. No wonder it felt like her nerves were dialed up to an eleven. On the way back to the finance office (that still made no sense for her desk to be there), she could buy a quick snack from the vending machine outside of the break room for a little pick-me-up. Or potentially a full dinner. The twisting in her stomach was making her appetite more finicky than usual and eating an entire cereal bar sounded pretty daunting right now. 

That still didn’t stop Serena from bumping the vending machine with her shoulder just as the metal coil dropped her chosen snack, slyly knocking the one behind it off the rack as well and giving her a two for one of blueberry whole grain breakfast bars. You learn a lot of neat tricks when you’re a starving college freshman that still come in handy as a hangry college graduate. 

She pocketed one of the packages and tore open the other, trying to trick herself that she was feeling hunger rather than agitation. Each bite was a little easier to swallow than the last once her body realized it was actually getting some form of nutrients that it had been craving since her lunch break at noon. Yet she couldn’t ignore the feeling of the hairs on her neck prickling, like she was being watched no matter what angle she turned herself to check for shadows.

So, she started walking, because moving was safer. 

The same sensation of being observed followed her no matter what hall she dipped into or what speed she tried to maintain. Hopefully, the calories of the cereal bar she hastily stuffed into her mouth would work their magic soon. She was damn near tempted to inhale the second snack in her pocket with the belief her unbalanced emotions would be regulated twice as fast. Instead, she ducked into the women’s restroom as soon as she caught it from her peripherals, the one private place she was sure she –

[Note: Full coverage achieved by use of hidden cameras in rooms otherwise unmonitored]

– could have a moment of peace. It worked that way during normal operating hours, she saw no reason why it couldn’t provide that same comfort now.

Her shoulders slouched in relief at the imagery sensation of a dozen watchful eyes finally shutting themselves. The thumping of her pulse in her ears faded just as quickly as it had begun, another sign of faux trepidation that was soothed in a matter of seconds once she settled down. With a deep sigh that was definitely not meant to help steady her heartbeat, she stepped over to the sinks and peered at her reflection in the mirror, bracing her hands on the cool counter to further ground her.

It was amazing how quickly unwarranted consternation could turn someone into a hot mess. Or there was a chance that was just how Serena always looked these days, a gradual decline in rationality after being temporarily employed at an office job. Her blouse was bunched up near the collar from where she had grabbed her chest, baby hair slicked on her forehead out of place by sweat and curls frizzy at the end. The bags under her eyes looked more pronounced, or was it that the shadows made them appear deeper while she overworked and under-ate? At this rate, she had every damn right to be stressed and it was only now that her body was finally taking it out on her. Late nights bred insomnia more often than not, meals were replaced with junk food or beverages with way too much caffeine, her eyes flickered between computer screens and files and textbooks until they watered.

She really wished this physical and/or mental breakdown would have had the decency to wait until the end of the week. At least then she could have suffered her panic attacks in the comfort of her own home with a bag of frozen peas on her stomach and the entire series of Overruled! playing for the millionth time as a familiar white noise. She still could, if she wanted.

Serena splashed cold water on her face, uncaring how it wet her hair and dripped down onto her clothes. It wasn’t like she would be seeing anyone when she walked out, it didn’t matter how unkempt she looked in the final ten minutes it would take to lock up the building and walk to her car. The touch felt nice on her burning cheeks, a contrast to the frigidity shooting through her core from being outside in the new spring air. 

“Okay, okay,” she said to no one but her mirror image. Leveling a firm gaze with the other woman, she tried to even out her voice into something more persuasive. “You’re tired. You’re stressed out. You’re so fucking done with this place. Just…just go home, girl. That’s all you gotta do. Go home and sleep and finish strong.”

She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince the reflection or if she was hoping the reflection would convince her. Either way, she took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly, and walked out of the restroom determined not to let her insides jumble themselves up over nothing. If anything, doing her rounds to lock up the building should provide her with a sense of comfort in knowing she was safe all along. Each locked door relaxed her a smidgen more, though flicking off the lights immediately returned the foreboding she just got rid of. Much like a parent, she had to console her inner child that nothing was going to magically appear that hadn’t been there two seconds before she turned off the lights just because it was dark now. 

Even if some of those decorative plants looked awful menacing in the shadows.

Luckily, the routine of triple pressing lock buttons and turning off hall lights was well ingrained in Serena’s mind, helping her breeze through closing up without much of a second thought. Before she knew it, she was already walking down the darkened main hallway back to her desk to clock out, her path illuminated only by the fixed lights of the vending machine and overhead exit signs. Sure, having her back to total darkness and the end of a long, gaping hallway behind her made her neck itch with the overwhelming fear of being observed that had no business being in WerTech headquarters. But as long as she didn’t turn around to confront her fears, it was like it was nonexistent. Schrodinger’s horror movie, in a way. 

No way in hell was she going to be sacrificed as the token black character. Serena Boyd was a goddamn final girl. 

[Note: Subject remains unaware of Abnormality’s eyes behind her. Abnormality does not close in for the kill, keeping distance in Hallway 3.]

Firing off a reply to Gregory’s email to confirm all requests were done and logging her time out at a quarter to nine, she was out the door and locking the main entrance while her desktop was still running its shut down screen. This time when she was outside, strangely enough, no feeling of dread weighed down her heart until it sank to her stomach. If anything, it was as if that pressure had been lifted off her back, alleviating her tension more and more with every step to the driver side of her car. By the time she was pulling out of the parking lot, the anxiety was completely gone, almost instantly forgotten.

The curse of corporate hell, she supposed.

–

END OF FIRST NIGHT

–

Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Abnormality’s eyes in darkened Hallway 3.]

Boyd shows no acknowledgement of Abnormality’s presence.

Abnormality choosing to prolong hunt is unusual deviation from previous observations.

–

Second Day

–

MORNING OVERVIEW

Abnormality has not been spotted on CCTV or by witnesses during daylight operating hours.

WerTech Production employees remain unaware, including Boyd.

Manufactured request anonymously submitted from ABC has guaranteed Boyd will stay later after hours in building alone.

Abnormality continues to pursue chosen prey more intensely. 

–

It took everything in Serena’s power to not lean over her manager’s desk and flick him right between the eyes.

“Custodial work,” she repeated back to him.

Gregory raised his hands in defense of her unimpressed frown. “Look, I get it, I know it’s not what you signed up for here,” she didn’t sign up for most of the bullshit he assigned to her, frankly, “but it’s just for tonight! And…maybe tomorrow, too. I’m not sure yet.”

“Greg,” she groaned. Because last night hadn’t given her enough heart palpitations, now she needed a migraine on top of it.

Serena didn’t bring up anything about the eeriness of her previous closing shift.

This time, however, her after hour duties couldn’t be helped. Gregory had received an email that morning reminding him that the company’s hired cleaner would be out the remainder of the week for a pre-approved vacation, so he would need to ensure the biweekly tidying of the offices were taken care of to prevent any build up of messes. Sure enough, that time had been blocked out on his computer’s calendar with a note regarding Gloria’s absence, but for the life of him he could not find any email or written document first notifying him she’d be gone. That absolutely did not surprise Serena in the slightest; the man was lucky his coffee mug could find its way to his mouth some days.

“I promise it’s nothing too bad. Just grab the trash from the bathrooms and conference room. Oh, and water the plants up front,” he said.

“Why can’t Julie water the plants? They’re literally in front of her reception desk.”

“Julie already went home for the day.”

“So, why can’t she water them when she comes in tomorrow morning?”

He blinked owlishly at her. “...because they get watered at night.”

Oh, her resolve was chipping away one stupid sentence at a time.

“Okay, yeah, fine. Fine, no problem. Trash and plants,” she conceded with what little sanity she had left. The performance review on her weekly log better have the most glowing fucking review about how much of a team player Serena was and how she went above and beyond her job description that already had nothing to do with her degree.

Her manager nodded with a smile. “Well, I won’t get in your way then,” he tapped the hefty stack of defunct account files on his desk. “Make sure you get these shredded first, though, then you can take it out with the rest of the trash. Just double check the close date is over five years.”

She rubbed the side of her temple. “Uh-huh.”

“And don’t forget to check your email in case anything pops up from me,” he said while shrugging on his coat, almost halfway out the door.

“Uh-huh.”

“Have a good night, Serena!”

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the man had a few more brain cells than she gave him credit for; he certainly knew when to get the hell out of dodge right when any of his workers seemed ready to overthrow the corporate regime. With Gregory leaving her to her own devices, she was now officially alone in the building that mildly perturbed her as of twenty-four hours ago. Well, actually, nothing about it had really bothered her all day or even leading up to her nightly run down, but it was as soon as she knew she was by herself, as soon as she instinctively knew the front doors had closed behind Gregory, did her anxiety start creeping its way into her throat.

She wished Gloria was here. Not only because this was a multimillion dollar business that hired custodians for the sole purpose of janitorial duties so that other employees didn’t have to mop and scrub toilets, but because the other woman was good company the nights when they crossed paths. It was strange that she hadn’t mentioned to Serena that she would be out when they chatted earlier in the week. Maybe she hadn’t thought it important to mention, or maybe it was one of those sudden trips that everyone politely referred to as a ‘vacation’ rather than whatever somber event she was going through. Either way, she would have liked to give Gloria a proper goodbye seeing as Friday was likely to be her last day once her hours were signed off.

She guessed she could leave a little note somewhere for her in lieu of a farewell, something she could stick on the supply closet door before she left at the end of her shift to be found Monday evening. And still, despite all her displeasure at having custodial work pushed on her when she was here as an intern for hardware manufacturing, it wouldn’t be right to take out that frustration on poor Gloria. It wasn’t her fault for Gregory’s poor planning, and ignoring or doing a half assed job only meant more work she’d have to make up immediately after her alleged vacation.

So, like everything else, she sucked it up and did what was asked of her. And it wasn’t because she was a pushover! It was because she was a compassionate coworker and she was determined to get every good grace she could squeeze out of this internship to ensure her recommendation letter brimmed with praise.

The monotonous task of opening each file, scanning the finalization date, and shoving its contents through the singular floor shredder a portion at a time helped distract her from the discomfort tingling down her spine. It was much less bearable almost two hours later when she had dumped all the minced paper and manilla folders into a black trash bag, stepping out of the safety of her manager’s office and into the vacant hallway. Partially lit, thankfully, but hardly any more comforting than if it were totally dark. A familiar unease twisted her stomach like before, urging her to leave go leave before something happened. What that ‘something’ was, her brain refused to tell her, which was ever so helpful.

On the bright side, the bathroom trash was almost entirely paper towels in both waste bins, meaning she could carry all her bags out to the dumpster in one trip with no struggle. Even the trash in the conference room was nothing more than a few disposable coffee cups, though the smell of stale drinks did make her crinkle her nose until she tied off the bag. All that was left to do was brace herself for the unknown terrors of the backlot and she could cross this off her to-do list. If nothing had happened last night, then she really doubted anything would try to –

[Note: Subject remains unaware of Abnormality’s eyes following behind her down Hallway 3. Abnormality does not go in for the kill.]

– make a sinister move that could have just as easily been achieved yesterday. Tonight, she made sure she ate a lunch that consisted of vegetables and limited herself to one afternoon energy drink, so there should be no excuse for jitters as far as she was aware. The fact that she was still experiencing them the entire speed walk down the main hall to the side exit was…unrelated. That was because of caffeine withdrawal and a shock response of eating something that wasn’t twice her daily serving of sodium. Regardless of what she tried to do, her body was hellbent on punishing her with physical symptoms of mental distress.

Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

She paused at the door that led to the dumpsters without having to cut through Warehouse B. The bags were gripped tight enough that her fists trembled while she shifted her weight from foot to foot, stalling. Come on now, this was ridiculous! If Gloria, a tiny little fifty year old woman with creaky knees, could run garbage out in the middle of the night for dozens of companies without a care in the world, then so could Serena. It was more probable that she’d be startled by a raccoon than –

[Note: Abnormality seen tilting its head in interest at Boyd’s hesitance. Sign of emotional intellect recorded in Intelligence Capability file.]

– star in the next episode of a true crime show detailing unsolved mysteries. All she needed to do was rip the bandaid off. With little fanfare, she pushed the door open with her forearm to let the cool air greet her, the night appearing much more inviting than it had prior. As soon as she was outside, everything felt less suffocating. She could feel the coil of her muscles relax enough for her shoulders to drop, having not even realized they were nearly hunched up to her ears for who knows how long. Maybe the outside wasn’t so bad after all, especially now that her body wasn’t running on empty calories for the sixth straight day in a row.

See, a semi balanced meal and an okayish night of sleep was all she needed to get herself back on track. The continued unease she felt inside the building was nothing more than the fact she wished this place would burn to the ground, as all interns feel at some point. During her walk to the dumpster, she caught herself checking between the shipping containers again at the gate that singlehandedly had her sprinting for her life.

It was still open.

Well…it could have always been open. It wasn’t like she came out of the building at any time of the day to confirm how long it had been ajar. There was a possibility that it had been left open since she had started almost three months ago, she simply had no reason to notice until now. The lock might be broken, or the hinges damaged, or the programmed entry code malfunctioning and so needs to be kept agape to prevent the gate from being permanently locked as a safety precaution. And if nobody had bothered to close it in the two days it had caught her attention, then surely it must not be a big deal.

It was all too tempting to say the hell with it all and jump straight into her car parked at the other end of the building. A quiet walk with a slight chill hugging her was just the thing she needed to clear her head as she shook her fear of being assaulted by every criminal in a ten mile radius. There was a comfort Serena hadn’t noticed she was missing in letting the night embrace her; the only thing watching her being the twinkling stars above rather than something unknown glaring daggers into her back.

As lovely as it would be to hop up on the docking platform and stargaze for the better part of an hour, she unfortunately still had things to do if she wanted to get out of here at a somewhat decent time. She had been hoping it would have been early enough for her to cook herself an actual dinner, but the cleaning duties that were tacked on to her schedule nixed that pretty quick. There was probably a twenty-four hour diner she could pop in somewhere around here, at least to eat something that wasn’t prepared in a microwave.

Plants. Email. Done. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head, trying to manifest the rest of an easy night. Instead, she felt her mood plummet the moment she stepped over the threshold back into the building, as if a vacuum had sucked out any serenity she had just experienced.

Plants. Email. Plants. Email. Plants. Email. Plants –

While her luck often felt hypothetical when it came to dealing with anything relating to WerTech Productions, she could count her blessings that there were only three large plants by reception she needed to water. Easy. It’d probably take her longer to fill up the pitcher she took from the break room as a makeshift watering can. 

“Because god forbid you get your water at eight in the morning, huh?” Serena asked the monstera she was currently watering.

The massive leaves did not answer, not even to give thanks. What jerks. No wonder they were so bratty about the specific hour they were hydrated. 

“Do you guys even get watered every day? That seems like something only Gloria would remember to do, and she’s not here most of the week so…” Talking to plants was not weird. Talking to plants is totally normal and encouraged. “I’d say you’re stuck with me for now, but really, you’re on your own as soon as the weekend rolls around.”

Serena smiled while watering the last pot, imagining that she was dumping the rest of the tap water on Gregory’s lap. “Because once I clock out on Friday, I am totally, one hundred percent, out of he- AH!”

The pitcher flew out of her hand when she startled, slipping on the fresh puddle on the floor as she whirled around to look behind her. She grit her teeth when she landed hard on her bottom, feeling her pants soak up the unpleasant wetness of water. Damp jeans were the least of her concerns as she frantically looked above for any sign of those…fuck, what were those, eyes? That’s what her mind was convinced she had caught a glimpse of in the reflection of the transom windows above the entryway. Two orbs practically glowing against the shadowed backdrop of evening that swirled with color, looking down directly at her in an unblinking gaze, wide with intrigue. 

But that was impossible. Absurd. Insane. Eyes did not look like that, eyes could not tower so high like that, eyes certainly were not in the same vicinity as she was or that would only imply something else was in the building with her. 

No, now the idea that it was something rather than someone only made her breathing come out in more ragged gasps. She clutched her shirt, feeling her heart hammering at worrying speed under her knuckles, like it was trying to break free from her chest and save itself. With the confirmation there had been nothing behind her, she whipped her head back towards the windows where she saw the reflection. What she assumed was a reflection, that was. Who was to say it wasn’t something peering in at her, as if that was any better than knowing it was directly behind her?

There was nothing in the windows but stars and street lights.

Right…right, because that was all unbelievable to get worked up over. Giant eyes, really? Like some cheesy sci-fi concept from the fifties? Obviously, she had glanced over while some headlights were passing in the distance. Or a plane was flashing overhead. Or a floater in her vision popped up as a reminder she hadn’t drank anything that wasn’t loaded with sugar in a stupidly long time. No Peeping Tom here with noticeable cataracts, just a girl with a frayed thread of rationality who may very well lose her mind in a place that barely deserved her patience.

Yeah, it was time to go home. Most of the water spilt had been absorbed into the backside of her pants, the rest of it would probably dry up before morning. Sorry Gloria, but this wasn’t any type of cleaning she had the wits for at the moment. She didn’t even bother bringing the pitcher back to the break room, opting to leave it on Julie’s desk. And hey, while it was there, maybe she could make herself useful and water the damn plants for once.

“Fuck me,” Serena said with a thick swallow, cringing how her jeans stuck to her thighs and chaffed with every step she took. 

I’m going to burn down this place and not even try to make it look like it was an accident. I want them to know it was me. Capitalism hath no fury like a woman scorned in the STEM field .

She didn’t bother sitting in her chair, knowing it would only add to the mirage of discoloration on the cushion. Not that she particularly cared about that, rather she wasn’t in the mood to sit in soggy pants longer than necessary. Perhaps because her heart was still coming down from the adrenaline overdose while she vigorously shook her computer mouse to bring her desktop back up, the unexpected jumpscare of an entirely red background on her home screen did little more than make her breath hitch. Apprehension turned to confusion as she clicked around on her background with no change to its new glaring color. The program icons were still there, but it was like the calm blue stock logo that was formerly displayed on her desktop had all of its pixels fried to a damaged scarlet.

That wasn’t good. Though from what she could tell, nothing else seemed unusual about her computer’s functionality. There could be an issue with the phosphors that was causing the red light to overcompensate for the blue. In theory, this would have been something Serena was perfectly qualified to diagnose and fix on her own had she been given the hands-on training she was promised to make good on her textbook knowledge. But she couldn’t, so she didn’t, even if she was fairly confident on what to do. 

Ignoring the glaring color that was making her eyes squint, her theory was swift to change from hardware error to software corruption when her email window pulled onto the screen. Of course, there was one new email from Gregory, declaring itself urgent and important and time stamped only twenty minutes after he left which meant he would know if Serena flat out ignored him by pretending to go home. Annoying, but not what immediately caught her attention. A pop-up window for an email draft flashed to request if she would like to save her work in the event the program shut down. Considering she couldn’t recall writing any emails within the last four hours on the clock, she dismissed the notification to skim through and jog her memory.

–

[Email Transcript]

Sender: [Empty]

Recipient: [Empty]

Subject: [Empty]

Note: Original email contained roughly 38,000 characters. Below is a cut passage.

sEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡asEren♡a

–

She blinked, pursing her lips. “That’s…something.”

Something she knows for a fact she hadn’t typed, much less received from anyone else. Crap, she must have some type of malware on her computer then. The virus was trying to make her home screen unreadable while pulling her personal information from her profile and email contacts. She was certain it would brick her whole system once it sent out a mass phishing email to her coworkers. Although, really, that wasn’t much of her problem if it was done after the end of the work week…

Still, she went ahead and deleted the wall of text and started a new draft to be sent to IT. If she was lucky, maybe they’d decide to wipe her computer tomorrow morning to stop the malware before it got any worse, effectively leaving her with no access to any of the databases and with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs on her last day. No, there was no chance she’d have that kind of fortune; Gregory would definitely make her do some type of asinine clerical work like taking out staples from expense reports and fasten them on the opposite corner.

Oh well. If she sweet talked Alice in IT enough, there was a chance she could worm her way into spending a morning going over debugging and system diagnostics for firmware while asking for a demonstration on how to fix her computer. Girls had to stick together in this type of industry, after all. And she knew damn well Alice had the best gossip of the office given that she had remote access to just about anyone’s system. Serena was dying to know if there was any follow up to the board director that was sending electronic payments to his mistress on the company credit card. 

After sending a quick heads up to IT that she was in need of their assistance ASAP tomorrow morning and pinky promising she hadn’t clicked any suspicious links recently, she checked to see what was so high on her manager’s priority list that he had forgotten all day to tell her.

–

[Email Transcript]

Sender: Gregory Jules

Recipient: Serena Boyd

Subject: !! Please read before leaving!!

Hey there, Serena,

Super sorry to wait until the last minute, but I totally forgot Jorge wanted me to grab last quarter’s Bangling order forms for him. Think you can do me a solid and grab those from the stock room? Just drop them on my desk and I’ll run them up to his office when I get in.

You’re a lifesaver!

Gregory Jules 

–

Yeah, he wanted to be the one to make the delivery to the executives on the legendary second level so that it didn't look like skipped out on the one job he was asked to do. Typical. At least it wasn’t anymore cleaning or shredding, just moving a box from point A to point B. She could deal with that. She’s dealt with everything thus far.

She might not be dealing with it well, but she was dealing with it nonetheless. Such as pointedly averting her gaze from lingering on any reflective surface for too long in case she saw someone stare back. 

But why would she think her night would improve in any capacity at this point? Was she so foolish to assume that because she had finished her duties that she could go about her life in peace? Had working here for ten weeks taught her nothing? The worst was always yet to come and it seemed in her final week here it was more determined than ever to sour her enjoyment of near freedom.

With an undignified hum, the lights cut out.

Not just the lights in the office, but apparently the entire building, plunging almost every square foot into total darkness. The red glow of the exit signs barely offered any solace and the security lights along the exterior had died as well, making only scarce moonlight peek through the windows.

[Note: WerTech Production security cameras are equipped with night vision capability. Cameras remain operational despite sudden blackout, indicating Abnormality’s involvement.]

Fantastic. Wonderful. Because Serena didn’t have enough issues last night about the unknown spooks hiding in the shadows. It must be a total power outage as the air was quick to grow stuffy without the vents circulating it. Unless WerTech forgot to pay their electricity bill, which…honestly wouldn’t be that surprising depending on who was in charge of paying that monthly. 

This wasn’t the first time the breaker had been tripped. It had already happened once while she was in the middle of her shift and Alice had told her plenty of other instances. Sometimes it would only be a department, sometimes it would be the whole place, and one time they had managed to cut power in HR while flipping the circuit back on for Warehouse A. Every time, the cause for the outage was due to (or at least blamed on) the technicians out in operations and assembly testing too many high voltage components at once. It was an easy fix of going to the storage wing and flicking the switches back on the breaker box, though it was much more of a hassle during work hours when everyone had to wait for their computers to reboot and pray they hadn’t lost too much unsaved progress.

There was no reason it should have tripped now. It wasn’t like she had every desktop turned on and all the power strips unplugged. Unless it had something to do with whatever little virus was in its beginning stage of crashing her PC, but that wasn’t how those things worked. Software bugs couldn’t secretly travel along the physical cables of a power source and knock out anything plugged into a socket.

…she should go check the breaker, just to be safe. She was too close to the finish line to have a blackout pinned on her. Not to mention, she still needed to email Gregory back for her hours. Maybe the hard restart of her system would help kill the program the malware was in the midst of running, too.

The problem was actually getting to the damn storage wing when she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her. Shapes were swallowed by shadows in such a way that even as her eyes adjusted, it was hard to tell where something jutted out and how far away dim outlines really were. On the bright side, her manager’s office was right down the hall from the employee break room, and under the sink cabinet was a bunch of first aid and shelter-in-place supplies, including a flashlight. 

She could only wonder if she looked as moronic as she felt stumbling around in the darkness. Her legs shuffled in hesitant steps while her hands stayed splayed in front of her to catch herself on anything in the way. She’d already knocked her shin twice on a waste bin and the edge of the copy machine in the hall, the second almost causing her to fall. As soon as she was able to press against the left wall, it became much easier to guide herself down a straight line towards the cafeteria. Excluding the grunted string of swears when she clipped her hip on the water fountain sticking out of the alcove near the restrooms. 

Oh, she hated this. She hated this very fucking much. The stifling air made her skin prickle with sweat, yet an ominous chill racked her to the core. Despite not being able to see in the slightest, all she could feel was that she was being watched. Every move she made was under someone else’s observation, making her irrationally self conscious of her already clumsy staggering down the hall. Like she was embarrassed that her final moments in someone’s eyes would give the impression that she didn’t know how to walk on her own two feet. Of course, if she was going down, then she wanted to go down with some dignity. 

There was no one here. It had already been established that no one was here but her and probably a couple crickets that always found a way inside from the warehouses. Besides, if she couldn’t see, neither could anyone else. Unless they followed the sounds of her tripping and groaning. God, it was killing her not to be able to power walk quicker to the breakroom, knowing she’d only guarantee herself to smack face first into an open door or something. The journey of twenty-some feet might as well have felt –

[Note: Subject remains unaware of Abnormality following behind her as before. Abnormality does not go in for the kill.]

– like a mile long trek with how much energy she exerted just to fumble through the doorway and paw at the lower cabinets until she could feel the bulky flashlight tucked away underneath. It clicked on with a stutter of its bulb, but a shake was all the old batteries needed to keep a steady glow. 

No longer surrounded on every side by darkness, Serena found it a smidgen easier to breathe now that there wasn’t the full weight of anxiety on her chest. It was still there, obviously, but now she had the advantage of seeing what obstacles were actually in front of her when the time came to have to sprint for her life from a serial killer ghost. The walk to the storage wing went much smoother thanks to the flashlight’s guidance. Now, instead of bruising her thighs that were still clammy under her wet jeans, she only had to nurse a bruised ego over the notion that she was still afraid of the dark at age twenty-six. Actually, she refused to take shame in that. The dark was goddamn terrifying and people who insisted it wasn’t were either liars or the nightmare entities themselves. 

At first, when she opened the door to Storage One, she was confused by the light that flickered inside. If it was a total power outage then it made no sense for there to still be a way that the overhead lights could work, even if the breaker box was mere feet away. That was when she realized the flashes of luminosity were coming from the breaker box itself, spewing out streams of sparks like a fountain on display. The spray of electricity crackled with each pulse of attempted power, burning the air with a bitter smell.

“Oh, shit,” Serena winced, taking an extra step back to avoid any stray spark. That was a little more difficult than flipping a few switches. Workman’s comp was enticing, but she quite liked her fingers to not be blackened stubs and for her heart to remain unexploded. 

