#John Patrick Author

[kevinklehr]

Book Review - Dublin Bay by John Patrick

This novel would make an excellent film. It has all the elements of a box office smash or a highly streamed miniseries. Period drama. Likeable characters. Sneaky dealings. A love story. Two teenage boys meet one evening just before the second world war. James is Irish and from a very poor family. Otto is the privileged son of a German diplomat stationed in Dublin. Otto engages James and his…

[slaughter-books]

Day 11: JOMPBPC: Books With Maps

Four beautiful books and four beautiful maps!

🧡💛💚💙

[mariocki]

All Passion Spent: Episode 3 (1.3, BBC, 1986)

"I realise that he wanted me to enjoy all his beautiful things, but what did he imagine I could do with so much money? I can't believe, Mr. Bucktrout, that he knew what he was doing when he left all this to me."

"In the eyes of the world he has conferred a great benefit on you, Lady Slane."

"I know. I know, but I never wanted anything but to stand aside. Something, it seems, that this world of ours won't allow even at the age of eighty-five."

"Well, even the smallest planet is compelled to circle round the sun."

"Yes, but does that mean that we must all, willy-nilly, circle round wealth, position, possessions? I thought that I had escaped from all those things, Mr. Bucktrout, and now Mr. Fitz... of all people... he pushes me back into the middle of them. What am I to do? What am I to do? I always preferred the works of God to the works of man, because they're given - freely - to anyone who can appreciate them, pauper or millionaire. Does that make sense?"

"It makes perfect sense."

[queer-ragnelle]

Hi-Lo Arthuriana

Have a high interest in Arthurian Legend but low readability?

Here's a collection of adapted or abridged books to help ease you into the literary tradition. This list is ordered from simplest to most complex, beginning with picture books and ending with "translations" of Middle English texts into modern English or abridged versions of longer texts such as the Vulgate. Books in a series are numbered.

As always, if the book is still in print, I link to the Internet Archive to read, Goodreads to learn more, or where you can purchase. Supporting living authors is very important! Otherwise, enjoy a PDF, on me, to keep the legacy of these authors alive.

Picture Books

Young Merlin (Young Series #1) by Robert D San Souci & Jamichael Henterly (1989)

Tales From the Mabinogion Gwyn Thomas, Kevin Crossley-Holland, & Margaret Jones (1992)

Sir Gawain and The Loathly Lady by Selina Hastings & Juan Wijngaard (1985)

The Quest for Olwen by Gwyn Thomas, Kevin Crossley-Holland, & Margaret Jones (1988)

The Kitchen Knight by Margaret Hodges & Trina Schart Hyman (1990)

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight by Selina Hastings & Juan Wijngaard (1991)

The Tale of Taliesin by Gwyn Thomas, Kevin Crossley-Holland, & Margaret Jones (1992)

Young Guinevere (Young Series #2) by Robert D San Souci & Jamichael Henterly (1992)

The Knight with The Lion by John Howe (1996)

Young Lancelot (Young Series #3) by Robert D San Souci & Jamichael Henterly (1996)

Young Arthur (Young Series #4) by Robert D San Souci & Jamichael Henterly (1997)

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight by Michael Morpurgo & Michael Foreman (2004)

Perceval: King Arthur's Knight of The Holy Grail by John Perkins & Gennady Spirin (2007)

Comics

Prince Valiant by Hal Foster & many others (1937-present)

Camelot 3000 by Brian Bolland and Mike W. Barr (1982-1985)

Arthur, King of Time and Space by Paul Gadzikowski (2004-2014)

Tristan & Isolde: The Warrior and The Princess by Jeff Limke (2008)

Muppets King Arthur by Paul Benjamin & Patrick Storick (2010)

Gradalis WEBTOON [carrd] by @kochei0 (2021-present)

Chivalry by Neil Gaiman & Colleen Doran (2022)