Despite the illumination of the fried electrical circuits and her flashlight, it was too difficult for her to make out the exact damage that was done. The floor and wall was burnt from the flow of loose currents, yet there didn’t appear to be any type of surrounding destruction as far as she could tell. Damn, guess she was being forced to call it a night after all, which wouldn’t have been so terrible if now she didn’t have to call Gregory to explain the situation and possibly also a fire department. Then again, she did say she wanted to burn this place down to the ground. 

The universe was really testing her these days.

Not wanting to get caught in a potential electrical fire, Serena was quick to make her way back down the hallway towards the front entrance to leave. Or it would have been quick, had it not been for the fact she had to skirt out of the way of paper machines and rolling whiteboards and…wait. Had those always been pulled so far out from where they were normally lined against the walls? After all, that was the whole point of keeping them accessible but out of the way of everyone’s walking path. For all her shuffling in the dark, she didn’t think she had any problems with toppling over things that weren’t already affixed to the wall, aside from a few things in Gregory’s office when she chucked the box of order forms through. She considered if her sense of spatial awareness was better than she thought but, no, that side table of pamphlets was literally smack dab in the middle of the hall. 

Granted, it didn’t look like anything on the table itself had been disturbed and it wouldn’t be too hard to shove it back into place up front. But that was the problem; it was meant to be up front, around the corner between reception and the entry doors. Not blocking the direct footway. She didn’t put that there, it certainly wasn’t there when she passed through earlier to water the plants or she would have had to pointedly walk around it. 

So…how did it get there?

Actually, that was something she could let Gregory deal with when she called him. His files were pulled, the breaker box exploded, and also the furniture was moving on its own now – those were managerial duties, in her opinion.

Still, it was a bit cumbersome to have to maneuver around such bulky things while watching her step in limited lighting. What was the universe trying to do now: impede her route? Slow her down? Why did it feel like everything was so freaking persistent in keeping her stuck here longer than necessary? Even then, it wasn’t like these were very hard obstacles to dodge, not unless she had been running without noticing their strange rearrangement and being forced to pause.

“Sonava-!” 

She had been so transfixed on the stupid side table that she completely missed where her foot was stepping, sending her sprawling on her knees when her leg slipped from under her. A shot of pain ran up her elbows from where they took the brunt of her upper body, mellowing into a dull throb seconds later. Sure, she had already fallen flat on her ass today, she may as well let her front take a bit of abuse, too.

Gripping the flashlight that had almost rolled out of reach when she landed, she shined it behind her legs to see what she could have possibly slid on. It wasn’t water, she was plenty familiar with that sensation already. It was…

Cereal bars?

A glance next to the impressive pile of whole grain snacks revealed the vending machine, powered off but missing an entire row of treats. Another look at the mound confirmed they were, indeed, the snacks that were meant to be stocked. A couple toaster pastries, quick breakfast nibbles, including the same snack she had gotten herself two of yesterday to serve as dinner. Actually, she had only gotten the ones with blueberry filling, whereas it looked like the machine was happy to spit out other four flavor options as well to add to its disposed horde.

The weird surge probably had something to do with the vending machine dispensing things at random. Tempting as it was to shove a bunch of free food in her arms and call it a successful grocery haul, there was no way Serena could get away with taking what had to be a hundred dollars worth of cheap snacks without anyone noticing. And really, right now, she wasn’t much in the mood to stick around and have a bite to eat. She wanted to go home, change her clothes, and maybe prevent WerTech Productions from being a smoldering shell by opening hours.

“What the hell is wrong with this place?,” she mumbled. She couldn’t walk fast enough out the front doors, not bothering to lock it behind her. The sigh she blew into her hands was more pained than she wanted to admit. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

She swore her car headlights against the showroom windows looked just like eyes as she drove away.

–

END OF SECOND NIGHT

–

Picture Left: [ID - CCTV still frame of Hallway 3 cluttered with moved furniture.]

Abnormality’s hunting behavior has taken unprecedented deviation from previous encounters.

Abnormality has chosen to stalk prey without engagement despite ample opportunities. 

Because the power outage was confirmed to be the result of Abnormality’s abilities, continued usage of property’s CCTV camera footage was unexpected. This implies

Abnormality is aware it is being observed with its prey and allowed it OR

Abnormality is also using CCTV to track Boyd

Abnormality has also used technological interference to direct attention at Boyd.

See: 

Email consisting only of Boyd’s name and hearts

Collection of food previous seen eaten by Boyd

Despite unusual occurrences, Boyd appears to remain unaware of Abnormality and reports findings as an electrical blow up. This is accepted to be fact by WerTech Production superiors.

–

AB299 Behavioral Theories

New theories regarding Abnormality’s shift in hunting practices have been noted to include the following:

Note: Ranked by likelihood

Savor Theory - Abnormality is intentionally causing psychological distress to prey as a way of toying with its food; it is beginning to take pleasure in the hunt rather than relying solely for survival means.

Courtship Theory - Abnormality is displaying interest in affection towards prey in an attempt at reciprocation; rejection of courtship will likely result in prey’s demise.

Enrichment Theory - Abnormality is not actively on a hunt; instead it is showing signs of new emotional threshold by harmless playing; prey likely to be killed once game is over.

Theories to be revised as more information is gathered from subsequent observations.

–

Third Day

–

“A break in? Are you kidding me right now?”

“Hey, okay, lower your voice, alright?.”

“No. No, you cannot just come up here and tell me you think we had a goddamn break in–”

“I mean, we don’t know for sure…”

“- when I am here alone, every night, no protection –”

“I get it, I totally get you–”

“- fighting for my freaking life–”

“Look, let’s just,” Gregory took an exaggerated breath, hoping Serena might mimic his attempt to calm down. The twitch of her eye said otherwise. “take a breather.”

“Sure, yeah, because apparently it might be my last,” she said.

Her manager had the decency to wait until the end of the day during their performance talk to drop the bomb on her that last night’s strange happenings may have been the result of an attempted robbery. This was done, naturally, when everyone else had already left to enjoy their weekend and weren’t around to hear Serena’s outrage. 

When she had come in that morning, the power had been restored and everyone was abuzz with new rumors about some mysterious fire that nearly torched all of their outlets. Some jokingly lamented that they wished the system had stayed fried so they could enjoy a three-day holiday. Others were pissed that their computers had to be manually restarted and lost whatever data they had pulled up in sleep mode. None of them had asked Serena if she knew anything about what happened despite always being the last one in the building, unknowing that she was the one who had to walk Gregory through the steps of calling a fire marshal and scheduling an on-call electrician to come out before opening shift. 

All she had been told by him soon after she arrived was that everything was hunky dory now besides the fact that the breaker box was severely damaged and barely fixed and one overloaded circuit might cause the whole thing to blow. But other than that, there was nothing too major to worry about.

Except now, because of the clear tampering around the busted and scorched metal, the slashed wiring, the unexplained decoration of appliances that had since been moved back to their original positions. Random electrical malfunctions were a rare but not unheard of occurrence. The signs around this one, however, seemed to be intentional. 

She wondered if Alice had known about these new suspicions. The technician hadn’t mentioned anything about it while she sat next to her and wiped her computer’s internal harddrive as a precaution against the virus. All she got out of her was a side eye when Serena tried to convince her she hadn’t downloaded anything from a shady website and a tidbit that one of the call center girl’s didn’t know browsing history was logged until she had to explain a few interesting searches to IT when deleting her cookies. She should just be thankful no one was trying to point the finger at her for somehow being involved as a vindictive employee hellbent on torching her way out of here. That wasn’t an additional comment she wanted added to her weekly log.

“I’m only telling you about this so that you won’t worry,” Gregory explained.

She cupped the hollow of her cheeks in the palms of her hands. “Greg. How…is that meant to make me not worry?”

He shrugged. “Because we don’t know if it really was a burglary or not! The cameras got all screwy during the outage.”

[Note: WerTech Production archived footage was wiped after Boyd’s departure on second day. ABC’s taped live recordings were untouched in facility’s database. Abnormality is purposely hiding its tracks.]

“And if there was?” She pressed.

“Then they probably won’t be back,” he assured her. “We’ve done some stock recounts and nothing looks to be missing so far. If it was anybody, it looks like they thought it was a bust.”

“You’re killing me,” she said, cutting him off before he could try to soothe her again. “No, really, you’re killing me. You’re signing me up for a death trap.” She threw her hands up in the air, if only to keep herself from wrapping them around his neck. “Probably? Probably? Or, how about this, they come back now that they’ve cased the place and know I’m here by myself defenseless. What do you think is going to happen then, Greg? I can tell you what I think is going to happen.”

Gregory shook his head. “No, no, I hear you, I got it, trust me. I’m on your side! I know that’s gotta be pretty scary for a young girl like yourself. I can’t imagine what it must be like in your shoes.”

“...but?”

“...but, we’ve taken some extra precautions for tonight, just for you.”

She rolled her eyes and flopped back in her chair, sinking into the leather with a groan. “I’m flattered.”

“I’m serious, Serena, I really do take your safety as a priority,” he said in such an earnest tone that she softened her glare just a fraction. “We’ve got security on site the entire time you’ll be here, even to walk you to your car. Cameras are good to go again. I already had Ops lock up all the access doors so that you don’t need to check them, just lock up the front like you normally do on your way out.”

That was all…pretty reasonable. For once, the stress uncoiled from her body at Gregory’s words, a personal best in the entire three months they’ve worked together. Her visible relief must have eased his own worries, thankful she didn’t want to escalate the issue any further in a way that might involve board directors and/or legal fees. Relief may be too strong of a word; more like the same type of acceptance when dealing with the five stages of grief.

“Real easy job tonight. Just need you to print out the stock count sheets I emailed you earlier and check that they’re in the right bins out in Warehouse B. You can take Ted with you if you don’t want to be alone, or y–”

Brown eyes that had been closed in resignation flew open to look at her manager. “Ted?”

He paused. “Yeah, Ted…the security guard? You’ve had to have met him, right?”

Of course, almost every woman in the office knew Ted. They knew him because he was a weird little creep that ogled a bit too much at the monitor feeds and had the social awareness of a rock. Guys thought he was such a jokester, ladies thought he had no business telling them how great that skirt looked from the back when the cameras captured them leaning over a filing cabinet.

Would you believe me if I told you he got caught with his hand down his pants once? Alice had asked during one of their mini gossip breaks. Serena scrunched her face in disgust, asking if that was true and praying that it wasn’t, but the other woman only shrugged with a smirk.

I dunno, but you believed it, so what does that say about him? She said.

“Why Ted?” she asked instead. “Why not Allen? Or Jodie?”

Gregory frowned, the furrowing of his brow matching hers. “He was the only one available for after hours on short notice. Why, what’s wrong with Ted?”

A lot of things, even if most of it was hearsay. The fact that so many women had so many consistent stories about him was more than enough evidence for any of them. Except for HR and anyone higher up on the ladder, who apparently wanted fifty pages of proof that Ted had physically acted inappropriately to combat the dozens of complaints against him. It was an argument Serena was sure her manager had already heard plenty of times before, and tonight would not be the night he miraculously changed his tune.

Ted was all she had in the way of personal security, otherwise she was on her own. Despite it being really, really inviting to stay by herself instead of having to share any type of close quarters with him. Did she think he would try to pull anything…violent on her? No, but, she definitely couldn’t be too careful. And even if he was proven to be totally harmless, spending the evening getting leered at and given unwarranted ‘compliments’ was not her ideal way to spend a Friday night, much less in a professional work environment that was dead set on turning half her curls gray.

If nothing else, she can always sacrifice him to give herself a running start should anything start to go bump in the night.

“Nothing, he’s…fine,” she grumbled. The way she crossed her arms was reminiscent of a pouting child. 

“Hey, listen, it’s only for one more night,” Gregory said. “I know you’ve gotta be excited to fly the coop and get out there in the real world. After tonight, you’ve got a whole slew of opportunities to look forward to.” He was right, almost encouraging, like a real manager. “Don’t give up while you’re in the homestretch. You can stick it out for a couple hours, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah! So don’t let these kinds of things bum you out; you should be pumped! You’re done after tonight, girl, you get to party over the weekend like a real college graduate!”

God, Gregory was so painfully in his late forties. She could still appreciate his attempt at a relatable pep talk, even if it made her inwardly cringe rather than motivated her.

“One more night,” she sighed in agreement. “I can do this.”

“You can do this!”

“...okay, well, I’m going to go do it then,” Private rallying over, she bid him a goodnight while he rambled on about how proud he was of her, how much he was going to miss having a free spirit like her in the office, to keep in touch, that he’ll get her final hours submitted to her professor over the weekend, not to hesitate to reach out if she needed a job reference or even a formal interview to become salaried at WerTech –

For all his airheadedness as a manager, Gregory really wasn’t too bad of a guy. She most definitely was not going to take him up on his offer to stay in contact, though. 

It felt weird in some way, knowing this was the last time she’d be plopping down in her dingy swivel chair at a desk in a department she had no business being in, turning on a computer that had already had most of her work expunged aside from her login. She couldn’t say that she’d miss this place, certainly not after these last few nights of pandemonium, but…it wasn’t all bad. Mostly bad, but not always, and usually not outright terrible. She really was on her way to become a bonafide computer engineer if she had lowered the bar this far down when ranking what a decent job was like.

Just as she was reaching for her mouse to pull up the email she needed to print, her hand bumped against something that hadn’t been there previously. A blueberry whole grain cereal bar, courtesy of the vending machine outside the office. It wasn’t hers; she hadn’t bought anything today, which meant someone must have left it on her desk between the time it took to finalize an EOD request and have her enlightening chat with Gregory.

Ted. It had to be Ted. There was literally no one else it could be because he was the only person accounted for staying late besides her. He’s probably seen her eating the same snack as a shoddy meal substitute more times then she’d care to admit. What was this meant to be – a peace offering, an attempt at flirting? If it were anyone but the security guard, she might have been a touch peeved that such a simple act stole her heart. To know that someone paid attention to the little details about her and rather than judging her pisspoor diet, offered her a bonus treat to make sure she ate.

But, it came from Ted, and Ted could choke for all she cared.

The churning in her stomach insisted that it didn’t matter who it was from so long as she stuffed it down her throat posthaste. She was hungry, having skipped lunch in favor of an iced coffee to secure that hour towards her final count. This had to be some endeavor to butter her up, maybe to act like he had treated her to dinner so that he could insist she owed him a favor in return.

Fuck it. Serena was starving and this dry cereal bar she was only a little bit sick of was the best thing she had seen all day. If Ted tried to pull anything funny with her over it, she could shove the two dollars and fifty cents in his face for an equal exchange. Stale whole grain and artificial blueberry preservatives had never –

[Note: Following Courtship Theory - Subject’s approval for Abnormality’s offering believed to be taken as agreement towards advances, becoming the catalyst for later events.]

– tasted so good.

She was halfway done with the snack by the time the printer had finished spitting out her count sheets. Warm paper held to her chest, a pen tucked behind her ear, she crammed the last two bites into her mouth and crumpled up the wrapper to throw it away on her way to the warehouse. Just as she was about to turn the corner for the double doors, she saw the familiar black security jacket slink out of the breakroom to follow after her. She wondered if he could feel the displeasure rolling off her the mere moment he existed within her bubble. He was probably used to that.

“Hey, Sierra!” he called to her, quickening his pace to catch up with her determined speed walk.

“It’s Serena.”

“Right, right, sorry,” he laughed. “We haven’t really spent a lot of time together, is all.”

And she would have liked to have kept it that way. 

Her lack of a response did not deter him from having a one sided conversation. “So, Greg told me today was your last day?”

“Hopefully.”

“That’s crazy, it feels like you just got here.”

“Feels like it’s been ten weeks to me.”

“Did they throw you a party?”

“No.”

“Did they get you a card or something?”

“No.”

“Well hell, did they do anything for you?”

No. Really, she was fine with that. She was sure a majority of the people here would miss her the same amount as she would miss them, which was next to nothing. She was only an intern after all, not even stationed in the correct department or working alongside anyone that could be considered a mentor. There was no reason to mourn her scheduled departure. Frankly, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stomach the fake smiles and overly saddened coworkers crowding around her in the breakroom had they decided to host a farewell luncheon in her honor anyways.

Although, she wouldn’t have turned down a free cake.

“You know, I could always take you out somewhere,” Ted shrugged, trying to play it like a nonchalant offer. “It’s not right to have no one celebrate you on your last day.”

She rolled her eyes and entered the door code. “I can celebrate by myself at home, thanks.”

The guard gave her a cocky grin, an attempt to pull some sort of boyish charm he was too old to use. “C’mon, let me treat you to a couple drinks after this.”

With a strained smile that didn’t reach her eyes, Serena shoved the wadded up wrapper from her cereal bar at Ted’s chest, who caught it in surprise. Or maybe he was just shocked by a woman’s touch. 

“You already treated me to dinner, that’s about as much as I can take,” she said.

He blinked as she pulled open the door to Warehouse B and slipped inside. “Huh? What do you – I didn’t…”

His voice trailed away from her ears when the door shut between them, muffling whatever backup plan he was surely going to try on her next. Faintly, she could hear his muffled see you on the cameras, then as she walked off down to the shelving racks she needed to check off. She couldn’t help the roll of disgust in her stomach that didn’t settle well with her pathetic dinner, though she didn’t think it would have mattered if she was full or not. The idea alone of Ted watching her every move through the CCTV at the direct order of her manager made her skin crawl. But at least he was several rooms away with many doors between them, allowing him to keep his skeezy thoughts to himself on the other end of the video feed.

The inventory she was asked to count wasn’t too difficult to handle. The guys and gals out here kept the bins organized to perfection under their shockingly competent warehouse manager. Everything was in its assigned place, clearly labeled, marked with daily quantities at the end of each shift to keep track of so many moving parts. Again, Gregory, a filing system is not that hard to maintain. Checking off if pallets were stacked in the correct location and how many GPUs were in each shipping box was the easiest task she’d done all week. Hell, being this close to actual manufacturing parts was the closest she’d gotten to doing what her degree was intended for the entirety of her internship.

As quickly as she was breezing through these stock sheets, she was glad she gave up her lunch hour to go towards her weekly log. She wasn’t sure this would take her any more than forty-five minutes to finish. Of course, because she’s such a thorough and dedicated employee that should be hired anywhere she applies, she could always go back and double check her counts. For absolute accuracy, certainly not to stretch out an easy hour and a half. She wouldn’t want to miss a single solid-state drive and throw off their supplies.

She was counting a box of coolant jugs for the third time when her hand froze mid pen stroke. All at once, it was as if her body drenched in dread, an icy shock dumped over her head like a bucket of water. Her back stiffened, forcing her to square her shoulders and stand at full height.

Someone was watching her.

No shit someone was watching her, that was the whole point of Ted being on duty with her. However, the ick he normally gave her was nothing compared to the way her heart started to rabbit out of the blue. Her pulse was roaring in her ears, drowning out her thoughts in favor of panic for no discernable reason. Every labored breath was forced through her nose to prevent herself from hyperventilating. Her feet refused to move to turn her around and see what might be the instinctual cause for her bout of anxiety this time. Never before had she considered herself someone with a panic disorder, but the constant flare ups this week were starting to become alarming. 

Chances are, Ted was glued to watching her backside from the security cameras positioned around the warehouse aisles. If there really was someone or any reason that she would be in immediate danger, he would have alerted her by now. He was a creep and a weirdo, but he was still a qualified security guard. She was sure he’d love nothing more than to burst in and play the role of a macho hero who more than earned an evening with the fair maiden he rescued.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine,” she whispered, balling her hand into a fist to help direct her tension somewhere she could control. “No one here but you. You and the terminal casings.”

An overhead light popped behind her. The sound of crackling acrylic jolted her from her rigid posture to whirl around for the source. Further down the deep row of the rack aisle, one of the ceiling lights flickered before dying from a voltage overload. She stared up at the fixture in puzzlement, vaguely wondering what could have caused it to blow out so unexpectedly. Right, Gregory had told her that the breaker box had been fixed as best it could for the time being, but it was treading a fine line between operational and shorting out. A random current was probably redirected through the wiring and overloaded the fluorescent tubes.

Then the lights next to it sputtered and blew out, casting a deep shadow at the end of the aisle. Another fixture fritzed, then another, and suddenly the darkness was rapidly approaching her down the row ready to swallow her in pitch black.

She couldn’t focus on anything but turning on her heel to dash away from the encroaching shadow. The lights burned bright until they burst into sparks in quick succession, trailing behind her sprinting form at an alarming pace. Almost as if it was determined to close the distance that had previously been between them, to pull her in just as it had fully encompassed her last night despite its suffocating grip. Could Ted see her fleeing for her life from the pursuing shadows, or had the cameras in the warehouse already gone offline in tandem with the localized blackout? Should she bother trying to scream for help? What good would that do besides embarrass her once she could see past her irrational fear? Or worse, what if help –

[Note: Though Subject is fleeing in distress, she makes no acknowledgement of Abnormality’s hand reaching for her.]

– came too late? 

Serena slammed her shoulder into the access door, dropping her papers to scatter on the floor and frantically wiggle the handle in a desperate attempt to get through. She had forgotten that Ops already locked up the outside doors for the night in what was meant to be a gesture to make her feel safer in the building. But she didn’t want to be in the building, she wanted to be out out get out go get OUT–

“Open, open, please,” she panted. Fumbling fingers swiped her keycard against the reader over and over until the magnetic strip made enough contact. The beeping lock was lost in the static that rumbled between her ears, only focusing on twisting down the knob and flinging open the door before the last light of the aisle could plunge her into darkness.

The door swung shut behind her with a heavy bang, sealing the shadows within. Her hands shakily gripped the railing along the ramp. Cool metal against her palms felt wonderfully grounding, giving her fingers something to squeeze until her nails dug into her skin. It was cold and it stung, but it wasn’t enough to fully shake the despair that clung to her heart. Each exhale was a ragged pant, gradually smoothing into a deeper breath as she calmed down. The outside was also dark, arguably darker than Warehouse B who had only lost one row of lighting, but it was just…safer. The security floodlights, the neon signs, the stars, the openness – it soothed her frantic thoughts in a way she couldn’t describe. 

Just what the hell was any of that? One minute she was fooling around with pallets, the next she was acting like a doomed gazelle in a nature documentary. Why, because of a fuse blowout? None of this kind of stuff ever bothered her before, yet now it was as if she needed a nightlight and security blanket just to make it through an overtime shift. Anxiety was a fickle thing, rearing its ugly head at the most inopportune times for little to no reason, much less for any reason that made sense. It was like Gregory and Ted had told her, she should be ecstatic to finish the last night of her internship, one step closer to having full certification in a field she enjoyed. So, why was she sinking deeper into disquietude as the final week stretched on? Did her brain no longer understand the difference between terror and excitement?

She blinked away the wetness in her eyes, rubbing the heels of her palms against them to staunch any pitiful tears before they could begin. With a sniffle, she took a final, stuttering inhale and slowly blew it out. That was better, she was better now. Her arms still shook and her nerves tingled under her skin, but she didn’t feel on the verge of going into cardiac arrest anymore. Now, she just wanted to throw up what meager food she had in her system. Not only that, but she wanted to go home. She wanted to drink something strong. She wanted to lay down in bed for thirty-seven hours. She wanted…

…she wanted to close that goddamn motherfucking gate.

Unbelievable, un-freaking-believable. Well, not that unbelievable, but still. How in the hell was her manager going to sit there and try to placate her worries that there might have been a break in, that someone might have been tampering with things around the building, when nobody could be bothered to close the propertyline gate for the past three days minimum. Yeah, no wonder someone felt like they had free access to WerTech Production Headquarters; the employees there routinely left the locked doors wide open for anyone to wander in! If there were any late night thieves, they had half their heist planned for them when it came to securing an entry point and getaway. 

Fear muddled into misplaced anger, heating her veins enough to thaw the chill that previously ran down her spine. Stupid gate, stupid stupid stupid gate, the bane of her existence for the last three nights. If she had never seen that it was open while throwing out the trash, she never would have inadvertently sent herself spiraling down the rabbit hole of what-ifs relating to her mysteriously violent demise. Such a strange thing to fixate on, yet one undoubtedly about to be on the receiving end of her frustration as she marched through the backlot towards it. She didn’t know why it was open, if it served some vital purpose that may or may not cause issues for her former coworkers come Monday morning. She didn’t care. This place wasn’t her problem anymore at the stroke of eight o’clock. 

The closer she got to the fence, the more of its shape she could make out against the inky backdrop of evening. Twists of steel wires and towering poles became defined with each step, the opening in its chain links giving the illusion that it was gaping wider and wider as her perspective shifted from the distance. And as she raised her arm to grab hold of the accursed gate, ready to slam it shut with all the might she could muster to help ease a fraction of her vexation, she came to the startling conclusion that it was more open than she had anticipated. Not just opened – completely peeled backwards like a tin lid off of a can. The metal was mangled back and upwards as if it had been carelessly pulled from the ground. Support bars meant to take the impact of a wayward vehicle with only a few dents were bent at a multitude of angles.

This kind of damage shouldn’t be possible, not unless it was a big rig plowing through at top speed. Even then, the fence wasn’t smashed or bulging like it had been hit by something going out, rather it was deliberately torn open by something wanting to come in. But there were no signs of tire tracks or skid marks, no abrasion to any of the shipping containers that would have been hit in its path, no mention around the office about any kind of big machinery accident on site. That led to the conclusion that either this destruction of property was old news long before Serena’s employment…

Or it happened too recently for anyone to take notice, simplifying assuming the gate was cracked open when looking from the bay doors. 

“What…the fuck,” Seriously. For every instance she explained away, three more appeared in its place like a hydra. 

She couldn’t begin to fathom what kind of incident was able to do this much damage, yet so little at the same time, kept only to a small corner of the fencing. How long ago had it happened, how deliberately was it done?

Ted might know, loathe as she was to give him props for anything. Being one of the four rotational security guards, he of all people would either have been present or informed of any type of vandalism on company grounds. In fact, he could probably pull up the archived footage of when it happened to give her a definitive answer. Was it truly worth the mental strength she’d need to expend to willingly ask Ted for a favor? It would be so much simpler to let the issue go and finish up the last half hour of her overtime hiding in the bathroom. She could forget it, be done with it, let WerTech handle themselves as they pleased.

But dammit did she need to know if her gut instinct had been right since Wednesday.

The walk of shame back towards the side entry made her wonder if she should have gone ahead and left through the tear in the fence. Embrace her new life in the small, woodland strip between textile businesses, content to never look at a computer screen or human being for the rest of her days. Instead, she got to enjoy the feeling of a stone dropping into her stomach every inch she came closer to the building until she was worried she might be weighed down through the asphalt. The building itself wasn’t the monster she was afraid of, it was what it hid in its darkened halls and empty rooms that made her squirm. And some of the people. And the abysmal pay, or lack thereof for interns working overtime. 

Forgoing the door back into Warehouse B, Serena opted to use the side entrance that dropped her between the security office and conference room. Raising her hand to knock on the door made her feel braver than any American soldier deployed into battle.

“Ted?” she asked. “You there?”

“Sure am,” a voice called back and a moment later the door was opened. He smiled, gesturing for her to come into a small, enclosed space with him in private. She stubbornly stayed hovering in the doorframe. “Ready to wrap it up?”

“Yeah, almost, um…do you know anything about the busted gate out back? That’s all, like,” she jumbled her hands in explanation.

Ted raised an eyebrow. “Busted gate?”

Oh, that wasn’t reassuring at all. “Yeah, past the dumpster and the trailers. It looked like something just…plowed through it? I didn’t know if maybe there had been an accident or…?”

“First I’m hearing about it,” he shrugged. “Could have had something to do with the fire truck here this morning if I had to guess. Maybe they backed up too far. Pretty shitty if they didn’t say anything to anyone before they left, though.”

A fire truck was big, but not big enough to rip up metal fencing unless it was being hurled through it. “Could you…check? Like, the cameras?”

“Now?”

“...yeah.”

“I mean, we don’t even know what day or time it happened, that’s hours of footage.”

“Right, but, you should check, shouldn’t you? Isn’t the whole point of being a security guard to actually guard the building?”

His mild confusion morphed into a smirk that was a little too patronizing for her taste. “Ah, I getcha, you’re freaked out about that break-in possibility, aren’t you?”

Caught red handed. The way she averted her eyes to the floor and ducked her burning face made Ted snort.

“No, hey, don’t worry about it, I get where you’re coming from,” he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. “I think Greg’s full of crap. No one breaks in, moves a couple desks to the left, and leaves.”

“What about the breaker box? He said it looked like it had been mauled,” she pressed.

“Yeah, it was smoldering for hours, of course it’s gonna get fucked up.”

“And the gate…?”

“Like I said – fire truck. Or one of the vendor semis when they picked up a load. Some dumbass in a big truck, either way.”

She chewed her lower lip while she absorbed his harmless explanations. Ted said everything so calmly, so effortlessly, with zero hesitation because he truly believed there was nothing to worry about no matter who said what. She wished she was able to take in and hold on to those nonchalant vibes, but her paranoia refused to believe anything had that simple of an answer. Nothing was a coincidence, nothing was just the wind, nothing had a logical reason; nothing made sense!

“Serena? Hey,” she hadn’t realized she was trembling until Ted wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. When had he gotten up? When had her nose begun to burn with the threat of tears? “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No,” she choked out. “No, I’m not fucking okay.”

Before the security guard could ask her what was the matter, all of her anxiety was spilling from her mouth in a watery ramble that she couldn’t stop. “I feel like I’m losing my mind here, like, literally going insane. I keep, I keep thinking I see things to the point I run out the damn door so that I don’t have to be in the dark, like there’s actually a-a boogeyman after me.” She took a gulp of air and let it out in a humorless laugh. “And I’m twenty-six, I’m twenty-six goddamn years old and I’m worried about monsters in the closets but it’s not in the closets it’s everywhere in this fucking building when I’m alone.”

Her breathing was becoming shallower with every cluster of words she forced out in a single breath. “And I don’t know where this came from! It just, it started so suddenly and I don’t know why but it makes me feel like my heart is about to explode and that I’m being watched and I’m scared, Ted, I’m so fucking scared for no reason, but I don’t know what to do, I can’t, I can’t tell anyone because I know nothing is wrong but something is wrong and I just, I-I…”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupted her, squeezing his arm tighter around her shaking frame to break her out of her rant. She should shrug him off, worry about how she would need to scrub her skin raw in the shower tonight to get rid of his touch. At this point in time, she couldn’t care less where her comfort came from, so long as it was someone who believed her.

“I’m sorry,” she sniveled, burying her face in her hands to hide her humiliated tears. “I don’t, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“Nothing’s wrong with you. I mean, a lot’s wrong with you, but, like, not in a way that’s your fault, you get what I mean?”

Strangely enough, she did, so she gave a weak little nod.

“Sounds like you’re having your first burn out,” he rubbed his hand down her arm. “College girl, shitty internship, apparently thinks those gross fruit bars taste good…I’m surprised you hadn’t snapped sooner.”

She pulled away from his hug and scrubbed her face, ignoring how his hand lingered on her back. Give a man an inch and he’ll take a mile, as they say. “I think this place is cursed.”

Ted sniggered. “Oh, yeah, definitely, like, twenty people brutally died here in the eighties.”

“What.”

“I’m kidding! No, this place sucks for a lot of reasons, but I promise we don’t hire shadow walkers or whatever.”

“You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen on the cameras was when Tiarra’s bra broke during a board meeting and everything just went fwomp.” He made sure to pantomime with his hands how her breasts sagged exaggeratedly to her midriff.

Yep, there was classic Ted. His decency towards women was nice while it lasted. At least the distaste Serena felt blocked out her overwhelming nervousness. Just being able to vent her frustration and cry it out had eased a considerable weight from her chest with some significance. Ted would have much more luck wooing the girls in the office if he could pull his head out of his ass more often and listen instead of drooling. 

She was saved by the bell when in the distance a landline rang from one of the offices. They both shared a look, unsure of who could possibly be calling at this hour. Serena peeked down the hall to get a better listen, only coming to the assumption that it must be one of the desk phones ringing in the finance office. What a strange time to want to call and ask for a rebate program.

“Just let them leave a voicemail,” Ted said. “and I’ll tell you what – how about you and I take a walk around the building, check out the gate and the lights and whatever you want, and then we grab dinner together?”

The first half sounded okay, but the second half of his offer made her wince. “I don’t know about that…”

“It’s just to show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he reassured her, assuming her apprehension was because she was still too shaken up to want to venture into dark corners and not because the idea of going on a date with him repulsed her. “And if there is anything out there, I promise that I’ll hit it really, really hard with my nightstick for you.”

“I…” The phone continued to ring, its shrill tone echoing down the hall. It should have cut off by now, unless the caller redialed again. Persistent, weren’t they? That must mean it was either vitally important or the most asinine thing anyone had to ask. She sighed. “I should go get that. It might be Gregory.”

“I doubt it.”

She shrugged, inching her way out the door for her grand escape from this awkward conversation. “Better safe than sorry. You can be my human meat shield after.”

Thankfully, Ted didn’t try to trail after her. Probably sulking or plotting how to get Serena to agree for a little late night rendezvous. Hell no. She was going to answer the phone, send her last email ever to mark her time, and get the hell out of here. Even if Ted had been the handsome charmer he thought himself to be, she didn’t have the energy to be in someone else’s presence for any remainder of the night. At this rate, it would be a miracle she didn’t just flop on her couch and stay comatosed until Tuesday.

As she guessed, the phone was ringing from her office enclosure. More than that, it was her deskphone that was flashing red. Definitely Gregory, then, if not some insistent spam caller that was only getting through because she was the sole representative online in the system. Still, she didn’t want to assume in case it was someone who wasn’t her manager but had equal importance. She was courteous and professional, after all, as her supervisor comments better damn well say.

–

[Phone Call Transcript]

Note: This is not a real call. Abnormality is using its technological interference to lure Subject away.

[0:00:05] Boyd: Thank you for calling WerTech Productions, this is Serena, how may I help you?

[0:00:27] Unknown Caller: …

[0:00:43] Boyd: Hello?

[0:00:46] Unknown Caller: …

[0:00:51] Boyd: Hello? Are you there?

Note: Building experiences a second total blackout at this time, however the phone line remains connected. CCTV cameras remain functional as well.

[0:00:57] - Call Terminated by Unknown Caller

–

“Crap, again!?”

The dial tone hung in the air as she tossed the receiver onto her desk, not bothering to hang it up. Having one operating phone line on the grid must have been the breaker’s final straw if the lights in Warehouse B were anything to go by. Of course it would be another system failure right when she was about to leave despite running smoothly enough when everyone was bustling about during the day. Her only good fortune was that she stashed the flashlight she used yesterday in one of her drawers. She had to knock it against the edge of the cubicle divider to help the dying batteries hold on for a little longer before it was ready to lead the way out of this hellhole for a second time.

Swinging the beam into the hallway, she couldn’t detect any of the furniture having jumped out of place like before, which was already an improvement.

“Ted?” she called out. “Ted? Hey, let’s just forget it and go home. I’m sick of this place.”

He didn’t answer her. Maybe the office door was closed and he couldn’t hear her, or maybe he’d gone to check the breaker himself. Regardless, she still needed him to walk out of the building with her so she could call Gregory about the grand sucky finale of her night without being accused of abandoning him and creating a hostile work environment. With a huff, she walked towards the security room, wrinkling her nose at how quickly the air turned stale.

“C’mon, I’m done. I’ll tell Greg this place is about to burn down again when we leave.”

Nothing. Not even the squeak of a rolling chair or shuffling behind the door. He must not be in the office. Great, because going on a wild goose chase for a guy she could barely stand in a dark, stuffy building was the one thing she had always wanted to do. It wasn’t like she hadn’t just had a miniature crisis about this damn place giving her the heebie jeebies. 

“Ted, I’m leaving,” she tried again. To hell with it, she’ll just write him a message on a sticky note and let him figure out the rest. 

The thickness in the air swirled into a bitter aroma, enough that it coated the back of her throat with something unpleasantly tangy. Gross, had something started leaking, maybe spoiling? She hadn’t smelt anything unusual during last night’s power outage; something internal must have gotten fried during round two. Be it melting wall insulation or a busted gas main, she wasn’t inclined to breathe in slightly noxious, possible toxic fumes longer than need be. If the security guard wanted to go gallivanting through the halls until the whole place exploded from sparks and vapor, he could be her gu-

“Oh…oh my god. Oh my god.”

It wasn’t until her flashlight reflected off the floor in front of the security office did she understand where the source of the stench was coming from. In the dark, the thick liquid had blended in with the abstract pattern of the hall tiles. Now that she was closer, however, a puddle was clearly spreading from the doorway, the bright red color glaringly obvious once the light was on it. Splatters and droplets sprayed around the main pool all the way from the threshold to the corridor wall. What was worse was that it wasn’t just wetness, but gooey chunks darkening certain spots to almost appear black.

Thank god she didn’t have a bigger meal in her stomach or Serena would be adding a second mixture of bodily fluids to the floor.

A hand flew to her mouth, muffling a scream, holding back a gag, unable to tear her eyes away from what was undoubtedly a fatal amount of blood seeping into the grout.

“Ted!? Ted, this isn’t funny!” It has to be a joke. It had to be a sick, cruel prank that he was playing on her after she had just gushed about the ominous feeling WerTech gave her lately. Gregory was probably in on it, too, maybe the whole office as well. A carefully orchestrated trick they had spaced out over seventy-two hours to make Serena feel like she was going crazy.

Certainly not because something bad had actually happened. 

“Please, please, Ted, just…just fucking answer me!” she cried, her voice catching in her throat at the tailend of her sentence. “We’ll go home, we’ll go on that stupid date, please, just come out!”

The flashlight shook violently in her hand no matter how hard she squeezed the yellow plastic. Its beam may as well have been better suited on a rave dance floor with how frantically it moved from the floors to the walls to the doors. Past the initial pool of gore, it illuminated a trail of blood that streaked down the rest of the hallway in a shape roughly the same width of Ted. He’d been dragged off, mortally wounded if not already a goner. Every part of Serena screamed at her to run, smash her way out of the front windows if she had to, but she couldn’t. Not without Ted. She couldn’t…fuck, she couldn’t leave him to die, not if there was a chance to save him. He was a sleaze, but he was still a person.

And even if he was a lost cause, he should still have his baton and service weapon on his utility belt. She didn’t know where their assailant was, so she needed all the help she could find to be prepared. It wouldn’t do her any good to make it to an exit just for someone with a hatchet to be blocking the way. Could a hatchet even do this kind of lethal damage? Definitely not in one blow; Ted would have had to have been hacked consecutively to – no, no, no, she was not going to think about that she was not going to envision that.

Each exhale came out as a whimper, a clear struggle that she was barely keeping herself from breaking down into sobs. What was she going to find, what was going to find her? She had to push forward, despite the squeal in her throat when she had to step over the sticky red puddle and hope to god none of it stuck to her shoes. She kept her back angled towards the wall as she shuffled along the trail, hoping to protect herself from any unseen attack while keeping as much distance as she could from the blood trail mere inches from her steps. It smeared to the left at the hallway’s junction, heading towards the storage wing before disappearing through the open door of Storage One. 

Just from the doorway, she could see the sparks flickering from the breaker box, though not nearly as fervently as it did before. Enough to light up a corner of the room with a flash every few seconds, but nothing else.

“Ted…?” she whispered. “Ted, are you…are you there? Are you…h-hurt?”

Obviously he was hurt. Obviously he was dead if that much blood was outside of his body. But what if it wasn’t his blood? What if he was alright, the true savior of the day that had already dispatched the convicts who tried to get the jump on him as part of their three-day master plan?

Any kind of stupid hope her mind tried to supply to block out the mounting trauma was dashed when she shone her flashlight through the door. She could see his legs on the floor, pants torn and soaked with his own blood, and when she fully stepped into the storage room to look at the rest of him, she wailed.

He was desecrated beyond recognition, resembling pulp more than a man. The entire right side of his body had been ravaged to the point Serena couldn’t tell if it was missing or simply turned to mush and smeared along the floor. Bones were broken and jutting through the skin, skewering organs that spilled out from the absent side. They, too, were tangled between themselves and hunks of muscles that were torn from the bone. His head…his head was the worst, by far. The skull was caved in at his forehead until it was practically flattened, causing graymatter to splatter like a rotten grape. Bloodied eyes popped out of their sockets to forever stare at nothing while his jaw was misaligned around a swollen tongue.

Every orifice oozed with red, the flow having already slowed to a trickle from his nose and ears given that there wasn’t much left to drain from his remains. Any scream Serena wanted to let out was trapped as a silent sob in her chest, unable to process the sight in front of her. Ted hadn’t just been killed, he had been slaughtered. Whoever did this had done so with an ungodly amount of rage and strength, unless it had been carried out by a depraved group of individuals lost in the bloodlust. She didn’t know what was worse: to be outnumbered, or to go against the brutality of a single attacker.

“Oh god…oh god…”

God was not going to save her.

She allowed herself two mournful sobs before she forced herself to back away from the sight on wobbling legs. It wasn’t safe here, she couldn’t stick around to grieve unless she wanted to rest ending up the same way. She needed to get out of here, drive as far and as fast as she could, and call every police department in the tristate area for help. And she needed to do it now before she was caught next.

She turned around and she screamed.

There was no way she could have possibly missed that…that thing in the corner staring down at her with those awful eyes. Wide and yellow, glowing against the backdrop of black, with ringlets of red that were evocative to a bullseye at a carnival game booth. But no, that wasn’t it; it was the fact that the eyes towered so, so high above her all the way to the fifteen foot ceiling. Its frame was swallowed up by the darkness of the room courtesy of the blackout, only faint outlines of what she assumed were its arms and neck visible from the pinprick beam of her flashlight ghosting over its massive form. It was like the shadows blended into its skin as the perfect camouflage to the point its own body could hardly be made out when flush against itself.

And somehow, that still wasn’t what sent Serena over the edge. Not this giant fucking monstrosity looming over her, not her coworker’s mangled corpse behind her, not that fact that such a creature should be impossible to exist in the first place, not the realization that it was somehow able to squeeze into the room with no visible damage to the doorways that were meant to accommodate a ten foot height at most, not the fact that her intuition about something being so terrible wrong the last couple days was right.

But because Ted’s arm, from his broken fingers to the intact joint of his shoulder, was hanging out of its mouth.

The contrast of gore on skin and charcoal color of the jacket’s sleeve was the only way she could make out the line of its top lip. White fangs poked out from the corners of its mouth due to being slightly parted by the limb snatched in its teeth, likely held fast by smaller but equally sharp dentition. If it weren’t for the fact something was between its lips, she wouldn’t have even realized there were any features on its face besides its dizzying eyes, the shapes also obscured by its inky coloring. If it even had any in the same arrangement that a human would.

It tilted its head to the side, unperturbed by her sharp cry at its appearance. The movement caused blood to dribble from the stump of Ted’s arm and patter on the ground like rain, splashing at her ankles. Instinctively, she stumbled back to create a sense of distance between the viscera and the monster who had created it. Unfortunately, there was still the matter of Ted’s near inside-out body directly behind her. Too focused on the terrifying sight in front of her, she didn’t watch where she stepped and squished the remnants of a liver (or maybe the kidneys? Could be the stomach.) under her heel. Her foot slipped out from under her in a way that was reminiscent of the way she fell after dropping the pitcher of water in the lobby. 

Like before, its eyes watched her unblinkingly. Like before, she cried out at the feeling of liquid seeping into her clothing. The difference this time was that the creature didn’t disappear without a trace and she was far more distressed at the sticky warmth that stuck to her body from her lower back to her thighs. She tried to scramble out of the meaty pile, but her hands kept slipping in the blood and the sensation of guts squelching between her fingers made her recoil. All she could do was mewl such weak little sobs until her shaking limbs found enough purchase to pull her against the wall. She could move no further back, gain no extra footage between herself and the monster.

It knew that just as well as Serena. 

“No, no,” she croaked, watching as the creature slunk out of the deepest shadows that concealed it so well towards her. The flashlight wasn’t close to being powerful enough to unveil its entire body structure, but despite nearly slipping out of her shaky hold from the blood, she could see a few details that were missed in the darkness.

For one, it wasn’t just as tall as the ceiling. It was even larger with what looked like legs bent into a crouch to help it fit within the confined space. The hands that inched closer to where Serena was huddled had wicked points at the end of long fingertips, scratching along the concrete. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around how such an enormous being was able to hide itself in a compact storage room when there was no conceivable way it could have fit through either of the doors. Unless, somehow, it had made its own opening with such skill that there wasn’t a trace of demolition.

A rumbling noise made Serena shrink back into the false safety of her corner. It was deep and throaty, something between a growl and a purr. Not inherently hostile, but not remotely comforting in the slightest. From what she could tell, it hadn’t yet entirely extended itself forward and already the creature had invaded her personal space as a testament to its full height.

“Please,” she whined, her tearful brown eyes pleading with its two-toned stare. “Please…”

Please don’t kill me. Please let me go. Please make it quick and painless. Please please please–

It opened its mouth just enough to drop the severed arm at her feet. It would have landed in her lap had her knees not been drawn to her chest in a vain attempt to shield herself should the creature strike. 

She gagged hard enough that her whole body flinched, bile burning in her throat but swallowed back down. She pressed harder into the wall and willed herself the sudden ability to phase through solid objects with no luck. Was it better or worse to know that while Ted had been horrifically mauled, it didn’t seem like much of him was eaten as it was pulverized. Was it a more dignified death to be reduced to monster food or a sludge of innards? At least in the case of the second option, their families would have something to bury, even if it could all be scooped in a shoebox. 

Again, it made a noise at her. Softer, like a croon of encouragement, perhaps for her to accept the shared meal of her coworker as her last.

To think, not even an hour ago, that was the same arm that Ted wrapped around her in comfort. It was the same arm that held her close to his body while it was still warm and, for just a moment, made her feel protected from the horrors lurking around the corner. There was nothing it could defend her from now.

Serena bit her lip to stifle a moan of anguish. “S-stop, stop, please, get…g-get that away from me.” When the monster didn’t comply with her request, she kicked her leg out from her arm to shove the appendage back. “Get away!”

It tilted its head and rumbled in response to her. She shuddered, unsure what it was trying to ask of her, if it was capable of conversation to begin with. All animals had some sort of intelligence, but that didn’t always equate to morality, much less the complexity of human ethics. Not to mention, this creature was like no animal she had ever seen. She hadn’t known something like this could have ever existed, except maybe a million feet below sea level where the fish were all the more ghastly and colossal. This thing was just…unnatural. Nothing about it fit into a single category enough to be plausible. Like it didn’t belong in this world.

If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back and wow was that feeling more literal than Serena previously imagined. The eyes that wanted to swallow her up were like floodlights in contrast to the void that was the rest of the monster. It was like it was the personification of a blackhole, pulling the darkness around itself as a cloak and uncaring what was demolished in its hunger. Slowly, it bowed its arms to lower itself in front of her, eyes never leaving her once. She couldn’t look away, her mind was memorized by the glow of colors. It was almost too late when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Its hand cocked and reaching, so close to brushing against her side

Adrenaline pumped through her as if it had been shot directly into her heart. Without a second thought, she twisted away from the clawed fingers before they were able to dig into her flesh, scrambling to pull herself up. Her back hit a hard metal and she didn’t hesitate to grab it off the wall. Small and cylindrical; a fire extinguisher. It was dubious to think a little bit of suppression foam would be the single weakness for a beast of unknown forces, but she didn’t need a total knock out; merely a distraction.

Pin pulled, hose aimed, trigger squeezed – all before the creature had a chance to cage her in. Dense, white mist sprayed into the air, thickening into a light froth that shot directly at its face. It reared back, more out of shock than pain, she imagined, and snarled. If it weren’t for the fact her nerves were already shifted into overdrive to get her moving, she may have frozen with the way the reverb rocked her bones. The monster squeezed its eyes shut to avoid the blast of foam that splattered its face white in a continuous hiss. Now being powdered with the color contrast of its inky hue, she was able to pick out more of its face that she could see previously. Creased eyelids and a pinched brow, tufts of fur that covered from its forehead to its cheekbones like a head of hair, the bridge of a nose, lips curled back to reveal horrifically sharp daggers.

Almost human.

But the wrong kind of human.

Human in the way some fish had two rows of flat teeth that looked like a grin, or how a monkey could stand and walk upright while dragging limbs that were too long, or when an animal’s muzzle deformed to give the appearance of a drooped nose and protruding chin. Things that belonged at the rock bottom of the uncanny valley, that had no business existing as features on anything but a human being. Whatever this thing was, it was too far removed to be a recognizable person, no matter what kind of mask it wore.

While it was vigorously shaking its head to dislodge the foam blinding its eyes, Serena hurled the empty extinguisher to the side in hopes its resounding impact could be mistaken as her. She didn’t bother to wait and see if her bid for a few extra seconds was successful, using her head start to fly out the double doors to her right that led into Warehouse A. Her hand all but punched the emergency fire alarm –

[Note: All emergency calls and alerts have been deactivated by wireless jammers. Requests are transferred to ABC’s mock services and responded with trained personnel.]

– as she sprinted down one of the middle aisles towards the main entrance back into the offices. A piercing siren rang in every room of the building, strobes of red flashing in time to the beat. The echo in the warehouse only made the noise all the more ear bleeding, but she worry too much with how it made her head throb. A migraine was nothing in comparison to being eviscerated by a very nightmarish, very pissed off being from hell that now had a personal vendetta against her. Around her, the surroundings were briefly illuminated in red as the fire alarm screamed for evacuation, only to plunge into total darkness a second later, repeating the cycle. Being able to see, if only for a few moments at a time, was already a godsend. 

But when the world blinked away with each pause of the alarm’s wail, her heart skipped a beat, knowing that was all the creature needed to be virtually invisible to her. Despite the stretch she ran at a speed that would make track stars envious, it didn’t take long for the monster to be hot on her heels. Maybe it was because the alarm was so harsh, or because she could only hear breathing in her ears, or something in the middle of the spectrum, but she hadn’t caught the slightest sound that could have been it thrashing its way out of the storage room to give chase. There was no way it should have been able to wriggle through the warehouse doors, even if it crawled on its stomach, without tearing half the wall out as well.

Had it just…materialized? Poofed out of thin air into the next room over?

There wasn’t much time to dwell on the schematics of the monster chasing her. She could make up all the hypotheses she wanted after she had gotten to safety. If she made it to safety.  

For something so large, it was incredibly light on its feet, barely a tremor on the ground as it pursued behind. Hell, the only reason Serena had realized it was catching up with her was because its shadow was revealed in a flash of red along the racks of shipping crates. She yelped at the proximity and dodged into the open shelving under one of the aisle racks, shoving over a cart of loose hardware fasteners in her haste. Being over in the next row didn’t deter the monster in the slightest. Its arm swiped through the third tier of the rack, sending heavy boxes wrapped in plastic film to rain down on her. She yelped, her arms bracing over her head as she continued to pump her legs faster to avoid being struck. 

Metal groaned under a weight it was not designed to hold. In a flurry of movement, more pallets stored on the upper shelves came crashing to the ground behind her. She could feel the shrapnel of scattering components and splintered wood smack the back of her legs, a near miss from dropping on top of her and shattering her spine on impact. Whether it was stupid or not, she risked throwing a glance behind her to see what the creature was plotting with its makeshift avalanche. To her horror, it had climbed up the shelves to perch almost thirty feet above, making the steel buckle and shake to support its large stature. 

It leapt from the rack on her left to the one on her right, causing even more inventory to go sailing to the ground with a crash. The shelves barely held together from the landing and Serena feared it may go falling in a domino effect on top of her with the way it swayed and screeched. Regardless, the monster didn’t break its stride to pounce forward down the row and purposely send industrial coils of wire careening over the edge. Because it had gained a few feet of lead, something it could have done when she was well within its reach on the floor, she was able to skid to a halt as supplies rained down right in front of her. The forced stop was exactly as it intended, blocking her front and back path along the aisle with smashed stock. 

She thought herself so clever when she squeezed between the gap of shelving units to be back down her original route. The door was straight ahead, just a few more paces, and there were no more racks on either side of her to potentially block her in with debris. Unfortunately, slipping through lower openings was a trick the monster already picked up on mere moments ago. If her lungs didn’t burn like every inhale was ablaze, she might have had the air to scream when it sprung down to land between her and the door. Most of the white powder had dissipated from its face, leaving only its eyes as the key feature to look at. 

Whether washed out in a red light or hidden in the void of black, the only thing Serena could consistently see was its goddamn eyes. 

Her body moved on its own accord before her brain could think of firing off an order. She thought maybe, since she was so small and it was so close, she could juke the creature by running around it to circle back towards the door. There was no time to formulate a plan B when her only options were fight or flight. And ‘fight’ might as well be renamed to ‘instant suicide’. What she hadn’t accounted for in her brilliant scheme for survival was a long, thick appendage to strike against her whole body when she veered from its crouched legs. The collision sent her flying backwards, all of the air being knocked from her lungs and leaving her breathless. In that moment, her shock overtook her brain in a daze, making her forget she was currently being flung off by some type of crime against nature in favor of noting a few new observations.

A tail…it had a freaking tail, one that tapered off like a reptile.

The texture under her hands was smooth but with a slight give, like velvet. Was this what covered the rest of the creature’s exterior?

It had arms like a human – hands and elbows and shoulders that connected to a torso. But its limbs from the waist down were wrong. Its legs looked to bend at an extra angel, each length of bone too long to match human proportions. It was more akin to the hindleg of a dog, which made it easier to move while crouched. 

Human, reptile, dog. What the hell kind of amalgamation was its physique, and how was such a fusion pos–

Her back crashed into the side of a shelving unit with a thud, snapping away her ponderings that only existed for the four seconds she was airborne. She felt her teeth crack together when her head hit a metal crossbeam while the taste of blood filled her mouth from an unknown source. Some sort of choked grunt escaped her lips on impact, but when she crumpled to the floor she could hardly muster a wheeze. No matter how desperately she tried to suck in air, her lungs refused to work, worsening the burn of suffocation in her throat. Stars blotted around the edge of her vision and what she could see kept splitting into blurry doubles. Blinking only made it worse.

It was a good thing she was curled on her stomach as she turned her head and retched. Hardly anything but yellow bile and spit was thrown up, the spasming of her diaphragm making her ribs stab with agony. She made the most miserable sound of pain that could be forced out of her. Everything hurt so fucking much. Her head was swimming, her legs throbbed from exertion, her back ached with the onset of a wicked bruise darkening the skin from her shoulders to her tailbone. Breathing was like inhaling glass. Crying was like setting a firecracker off behind her eyes. In the back of her mind, some basic health class she had taken as an elective course unhelpfully reminded her that pain was good. It meant nothing was numb from blood loss or nerve damage or just completely ripped from her body. It meant she was alive.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted to be alive right now.

How much pain did Ted endure before he succumbed to his wounds? Had it been quick, or was this merely a fraction of the torture he was put through. This alone was pushing Serena past her limits of what she thought she could handle. There was no way she’d be able to stomach anything more brutal than a flick of the monster’s tail. 

She coughed wetly once her lungs had regained the function to breathe, even if it was only shallow gasps. Through her fringe of curls that had fallen over her face, she dared to look at the creature. It looked right back at her. With shame, she could only imagine how downright pitiful she looked from its point of view. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were wet with tears and runny mascara, blood was smeared from a busted lip onto her chin when she wiped away the dribbles of vomit from her mouth. She was half curled in a fetal position while every inch of her trembled in various amounts of pain. By all accounts, she had clearly conceded to being captured by a predator.

And if the monster was pleased by that, Serena had no way of knowing, because all she had to go off of were unblinking eyes that stared at her with unbridled fascination. Was it impressed by her will to live, or was it simply salivating after working up an appetite? 

“Wh-what…” she rasped. “Wh-what do you want…f-from me…?”

That got the creature’s attention. Really, its attention had always been locked solely on her, but her attempt to provoke a conversation had garnered a quick reaction. It crooned, a stark contrast to the growl it had made when she sprayed extinguisher foam in its face. She couldn’t tell if it was trying to mimic comfort or condescension, either way the low rumble made her break out into goosebumps. It inched closer in that same slow, deliberate way it had tried in the storage room, its body low to the floor as if there was any chance of them being on the same non-threatening eye level. 

“What are you doing?” she asked with a tremble in her voice. “What do you want?”

It didn’t answer. It might not even understand. The only response it offered was another, quieter croon when its face was less than a foot from her. To her absolute horror, the creature parted its lips enough for slivers of white to show, only for those, too, to open further and a long, black tongue to slither out.

She paled, eyes wide in terror. “N-no…no, no, please, god, no!”

Her cries for mercy fell on deaf ears as the creature leaned down.

“No, no, don’t, please, I don’t want, ple - AH! NO!”

Warmth spread along her back and dripped down her collarbone. Thicker than water, thicker than blood; she felt like glue was being poured along the length of her spine and allowed to leak in the crooks of her arm and neck. The weight of the creature’s tongue squished against her thighs and stroked up to her hair, drenching her more with each pass. A shiver of disgust ran through her bones at the sensation of saliva slicking her curls to the nape of her neck. She cried out to make her extreme displeasure known, trying to turn her head enough that spit wouldn’t dribble down her face, but it was of little consequence to the monster.

In fact, the continuous reverb that echoed in its chest indicated it was quite pleased with this development. It must enjoy the taste of sweat and misery because she couldn’t imagine she had anything else to offer its palette. If it weren���t for the fact she was being licked by a ravenous monster that had already shredded one person and had her next on the menu, the soft pressure and heat trailing over her would have felt wonderful for her aching muscles. Instead, it only made her tense and squirm, putting more strain on her body that begged for a moment to recover. When she managed to wriggle half a foot away, the creature paused its lapping to grab hold of her soaked blouse with its teeth and drag her back to her original spot.

The feeling of teeth pressing into her lower back, only for a second, was enough to kick start her adrenal gland into high gear once more. She could already envision them clamping down through her flesh for the first bite now that it had had its fill of savoring her. A phantom pain blossomed along her shoulder blade from the imagery of meat being scraped from the bone. No, no, no, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to go out like that. In the short distance she had dragged herself on her arms, she threw out a hand and grabbed hold of a jagged two by four that split from a pallet when it shattered thirty feet below. Splinters from the raw wood dug into her fingers, but the sting was ignored as she pulled it close to her chest. 

Endorphins dulled the pain radiating through her enough that she felt a renewed surge of strength tingle in her muscles. Not wanting to give the creature a chance to resume its tasting, Serena twisted around and swung the wooden shard like a bat. Its mouth was still hovered over her in the transition of nipping and licking, taking the full whack to its lips and teeth. Even if the hit didn’t do too much damage, the slivers of rough wood would surely stab into its gums as little splinters it would have to claw out. The board cracked against one of its fangs, causing it to bark at the unexpected pain shooting down its jaw.

Its head snapped to the side following the motion. The tongue that had been happily gliding over Serena now prodded at the tooth she hit, swiping around the gum to feel for swelling or bleeding. She would have loved to relish in her minor victory of causing any miniscule amount of discomfort to a monster she thought was indomitable, but that celebration would have to hold off. As soon as its attention was diverted by the shock of being struck, she rolled out from under its looming form and clambered onto her feet in a mad dash for the office doors. It growled sharply at her retreating figure once it saw where she had fled, though that didn’t stop her from disappearing into the main building and smashing the automatic lock button on the keypad. 

Would a flimsy internal mechanism keep out a forty-some foot tall being from clawing through a single door? No. Especially not if it really didn’t need to use human entrances to go from one room to another. Still, it provided a tiny bit of security that her mind needed to cling to to stay sane a little while longer. She turned to make a break for it down the hall, only to slam her knees on the edge of a copy machine from the customer service department.

The furniture had been moved again, pulled from walls and offices to create a maze of obstacles that couldn’t be solved with a straight line. 

When the hell had it managed this!? It was clearly a set up meant to delay her escape long enough that the monster could catch up to her. Which meant last night, when it had done the same thing, it had been pursuing her all the way out the front door without her even knowing. Well, no, she knew something was lurking around, but the new knowledge that it could have sprung on her at any given time and chose not to made her chest seize. Unlike then, however, the current total blackout was interrupted by a flashing fire alarm that lit up the hallway in timed bursts to guide her through. She bobbed and weaved between desks and machinery, vaulted over toppled chairs and sidestepped waste bins and boxes that tried to snag her foot. 

Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the screech of metal followed by a cacophony of crashes muffled only by the siren still ringing throughout the building. Wherever the monster had manifested itself, it was soon to be closing in on its target as it barreled through the traps it laid for her. She knew there wouldn’t be enough time for her to make it to the main entry. It was bigger than her, faster, and as soon as it whipped around the corner and had her in its unsettling sight it would be game over. Her only hope was to hide and pray it couldn’t scent track. If she could just hold out long enough, maybe the fire department would be here soon to respond to the pulled alarm. And then, while the firefighters tried to keep the creature at bay with the water spray of their hose before being mauled, she might have a long enough diversion to slip out a back door.

Where the fuck was the fire department?

Up ahead, the open door to the finance office inspired a new idea in her rattled brain. Her phone line was still active, the caller didn’t hang up until after the power was cut. If she could find somewhere to stay out of view with the phone, she could call for a myriad of help. Police weren’t good for much, but they knew how to pack an artillery when the chance arose to use it. 

Serena shut the door behind her and rushed to her desk, grabbing the phone, receiver and all, and tucked herself under a neighboring cubicle. This might be Janice’s desk. Or was it Jessica? It didn’t matter, it was going to serve as her impromptu shelter during a deadly game of hide and seek. She balled up her fist and bit her finger until she could even out her breathing into something less hysterical. As urgent as she wanted her call to come across, it still needed to be quiet and coherent for the dispatcher. When she was able to swallow down the lump in her throat, she used the same teeth indented finger to dial 911.

Outside, a watercooler shattered. The monster was clearing a path down the hall.

–

[Phone Call Transcript]

[0:00:03] ABC Operative: 911, what’s your emergency?

[0:00:06] Boyd: Please, I, I-I need help! I’m trapped, I can’t get out, there’s, th-there’s, it’s in the building with me!

[0:00:13] ABC Operative: Yes ma’am, but I’m going to need you to remain calm so we can send help. What’s your location?

[0:00:21] Boyd: I’m at WerTech Productions, [RETACTED], n-near the entrance, please, just get someone here!

[0:00:28] ABC Operative: We have officers in route. You’re saying there’s an intruder on the property?

[0:00:35] Boyd: Yes, yes, it’s been here! It’s been after me for days and it’s, oh fuck, oh my god…

[0:00:42] ABC Operative: Ma’am –

[0:00:43] Boyd: It killed the security guard. T-Ted Milton. It ripped him apart!

[0:00:49] ABC Operative: Medical will be dispatched. The intruder has a weapon, then?

[0:00:54] Boyd: No! N-no, no, it is the weapon, it’s…it’s not human! I-I don’t, I don’t know what it is but, please, please, you need to send more people! I can’t, I –

[0:01:08] ABC Operative: Ma’am, I need you to calm down. You are aware that you’ve called 911, correct?

[0:01:17] Boyd: Wh- yes! Yes, I need help, I’m going to die!

[0:01:23] ABC Operative: Are you on any substances or prescribed medications that may cause hallucinations as a side effect?

[0:01:30] Boyd: No!

[0:01:32] ABC: Are you possibly suffering from extreme mental distress?

[0:01:38] Boyd: Of fucking course I am! Something is hunting me down and you’re not listening to me! I’m serious, there’s something out there, i-it killed Ted! Fucking send someone before it finds me!

[0:01:51] ABC Operative: Are you currently in a secure location?

[0:01:56] Boyd: I-I’m hiding in one of the offices, but I can hear it nearby. I, I don’t think it knows where I am…

[0:02:03] ABC Operative: That’s good, try to remain in place until officers arrive on the scene.

[0:02:10] ABC Operative: [Off Screen] Now?

[0:02:14] - The National Emergency Alert System Signal is remotely played through the phone line and out of Subject’s earpiece speaker at 120 dBA

[0:02:16] Boyd: What? What is that?

[0:02:20] Boyd: Wh-, s-stop, stop, turn that off! It’s too loud, it’s going to hear you!

[0:02:26] Boyd: Please, please, stop!

[0:02:31] Boyd: Stop, hang up! Fucking–

–

“- hang up!”

No matter how frantically she slammed the handset down on the switch hook, she couldn’t get the sound to stop blaring from the speaker. In her desperation, she was more so trying to break the phone against its own base to cut off the awful noise. It was just as loud as the fire siren, all the more easier to hear over the shrieking white noise that had been deafening her for too long. Her eardrums throbbed, worsening the pressure behind her eyes from the headache she hadn’t been able to shake yet. She grabbed at the cord that trailed back to the telephone jack by her desk and yanked as hard as she could with a petulant whine.

The cable went taunt, but didn’t pop from the socket it was clipped into. She couldn’t get the leverage she needed for a strong enough pull. In a last ditch effort, she threw the phone system across the room to at least get it the fuck away from her as to not be so close of a pinpoint to her exact location. It didn’t go too far as it was still tethered by the phone jacket and clattered in a heap near the metal cabinets against the wall, continuing to scream. Serena wanted –

[Note: Because Subject was unable to end the call on her end, ABC Operators are still able to hear and record the final interaction via the wiretap as well.]

–to scream, too. So, she did. She threaded her fingers through her hair that was still damp with saliva and dug her nails into her roots and sobbed.

“Shut up, shut up!” she cried at the phone. “Please, stop!”

She cut off her miserable wailing with a stifled whimper, clasping her hands over her mouth like she was holding back even a single exhale from escaping. Right outside the door, she heard the creature make a low, pleased chitter. It found her. Maybe it always would have found her eventually, but in this case she knew her fate had been sealed by a dispatcher with clumsy fingers. Regardless of how many officers and EMTs and firefighters were sent, they’d never make it in time to save her before the monster had its way with her. If anyone was sent at all for anything but a wellness check on a delusional woman. She squeezed her eyes shut, though tears still found a way down her cheeks.

No one was coming for her.

Between the alert blaring from the phone speaker and the fire alarm playing in surround sound, it was impossible for her to strain her hearing for the creature. It was loud when it wanted to be, as demonstrated by its vocals and disregard for office equipment that was in its way, yet it could be whisper quiet in the same breath when it was on the prowl. How many times had it trailed behind her when she was none the wiser? Always out of sight, but always within reach. She held her breath until her lungs burned, just in case a sniffle gave her away. Who knows what other unfair advantages the thing may have over her.

For a moment, there was nothing, only two alarms whooping in tandem in an empty office. In that period, Serena felt she was hyperware of everything but the monster. She could feel how her ruined blouse stuck to her back with spit that had significantly cooled, she could smell Ted’s blood that still flaked off the hands around her mouth, she could hear every swallow crackle in her ears while trying to silence any stray sob. Time stretched from seconds to minutes, just as when she had been thrown into the side of a rack.

Then time resumed when black fingers curled over the edge of the desk she took refuge under, its claws digging into the laminate material like butter. In a flick of the wrist, the desk was pulled up and tossed aside to hit the ceiling behind the creature, landing on the cubicles below in a flurry of paper and broken dividers. Serena shrieked, pitching back until her elbows caught her from fully hitting the floor. She hadn’t heard it come in or disturb any of the other desks to accommodate its size while it made its way to her hiding spot. How was it getting into places without a peep only to run through it like a tornado a moment later!?

“Get away from me!” She crawled backwards, her hand pawing for anything useful that might give her her third head start. “Please, please, leave me alone!” 

Another sob tore from her throat when she was naturally forced into a staring contest with its eyes. Usually, they were wide like a child in wonderment, fully engrossed by Serena and wanting to commit every second to memory. Now, however, the lids were slightly narrowed down at her. Not entirely a glare, but enough to convey the feeling of irritation that was directed at her and her alone. This was the second time she’d thrown something of mild annoyance at its face and scurried off; the game was already getting stale if the creature wasn’t the one winning. But it was the winner because it always found her minutes after fleeing, it just didn’t like the fact she was the one resetting the chase instead of staying captured.

It stalked towards her with a low rumble. When it looked like she might try to get up, the monster darted forward to slam its hands on either side of her. The sudden lunge was enough to startle her flat on her back with a squeal, wincing when the tender spot on her head bumped against the floor. She tried to scramble and roll over on her side to get up, or at least get out of the way, but the creature was too fast for that from where it hovered overhead. It bared its fangs with a short growl and when that only heightened her struggles, it leaned down to snap its teeth an inch from her stomach. The fear of having a bite taken out of her abdomen paralyzed her. She laid immobilized, arms shielding her tear stricken face and legs trembling worse than a newborn fawn.

Seeing that she had finally ceased her fruitless fight, the next croon it made lacked the temper it had before, accompanied with a soft nip to her chest that inadvertently shredded the green ruffle along the placket. Better it be her shirt that was torn by teeth rather than the quivering skin underneath, she supposed. Still, that didn’t stop the strangled keen stuck in her throat. It added insult to injury by flicking the tip of its tongue from her neck up her cheek in misguided praise for her submission, coating the flushed skin with a sheen of salvia. She grit her teeth, shaking her head to signify her dismay.

“Let me go,” she tried to beg. “Please, I, I-I don’t know what you want. Just let me go.”

It chirped a reply, the vibration making her bones turn to jelly from such close contact. The creature buried its nose into the crook of her neck and purred, the tremors nearly making her body go numb. She cried out, wanting so badly to shimmy from underneath where it kept her pinned, but the mouth that was pressed into her abdomen as it nuzzled stilled any attempt of a struggle. One wrong twitch and it might take that as an invitation to carve out her intestines for not heeding its earlier warning.

Though she couldn’t move, Serena had little control over the mewls of terror it elicited from her. “S-stop, please, get off, get off,” her weepy pleas were dangerously close to becoming hysterical. “Don’t hurt me, please, god…”

The monster gave pause in its touching with a curious grumble, the purrs fading from its chest as it pulled back to look down on her. With some relief, its eyes no longer regarded her with annoyance for her behavior, though that didn’t mean it was any more of a comfort to stare into them head on. She shrunk in on herself, unable to gauge its change in mood. Had she offended it with her babbling? Was it done playing with its food now that she had been properly put in her place? Was it being intentionally cruel in the way it tormented her, or was it simply natural behavior in the way a cat toys with an injured mouse for fun?

A hand lifted from its perch beside her and extended a single finger. With bated breath, she did her absolute damnedest to stay where she was lest she tick the monster off for a third, and likely final, time. She winced at the feeling of its claw brushing her tangled fringe out of her face, the tip nicking her temple and drawing a stinging bead of blood. That didn’t dissuade its tracing from her jawline down to her neck, slowing its descent for a moment to admire the way her throat bobbed with a nervous gulp, so close to being slit wide open if it wasn’t more mindful with its claws. The pad of its finger rubbed against her collarbone and continued down to the curve of her chest before stopping.

Even at their difference in size, Serena knew it had to be able to feel how her heart was hammering under the sternum it was prodding. With a grumbling hum, it pushed down a fraction, earning a squealing gasp from the poor girl like a squeaky toy. Thankfully, the creature didn’t try to poke any harder or she thought its finger might penetrate straight through to her spine.

Satisfied with…whatever it was hoping to accomplish, it let its finger slide off of her and sat further back on its haunches to observe its prey. It stared at her. She stared at it. It tilted its head with a croon and she nervously darted her eyes around the office for something. Its tail languidly thumped against a cubicle partition. Her chest started to heave with short, quick breaths of unbridled panic. It did nothing. She snapped.

Damn it all to hell.

The overwhelming urge to survive until her last gasp was ripped from her lungs refused to let her lay there until the creature made the first move to slaughter it at its leisure. Miserable as it was, the reality of her situation was that Serena could either die now, or she could die later at an unknown time. Regardless, she wouldn’t be making it out of the front door alive. As much as she would have liked her demise to be relatively painless, the uncertainty of when her gory death was to occur was almost half the agony. Waiting for the brutal inevitable was far worse than getting it over with so she could be relieved of this nightmare sooner. 

She knew it wouldn’t like her turning over and clambering on a rolling chair to heave herself up after it had just gotten her to yield. She really couldn’t give two fucks about what it thought, much less when already thought she was a catch that needed to be reprimanded before the end. If it was going to kill her, she may as well go out with the knowledge that at least she died swinging. Even if it was quite the unfair fight. It wouldn’t be the coward’s way out.

Of course, she would have liked it if the creature granted her a little more dignity to stand tall before it pounced. Her hands had barely found purchase on the armrests of the chair to help her sit up when it decided she was already moving too far away. A scream rivaling the decibels of the fire alarm made her throat burn, almost animalistic in the way it ripped from her diaphragm. Her body was encased in a damp warmth, pinpricks digging into her back and stomach that welled up with blood if she twisted too hard against them. A familiar tongue pressed to her arm and side, instantly coating half of her in a sticky wetness. One hand was able to flail and claw and grab hold of whatever she could for leverage, scratching across velvety skin. The other could only knock against hard pillars and spit-slick flesh, blinding pushing away the prodding muscle and smacking the roof of the humid cavern she was partly ensnared in.

This is it, Serena thought. Tears of pain and frustration clumped her lashes but refused to fall out of spite. Though her mind naturally screamed at her to struggle with all the strength she had to dislodge herself, the movements only caused her to be cut deeper by teeth. What did that matter, anyways? She had already been snatched up in the creature’s fucking mouth, held in place by fangs that only needed a nibble to tear into fat. One bite and she would be gone. A single chomp would sever forty percent of her body from itself. Assuming it wouldn’t just toss its head back and swallow her whole like a pelican. Assuming it wouldn’t take enjoyment chewing on every non vital part of her anatomy to prolong the experience and savor the adrenaline seasoned meat.

The creature didn’t clamp down. Despite her clumsy wiggling and grunts of pain caused by her own doing, it didn’t apply any additional pressure beyond what was needed to keep her securely in its mouth with minimal discomfort. She was almost waiting for it to violently throw her about like a dog with a rabbit’s neck locked its jaws, but what it did instead was far worse. 

It shifted itself to be upright on its hands and hind feet and walked away from the debris field it made, Serena partially dangling from its mouth with no say in being carried off.

“What, wh-what are you doing!?” she called to it, only able to see the creature’s hands as it batted a few desks out of its way towards the door. “Put me down! Let go, put me down! Stop!”

One second, they were approaching the office wall directly facing the hallway, its door comically small for the monster to try and squeeze through. The world around Serena flashed from red, to black, to red, as the fire alarm tirelessly called for emergency. In the next moment, just when everything had disappeared into the blackout, her surroundings showed to now be the main hallway washed in red light. The creature continued down the hall without breaking stride, returning in the direction of Warehouse A with Serena held fast. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the transition that led her outside of the office in the blink of an eye without a wall being knocked down. Whatever the monster had done, it made her feel lightheaded, like she had just stepped off a whirlwind ride at the fair after having been on it seventeen times in a row.

Everything was so dizzying and spacey all of a sudden. Her limbs drooped from where they had tried to shove against the creature’s mouth, her head lolling with a whimper of confusion. Was that how it was able to seamlessly travel between rooms – through some usage of the dark? No wonder it unsettled her so much recently; she was potentially surrounded by an open door any time the lights were shut off. The travel between shadows was not made for human bodies to fare well in. 

“Please…stop…”

[Note: While following Abnormality down Hallway 3 and Hallway 5, CCTV cameras lost contact and cut off shortly after. Power was not restored until 4:37 A.M.]

–

END OF THIRD NIGHT

–

Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Boyd in Abnormality’s mouth.]

Though not captured on footage or phone call, Boyd is presumed to have been killed by Abnormality for the end of its hunt.

ABC cleanup services were deployed to WerTech Production Headquarters the following morning to dispose of evidence:

The body of Ted Milton was collected and destroyed

Ted Milton’s and Serena Boyd’s cars were removed and shredded

Hidden cameras and bugs were removed 

CCTV footage was wiped back until 7:30 P.M. the following night

An electrical fire was staged to have effected - Storage One, Finance Office Two, Warehouse A, & Hallway 5

Note: Boyd’s remains were not recovered during this sweep. It is believed she may have been killed off property.

Surveillance of the building permitted to continue through WerTech’s internal security systems until Abnormality is located and returned to ABC’s facility.

–

AB299 Behavioral Theories - Updated

Previous theories for Abnormality’s change in behavior have been revised in light of the events pertaining to the third day of observation.

Savor Theory - Due to the prolonged nature of its hunt, it is likely Abnormality was taking pleasure rather than acting solely on hunger. This theory is to be refined and added to Intelligence Capability file.

Courtship Theory - While some behaviors may be similar to socialization displayed in the animal kingdom, it must be kept in mind Abnormality is not part of that. This theory has been scrapped. 

Enrichment Theory - Because Abnormality has confirmed to have killed at least one person, it can be concluded this was an active hunt. This theory has been scrapped in favor of ‘Savor Theory’. 

–

Sixth Day 

[Two (2) days since Abnormality last spotted]

–

MORNING OVERVIEW

No activity has been noted at WerTech Production Headquarters over the weekend aside from authorized clean up by ABC personnel. Business proceeded as usual for scheduled operating hours.

Artificial rumors were circulated through employees to cover up remaining evidence of Abnormality and Boyd’s interactions:

Areas staged with electrical fire damage were tarped off for repair; displaced employees were placed in temporary offices

An email was sent from Ted Milton’s address to announce his immediate resignation; no questions were asked

An email was sent from Serena Boyd’s address to confirm her hours were approved for graduation; she was not expected to return 

Abnormality has not been found on property or around the local area at this time. While it is unusual for it to return to the same location after a successful hunt, the possibility cannot be ruled out due to behavioral changes.

–

Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Boyd exiting custodial closet in Hallway 1. She is surrounded by three (3) employees who offer assistance.]

SERENA BOYD’S RETURN

Unexpectedly, Boyd reappeared at WerTech Production Headquarters at 5:49 P.M. in which she enters from a closet. There is no archived footage showing her entering or exiting the closet prior to this reveal. It is unknown if she had been in there since Abnormality’s disappearance.

Seven (7) WerTech employees were in the building when Boyd stumbled into the hallway and collapsed. An intercepted call to 911 was made by an employee that was answered by ABC’s mock service.

Three (3) ABC personnel with Level 4 clearance were dispatched to the scene as two (2) officers and a paramedic.

Witnesses stated that Boyd appeared out of nowhere and was extremely unfocused. They were unable to get her to speak or walk without support. 

Note: All employees were required to wait in the break room under the supervision of an ABC agent until Boyd was assessed.

–

Medical Assessment: Serena Boyd

Clouded eyes; unable to follow penlight movement 

Vision improvements thirty minutes after recovery

No reaction to auditory stimuli; delayed nerve reaction to physical stimuli

Motor improvements forty-two minutes after recovery

Slurred speech; unable to support head when sitting up and continually slouching to the side

Balance improvements thirty-six minutes after recovery

Speech improvements twenty minutes after recovery

Full body tremors

Low body temperature - 95.8 F

Temperature increased to 99.3 F fifteen minutes after recovery

Ashened complex

Gaps in short term memory

Bruising along abdomen and mid back; scabbed lacerations on posterior and anterior 

Dizziness; nausea

No signs of sleep deprivation or malnutrition despite having been missing for sixty-six hours

–

Picture Left [ID - CCTV still frame of Boyd and two (2) ABC personnel seated at a table in a manager's office. She is slouched in a chair with a shock blanket draped over her.]

The Interview Incident

ABC personnel privately interviewed Boyd on her experience when she was coherent enough to participate over an hour later. It is not believed she suspects them of being undercover operatives.

During the interview, Abnormality has returned to the property.

–

Her eyes remained glued to the glass of water she had been offered earlier at the medic’s insistence for hydration, transfixed on the droplets of condensation that slid down the sides into a growing puddle at the base. That would leave a ring stain on the desk’s finish; she should get a coaster. She should also probably drink the water that was almost room temperature by now, but she didn’t want it. She wasn’t thirsty, just a slight headache, and she worried the shake of her fingers might cause the glass to slip and spill should she try to hold it. 

“-to an extremely traumatic event,” the officer continued. His words faded in and out of her ears in little fragmented sentences. They’d been talking to her for a length of time but made little progress in cracking her case. She couldn’t even remember their names. “I know it might be hard, but we need you to try to remember anything about what happened.”

“What happ’nd?” she repeated, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. It sounded more like Serena was the one asking them for clarification about what took place rather than the other way around. 

He nodded at her patiently. “You’ve been missing for two days, Ms. Boyd. Can you tell us what happened the night you disappeared?”

“Two…days?” Her brow scrunched in confusion. Days didn’t sound right. If it had been days, she would be hungry and grimey, wouldn’t she? The only thing she felt now was exhaustion in the way that everything ached and nothing worked as a remedy. 

“Did it not feel like days to you?” He asked.

She shook her head and immediately regretted the action with a wince.

“How long do you think you were gone for?”

“Gone? Where…where’d I go?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” the medic said with a sympathetic smile. Weird that she was also present for a police interview, but maybe it was in case Serena collapsed face first on the desk.

The officer pushed a tape player across the desk so that it could be in the middle of them. “Let’s start from the beginning, try and jog your memory a bit.” He pressed the red play button, her own voice playing from the staticky speakers in clear distress with a 911 dispatcher. “Do you remember making this call?”

Immediately, she curled in on herself and whimpered. Her shaking worsened, breathing quickening to shallow pants as she listened to herself beg for someone to help her from a gigantic monster prowling in the halls. 

“It killed the security guard. T-Ted Milton. It ripped him apart!” her past self sobbed.

Ted. Oh god, Ted. Gone and bloody and broken and pulverized and shredded and dead dead dead dead –

In an act of mercy, the medic reached over to stop the tape. “Deep breaths, Serena, or your blood pressure might crash again.” 

She gulped, screwing up her face in a bid not to cry as the memory of Ted’s eviscerated corpse washed over her before fading into obscurity, safely repressed once more. “N…no one came…”

“We did,” he said softly. “but you were already gone when we arrived on the scene.”

“Can you tell us about what you were running from? What you think killed your friend?” the medic encouraged.

The monster. The void that had shaped itself into an unnatural form with fangs and claws and horrible, horrible eyes. Bent legs and a tail, a face too human for comfort, throaty grumbles and a slick tongue. Any time she closed her eyes, glanced at a shadow, she swore she could see it lurking somewhere in the depths of darkness. Inescapable. 

“I don’t…I dunno,” she squeezed out.

“You do know,” the officer said. It wasn’t accusatory, but it was firm, like a teacher wanting a student to solve a problem on their own. “It’s somewhere in there, but you have to work with us so we can get it out.”

She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “‘m trying…”

“I know, and we need you to try a little harder. What were you running from, Ms. Boyd?”

Her hands dropped to her lap in exasperation, already feeling dizzy again with this constant runaround of being asked the same questions with the same answers. The things she did know didn’t make sense, and the things she didn’t know refused to come out of hiding in the recesses of her trauma. Was it that she didn’t want to relive those memories, or were they, in fact, moments in time she was beyond comprehending?

“Wh’does it matter, you won’t believe me,” she snapped. “No one believed me. You’ll jus’ think I’m crazy, or, or, tell me I’m having an episode and that I…”

She cut off her own thoughts with a sickening realization. Of course these two wouldn’t believe her story about a monster in the dark, just as no one took her seriously about her growing anxiety prior or when she tried to call for help. Outside of her own head, she could recognize how absurd the claim was and how it would hardly stand as evidence about the real culprit of Ted’s slaying. They were trying to evaluate how much of the monster was truly all within her head as a manifestation of stress, looking for the trigger that may have caused a psychotic breakdown that resulted in her brutalizing her coworker before fleeing the scene in a daze.

“You…you think I did it, don’t you? Y-you think I killed Ted, a-and, and I’m making this all up.”

“Serena, no,” the medic reached her hand across the desk again to place it over Serena’s trembling one. She gave her fingers a warm squeeze. “I think we’re the only ones who do believe you. And you know what else I think? I really think you saw something that night that shouldn’t exist, and I think it had something to do with your disappearance.”

The kind reassurance that she wasn’t being interrogated as a delusional murder suspect made her want to cry. Not that she did have any hand in Ted’s death, to her knowledge. She bit her lip, pulling the shock blanket tighter around her shoulders to conceal the way she shook in the chair. Was it too late to ask for a lawyer? She hadn’t been read any Miranda rights yet, had she? There was a vague recollection of the officer telling her that she wasn’t in trouble, this was simply to gather what information they could to help her, not convict her. 

The medic rubbed her thumb on the back of Serena’s hand, looking at her with those kind, green eyes. “Where did you go, Serena?”

She couldn’t help the sob that slipped out, stifling the rest of it with a sniffle. “I..I don’t…I don’t know…”

Before either of the responders could start again with their circular questions, she pushed on to wring what she could from her muddled mind. “I dunno what it was. It…I try…it’s so fuzzy in my head when I think about it. And, and I don’t know if maybe…that has something to do with it. Like…like it’s…” she grit her teeth at the pounding behind her eyes. “It gives me a headache.”

“What was it like? Can you tell us anything about how it looked?” The officer asked.

She swallowed. “No, everything in my mind is just…dark. And when I think I remember something it…there’s…I can’t describe it. I see it but I just, I can’t, it’s not…it’s like I’m trying to make something that isn’t real.”

The medic nodded at her with some type of understanding. “You were somewhere your psyche couldn’t handle.”

“Hm…?”

“It’s like…for us, we can see things in two- and three-dimensions. That’s normal, we can process those things. But when we try to picture something in a fourth- or fifth-dimension, it’s impossible,” she explained. “But those planes of existence are still out there, allegedly.”

She blinked slowly at the other woman. “You think I…slipped between dimensions?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” she said.

Her eyes looked between the officer and the medic, almost like she had fallen back into her half comatose state. “That’s…”

“I know,” the officer sighed. “But so is being chased around by a shadow monster, Ms. Boyd.”

“I’m not lying about that!”

“I know,” he repeated. “So we can’t rule out anything that happened to you afterwards yet. Not until you can tell us exactly what occurred.”

“I…I told you, I can’t remember,” she winced again at the sharp stab in her skull, pressing the heel of her hand against her temple to alleviate the pain. “I was here and then I wasn’t and there were…it was dark but there were these, like, just…”

“These what?”

“...colors. Things were in colors but…colors I’ve never seen before, ever. And I try to look at ‘em but I can’t see them, but it was so…blinding, I think, I don’t know. It hurt my eyes.”

The medic rested her chin on her propped up fist. “That must be why your memories are blacked out. You’re trying to remember them in color shades that don’t exist, so you can’t picture anything.”

That made a fair bit of sense if Serena was to believe she had really been kidnapped to an alternate dimension by a shadow hopping creature for one reason or another. Just thinking that made her want to check herself into the looney bin for an extended vacation, apparently with the two responders as well who were only feeding into her hysteria. 

“Let’s talk a little more about your attacker,” the officer redirected. “Do you remember your encounters with it before you went missing?”

It was hard to think about, but she nodded.

“Do you remember what it looked like? How it acted?”

She nodded again. 

“Tell us what you can about it.”

The shock blanket crinkled as she dug her fingers into the outside material, a sense of dread washing over her immediately from just having to relive being in its presence. “Big. It had fangs and claws and it…it was like this demon-man-dog thing, I don’t know. And, and it was all black with yellow and red eyes, but, but you could only see the eyes.” She gave a shuddering sigh. “It…hurt me a little, but…but nothing like it did to Ted. I don’t, I don’t think it was trying to…”

“How often was it with you in the two days you were gone?”

“Not…I don’t think all the time. I felt like I was running nowhere a lot, but, but not for two days.”

The medic hummed. “Did it feel longer or shorter?”

“Both. Like, like when you’re having a nightmare.”

“And how did you get out of your nightmare?” she asked.

Their impossible, neverending questions were starting to make Serena feel faint again. Her migraine was worsening with each instance she needed to recall from a reality that didn’t exist. She felt like she was going to throw up if the stress caused her stomach to tie itself into one more knot in her jumbled guts. No amount of deep breathing could slow the beat of her heart that banged furiously within her ribcage, further aggravating the purple bruises that mottled her skin. There was a right answer for everything the responders asked, so tantalizingly close in her mind, yet stubbornly guarded by an annoying little disorder called PTSD that refused to let her open Pandora’s box. 

What was the worst that could happen; she goes completely mad like the protagonist of a Lovecraft novel who tried to understand a concept outside of human knowledge? Hey, if she became a raving lunatic, at least they’d be able to string together better answers from her ramblings than her repeatedly mumbled ‘I don’t know’s.

“I just…did,” she said with a strain in her voice. “I couldn’t see where I was going and…and I ran into something. And I felt around, and I found the knob and…I was here.”

She slumped deeper in the chair, avoiding either of the responder’s gaze so as to hide the tears burning in her eyes. “I don’t wanna be here. I, I don’t want to go back there anymore. I wanna go home…”

To her credit, the medic looked extremely consoling to Serena’s plight, but the tight smile she offered was that classic you’re-not-going-to-like-this-but-we-need-to-do-it-anyways look all medical professions gave their patients who felt the remedy was worse than their sickness. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Why not?” she whined, like a goddamn child. 

“Your condition needs to be monitored. Even under normal circumstances, you’re still in shock. It wouldn’t be safe to leave you alone,” she explained. “But we can make sure you have the treatment if you’d be willing to be admitted to a private hospital.”

She paled. “A psych ward?”

“No, Ms. Boyd, it’s not a state sponsored institution,” the officer said. “It’s a very respectable facility that has numerous therapies to help. Therapies that can pull those memories out and help with the pain.”

“You do think I’m crazy.”

“We think you need help processing your trauma, not because we think you’re imagining it.” 

“It’s to keep an eye on your physical well-being, too,” the medic added. “You were in a pretty rough state a couple hours ago.”

The officer nodded once. “ABC can take good care of you. We can take you to their facility for an overnight stay, just to ease your mind, and have you discharged in the morning.”

“Well…provided you pass the examinations, of course. We can’t have you discharged if you’re still in clear medical distress, but after those though, yes.”

Something niggled in the back of Serena’s mind, almost missed by the severity of the headache that was making her brain throb. It was a tiny little prickle; the same feeling that made her spine tingle and her hands clench, the same feeling she had felt when walking through dark spots in the building less than a week before. Intuition. The sense of dread that something was very, very wrong even if anything had yet to happen. It had been right so far, despite hindsight reminding her that she hadn't taken the warnings as seriously as she should have.

don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t trust don’t go don’t go don’t trust don’t trust don’t go

But why not? They were the only ones who believed a word she said. A few internet forums might also believe her wild claims about giant monsters and worlds beyond their own, but these were two people that were legit. An officer of the law, sworn to serve and protect, and a medical technician dedicated to save lives – who better to guarantee her protection? In fact, these were the last two people she would have ever thought would agree that not only that she had been stalked and kidnapped by an otherworldly being, but that her coworker had been slaughtered by it as well with no suspicion pointing to her at all. Cops and EMTs were always the one having to talk down the crazed druggies going on about how they had to kill their spouse to prevent an alien apocalypse, after all.

Even if it was odd that the offices at WerTech were still open despite being what should be an active crime scene. Even if the officer didn’t wear a name badge. Even if the medic was present and asking questions unrelated to her health. Even if neither of them were taking notes the entire interview with no camera or voice recorder in sight besides the tape player containing her paused 911 call. Even if they cared more about where she disappeared to rather than what took place prior that resulted in a man’s death, as if they had already figured that part out without her input. Even if she had never heard of a place called ABC that specialized in hospice. 

If her brain hadn’t been so clouded with such a thick fog, she may have picked up on these inconsistencies throughout the interview process. But the fact of the matter was that she was lucky if she could hold on to a thought for longer than a second before it disappeared into static. Her past was a blur and her present was already getting fuzzy at the edges in real time. All she could rely on was that instinctive pull that was trying to steer her away from a threat she couldn’t understand. The last time, that threat had been a rampaging creature. It was most certainly in her best interest to listen again, despite the desire to be around the experts of her situation.

“I don’t think…my insurance would cover that,” she said as a pitiful excuse. “Can I–”

The lights flickered. Serena froze. They then went out for one, two, three seconds before blinking back to undisturbed brightness. The officer and medic glanced at each other in a way that told her they were thinking the exact thing she was, though they were far more calm about it. However, the lights had never turned back on after an unexpected blackout before, and she was waiting for one of them to dash her worries by saying something about a shoddy generator or broken breaker box to explain the weak electricity. They didn’t. 

“Call for C Team,” the medic ordered. Her partner nodded and, rather than using the radio clipped to his shoulder as Serena had seen most officers do, he pulled out some kind of sleek, flat device from his pocket.

“Requesting immediate dispatch; C Team to WerTech. AB299 possibly on premise,” he spoke into it.

A voice crackled from the other end. “C Team inbound. Status on subject?”

“Conscious and in custody.”

What the hell did that mean? Was she the subject? And what was C Team, and who the hell were any of these people!?

“What’s, wh-what’s going on?” she asked, only to be promptly ignored by both responders, whom she had a sneaking suspicion weren’t real responders at all. No, actually, they were technically responders, just not for any emergency service the general public could call. 

The ‘medic’ hefted her black bag onto the desk and rummaged through the contents within. “Check with Jack that we have the building on lockdown and all seven witnesses accounted for. If any of them get out, it’ll be Atlanta all over again.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grimaced. He pressed another button on his strange walkie-talkie, presumably to switch the channel. “Jack, what’s your status?”

Staticky dead air responded. The ‘officer’ waited a beat before trying again. “Jack, are you there? What’s the status update?”

This time, the silence was broken in a series of snaps and sizzles of various volumes, occasionally cut in by what could only be described as electronic shrieking. Or was it real shrieking? It was too distorted to tell, but someone was clearly trying to signal back with little success. 

“-ere-”

“Jack, you’re breaking up.”

“-abn – in buil – trapped – eed bac – need! –”

The speaker was blown out by white noise, then cut off entirely.

“Shit,” the ‘officer’ muttered, switching back to his other line. “AB299 confirmed on premise. Sounds like it just took out Jack.”

“C Team is seven minutes out,” the other voice said.

The ‘medic’ pulled out what looked to be something similar to a zip tie, made of a thick white material and with two loops at the bottom of the clasp instead of one. “Go check and make sure we have the location secured. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. They should have all been in the break room at the other end of he buildingl.”

“What about her?” he asked with a gesture to Serena, who seemed to have been forgotten during this exchange. She couldn’t even dignify that with a response, let alone think of anything that wasn’t ‘what the absolute fuck are you guys talking about?’.

“I’ll take care of her,” the ‘medic’ replied. Those ties in her hand were suddenly much more threatening with the looming promise to ‘take care of’ a girl who had seen more than she bargained for. “If AB299 gets a hold of her, it might try to take her back and we’ll have to start from scratch.”

“Who the hell are you people!?” Serena finally cried, slamming her hands on the desk as she forced herself to stand despite the black spots that made her head spin. Her outburst had almost no reaction on either of them, only regarding her with cool indifference. 

The ‘medic’ jerked her head at her partner. “Take care of the witnesses while you’re at it.”

“Understood,” was all he said before leaving the office. 

That just left Serena and the other impersonator alone in the enclosed room, one of the women being at a slightly higher advantage when it came to mental clarity and reflexes at the moment. Unfortunately for Serena, she was also the one with the weird zip ties that were either meant for her wrists or her throat. Both did not sound like very great options. The ‘medic’s eyes lost the warm hospitality that had lulled her in during the interview, replaced now with an icy professionalism that gave way she didn’t care one way or another if a supposed patient was lost on her watch. Especially if it involved seven of them being coworkers who were only trying to help. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Serena,” she started, taking a step forward as Serena took a wobbly one back. 

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed. To that, the other woman blinked. “You’re…you have something to do with that thing, don’t you? You, you created, or something, or –”

“The only thing I am associated with is the Abnormality Breach & Containment organization. I have nothing to do with AB299’s attachment towards you,” she explained. Ah, so that’s what ABC meant. That cleared absolutely nothing up.

Serena pinched brows. “What’s AB299?”

“An abnormality. Something that’s not meant to exist, but does. That’s its classification serial number.”

Great. Still made fuckall sense.

“I know you’re confused. Honestly, we’re a little confused, too. AB299 has never acted this way before when it would break out to hunt,” She took another step closer. “We’re not sure yet if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“What are you…talking about?”

The ‘medic’ huffed. “Come on, Serena. Whatever AB299 is, it’s a predator. And you, well, we thought you were prey at first. We never expected you to make it the three days that you did. We never expected you to show up when we thought for sure you were dead.”

She felt her heart hit the floor at such a casual reveal of information. The horror had to be clear on her face as she grappled with so many new layers added to what she was forced to experience for a voyeuristic secret service. Not only had they presumed her dead, not only had they never intervened to save her, but they had known the entire goddamn time she was being hunted and allowed it.

“You…y-you let it go after me.”

“It chose to go after you. We just didn’t stop it,” she clarified. Another step. Serena was backed into a corner. “We needed the research; you have to understand that observing its behavior is how we can learn to keep it better contained.”

“You were going to let me die.”

The other woman didn’t say anything, only leveling her with a heavy gaze. The sacrifice of one to save many, except it wasn’t just one that was passively offered as bait in the name of scientific discovery. How many others had died while ABC looked on and scribbled on their notepads? Was it enough to counter the lives they claimed to have saved as a result? By the sounds of it, AB299 was a routine jailbreaker, so they must not be making too many strides in their confinement regulations.

From her pocket, something beeped sharply. The ‘medic’ paused her advancement to fish for a similar device to what the ���officer’ had, holding down one of the buttons on the side to answer the channel’s request.

“Building secure, AB299 is definitely around here somewhere, though.”

“What about Jack and the witnesses?”

There was a pause. “Break room’s a fucking bloodbath. Anything that’s left is minced meat. Doesn’t look like anyone made it past the exit sign…Jack included.”

“God damn it,” she growled. “AB299 probably blocked his call…”

“That’s just the job, Alesha. I’ll put in a request for a clean up crew and head back. C Team is four minutes out.”

“I know what the job is. Just, be careful, Adam. It’s in a frenzy and it left the lights on, it doesn’t care about being seen.”

“Understood.”

The radio silenced its sizzling overlay and the ‘medic’, Alesha, pocketed it with a sigh. Her lips were pressed into a tight line when she looked back at Serena, straightening her posture. “You’re not the only person who gets lost during research sometimes. Certain things need to be done, and someone is always going to be the bad guy.”

The conversation was still ringing in Serena’s ears, blocking out whatever moral bullshit Alesha was trying to justify. Bloodbath. Minced meat. That’s all that seven people were given the decency to be referred to after so graciously trying to make sure she was okay when she collapsed in front of them from a closet by calling what they thought was an emergency service number. Seven people who had families and friends and lives, who came to work today like any other, who tried to keep Serena conscious and comfortable until help came, who agreed to stay two hours past their shift at the request of faux police with little complaint under the guise it was in case she had a medical episode. 

And these ABC people let them be fodder for a monster that was predicted to kill her before it deviated from that goal. No, not just that, ‘officer’ Adam had gone there with the exact purpose to get rid of them himself under Alesha’s orders. They might not have even seen anything at that point, had no idea what was going on, and would have died regardless for being a potential liability. Because they knew Serena was alive when she wasn’t supposed to be and had been found in a very odd way in a very odd state. Doomed by proxy out of the goodness of their hearts. All of them could have been spared had they been sent home after their own questioning wrapped up thirty minutes into her examination.

AB299 wasn’t the only predator in this building with her.

“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be,” Alesha said, holding up the ties. “We’re going to get you out of here and take you somewhere secured. You don’t have to be in any danger.”

“What, are you going to experiment on me, too?” Serena asked incredulously. “You just…you let all of those people die and now you want to dangle me in front of your monster until it, until it fucking does something? Is that it?”

“You cause some very…let’s say, interesting, reactions in AB299’s behavior. There’s something unique about you, Serena, something that might actually work to keep it contained.” Alesha’s tone was losing its evenness, becoming sharper with each argument Serena threw back at her to prolong the inevitable. She was quite good at keeping monsters at bay, it seemed. “Think about what this could mean. Do you know how many people you could save? We can figure this out toge–”

She was also quite good at tricking monsters with a sneak attack to the face. 

The shock blanket was whipped from her shoulders like a magician’s cape and flung at Alesha, blinding her with silver material that tangled around her head and arms as she tried to push it away. While the blanket itself might not be a heavy hitter, Serena’s elbow sure was when she cracked it against the general area that the other woman’s face should have been underneath the fabric. She wasn’t sure what she hit, but it was hard, and it struck her funny bone with enough force to make her fingers go numb. More importantly, it sent Alesha stumbling backwards with a bloodied face and further wrapped up by the very shock blanket she had given to her earlier.

In a flash, she was out the door that Adam really should have locked. Alesha was definitely yelling something, or perhaps just cursing in pain, but her voice faded quickly by the time Serena had sprinted down the hall. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and realize where she was in the building. Somewhere on the west side, near the manufacturing end and distribution offices. It also didn’t help that her vision would swirl every few inhales, unable to keep up with the exertion she was trying to use. Her stomach clenched in pain from the ugly bruise on her abdomen that was aggravated by her heaving diaphragm, her head wasn’t faring much better with her migraine. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and suffer in peace until she felt human again.

That wasn’t an option right now. Somehow, some way, she had been handed an open can of worms and promptly spilled the whole damn thing on herself. What kind of person finds themself mixed up in a world of mystery agents and reality shifting creatures and lives to tell the tale? Maybe lives, she hadn’t made it out of here yet. It wasn’t like she asked to be stalked by a monster who liked to escape ‘secret jail’, much less turn into some sort of special interest for it, which in turn made her a special interest to a lot of other people she had no desire to associate with. 

If she was going to be thrown into the plot of a summer blockbuster, why couldn’t it have been a cheesy romcom instead of an epic sci fi horror? If that was the case, then she’s said it before and she’ll say it again: she wasn’t a token death, she was a motherfucking final girl.

There was the slight issue of running down a hallway of training rooms that Adam was also walking up. He seemed startled to see her and the feeling was mutual. As far as he was concerned, she was meant to be in the office with Alesha monitoring her, bound at the wrists, sitting pretty with the understanding that she was under ABC surveillance for the foreseeable future. Instead, she was none of those things. They both paused in their tracks to silently appraise each other in confusion, which gave enough time for Alesha to catch up a bit from behind.

“Adam, stop her!” she yelled.

That was all the command he needed to snap out of his confusion. He moved towards her, drawing his gun from his holster, probably the only real thing on his police uniform besides the fact it was an amoral douche wearing it. The gun was aimed at her with steady hands and even at the distance, she had no doubt he was a sharp shooter. But she was supposed to be so important to their scheme, wasn’t she? They wouldn’t gun her down, she’d be no use in their stupid mind games to domestic monstrosities then. If he shot her, it would certainly be in one of her limbs to slow her down without the problematic aspect of death. A bullet lodged in her humerus was not something she wanted to deal with on top of everything else that was beating the hell out of her.

She turned heel and ran back up the way she came, ducking into an intersection where some of the hallways converged to make a loop for the front entrance. The side doors required her keycard and, even if she still had it on her, it would have been deactivated this morning per the scheduled end of her internship. Her best bet would be the entry doors, regardless if they were locked up like Adam had declared. There were plenty of plant pots to hurl at the full length windows around them for a messy escape.

Adam had to be hot on her trail, but her dulled senses only allowed her to hyperfocus on her own body. How her heart sounded, how her legs burned, how her sight was tunnel visioned. One thing she did have going for her though was that she was more knowledgeable in the layout of this building than either of the two agents. They may have done their homework, maybe even gotten a full blueprints for WerTech to plan for some cool secret spy getaways, but none of them knew how to find a secret spot to hide for prolonged periods of time like an intern who was wasting thousands of dollars on a degree that wasn’t even being utilized at a job that barely paid. 

There was an alcove where…something used to be some years ago, probably obsolete in this decade now. But within that alcove, there was a closet that couldn’t be seen from around the walls, hidden by the bulk of a drink machine that had been shoved into the open space. She had to grip onto the wall’s trim to help swing her into the nook, concealed from sight in the nick of time. Two pairs of shoes were jogging towards the intersection, Alesha telling Adam to check down this hallway while she went ahead to try and cut her off elsewhere, splitting the sound off to just his patrol boots stomping past her hiding spot.

She took a moment to collect herself. She knew if she slumped down, she wouldn’t have the strength to get back up in her exhausted, disoriented state. With a few deep inhales to fill her lungs, she pushed off the wall and dipped back into the hallway. New plan: retrace her steps back to where she started while the other two were trying to intersect her at the front of the building. And then…she…would come up with part two of that ploy when she got there.

Actually, no she wouldn’t. Because at the end of the hall where all of them had just come from was the creature. AB299, in all its glory.

What a stupid name, she caught herself thinking as if she wasn’t a hen in the foxhouse at the moment, is that supposed to mean there’s, like, two hundred and ninety-eight other monsters being stored at ABC? It didn’t roll off the tongue very nicely. 

To see it under the glow of slightly yellow fluorescent lights was unsettling in a way she didn’t think was possible. In the void of darkness, it blended in as another seamless shadow, only identifiable by its eyes following the movements of its prey. In the full light, though, its shape was clearly defined in crisp lines, ruining the illusion of omnipotence. That didn’t overlook the fact that AB299 was still massive, still crouched on all fours to fit in the building, and still as terrifying as ever with its narrowed eyes and thumping tail.

She was grateful the deep coloring of black helped to hide the blood she was sure its mouth and claws were drenched in. Her heart wouldn’t be able to stand the sight otherwise.

“Son of a bitch…”

It grumbled something unhappy, probably asking why she had left the lovely little plane of unreality it had hidden her to have a mental overload in. Such the unseemly habit of running away from the creature she had. Serena could only stand there, knowing any move she made would send the monster barreling towards her before she could slip its grasp again. The gears were turning in her head for something, anything, but all she was rewarded with was smoke and a wicked throb between her temples. 

On one end, she had an ‘abnormality’ with a strange fixation on her and a penchant for blood, of which hers may or may not be spilt next if she kept testing its patience. On the other end, she had two agents circling nearby, at least one of them with a gun. She wished she could say it was clear who was the lesser of two evils, but at least AB299 was acting on primal instincts as an excuse. Those two were just sociopaths with a warped hero complex.

…and really, if they got to play god over which lives were saved and which ones were bait, then why couldn’t she?

This was stupid. Really, really stupid. Suicidal, even, and definitely unethical enough to get her a first class seat to hell. Arguably, she was already in hell, so she couldn’t imagine anything worse than what she was prepared for. She raised her hands, trying to still the trembles enough that it didn’t look like she was erratically waving.

“H-hey…” she whispered, her throat suddenly dry and wishing she had drank that water on the desk when she had the chance. 

AB299 responded with another growl, a little less irked, and tilted its head.

She gulped. Too late to back down now. “C…come here,” she gestured her open hands towards herself. “Come follow me.”

She took two steps back. The monster lunged. 

Automatically, she stumbled a few more feet back with a frightened squeal. It took every ounce of her self control to plant her feet firmly on the ground to avoid the flight or fight instinct screaming at her to run. Her arms were raised again, as if she would physically be able to stop the creature that filled the space previously between them in two pounces.

“Stop, stop! Not chase!” she shrieked and by some miracle, AB299 heeded her cry before it closed in on the last five feet before her. “Not chase. Follow. Okay? Can you follow? Can you…do you know what I’m saying?”

It rumbled, eyes hooded in apprehension of what she was asking it to do, but at least no longer glaring. Taking that to be some kind of affirmation, Serena started to walk backwards again with her arms still up to signal the need for distance. Much to her surprise, despite the fact that was the intended goal, AB299 obediently crawled at what had to be an agonizingly slow pace in order to stay her requested distance as she walked. She had no idea how long she’d be able to keep this up for, hopefully long enough that she’d have a new exit strategy in mind should the creature grow bored of this game of Simon Says.

Alesha was right; it behaved strangely around her. If she had to guess, it was only listening to her now because it thrived under the positive reinforcement of her company. If it stayed and heeled as she asked, she wouldn’t go running off, and then there would be a mutual exchange where she also wouldn’t go running off the next time it spirited her away. Which was a term in their agreement she did not concur, by the way. 

“Little more,” she said, just to ensure she still had its interest. It crooned softly. “That’s a good, uh…well, just…good.”

She could hear the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum drawing closer to her from the hallway’s left opening. Her bet was Adam, given that he would have been closer to rush back once he heard Serena making her commotion. She wondered if AB299 heard him approaching as well, if that was a prowess it possessed, or if it was simply too consumed with admiring her to pay it much mind. Her throat tightened at the thought of what she was orchestrating, knowing it was the only way out she’d make it out somewhat in one piece. Cruel violence didn’t solve cruel violence, but she tried to trick her conscious that this was merely karma in play. It’s not like she was directly ordering the creature to maim, she just…happened to lure it into a scenario that it would make that decision itself. 

“You’re…you’re going to keep me safe, right?” she asked. It felt akin to a little girl asking her teddy bear for reassurance that it would chase away her bad dreams, except this teddy bear was one of the boogeymen from her closet. There was no telling what the creature ultimately wanted with her, whether it meant her harm in the long run or not. For the time being, she had to trust that its possessiveness equated to wanting her alive and mostly unscathed. 

The consequences of baiting a monster with an unhealthy attachment could be dealt with at a later time that was more convenient, such as never. 

Adam rounded the corner with his gun raised in preparation to threaten her into surrendering, if not to go ahead and take the shot to save everyone the trouble of her getting loose again. Really, if she had a quarter for every time she was being chased around WerTech by someone who was pissed she wouldn’t stop running away from an obligation she had no say in accepting, she’d have a worrying amount of quarters since that number should be zero for most people. She turned to see him realize his mistake too late. He froze, finger on the trigger but knowing it would be useless against the creature. AB299 snarled at the brandished weapon putting its prized prey in danger, practically making the hallway vibrate from its intensity. 

Serena dropped to the floor as the creature sprung over her to slam itself on the new threat. The agent cried out, but he wasn’t able to form any words that would be his last, all of the air squeezed out of him when claws dug into his chest. There wasn’t time to waste in being awed and sickened by the ferocity AB299 was capable of. The aftermath of its maulings were horrific enough, she didn’t need a full viewing to learn how it was made. With the creature distracted and one ABC agent permanently handled, she scrambled back up before her legs turned to jelly and disappeared down the opening on the right. She could hear the crunch of bone, the wet splatter of meat striking a solid surface, the groans and gurgles of a dying man. She didn’t look back. 

Following down this hall, she would be able to cut across the rotunda and loop back to the main hallway that offered a straight shot to the entrance. She begged her legs to push harder, ignoring how even at half-speed they were threatening to go numb if she forced them another step further. Who knew how long the creature would busy itself with devouring a man as an affectionate sign of protection. Once it had its fill in flinging the remains around, or perhaps noticed her missing first, the hunt would be back on. Would it be angered by the betrayal of her leaving after she tricked it into thinking they’d reached a mutual agreement? Would it think this was all part of the game and eager to continue? She’d rather not find out. She'd rather go home and sit in her shower for four and a half days. 

On her way down the familiar hall, she made note of the few areas that were sealed away under blue tarps and yellow caution tape. Black scorch marks around the edges of the room indicated fire damage, but she already knew that wasn’t the case. The storage room, the finance office – these were areas she had the most interactions with AB299 last week, areas that had been torn up by said creature in its chase. Pyrotechnic powers didn’t sound accurate, which meant these fires had been intentionally started to hide any unexplained damage. To hide the fact that Serena was missing, taken alive but presumed dead. They covered up her death and made sure no one would ask questions to mourn her.

She hoped every last scumbag at ABC choked. 

Being able to run down the main hallway without being impeded by scattered furniture felt like a luxury. She hadn’t realized what she took for granted in moving along a straight path during a life or death situation. Even though she was counting on this being the last time she would ever have to flee in this damn building. The only thing she needed to be mindful of was the bunches of tarp that poked a little ways out on the floor from where they draped over windows to block a room’s interior. Up ahead, she could see more fire burnings on the floor from where a flame had licked quite far from the doorway, though it didn’t like the room it trailed back to was sectioned off for remodeling. 

That was because, as she got closer, it wasn’t scorch marks. It was blood, already darkening to a deep rusty color and smeared much like Ted’s had been when his corpse was dragged off. Except this streak only went a couple feet out before stopping with a single handprint showing that the person had been pulled back into the very room they were escaping. The break room, more precisely. The room her former coworkers had been corralled into and guarded by another fake officer named Jack to keep them from leaving, where they were trapped on all sides when AB299 came to attack.

She shouldn’t have looked, she knows she shouldn’t look, but her eyes followed the trail of red before she could stop herself in shock. Adam had been right when he said it was a bloodbath; the inside looked as if a blender full of meat had gone off without a lid. The floor, the walls, the ceiling – every square inch was covered in a thick splattering of viscera that still dripped into puddles below. The tables and chairs were overturned as the monster wrecked havoc and people tried to get out of its path with no success. There weren’t even any bodies in the sea of gore, not like how a good portion of Ted had been left. All she could see were bits of flesh, a few clumps of hair, a single finger or heel of a shoe that still had a partial foot inside. 

There was virtually nothing left of these people, nothing but blood that mixed together and coated the room in bitter smelling scarlet. She had no idea which of her seven coworkers had been present to begin with, leaving her with no way of knowing who she should feel sorrow for. It was likely that no one else would know either as there was barely anything in the gore to identify one chunk of yellow fat from another. How long did the massacre last, how long did they have to watch each other be torn apart by a creature that only existed in nightmares, all because they happened to still be in the building when Serena magically appeared? She wasn’t sure what was making her more nauseous right now, the crime scene or the guilt.

Whether it was because she was disturbingly growing desensitized to copious amounts of carnage done in her wake or because her mind had already blocked the memory as a trauma response, her only reaction was to stumble back with a pained whimper. No tears were shed, not yet. She couldn’t afford to fall to her knees and wail in horror when she was so close to walking out the front doors. Or through a broken window, it didn’t matter to her. Then she could run and scream and sob to her heart’s content as she found a place to hunker down away from secret agents and giant monsters. She sniffled, clenching her first to her mouth in case she needed to bite down and muffle a cry, but the wave of anguish passed over her to be safely compartmentalized and never touched upon again if she had any say in it.

She’d only made it a few steps forward when a body ran into her back, nearly toppling both of them to the ground. Her surprise mixed with the lingering shock she was still experiencing, allowing her attacker to get the upper hand and wrap their arms around her to pin her to them. After a second, her brain caught up to her motor functions and ordered her to flail her limbs to break free of the hold, but it was too late. Something pinched the skin at the junction of her collar and shoulder, turning into a slight burning sensation as it plunged down into the muscle. She gasped, a warm feeling suddenly spreading through her veins that made her body involuntarily relax. Her arms dropped down from where she had tried to claw at the person’s face despite her protest, her legs finally making good on their threat to be as useful as rubber noodles. 

Interestingly, her head finally cleared of throbbing colors that flashed in her vision and she sighed in relief. What an unexpectedly blissful feeling that was coursing through her, almost as if she took a double dose of muscle relaxers and then dove into a hot tub. But as wonderful as her body felt, her brain was screaming at her this was wrong, so wrong, loud enough that she could still hear its warnings through the fuzzy euphoria of no longer wanting to split her head open. She groaned out some kind of noise, her throat and tongue refusing to work together, not that she was too sure what she had actually been trying to say. 

She lazily followed the forearm braced across her chest with her eyes and saw at the end that a fist was holding a syringe, the needle still stabbed into her skin and all of its contents already pumped into her. She’d been drugged; poisoned or sedated she didn’t know, but it wasn’t good either way. There was hardly any coordination left in her to slap her hands around or jerk her shoulders to dislodge whoever was keeping her in place.

“We could have done this the easy way, Serena,” a voice hissed in her ear. Alesha. That bitch. 

“Fff…f’ck ‘ou…” she slurred.

“I told them we should have taken you in when we first got here, you wouldn’t have put up such a fight then,” Alesha continued, more so talking to herself as the girl in her arms couldn’t formulate the most coherent replies at the moment. “And speak of the devil…”

She turned to face down the hall, Serena forced to move with her, to look at the creature poised at the other end. It growled lowly, its back arched in preparation to charge, only held back by the fact its prey was entangled with each other. Instead, it stalked forward, claws digging into the floor as it did while its tail whipped back and forth in displeasure, striking the walls each time with a resounding crack of plaster. All the while, it snarled and glowered at Alesha in warning to release what it had claimed as its own, but she held firm. The closer it got, the more clearly Serena could see the body hanging from its bared fangs, if it could still even be called that. Once it deemed itself close enough, it flicked its eyes to Serena and dropped the remains, a sickening squish when they landed before her. She could make out half of an intact spinal cord, flesh and fat looking like it had been used as chewing gum, but what part of human anatomy that was meant to formerly be was anyone’s best guess.

Behind her, she could make out Alesha muttering something about Adam being a poor bastard. She desperately wanted to thrash and kick up as violent of a fuss as she could, anything to wriggle out of her arms and maybe throw another elbow in her face. If she could play up her antics, she might have been able to goad AB299 into attacking the other agent as soon as she slipped from her grasp, but there was no way she had the functionality to do that. She also just wanted to cry and have the fit of crisis she was damn well entitled to by now. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to be absconded by a man eating monster. She didn’t want to be taken away for studies and experimentations for the man eating monster. 

But she’d lost. She hadn’t escaped in time, and now she wouldn’t be escaping at all. Whatever happened to her next was out of her control seeing that she couldn’t even lift her arm all the way up to smack against Alesha’s. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair! She’d worked so hard all her life to get to where she was today, busted her ass in school and at this stupid job, defied all the odds of survival against an unknown creature, and for what? For nothing. The life she built for herself was taken from her before she could even fully enjoy the fruits of her labor, all by someone else’s decision. 

“I’ll be sure C Team grabs your gift for you,” Alesha said with disdain, crinkling her broken nose in disgust of what became of her colleague. 

Serena felt herself be dragged backwards as Alesha took slow, deliberate steps towards the very entrance she’d been so close to reaching, the agent careful to readjust her grip and avoid showing her back to AB299. She mentioned that it was time for all of them to go, giving faux praise to the monster as it followed without attacking, promising that sweet little Serena would be coming with it so there was no need to get too hostile. Her words sounded muffled despite being held to the agent’s body, like she was talking underwater, which made sense since she herself felt like she was floating. She whimpered again, never taking her eyes off the creature that trailed after her like a puppy. Her pathetic noise made it croon.

The entry doors opened with the chattering and footfalls of a dozen people, but Serena was too focused on the feeling of cold air on her cheeks. 

–

END OF SIXTH NIGHT

–

Conclusion

Both Abnormality and Boyd were successfully captured and returned to ABC for containment.

The scene of the breakroom rampage was altered and ascribed to Ted Milton, a disgruntled employee, who returned to commit a mass casualty in retaliation and took his own life afterwards. 

Victims’ families were given a large insurance payout and fully covered funerals to avoid private autopsies

News of the event was not circulated into media outside of county newspapers

–

BEHAVIOR OBSERVATION RESULTS

The following information has been updated in AB299’s file:

Management Capability: Mid-Low

Intelligence Capability: High

Dimensional planes confirmed to be how Abnormality travels between spaces and possibly where it originated from.

Abnormality can only conjure these doorways in spaces of total darkness. If possible, it will trigger a blackout to achieve this.

Abnormality is not weakened by natural or artificial light.

As of now, Boyd is the only recorded human to have access to this space

Note: Electronic devices, such as cameras or recorders, do not work when taken between planes; researchers must find a way to observe inner reality

Per Boyd’s testimonial regarding the planes, it can be concluded that –

Time in nonlinear

Colors beyond human receptors are present

Humans possess the ability to open doors back into reality from Abnormality’s dimension [Ability to be reverse engineered in future testing]

The Courtship Theory has been reopened and is currently being revised in light of Boyd’s survival.

–

Picture Left [ID - Picture of Serena Boyd taken after her arrival and assessment at ABC facility. She has been allowed to groom and change her clothes. She is not smiling.]

Utilization of Serena Boyd

Abnormality continues to show fascination for Boyd without causing harm. As such, Boyd is required to be kept in good health and in frequent contact with Abnormality.

If Abnormality believes she is being observed too much by researchers, it will hide her in dimensional planes. Boyd is typically found within the facility two to four days later.

Boyd is to be interviewed immediately after being recovered and watched until her vitals are stable for best results of understanding Abnormality’s dimension.

Boyd is to go no longer than four days without interaction with Abnormality. Failure to do so may result in a facility breach. DO NOT ALLOW HER TO DECLINE, USE SEDATION IF NECESSARY. 

Do not forcibly remove Boyd from Abnormality’s containment; Abnormality will attack.

Do not use physical violence with Boyd in Abnormality’s presence; Abnormality will attack.

Do not engage inappropriate contact with Boyd in Abnormality’s presence; Abnormality will attack.

Do not inform Boyd of Abnormality’s response behaviors to her distress, this may be used against ABC personnel. 

Do not allow Boyd outside of Sector 17 to minimize risk of escape.

Abnormality has shown to continue breaching containment to hunt, however it is now returning on its own accord if Boyd is left in its containment cell. 

- Additional funding may be required to discover how the usage of Boyd could prevent hunting breaches entirely

–

FINAL NOTES

Full experiment results and research can be found on archived tapes relating to AB299 and Boyd. Research between the two will continue until Abnormality’s potential has been unlocked for ABC control, or Boyd is killed.

Access and travel through dimensional planes is of top priority.

THE GENERAL PUBLIC IS NOT TO BE INFORMED OF THESE ONGOING INVESTIGATIONS AND FINDINGS. ANY THREAT TO ABC’S SECURITY IN OPERATIVE RESEARCH WILL BE DEALT WITH AT THE HIGHEST LEVEL. THIS INCLUDES AIDING AND ABETTING THE DECAMP OF RESEARCH DETAINEES.

DO NOT ALLOW SERENA BOYD INTO POPULACE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

–

End of tape. 

Please continue with CS# 1789-64 at supervisor’s instruction. 

[hollyhomburg]

(On anon cause I get shy LMAOSJWOWJ)

BUT BUT 👀✨ you got bunny Namjoon stuck in my head and now you gotta deal with the consequences jsjsjxj

I'm just imagining this big man being feared and predator hybrid being unbothered by the larger man - what's to fear? Cuddles till death? Or Just kitty hybrid mc making Namjoons instincts go haywire. I can imagine the little tremble if his cotton tail as mc runs her fangs against his thighs, it's almost threatening and it makes his instincts WILD. Even her claws, just imagining how mc peers down at him, his big floppy ears twitching at every alert while he draws in a breath because of how mc runs her sharpened nails down his sides, leaving red marks in their absence. And no matter how much it makes all the rest of him fall to instinct, his cock leaks profusely. Mc knows he likes it, likes how all it takes is her eyes narrowing like a predator on a hunt and it has him winding up.

But I can imagine soft moments of mc trying to appease her prey mate - especially at first. Maybe they meet gardening bcs she needed a new hobby. She is bringing him little gifts, meals (mainly things she can catch - trying her best to woo him) and hes all bashful about it. Confused at first because really? She wants him? And his friends tease him endlessly, the big bunny hybrid has a kitty marking her territory on him? Trying to mate him even if it made others second guess her intentions?

And maybe when they begin properly dating, they make nests together. Namjoon having the need to have a burrow and if his kitty can provide it by making him a tight knitted and grounding nest? Then by hell he'll bask in it.

-

And to think of bringing Jeongguk into it ?! Omg I can see this ambitious bunny trying to win their hearts in any way he could. Getting into things they like to do (perhaps smth that they don't both enjoy- and that's fine, not everyone enjoys the same things) and puffing his chest when they smile at him, praise him and enjoy time with him.

Ah this was so 🫣😳😮‍💨 like the image of her dragging her fangs down his thighs~ maybe biting on his ears to keep his moans in! What if she’s a nibbly kitty too 🥺 maybe it’s in cat hybrids nature to want to mark up what’s theirs,

And what if she started doing that cat thing where you know they like walk close and brush up against humans they like- and joonie goes red all the way to the tips of his bunny ears when she nuzzles into his shoulder-

idk why I’m on my size kink shit too but- big bunny boy joonie x itsy bitsy kitty mc 🥺 is particularly soft, especially if she tries to gets territorial and tries to hide joonie behind her, her tail going all big and bushy and him holding it so that she knows he’s still there. Imagine after sex grooming sessions, the m/cs rough tongue lapping at the marks her little claws left, both of their dominance instincts appeased because for bunnies to be groomed means their dominant and dominant cats groom submissive cats

Not to get angsty but what’s about bunny jk x kitty yoon? Like imagine kitty yoongi and the m/c are buds, jk helps both of them out with their heats, they’re friends but more like friends + fuck buddies too? Maybe it’s just really hard to find heat partners you trust and jk is like…kinda great, bunny stamina and all!

Jk and yoongi have kinda been a bit of an item, maybe the mc thinks she’s been fucking it up or something or is just getting in the way of them and starts pulling away…only to fall right into joonies orbit. And yoongi and jk kinda mourn loosing her for a while, double date and hang out just as much, but maybe yoongi just won’t settle during his next heat, or jk goes into a rare rut that ends up being very mentally taxing.

And she comes once it’s over, with namjoon too for the first time because no way is bunny boyfriend gonna let her wander into a heat nest unsupervised 🫣 and all it takes is one wiff for namjoon to realize “oh, they’re in love with her” but maybe she doesn’t know, and then nj helps both of them go through the process of telling her 🥰 maybe bunnies are naturally polyamorous by nature so jk and namjoon are like so lowkey about it but she takes a bit to adjust. So she seeks out yoongi when namjoon and jk make her overwhelmed because he’s the calm boyfriend 🥺 just purrs with her and grooms her, maybe he’s the only one she lets do that 🥺

This was a very lovely ask and I could let it go unanswered! Thank you for sending it <3

[superm4ks]

i'm dying for the part 2 of the essential max verstappen races i've watched all the first 10 (teenage crime era) and now i need the rest!!

✨💘 part 1 💘✨💎🧨🌠part 3🗽🎯

Brazil, 2019 In part 1 I said Max always stunted in the US, but like both Americas have a crush on him. People like to yap about his 'luck' and how 'lucky' he is. Max bends luck to his favor with a crowbar if he has to and this race proves that. also shout out to Hannah she’s BEEN the best CS in F1 fr 🌻

Austria, 2019 yes honey, that Austria, 2019. First Honda powered win for red bull and it came on the back of a cracked out prancing horse. Lestappen had angry sex in front of 200000 orange shirts and we just let them

70th year anniversary GP, 2020 Set the scene: for 2020 mercedes has put thee most competent driver of all time behind the wheel of a Boeing 707. They say it's a car but its an airplane ok. So every race is basically like 2 hour long british orgasm ASMR. This one tho, this should've been the beans and toast equivalent to Beyoncé at the superbowl. This should've been their Homecoming. They got 2 races in the calendar for the 1st time, it's F1's birthday, Lewis is driving a commercial airplane, it's happening during peak covid because their prime minister is insane, period. They had it all. Except, it was kinda warm out. And Max Verstappen noticed. Whole british empire vs one man's inability to not be the moment. Guess who won

Emilia Romagna, 2021 emilianos first victory of his maiden title year , and a race I remember watching and thinking. oh okay. so it’s time. With Max, even as a baby fan of both him and Lewis, I was always kinda like, waiting for the dog fight. And finally, lil bro has the car. Everything else was already in place. If u do watch my dumb list in order, which I recommend u do, u can actually c him get ready for 2021 over the years. His starts, and especially this one, become flawless, he has somehow learned how to manage his tires and dominate races in lesser machinery ((we dont talk about it enough. max has won races every single season he's driven in f1. every rbr car he's ever had, he got it home. that's a shooting star fr. thats a once in a lifetime.)) , he's patient, and still uncompromising, still unflinching. He's ready. We were not tho lmfaooo

Zandvoort, 2021 baby boys first home gp win. a lovely lil watch to feel warm and fuzzy inside and also just like watch him be the best driver on the grid at home

Russia, 2021 p20 to p2. Max in the rain, u already know wtf is going ONNN. A race for the GP girlies. SOOO so dope to watch a driver and an engineer orchestrate a comeback of that level in real time. A true privilege and I mean it wholeheartedly. I think GP and Max are soulmates like professionally. Also literally the funniest thing in the world when they're pulling into their lil positions after the race and my fav old man Lewis does a double take like that better not be who I think it is 😭

USA, 2021 listennn. it's 2021. I can't mention Max without mentioning Lewis. They took each other to realms of racing that F1 didnt even remember existed. When I tell u these bitches were 40 seconds ahead of everybody else. 40 seconds. In 2021. But yuh, the blond one set a purple sector with like 100 lap old tires to defend that win. 2021 was just very kind to the Circuit. Sexy sexy race

Jeddah, 2021 well if he's just some guy why does his pussy pop so severely. 😐 No F1 driver will ever serve cunt the way Max served cunt in Jeddah. Driver of the day for no reason other than pure fucking headassery. They said u can't move the culture by losing and that white man said hold on. That quali lap almost put a child in me. I am so sorry

((lil bonus from Zandvoort, 2022 like shut up imagine doing this to lewis hamiltondfmsnfksdlkjf))

Japan, 2022 2nd title win. And fittingly so, he would've lapped the whole field if the race had been completed in its full distance. 1 second faster than everybody else, still improving at the end. But its his recovery at the start that I wanna highlight here. On a wet track, awful conditions, mf sent it outside of t1 around sharl, not because he had to, not because his championship was on the line, but because he could. He went for it, no hesitation. Nobody else would go for a move like that. First, because they wouldnt be able to do it. Its an overtake that requires a control of the car that is left to the Hamiltons and Verstappens of this world. U put a wheel wrong and you’re done. Second, it just wasnt worth it. Rb was a rocket anyway, he would've gotten the lead back eventually. But that is not who Max is. Max refused to give up the lead for even a second. It has nothing to do with having a dominant car, its about racing. Max will always, always go racing. And I love him for it.

ty for reading 💝 I hope that u can return to these races again and again and find joy in watching our fav public enemy number one do his thing. He’s very good at it

[callmearcturus]

Okay, I wanted to catalog all of my switches bc I just keep getting them when they go on sale so I weirdly have a lot of them and I don't wanna forget which is what. So.

What the fuck are all of these anyway?

Haimu Whisper Silent Tactile

Bought these because I realized the portable keyboard I use for writing fic on the go was just, uh, noisy! It was loud, so these were on a huge discount and I was like "silent AND tactile, okay sure" and grabbed them.

I'm typing on them now! I love these things. They are super satisfying and good! I like them more than the boutique switches I got and they're about the same as the Gateron Kangaroos but without the noise, so perfect! Would recommend!

Akko Wine Red Linears

The pre-lubed variant. I got these on sale because I wanted lubed switches but was not and will never hand-lube anything. These might be the first switches I ever bought? They're fine, good firm linears.

But I'm not a linear fan, so I don't use them anymore.

Durock Shrimp Silent Tactile Switches

I got these for my mother's keyboard for work so it would be quiet and they are amaaaaaaaaaaaazing. They are pricey so I waited and waited and waited for someone to put them on sale. Fucking worth it. They sound nice and deep but quiet and they have a good level of feedback. Maybe my third fave tactile, and a must-have for quieting down a spacebar.

Akko Lavender Purple Tactiles

Ah yes the cream of the crop for cheap switches. Honestly, god bless Akko for making really good budget switches. These were my first tactiles, and instantly I was converted to Tactile Life. Now, I find the resistence on them too low, but also I am a bit of a freak who liked a lot of resistence and feedback on the switch, so these are still very good for non-freaks.

Gateron Aliaz Silent Tactile

Andy sent me a couple of these in a trade, and they were life-changing for quieting my fucking spacebar, but wow these are tactile? I am playing with this switch in my hand right now and it doesn't feel tactile to me at all??? But it absolutely does its job. I'm of the opinion you NEED a silent for a spacebar, it's mandatory.

Akko Jelly Pink CS Linear

I think these came with my mother's keyboard when I bought it for her, but I swapped them all out for Durock Shrimps. However, these are perfect nice switches! I like them! I realized from these that I really like the box stem. Maybe I'm making it up, but they seem like they are more stable. These are perfectly fine linears. Good sound!

Gateron G Black Linear

These came on my portable keyboard and like 5 of them had bent pins, so wasn't a huge fan and have swapped them out.

I mean they aren't bad, they are SILKY smooth linears with medium-push so I did use them for a few days, but... Linear bores me. I see why its a Gamer Switch tho, it's nice and quick.

AKKO Jelly Purple Tactile

I forget why I have these, they came with something.... They're similar to the Lavs, but are firmer and have the box stem, so I kind of like them more than the Lavs? I think they would be perfect to put on your modifier keys while running linears on the alphas, which is a technique to avoid mis-hitting mods.

I have better tactiles than this but they are solid.

NK_Silk Olivia Rosette Linears

D'AWWWW MY FIRST SWITCHES. They came on my very first keeb, which I used to write the majority of KTOWL.

These are pre-lubed and are even smoother than the Gat Blacks. They are unfortunately the opposite of the touch profile I want, but they are super high quality for the linear gang.

AKKO Jelly Blue CS Tactile

what do you mean these are tactile, what

I mean, I LOVE these. I got these on an AKKO board and I fully intended to swap out the switches for my own fancier, handpicked ones, but I liked the feeling of these so much I left them on for like two months before swapping out.

I can't believe their tactile. I mean, I'm playing with one now and I guess I feel it, but it's like the most gentle, polite tactile ever.

Jwick Taro Tactile

MY FIRST REAL BELOVED. These were on sale (gosh, recurring theme here) and I love purple and taro so obvsly had to have them.

Unlubed, box stem, no wobble. The POM stem hitting the nylon housing makes for VERY good sound. I love the feel of these guys. I love the pop, I can just fidget with one of these all day. GOOD SHIT.

Gateron Kangaroo Tactiles

This and the Haimu are fist-fighting for my fave switch. I love these. They are bossy, aggressive tactiles with a solid pop. They are bouncy lil shits with a great sound. Noisy, so I would only run them under thicker keycaps like MT3 or SAs, not Cherry. But man, under the right cap they are musical.

I think I just slightly like the Haimu because my main keyboard is the portable one with XVX caps so the quiet is currently better, but I will be using the Kangaroos again in the future for sure.

Black Gazzew Boba U4T Tactile

I waited months for the Gazzews to go on sale. On the main mech keeb subreddit, people swear up and down that these are The Best Tactiles, they're life-changing, they cannot be improved, etc etc.

They're.... fine. Better than Akkos, sure, but ranked under the Shrimps, Kangaroos, and Haimu Whispers.

I don't know why but they just don't thrill me. I can feel the difference in them, how they don't require a lot of downward pressure to actuate but they have a POWERFUL feedback bump. I feel like I should like these! I want my tactiles to drag me into an alley and punch me in the face when I press them, and these have that profile.

But I just don't love them. I swapped them out for the Kangaroos and Haimu Whispers. These are all sitting in my commemorative Waypoint Radio coffee cup on my desk.

OKAY THAT'S EVERYONE. I am gonna keep this as a reference for myself so I don't pick up a switch and go "uuuuuh wtf is this again."

[demxnicprxncess]

50 shades of grey with sub kit walker and dom female reader please? 🥺

This going to have two parts because I can only to 2 before losing motivation.

Taglist: @kitwalkersgfff, @ppawmpkin, @yes-divine-ruler, @quicksilversg1rl, @charsdunkie lmk if you would like to be added or removed my dears.

50 Shades of the Walkers.

I turned down my music in my car, still humming the tune of "Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel. I pulled into the little gas station that looked slightly abandoned. I had noticed a brown-haired man with the cutest little face. He looked like he was a little bit of a softie. I smiled as I got out of my car and walked into the shop part. "Hi, do ya think you could help me with the gas?" He smiled and nodded walking down to my car with me. I handed him the cash and watched as he pumped the gas for me. "You're kinda cute." He smiled at me. "Thanks." "I can pick you up after work and we can hang out at my house..." He flashed me a smile again making me return it. After a couple of hours, I came back and seen the same man waiting.

That's how it all started. I met Kit and we were so attached. He'd began sleeping at my house randomly and always questioned what was in my secret room and today would be the day I'd show him. "Now Kit, you can't get scared and try to leave me... I swear to every God there is I would never hurt you." His face looked purely scared for his little life as I twisted the doorknob before opening the door. The room filled with red padded walls a huge bed in the middle, ropes, whips, chains, and even an assortment of hand cuffs are on the walls. I listen to hear any noise, but I don't, it's dead silent. "Kit..." He looked at me eyes wide. I was afraid I had scared away the one man in my life I would trade this whole life for. "Can we use everything in here?" I looked at him slightly taken aback. "Well, uhm sure but not now Kit." I saw him frown a little bit and give me the best doe eyed look he could muster up. "Momma, I just wanna use that bed... and maybe the handcuffs." I sighed getting ready to tell him no again but felt him come behind me and grind against me slightly. "Kit..." He kept whimpering into my ear before moving to place kisses on my neck. "C'mon momma, I'll be a real good boy... you can even peg me.." I looked at him stunned. He had been quite literally so against the idea of me pegging him. "Dear god Kit, you don't mean that. Hush." He kissed me and slowly walked me to the bed. "Well, since we're already here..." I glared at him. "You sneaky little brat." I layed him down straddling him. "Guess I get to peg you." His eyes widened in horror. "Be gentle momma.."

cliffhanger cs im evil like that

[tidalwhump]

Untitled Bloodbag Story - Bathing

Previous , Masterlist

Taglist: @deluxewhump , @whumpycries , @mylifeisonthebookshelf , @whump-on-a-log , @pigeonwhumps , @annablogsposts , @d-cs , @melancholy-in-the-morning , @inkstainsonmyhands12

Warnings: aftermath of consensual drugging, nudity, painful bathing, rough bathing, allusion to SA, flashback to intimate whumper, mix of whump and fluff, carewhumper.

Very long, 2.7k words.

The vampire came back around the corner with a tray in his hands, a bowl, a glass of orange juice and a small plastic cup with his medicine in it on the tray. He set it down on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. He then reached out and picked up the orange juice and the cup of medicine, holding the cup out to the boy.

“You need to take these before you can eat.”

“O…kay.” The boy stuttered. He reached out with shaky hands and took the dish of medicine, taking and chewing the pills one by one until they were gone, then he reached for the orange juice, but could barely pick the full glass up.

“Why don’t I help you?” The vampire asked, picking up the glass of orange juice and bringing it to the boy’s lips, tipping it up slowly so he could drink.

Once the boy was done drinking the vampire set the glass back on the tray, taking the bowl with the spoon in it and holding it out to the boy.

“Do you think you can eat on your own?” He asked.

The boy raised his arms, they shook as he brought them out to take the bowl, and the vampire pulled the bowl away.

“Why don’t I help you? You still seem weak.”

“Y…Yes pl…please…” The boy slurred.

The boy sat up more, leaning against the headboard. The vampire scooped up some of the oatmeal on the spoon and reached it out towards the boy. The boy opened his mouth and the vampire spoon fed him gently.

He would have been embarrassed to be spoon fed by a big strong vampire, but he was feeling so weak and out of it that he really couldn’t be bothered to care.

The vampire patiently spoon fed him the oatmeal, then set the bowl back on the tray and brought the glass of orange juice to his lips, tipping it up slowly to let him drink. Once he was done the vampire set it back on the tray and looked the boy up and down.

He was filthy, from head to toe he was covered in dirt and blood. Falling in the flooded ditch washed off some of it, but most of it stuck to his skin, leaving him red and dirty and covering up most of the cuts and bruises that the vampire assumed were there. Surely they must be, if he had been in a vampire lair.

“I know you’re still out of it, but how would you feel about a bath? I could help you — I don’t mind. I’m sure it’d feel good to be clean.”

The boy thought about it, it would be nice, but he really just wanted to sleep off the drugs. He hummed and the vampire put a hand on his knee, smiling at him, encouraging him.

“I really think it’d be a good idea, I’m sure you’re uncomfortable being so… grimey.” 

The boy nodded. “I…guess so…” He trailed off.

“Good.” The vampire said. “Now, I’ll help you up and into the washroom.”

The vampire stood and offered his hand to the boy.

“My name is Zola, by the way.” The vampire told the boy.

The boy looked up to him. “Cas…per…”

The vampire smiled. “Casper, nice to meet you.”

Casper took the offered hand, scooting to the edge of the bed and slowly putting his feet on the floor. As soon as he tried to stand, he started to collapse, Zola quickly grabbing his arm under the shoulder and helping support him.

They walked to the adjacent bathroom like that, Zola taking most of Casper's weight and taking slow steps to match his speed. Zola opened the door and they walked in.

The bathroom was cozy, the air very warm, but not stifling, just enough to feel comfortable in the boy’s almost naked state. It was a small bathroom with standard fittings that were much fancier than the standard. A rich natural wood cabinet sink with black fixtures, an ornate wooden framed mirror above the sink, a black toilet, a black and deep wood accented shower and a wood carved tub. Too fancy for a basement apartment, so much so that Casper wondered what the rest of the house looked like.

Zola helped Casper to the toilet and put the lid down, helping him sit down. Then he turned to the tub and started to run the water, making sure its temperature was nice before he put the plug in the tub and let it fill.

Once the tub was filled Zola turned to the boy. He looked so small and frail, scared, sitting there on the toilet, hunched in on himself as if his body would collapse. 

Zola put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you out of your clothes and your splint and get you cleaned up.”

Casper tried to stand, and Zola was there to catch him when he stumbled, holding him up. Zola looked at him expectantly, and after waiting for a moment spoke up.

“Do you need help getting out of your boxers? Or is it something else?”

Casper looked up at his face and winced at the look he got. He knew. He knew it was something else.

“I… I don’t want to.” Casper said quietly, turning his gaze to the floor.

“I’m hundreds of years old, you think you have anything I haven’t seen? Besides, I’ve already seen you naked, it’s nothing new to me.”

“That’s… That’s the problem…” Casper said shyly.

“Come on, the bath will get cold if you stall any longer.” Zola pushed.

Casper bit his lip, looking up at Zola, he did not look like he was going to budge, and Casper knew how cruel vampires could be, so he choked down his reluctance and leaned down.

He worked his boxers down his legs to the floor. He really didn’t want to be naked in front of this complete stranger, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He reached down to pick them up, but Zola stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Leave them, we can pick them up after.”

Casper stood back up, leaning heavily on Zola. Zola reached out and fiddled with the splint on his arm until it came undone, setting it on the edge of the sink.

Zola led Casper to the edge of the bath, holding him underneath the arms and taking most of his weight as he carefully stepped into the bath with one foot, then the other. Zola carefully lowered him down into the water. It was warm, almost enough to hurt, but just shy of that burning sensation. After so long in the vampire lair, Casper couldn’t complain, the water felt nice on his skin, it’s been so long, after all.

As soon as he sank up to his belly in the water, the scum started to come off, a thin layer of dirt and blood floating to the top of the water. It wasn’t enough though, he was still covered in grossness.

Zola knelt behind him, dipping a washcloth in the water and letting it soak up the water, then bringing it to Casper’s right shoulder and rubbing until the grime started to run down his back with the water.

Casper winced, and when the scrubbing got tougher, less careful as Zola tried to get the grime off, he cried out, wrenching his body forward, away from the hurtful touch. Zola grabbed him by the other shoulder and pulled his body back into the touch, continuing to scrub like it didn’t hurt the boy.

As Zola scrubbed his shoulder and down his arm and the blood and grime ran, so did Casper’s tears, falling with gentle plips into the tub below. It hurt, so much, but the vampire was strong, strong enough to keep him in place as he scrubbed the grime away.

Zola scrubbed down Casper’s right arm, then down the left, then he started to work on his back. As he scrubbed he agitated large bruises and scars and cuts alike, sending the boy into sobbing fits as the pain from when he was given those marks all came back to him. As Zola scrubbed fresh cuts worked open and warm blood ran down Casper’s back and into the water.

Occasionally Zola would take the washcloth and rinse it in the water, filling the water with clouds of red-brown filth. Then he would get back to scrubbing the boy until there was nothing left but raw skin and the marks that were left by the vampires.

Zola reached around to Casper’s chest, scrubbing down it as he reached around his body. He worked his way down, further, further, until he was cleaning something that made Casper’s sobs grow in intensity. He was rough with it like he was rough with everything else.

Suddenly his sobs quieted as the memories came back to him all at once and he was carried away to that time in the vampire lair with Jonah.

“I should have you like this more often.” Jonah cooed, a hand tracing from the boy’s hip to the skin where his pants normally rode, just below his belly button. The touch was whisper soft and sent a chill up the boy, which caused Jonah to laugh, his voice silky smooth. “You like that?” He hummed, “I can do more…” His fingers traced down…

When the boy came back, the scrubbing had stopped, the only touch being a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Casper? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, voice cracking as the tears came back.

He could hear Zola sigh behind him. “I asked you if you could lay back against the back of the tub for me, I need to do your legs.”

Casper obliged, turning so his back rested against the sloped back of the tub. Zola reached down into the water and took one of his legs, bringing it up so he could scrub it like he scrubbed everything else. Casper closed his eyes, tears continuing to fall at the harsh scrubbing that aggravated wounds fresh from the other day and from the beginning of his time with the vampires.

When Casper had been scrubbed from top to bottom Zola soaked the cloth again, agitating it to get the grime out, then he took some soap and put it on the cloth, creating a lather before he started to wash Casper’s legs.

He was much more gentle with the soap than he was with just water. Now that most of the grime was washed off there was no need to be harsh. Zola gently lathered up his legs, then asked him to turn again.

Once he was turned Zola washed his torso and between his legs, then his back, shoulders and arms.

When Casper had been soaped up Zola turned to his hair. He tried to run his fingers through the matted mess, only for them to get caught and pull on the not-so-white-anymore locks.

“Can you lay down in the water for me? We need to soak your hair.” Zola asked Casper.

Casper obeyed the vampire, laying down in the water so his hair was covered.

Zola wound his fingers into the tangled mess and tousled his hair, loosening the dirt, blood and grime and filling the water with even more muck. When there was a tap on his shoulder Casper sat up, turning his back to Zola again.

He could hear the sound of a bottle being opened, and a moment later a cold gel was rubbed into his hair. It smelt flowery and nice. First Zola rubbed it into his hair, pulling his fingers through the locks to break up the knots, then he gently scrubbed it into his scalp. The gentle massaging brought chills up Casper’s spine and he let out a soft moan.

Zola froze, then a breathy laugh met Casper’s ears and Zola continued to gently massage the soap into the boy’s scalp, causing him to moan softly again.

It felt nice, it felt so nice. It had been so long since he’d felt something this nice, since someone had been this kind to him. Zola had been rough only a few moments ago, but this, this made up for it. Casper leaned back into the touch, letting himself go as he got a scalp massage.

There wasn’t long before Zola took more conditioner and rubbed it into his hair. Then he took a comb and started to get rid of the finer tangles and knots in Casper’s hair.

It felt good, the comb running across his scalp, breaking free the knots with little to no resistance with the help of the conditioner. Casper took a deep breath and let out a big sigh, eliciting another breathy laugh from Zola.

Once he was done Zola instructed Casper to lay down in the tub again. He did so and Zola wove his hands into Casper’s hair, tousling it and running his fingers through it to get the conditioner out.

With a tap on his shoulder he sat up again, and Zola started to wash his hair with shampoo to get it nice and clean now that all the knots were out.

Casper was instructed to soak in the water again so Zola could rinse out his hair. When Zola tapped on his shoulder, Casper sat up and Zola stood, holding his hands out to Casper.

He tried to stand, but his legs shook and Zola caught him under the arms before he could fall. He looked down into the water, a dark red brown, then he looked at himself, spotless aside from the marks that couldn’t be washed off.

It had hurt, but part of Casper was relieved to be free from the vampire lair he’d been trapped in. His body still showed the damage, but at least some of the memories had been scrubbed away.

Zola looked at the boy as he stood, and for the first time since the time he’d been unconscious, got a good look at him. His body was covered in deep, swelling bruises hiding old ones underneath. Some were old and yellow, faint, but many were fresh, bright red, deep blue and black. They were layered on top of each other until they covered almost his entire back.

Breaking up the bruises were cuts and scars, one almost fresh one that was so deep it staggered across his backbone. Some were strange, oddly shaped, and others were more uniform. Among the scarring and bruising were bite marks, everywhere. Some were just two fine holes that broke through the skin, some were multiple teeth marks, and others were tears, large holes ripped into the skin and below. The marks were a multitude of stages through healing, the worst just starting to scar over.

Casper turned towards Zola and, leaning heavily on him, started to step out of the tub. Once he was out Zola retrieved a towel and set it on the toilet, then sat him down on it. He then grabbed a warm towel from the nearby towel rack and started to rub Casper dry. Once he was mostly dried off Zola ruffled his hair with the towel, then wrapped the towel around Casper’s shoulders.

“Let’s get you into your boxers again, eh?” Said Zola.

Casper nodded, standing up with the help of Zola and pulling the boxers onto his legs and up. Then Zola took the splint off the sink and put it back on Casper’s arm. Now that he was partially clothed, Zola led him out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom, leading him to the bed and helping him sit down. Casper lay down, and Zola pulled the covers up over his body, tucking him in and running a hand through his hair, smiling down at him.

“You can sleep the drugs off now, okay? I’ll be in to check on you in a bit.” Zola told him.

Casper nodded, and watched as Zola left.

[crystalelemental]

Unit Teambuilding - Neo Champion Rosa

Fun fact! Meloetta is my favorite mythical Pokemon. I adore this little Vocaloid baby. So I've been anticipating the day it finally got added. I always expected more of a seasonal/PokeFair kinda deal, maybe with Lisia, but apparently we're going full-on Master Fair with Rosa. So she's gonna be good, right?

General Overview Psychic Support.  An instant OHKO on my hopes for a Normal Meloetta that type shifts, but I guess the plus side is my Psychic army is ever-growing.  Also, she does type shift to Fighting, and all her moves seem to be Normal, as her sync is listed with Normal-type damage modifiers, so...I don't know, theme skills are weird.

Buddy Relic Song has AoE, and gives +1 crit, +2 to a random stat, and transforms Meloetta each use, with a passive giving +1 PMUN and SMUN each transformation.  Her first attack in each form applies Psychic or Fighting rebuff, she gets both, and each attack gives +1 Sp Def (Aria) or +1 Def (Pirouette).  Her trainer move is a pop +2 PMUN (Pirouette) or SMUN (Aria), with +2 team speed.  She is the most consistent moves up next stacker in the game, with the most consistent fast-acting stacks in the game at present for either offensive type.  And that's just her base kit, with two moves.  She has Potion, and changes between Sing in Aria, and Teeter Dance in Pirouette.  Her grid provides options like Precision Pals, MPR1 for even more stacking, Force Field/Team Stoic to get some guaranteed defenses, Curative Confusion for passive regen, Easy Pickings for random debuffs on foes, double Potion MPR, and Go Viral in case you really need Sing to just mess with the whole team, but I actually think Go Viral sleep is detrimental at this point in my life.

Rosa's rotation is fairly clear, at least to me.  Spam Buddy move out the gate, while your allies handle boosting Atk/Sp Atk by themselves.  By the time they're done, you're around first sync, which Rosa takes, getting Support EX buff.  She then kicks in Sprint role and ramps so you're guaranteed second sync before foe's first.  Then you either use Buddy move once to get to the form you want, or go straight to TM to stack moves up, until the opponent dies.  There is no mercy.  Only Meloetta.

Rosa's problems, however, are just as apparent. The main one is her Buddy move conditional. She needs to "not be in a pinch." Which is that red blinking HP level around 25%. Heavy hits in CS are a massive threat to her, and if she's taking Half Healing as a parameter, which is often free money in CS, it's hard to get her back on track. She also can't reliably buff Atk/Sp Atk, which means she's excellent for top-tier self-sufficient damage dealers, but pretty bad otherwise. Also she needs partners with good DPS attacks; low DPS gets borderline nothing from her. Another flaw, and this seems to be a personal stance, is that Sing is a bad decision. Yes, I hear you, general meta theorists. Sleep is insanely powerful and broken as a status for disruption. But it also means Rosa can't queue another action before the foe re-queues, which means if she's sleep-locking, she's not doing literally anything else. It also means having to run Troublemaker as a lucky skill to hit literally anything ever, because 45% accuracy. Even with the +20 accuracy she can get from grid, which is expensive and removes her better utility, AND the Precision Pals effect on TM, that's...around 85% accuracy. Which is still far too shaky to rely on. But she doesn't get Vigilance, so you're leaving yourself wide open on crits.

Which brings us to the big flaw. My first opinion of Rosa was "this seems kinda tame." It's because her grid sucks ass. Her kit does a lot, but considering that Blue not only had a super good base kit but also got an absurd grid that gave him even further tools that were unnecessary? Rosa feels like she should be getting more than this. Her tools are underwhelming on grid, and it's hard to build anything overly cohesive out of it. And like...no built-in Vigilance? I thought we fixed this shit with Melony; if you have Sing, you want Vigilance on grid so you can take Troublemaker, otherwise you're Elio, who is bad. Melony got this, but somehow Master Fair Rosa didn't? Why? This isn't exactly a tall order if a general pool can do it. Even her ability to boost team defense is +1 per attack, similar to Blue, but without his offense debuffing and chance for flinch. They even have the audacity to make them two separate skills on opposite ends of the grid. Rosa's grid legitimately feels like one of the worst all year for very little reason.

My stance on Rosa lands somewhere between "This is the best support in the game" and "Oddly under-kitted." Depending on partner, she's either the unquestionable best partner for 3v3 content given her stacking and defensive backbone with healing, or she's accomplishing next to nothing because her kit locked her into one niche unlike NC Blue who got to do literally everything at the same time. I think if the grid were less garbage, she'd have an argument for being better than him. But as it stands, she's at home among the other Master Fair support, but I don't know if I'd call her strictly better than Bede, and certainly not better than Blue. Which is just typical Kanto bias shit. My favorite couldn't just lose to Kanto, but to Zapdos? Rude.

EX, Role, and Move Level? If you're looking at Rosa like damn.  I wish I had that kind of stacking power.  1/5 has all you need.  Legitimately, she's fine 1/5.  EX is a good idea for the stats, given her buddy move conditional, but you only need the one copy.  3/5 is when you just get silly with the defensive backbone she doesn't need but will gladly take, and some other niche tools that don't do much because again, I do not respect her grid.  The EX Role is honestly one of the most worth it things ever.  Support/Sprint is one of the best combos in the game, and my pick for outright best.  It's perfect pace for 3v3 metas, ensuring two syncs before foe's first even without quad queue, denial, or Adrenaline.  Supremely worth it. And good news! She's the first and currently only Sprint sub-Role! So you have the cake. Choose wisely though, because there's good odds of SST Red and Aura Cynthia at the start of the year with roles, and I have a feeling Cynthia's getting Sprint.

Team 1: NC Rosa, SS Lana, SS Lusamine Alright let's start with one on-type pick each, the best of each kind.  Lusamine Hours.  Rosa's +1 crit is all Lusamine needs for a successful fast-ramping nuke, and the ability to stack both types of Moves Up Next means both Lana and Lusamine fire at maximum capacity at all times.  With a defensive-minded grid, she is able to consistently provide what Bede could not: a serious means of survival in High Score.  Potion's pop heal just doubles down on this flexibility, achieving an absolutely bonkers performance.  With Lana and Lusamine already fast-ramping to Lusamine's transformation, and Meloetta's Sprint role, she even contributes meaningfully to the ongoing Psychic Ramp meta.

Team 2: NC Rosa, NC Hop, Rei "But Aura Cynthia-" redundant.  Rosa stacks harder than Cynthia could ever imagine, and the rebuff is much better than duplication of Zone.  And with Rei's Sprint role, welcome to fast ramp central, complete with sure-flinch lockdown and rapid defensive drops.

Team 3: NC Rosa, Anni Lillie, Renegade Cynthia Okay, time to start getting a little silly with it.  NC Rosa's ability to boost team speed, as well as boosting both offenses, anchors a dual strike opportunity like Lillie and Cynthia.  Anni Lillie has tremendous DPS, and adores the stacks of SMUN.  Meanwhile, Cynthia has the ability to store one type of moves up for the other, including a potential explosion off of Shadow Force.  Having both options at her disposal allows Cynthia to just go ballistic here.

Team 4: NC Rosa, SS N, Glaceon/Colress As alluded to in the previous set, one thing Rosa can be incredibly funny for is the 2-turn move nuke. SS N's Freeze Shock is bullshit powerful, having 300BP at base. Now consider a situation where N gets to throw out Freeze Shock, but he's loaded up with PMUN. And also there's either Zone, or there's Def debuffs. Are we really...going to argue this one? I might actually, a non-EX SS N often fails me. Two-turn damage is still a problem.

Team 5: NC Rosa, SS Hilda, Blaine/NC Leaf SS Hilda is similar to Renegade Cynthia, being extremely high damage, but having both physical and special moves available.  She can DPS nuke both ways.  Add in Sun, and her damage is frankly batty.  It doesn't even matter where the Sun comes from, anyone will do, but Leaf is the comedy hour option.

Team 6: NC Rosa, Nemona, Volkner/Jolteon Another fun option: Nemona.  Nemona operates on burst damage, she's not good at DPS.  Rosa's stacks PMUN for Nemona to throw around on her Buddy move as needed, while also having that coveted Sprint role for repeat fast-ramping.  Nemona instant ramps, Rosa ramps off her sync, into Nemona's sync, which is also a ramp.  Speedrunning. There's honestly an argument for Paulo in here if you have him. Just triple fast-ramp sync nuke deluxe, with two of them being Support.

Team 7: NC Rosa, Anni Steven, S!Liza Okay, NOW it's time to talk.  NC Rosa, because of her buddy conditional, approaches CS with a bit of apprehension around field effects.  The shuffling of parameters often means taking Offenses +5, which is when things get scary.  When she ignores field effects, Rosa is at her most devastating.  And with that in mind, enter one of my favorite cores, Anni Steven and Summer Liza.  Both of them have very effective physical DPS, with Steven having fantastic speed control and Liza having the ability to rotate in Free Moves Next and her own PMUN.  Rosa's ability to boost defense for the team off a 3/5 grid allows Liza to get to TM second turn with full Atk.  Her TM boosting team speed eases their rotation of offense as well, as they throw around ridiculous numbers.  And again, because Rosa can ramp with Sprint role, there's no more of this need for a denial to keep on pace.  Liza will sync, and she will kill.

Team 8: NC Rosa, Paulo, Emmet Sprint ramping is real, and Paulo was a huge proponent of it with his sub-Support role.  Paulo can take first sync to throw out his own Buddy move, which also removes Rosa's grid energy from defense boosting to put into other fun tools like Precision Pals on TM for their accuracy issues.  Paulo's GMax having Sandstorm application, and his free -2 with Emmet's -1 TM in Sandstorm composing a fast-ramp, makes this a fairly strong Sandstorm core.  That can then pivot into Rosa taking second sync for further ramping, with double Support EX bonus and massive stacks of moves up next on both allies.  The accuracy here is key; Rosa's ability to grid in accuracy salvages the issues I have with Paulo's base kit.

Team 9: NC Rosa, Roxie, Looker I want to use this opportunity to stress something important.  When you're dealing with these heavy moves up next stackers?  +4 offense is sufficient.  Obviously, +6 is the ideal, but you can make do.  To that end, Roxie and Looker.  +4 offenses is just fine for them, with the moves up next stacks more than making up for the missing +2.  And with Rosa, there's always the chance that she rolls that +2 anyway.

Team 10: NC Rosa, Will, Brycen Okay this is really stupid but I realized something I could do and it was WAY too funny not to consider. So, Rosa has Teeter Dance, right? But no Stop Hitting Yourself. She partners with pairs who do, though. Mallow has poor offensive setup, and Sidney has poor DPS. But Will? Will has Stored Power. "But wait," you say. "Will has no self setup at all! How is he relevant?" Not so. Remember, Five Stats +3 is a thing. Will can simply copy and double their buffs, to get all his stats to +6 instantly! "Okay but...now you're dealing with stronger opponents." Not with Brycen here to Haze that shit. "Crystal this feels like a bad plan that could very easily backfire." True. But I bet it works.

Final Thoughts Rosa seems very good, and I am excited to try out her kit. I will acknowledge I think she also has some serious flaws which limit the teams she can support. She does not play well with sync nukers with low DPS, and she doesn't play nice with those who need full offensive support. But she does offer the best and most consistent moves up next stacking in the game at current, and given it's literally "every time you attack, +1 to both," this feels like a cap in the same way Aura Cynthia was. I doubt we'll get directly better than this any time soon. We just have to hope the Buddy move conditional isn't too great a burden.

[livetogether--diealone]

I don't have anything interesting to add, I just hate Carlos. It's really refreshing to admit this to myself because I disliked him pre-Ferrari but forced myself to cheer for him when he joined the team. And I used to buy into the reasoning that some adjustments to make Carlos more comfortable were okay in early 2022 because it would help the team if he wasn't ending in the gravel all the time. And I didn't want Ferrari to treat their 2nd drivers like Red Bull.

Even after Silverstone, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt - maybe the problem was Binotto and Binotto is gone. But with how his fanbase, the Spanish media, and the 1655 have been acting, I don't feel guilty about my Charles bias anymore or obligated to support Carlos because he drives for Ferrari. Fuck him AND the team. It is sooo liberating to realize that the fake tifosi discourse is absolute bullshit drummed up to elevate Carlos. Manifesting a DNF for him every single race that's left and fuck the team results. I have 0 patience for Ferrari left anymore.

tag so we can enjoy or avoid the rant -> drivers discourse

With consent i'm going to kiss you, you had me at the first line tbh.

The fake tifosi discourse, which is more a thing on twt i guess, you have to be happy for a scuderia win no matter the circumstances, hell no, if you threw a driver i prefer under the bus when it wasn't strictly necessary because let's be frank no one was really going for CS even at the end, the only one was Charles and Ferrari memory still fresh of the 2019 undercut decided to take Charles' race and throw it in the bin, when they well knew he was going to keep that p2.

So no, I won't be happy for that especially, and I'll always roll my eyes at Carlos' success over Charles simply because I don't like him, I was neutral about him mostly i ignored him before he came into Ferrari, but even if the circumstances in which he came here should have made me hate him even more (Seblrina first human second) i waited and just kept disliking him. Do i have to strip myself of the Tifosi's badge? Fuck no, but this isn't the team i used to love. And we had seasons in which I disliked both drivers. But the dude bros on twt swear Ferrari well being comes first, well look at all the championships that got us, look at them Anakin!

So, to end it, they can take Binotto, CS, his piss poor entourage, Santander, the SF-23 and shove it up their asses, i'm gonna take my honor, my Charles and my Seb memory and hope for a better future whatever it might be. And if Charles truly leaves and Ferrari finally tumbles at the bottom of hell and never wins a championship and your driver becomes another laughing stock for the media, I'll be laughing and I will enjoy it.

[grahamcarmen]

Since we need more red crackle positivity around here,

I like red crackle for multiple reasons but I guess the main reason would be how much they care about each other even when their enemies, they want the other by their side thougth they (begrudgingly) have to accept that it's not gonna happen, finally getting a chance to reconnect and be with each other but deciding to let them go for their own safety because you love them, and that's just so beautiful.

Also how carmen never gave up on gray sure she had no problem leaving him when they reached an impasse but she always hoped that he'd come to the good side.

But it's also frustrating, like imagine being the worlds best thief and criminal electrician and being the dream team of the most dangerous criminal organisation in the world and having the emotional intelligence of a peanut that you think this person you really care about doesn't want to see you when they're are so many signs that they do i get that you don't exactly know how relationships work since pretty much all of them are complicated and non-trustworthy but that doesn't give you a right to break my hear like this.

Gah literally, they're enemies and directly opposed and STILL lollygagging to what they think is inevitable

Like even at the Himalayas its not over the moment he says I'm crackle for carmen until it becomes more and more explicitly clear that they're still enemies and the impasse has not been broken

But when they're allowed to care *is the other safe is their last thoughts* because they want that impasse to break

Like to be fair to carmen i think she does have an understanding of what she wants from working relationships she just also understands some lines shouldn't be crossed [killing morality] or terms accepted [just stop being CS ]

but u right the THINKING GRAY WANTS SAFETY AND NOT TO BE WITH HER MORE AND ALL THE AFTER THE INCIDENT STUFF IS JUST PEANUT BEHAVIOR (writers...)

I'm just crying because the impasse has broken! HE DOESNT KILL ! HES NOT STEALING JEWELS BUT HER BACK! He is on her side (tm) And then the rift is created by what carmen did this time 😭 and aaaah, cant stand it she thinks he almost died thinking she hated him

And then he's not even bitter??? He's the one in the hospital and he asks about HER??? His last thought is her??? Wtf

And then on his side??? She doesn't care about me :( doesn't need me complicating her life...

Dude...idk how to tell you but none of the situations you've been together in are situations that would be possible if she didn't want to be there. She would be hop skip where in the world instead

Had to watch with my own 2 eyeballs her constantly go gray 🥺 and...

Like it kills me that they are still soooooooo THEY ARE ALWAYS FOND OF EACH OTHER!!!

The lengths they go to for each other and still!!@

Like they love each other is the answer fr ahhhhhh they kinda clowns!! I really want to see them continue to develop! ! I genuinely want them together again and together period. grahhhh

[itsdappleagain]

CS WEEKLY: The Hot Rocks of Rio Caper Part 1

WOW am I late on these ones- almost a month behind. Oops. Finals season and being sick and all that. I’m getting these guys done on a plane…lets hope there aren’t too many typos w/out wifi. Alright- here we go with the Hot Rocks of Rio Caper (part 1)!

I actually adore this episode. This season is where we really get the ball rolling!! Like I said, we sort of have the formula and introduction out of the way and we can really start playing now >:)

Also some great capture scenes at the end/start of the two episodes

This is such a beautiful opening sequence. I LOVE that Carmen here is an unreliable narrator. That’s not something a lot of kid’s shows often do (I think b/c they think kids won’t be able to pick up on the fact that something they were shown was fake) but since then TOH has done it as well. It’s just a great look into Carmen’s mindset and it immediately sets the premise for the rest of the season (/show?) concerning looking for Carmen’s mother.

Pls she did poor young Shadow-san so dirty- she doesn’t remember him that young so I guess she just figured he had this super spindly beard/mustache combo which I find hilarious

LIL BABY CARMEN AND DADOWSAN…I know it isn’t real but damn is that cute

It’s also great to see Carmen be thrown so off-kilter by the S1 finale. It’s fantastic consequence to the whole…mother figure tried to murder me but she never saved me in the first place/guy who has sucked most of my life was the one who cared most of all the whole time scenario she uncovered

Le Chevre gets his casual wear!! Out of Carmen’s original classmates I think Antonio is the only one who doesn’t have a civilian disguise (until the taco truck)

I love this scene- its such a fun dynamic between Carmen and Player, plus it gives us a little insight into how they plan their capers. Carmen shrinking against the wall and putting her hood up, sneaking around- it shows that she isn’t always so bold and that she knows how to be subtle (ish- the red hoodie is a bit of a giveaway) when she needs to be.

(Side note- as I write this I’m technically in casual cosplay for Carmen’s outfit here with the red hoodie. I love wearing it!!)

CARMEN PUN UNAPPRECIATOR

After all these years….we’ve found Carmen AND Waldo

Carmen really is off her game here, even before she starts hallucinating. Right is the ONLY way Bowtie could have gone with that little disappearing trick- Carmen should know, considering all the lightpost/bus/whatever disappearances she pulls off with the same method.

The first time I watched this episode I didn’t notice that Carmen picked up two but only handed back one. Cool little trick she did

That shifty side-to-side look Bowtie does is always so funny to me

The way its only been a week are you kidding me. She got DEMOLISHED in that basement she was struggling to BREATHE a week ago she should NOT BE BACK IN ACTION

Also its been a week and the faculty are STILL asking Brunt about stuff wheeze

I do like the visuals, though- usually the faculty are all seated and stationary, but Brunt is pacing and Mael is faced away from her, standing and looking out the window (btw thats a window???). Cleo and Bellum are seated like normal, going through the regular rounds, but the positioning shows the suspicion of both Brunt and Mael.

RIP maelstrom asking brunt if she killed shadowsan and hid the body the tv-y7 was never good enough for you 

Im just imagining shadowsan going “your tracksuit is an ugly piece of shit”

Maelstrom is actually using a great manipulative tactic here- offering a mitigating factor with maybe some disagreements. He isn’t going all the way- still accusing her. But he’s offering her something to latch onto if she wanted to confess to a murder

Damn it seems like in this show you DO betray family

Do they even get the chance to accept/deny calls or see caller ID or could the police just call them and it would just patch through with no choice. Do they have a phone number

Why are maelstrom’s eyes kinda pretty though 😳

Damn

Julia’s head is so round

Not julia using the mints like smelling salts im CRYING i love her so much

The despair music only starts when chase doesn’t respond to “LA FEMME ROGUE” and i think that is SO FUNNY its not supposed to be but the comedic timing of the sad music and the zoom on devineaux’s face is so

“We need you” weak, unsupported, will immediately be proven wrong as julia takes the reins and SLAYS this season on her own

“And we need you to tell us that she did not do this to you” STRONG, SLAY, IN CHARACTER, DEVINEAUX DOES NOT FUCKING MATTER ITS ALL ABOUT JULIA TRUSTING CARMEN TO THE VERY END

Btw why is his heart going so fast

This show could have flourished even more without the tv-y7 rating. Player definitely thinks Shadow-san is going to capture or kill her, but Carmen trusts Shadow-san, which is why she looks so horrified near the end when Shadow-san “betrays” her

CS AU where carmen is the daughter of elon musk SAD

Were they just standing there staring at him or what

Where is his heart monitor attached

That wild boars searching for truffles speech? I was sick a couple weeks back and I FELT that

The zoom into the pupil flashback thing was cool

This show and its ability to make ANYTHING child friendly always astounds me. The seven year olds are going to be like “can we go to Carnevale mommy?? Can we go to Oktoberfest??”

Oh my god.

Brazil nut

I JUST GOT THAT JOKE BRAZIL NUT

“Ahh the favelas” that line plays in my head so often i dont know why

Thank god for carmen sandiego now i know how to say “no thank you” in portuguese

ITS OVER LE CHEVRE I HAVE THE HIGH GROUND

What experience does chase have with the backside of a reptile and why does he think shadowsan looks like tortoise butt

Look at that fabulous cross-hatching from agent jawline he’s got some talent yas

We came this close to having to witness chase devineaux with no pants

SAD. oh well NOW WE GET THE JULIA SEASON THANK GODDDDDDDDDDDDD

Does el topo’s VA voice the shady gem expert 

We love autistic zack

I LOVE ZACK that was a fantastic joke about the bride

Zack just stealing from the guy and giving it back to him is so funny im crying

Love how julia was just chilling in the hospital. Actually shows that she really does care- wanted to make sure he was okay

OR THE HOOD OF HIS CAR

JULIA IN THE ACME SUIT. SO HOT. ALSO AGENT ZARI PARTNERSHIP. NEUTRAL LEVELS OF HOT

The tourists watching some random lady watching their baby with binoculars: 👁️👄👁️

I also love the silent acting they animated with Carmen here- she drops the binoculars, looks up like ???, looks again, sees that the binoculars were not the only thing tripping, and shakes her head with a smile. Its a really cool little moment with no dialogue

Imagine if they had that exchange in new york city and ivy was like “the big apple aint the apple of my eye, if you know what I mean! The streets just keep goin’ forevah!!” like yes you two are in a residential area this is how cities work

The children just aggressively leaning towards him and then walking away

Le chevre just wants to live his furry dreams be nice to him

Yeah DAMN the character acting on carmen is good this episode. Next episode too actually

The tourists watching some random lady change clothes in the middle of the Christ the Redeemer statue area and then jump off a cliff: 👁️👄👁️

They actually animate carmen pulling the zip cord to release the glider again!!! I love when they do that

Yeah someone else said props to le chevre for finally recognizing them and hard agree its only like the fourth time

So if its not a disguise why were you confused about carmen. Being able to see who you were

That family is so chill about two strangers running through their house the kid is just like. Damn bitch keep staring i guess and then plays with her dolls some more

She doesn’t even look around the house

ALSO OUGH SHE’S SO FRUSTRATED I LOVE WHEN SHE GETS MAD ABOUT SHIT you are not immune to having emotion she is just THROWING herself around that house she is MAD

Not only is that the chillest family ever its the nicest one too. My god they even followed her to ask if she was okay and invited her to eat with them

THE LITTLE KID IS SO CUTE THO

Shadowsan: locks zack and ivy in a bucket

Carmen: SSHSHHLURRPP

Wait omg i forgot she eats here this is like one of two times she eats ever

The family is so sweet I love them they’re so. They’re so

“It is safe” sir I really hate to break it to you but there is an illegal mining operation on the next street over

SHE HAD THE HAT ON BACKWARDS

Ogh carmen you were being so nice to them and then you had to go and be quippy about it again

I dont know how she didnt trigger that thing BEFORE

Yessss carmen jump into the murder hole with no signal and no one knowing where you are and no tools…yes…smart…

Poor el topo was walking down the path with his eyes closed the whole time

HEHE I LOVE THE TONE CHANGE THERE- the normal caper-y atmosphere suddenly changing to carmen being cornered with nothing, signaled by that sinister little shift in el topo’s voice i LOVE THAT. carmen is on the defensive REAL fast

ALSO LE CHEVRE IS SO FUNNY he doesn’t even go to help he’s just like “I FUCKING TOLD YOU TIGRESS DIDN’T I FUCKING TELL YOU”

Tigress knows better than to fight carmen with her goggles on now

I also like the little display of carmen’s fighting style. I think this is one of the best examples of it in the whole show. She tries at first to just get out/past El Topo at the door. Then she tries every exit she can think of, only fighting where she has to. She is TERRIBLE in tight/closed spaces…really a defensive fighter. Great fight as always and I LOVE fights where there are more than one person involved we get them so rarely 

Btw carmen taking off the hat and coat? BAD idea everyone knows an absence of red means she’s going to lose REAL bad smh 

WILHELM SCREAM

She protected the face

The outrage when tigress “aww”s at her fshgfgf

Fedorable

Pls el topo is so gentle with her he just lowers her to the floor very nicely

Carmen is also SO emotionless about it she’s just like :| hmm yes they are going to inform coach brunt they have captured me i see this is interesting

MMMGH CARMENS FACE WHEN SHE REALIZES PLAYER WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG (SO SHE THINKS. SO MANY LAYERS OF DECEPTION)

OKAY thats the first episode done. MAN what a solid episode I love it!!! Okay- not much else to say, I’m movin on to part 2!

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 19: The Gingerbread Castle

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1986

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes:  This story was written for my “Christmas with Captain Swan” collection in 2020.

CS Genre: Neighbors AU

Killian Jones had been in love with Emma Swan since the moment she moved into the apartment across the hall three years ago.  The day she’d moved in would stand out in his memory forever, like a pivotal moment in his life where everything suddenly stood still and came into focus.

It had been a snowy, bitterly cold day in early December.  He’d been enjoying his morning cup of coffee while he read the newspaper when he heard a commotion out in the hallway.  A commotion, and a string of language that would make a sailor blush.

Curious, Killian stepped outside to see a gorgeous blonde woman in a red leather, fleece-lined jacket struggling to drag a sofa down the hallway.

“You look as though you could use a hand, love,” he’d said, quickly moving to the opposite end of the couch and lifting it.

“What I could use,” she said through gritted teeth, “is for the idiot mover I hired to actually do his freaking job and bring my stuff into my apartment instead of dumping it at the building entrance and slinking away.  Serves me right for picking a moving company called ‘Grumpy and Brothers’, I guess.”

Killian laughed as they maneuvered her couch through her doorway and then set it against the far wall under a set of windows.  “Is that the company with the tagline ‘We whistle while we work’?”

Emma groaned, swiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.  “Yep.  That’s them.  Anyway, next time you’re moving, pick a different moving company.  Any different moving company.  I guess I’m lucky I live on the ground floor, right?  Can you imagine what a bitch it would have been dragging that thing up a flight of stairs?”

Killian groaned at the thought.  “Anything else I can help you with?”

“I don’t want to put you out,” she said, hesitating.  “It’s Saturday, after all.  I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Hadn’t a thing in the world to do today, save for finishing the decorating of my Christmas tree,” he assured. “I’d be happy to help my newest neighbor move in.  My name is Killian Jones, by the way.  I live in 109 across the hall.”

Emma shook the hand he extended to her, and just the touch of her hand against his sent a jolt of electricity through his system.  Killian didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this meeting certainly had the feel of destiny.  “Emma Swan,” she answered, “in 108, obviously.”

“Well, Swan,” he’d said, “I’m at your service.”

They’d spent the better part of the day together moving her in to her apartment, and Killian was surprised at how easy it had been to talk to her.  It was as though they’d known each other all their lives.  When the day came to an end, Emma had tried to pay him for his help, but he’d steadfastly refused any remuneration.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he’d insisted, quite sincerely. “I’ve enjoyed the company.”

They’d parted not long after that, and Killian went home buoyed by the hopes and dreams of years to come living less than ten feet from the woman who could very well be the woman of his dreams.

The next morning, Emma had knocked on his door around 10:00 am with a tin of Christmas cookies and the intention to return the favor.

“Since you spent your whole day helping me yesterday,” Emma said, “today I’m here to help you.  It was your tree you were going to decorate yesterday, wasn’t it?”

It had been a pleasant, beautiful day spent decorating, watching Christmas movies and consuming an unconscionable amount of Christmas cookies.

They’d been fast friends ever since, rarely going a day without seeing each other.  They’d been there for the good times…and the bad times.

Killian had known from the moment she introduced him that Neal Cassidy was not nearly good enough for her.  Killian had supported her, trying to feign happiness for her when she told him she and Neal had started dating.  When Neal cheated on her with a woman named Tamara six months later, Killian had been there for Emma, doing all in his power to help her heal her broken heart.

He’d longed to confess his feelings, longed to tell her he’d never treat her so badly, that he’d love and treasure her forever, but she wasn’t ready.  She didn’t need a rebound.  She needed a best friend, and so that’s what he was to her.

Aye, Killian had loved Emma since the day he met her, which was why when she showed up at his door at seven a.m. on the Saturday before Christmas looking agitated and asking for a favor, he’d agreed without hesitation, no questions asked.

“What’s troubling you, love?” He asked.

“I’ve got to make a gingerbread house,” she said. “It’s got to be from scratch, and it’s got to be the best gingerbread house to ever gingerbread.”

“That’s quite the tall order,” he said. “What precisely has brought on this culinary endeavor?”

She’d glanced aside then, and the pain on her face was unmistakable.  Frowning, he turned her to him with a gentle hand to the side of her face.  “Swan, what is it?  You can tell me anything.  You know that right?”

She closed her eyes for a moment and then looked up at him.  “Storybrooke has this gingerbread house competition every year,” she said.

Killian nodded, remembering the day she’d told him about her hometown of Storybrooke and some of its quirkier traditions.  “Aye, I recall you mentioning.  I was under the impression you thought the contest was rather silly.”

“Well, yeah, it is,” she said, beginning to pace, “but…but this year Neal entered.  Neal and his brand new fiancee, Tamara.”

Killian took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, feeling sympathy for her. “And you wish to challenge him.”

“Yeah,” she said in a small voice.  “It’s just…I’ve wasted way too many tears on that son of a bitch.  I just want to show him that I’m not, you know, pining after him or anything.  He did me a favor showing me who he really is before things got too serious.”

“I quite agree,” Killian said with a decisive nod, “although I do wish you’d allowed me to put my fist through that bastard’s face after he cheated on you.”

She’d smiled at that.  “Trust me, I was tempted,” she said, “but if I’d decided to take the high road and not punch him, I certainly wasn’t going to let my best friend risk an assault charge just to, I don’t know, defend my honor.”

“Still,” Killian said, “the offer stands.  Give me the word, and I will gladly beat the fool to a bloody pulp.”

She’d stood on tiptoes then and kissed his cheek.  He’d closed his eyes, savoring the gesture, wishing he could turn his head and turn the friendly gesture into a true kiss.  Instead, he patted her shoulder.  “At any rate, I am at your disposal, love.  How can I help you win this contest.”

“Well, my first problem,” she said dryly, “is that I don’t have the first idea how to make gingerbread.  My second problem is that I don’t have the slightest idea how to construct a house, so obviously I came to the best architect I know.”

Killian grinned.  “I’m fairly certain I’m the only architect you know, love.”

“Still,” she said, “I’m pretty sure you’re the best out there.”

He felt his chest swell with pride at her compliment.  It was always like this with her.  She had always believed in him, and when she gave him her support, it made him feel invincible.  “Swan, I promise you this.  I will help you win this contest or I will perish in the attempt.”

She’d given him a stern look then.  “Oh no you don’t.  You aren’t allowed to ‘perish’, like ever.  I really don’t know what I’d do without you, Killian.”

His smile turned tender, and he’d cupped her face, caressing her face with his thumb before he could rethink the gesture.  “You’ll never have need to find out.  Now, I propose we go all out.  Why stop with a gingerbread house when we can build an entire gingerbread castle?”

It had taken them three days, but when Emma put the final gumdrop “rock” on the lowered drawbridge and they surveyed their completed work for the first time, Killian had to admit they’d done a damn good job.  The castle was two feet tall with magnificent crenelated turrets on all four corners of the keep.  It was surrounded by a curtain wall, and contained an inner bailey with two knights practicing their swordsmanship.  (Killian had wanted to rig up a motor of some kind to make the two figures, made out of modelling chocolate, actually move, but Emma had insisted it was overkill).

It was magnificent if he did say so himself.

“Killian,” Emma said, stepping back, “I wanted to thank you for this, all of this.  Not just helping me design and make the castle, but, you know, being there for me through everything.”

The lights of his Christmas tree flickered over her face, as he looked over at her, feeling like his heart would burst.  “Neal Cassidy is a bloody fool, Emma,” he murmured, stepping up to her, and cupping her face in both hands.  “Any man who would fail to see what an extraordinary woman you are doesn’t deserve you.”

She was silent for a long moment, looking intently at him, as though looking for a lie.  After a moment, a single tear fell from her eye and he wiped it away with his thumb.  “I think maybe I was the fool, Killian, to ever fall for him in the first place when…”

“When what?” he prompted.

“When I had the real deal, Mr. Right himself living right across the hall,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Killian felt his heart turn over at her admission.  Was…was it possible that he’d been mistaken?  Was it possible his feelings weren’t unrequited after all?

As though to answer his unasked question, Emma took the final step toward him, brought his head down to hers and kissed him as though her life depended on it.

The kiss went on and on.  One kiss melting into two and three, and then they were engaged in a full blown make-out session on his couch.

“Will you come home with me this year?” she asked in a breathless voice when they finally came up for air.

“Of course,” he said, running a hand through her hair.  “I have to witness our moment of triumph when our gingerbread castle wins the grand prize, after all.”

She grinned up at him.  “That the only reason you said yes?”

He turned serious.  “Swan, you know it’s not.”

“Good,” she said, “because I was kind of hoping I could introduce you to my parents as my boyfriend.”

He leaned over and kissed her again, couldn’t help it.  That first kiss seemed to have opened the floodgates, and he suspected he’d never be able to get enough of this woman.  When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. “Nothing in this world would please me more than to go home with you as your boyfriend.”

They did, of course, win the grand prize in the gingerbread house contest.  Killian suspected he would have found great joy in the disappointment and frustration and outright jealousy on Neal Cassidy’s face, but as it happened, he didn’t even see it.

He had eyes only for the woman who he hoped would be his present, his future and his everything.

Perhaps he ought to send Grumpy and Brothers a thank you.  Turns out, their incompetence was the best thing that ever happened to him.

NEXT CHAPTER->