Children's Chapter Books

The Adventures of Sir Lancelot the Great (The Knights' Tales #1) by Gerald Morris (2009)

The Adventures of Sir Givret the Short (The Knights' Tales #2) by Gerald Morris (2009)

The Adventures of Sir Gawain the True (The Knights' Tales #3) by Gerald Morris (2013)

The Adventures of Sir Balin the Ill-Fated (The Knights' Tales #4) by Gerald Morris (2013)

The Legends of King Arthur: Merlin, Magic, and Dragons (#1-#10) by Tracey Mayhew (2020)

Intermediate Retellings

The Idylls of The King by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1859)

The Story of King Arthur and His Knights (#1) by Howard Pyle (1903)

The Story of the Champions of The Round Table (#2) by Howard Pyle (1905)

The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions (#3) by Howard Pyle (1907)

The Story of The Grail and The Passing of Arthur (#4) by Howard Pyle (1910)

Hero Myths & Legends of the British Race by M. I. Ebbutts (1910)

The Squire’s Tale (The Squire’s Tales #1) by Gerald Morris (1998)

The Squire, His Knight, and His Lady (The Squire’s Tales #2) by Gerald Morris (1999)

The Savage Damsel and The Dwarf (The Squire’s Tales #3) by Gerald Morris (2000)

Parsifal’s Page (The Squire’s Tales #4) by Gerald Morris (2001)

The Ballad of Sir Dinadan (The Squire’s Tales #5) by Gerald Morris (2003)

The Princess, The Crone, and The Dung-Cart Knight (The Squire’s Tales #6) by Gerald Morris (2004)

The Lioness and Her Knight (The Squire’s Tales #7) by Gerald Morris (2005)

The Quest of The Fair Unknown (The Squire’s Tales #8) by Gerald Morris (2006)

The Squire’s Quest (The Squire’s Tales #9) by Gerald Morris (2009)

The Legend of The King (The Squire’s Tales #10) by Gerald Morris (2010)

Abridged Medieval Literature Translations

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight (Unrepresented #1) by Jessie Weston (1889)

Tristan & Iseult (Unrepresented #2) by Jessie Weston (1899)

Guingamor, Lanval, Tyolet, Bisclaveret (Unrepresented #3) by Jessie Weston (1900)

Morien (Unrepresented #4) by Jessie Weston (1901)

Sir Cleges, Sir Libeaus Desconus (Unrepresented #5) by Jessie Weston (1902)

Sir Gawain At The Grail Castle (Unrepresented #6) by Jessie Weston (1903)

Sir Gawain & The Lady of Lys (Unrepresented #7) by Jessie Weston (1907)

The Story of Sir Galahad by Mary Blackwell Sterling & William Ernest Chapman (1908)

The Romance of King Arthur and His Knights of The Round Table by Alfred W Pollard & Arthur Rackham (1917)

Le Morte d'Arthur by Keith Baines (1962)

The Lancelot-Grail Reader by Norris J. Lacy (2000)

Lancelot and The Lord of The Distant Isles by Patricia Terry, Samuel N. Rosenberg, & Judith Jaidinger (2007)

The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnell by David Breeden (????)

Informational Resources

Warriors of Arthur by John Matthews, Bob Stewart, & Richard Hook (1987)

The New Arthurian Encyclopedia by Norris J. Lacy (1991)

The Arthurian Companion by Phyllis Ann Karr (1997)

The Arthurian Name Dictionary by Christopher W. Bruce (1999)

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.

As Eddie fights for his life, how far can his psyhiatrist go to save him when she finds out he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because of Eddie's innocence, but because they have developed feelings for each other over time. In the midst of all this confusion, a series of secret experiments on patients in the mental hospital and a series of dark secrets make everything more difficult.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, Explicit Sexual Content, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.

Before you read:)

This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.

Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. read on ao3

Dr. Oliver Owsen was deeply interested in what Arthur had been doing. In short, he was searching for someone named Ginny. After checking all the hospitals, he had come here as a last resort. One of the reasons that brought him here was that Dr. Arthur had also worked at the last hospital where Ginny was seen—at least, that’s what Violet had learned. 

Who was Ginny? How did Oliver know her? Why was he looking for her? Frankly, Violet didn’t care much. The only thing she cared about was that she was tired of all the dirty dealings in this hospital always going unpunished. Someone needed to expose everything happening in this place.

Apparently, Violet no longer had the authority or power to do that. But she could help someone who did—namely, Dr. Oliver Owsen.

After finishing her therapy session with Oliver, she glanced over at Eddie, who was whispering but speaking heatedly with someone in the corner. Because of his fluffy curly hair and tall stature, she couldn’t see who he was talking to.

She went over to John and Max and gestured toward them with her head. “What’s going on over there?”

John rolled his eyes and sighed. “Our only ticket out of here just flew out the window. The guys who were supposed to get us out have now come inside. ”

Violet frowned. “Steve is here?” John sighed again in frustration and threw himself onto the couch. “Steve and his buddy. Now we have two more people we need to keep safe.”

Violet wondered what they were talking about. Eddie’s anxious appearance was fueling the growing fear inside her. When the door to the common room opened, everyone turned their heads in that direction. Prosecutor Robert Hills had finally graced them with his presence.

As Violet tried to predict his next moves, she noticed Eddie clenching his fists and shooting hateful glares at Robert. The tension escalated as Robert approached; Eddie looked like a tiger waiting to pounce.

Robert, however, walked calmly as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t turned their lives into hell. Without looking at anyone, he went directly to Max, extended his hand, and introduced himself.

“Hello, Max, I’m Robert Hills, the prosecutor in the Eddie Munson case,” he said with a fake smile. “We’ve actually met before, but at that time, you had just come out of a coma. I understand you want to update your statement. The necessary procedures have been completed for your release. Come to my office, and we’ll update your statement. Afterward, you’ll be able to leave this place by the afternoon.”

When Max looked nervously at Violet, she nodded in approval. At least someone would get out of here.

After Max left, Eddie, Steve, and a blond young man approached Violet. When the young man extended his hand, Violet shook it and learned that his name was Jonathan.

“We need to make a plan with you. But not here. Where’s the safest place?” Eddie asked, quickly darting his eyes around at everyone. Steve and Jonathan shrugged and looked at each other. “They haven’t given us a room yet,” Steve replied. Violet raised her hand and said, “Max is staying in my room. She could return from Robert’s office at any moment.” Eddie put his hands on his hips and turned to John. John, somehow, had produced a chocolate bar and was eating it. With his mouth full, he looked at each of them in turn and said indifferently, “What?”

John’s single room looked like a five-star hotel suite to Violet. While the double rooms gave off the impression of a mousetrap, this one felt relatively spacious. Jonathan had brought a chair from the common room and was sitting with his feet propped against the headboard of the bed. Steve sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. John had sprawled across the bed so much that Eddie and Violet were forced to squeeze into one corner of it.

Eddie smiled and patted his knee twice—a wordless way of saying, “Come on.” Violet smiled back, got up, and sat on Eddie’s leg. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she rested her head against his soft hair. Eddie’s scent and warmth created a brief wave of calm within her.

John pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. “So, you want me to burn a little girl now, is that it?” he said, examining the lighter closely.

Jonathan replied, “Not burn her, just bring the flame close. If she gets scared, we can figure out if Vecna has taken her or if he’s still inside her.” John rolled his eyes and said mockingly, “ Of course she’d get scared, genius. Everyone’s afraid of fire.” Then, suddenly, he thrust the lighter toward Jonathan. Jonathan toppled off his chair, and Eddie’s giggling filled the room. Violet, sitting in Eddie’s lap, couldn’t help but chuckle as she felt the vibration of his laughter.

Steve said, “It’s not logical to burn her, but we could touch her with something heated by the lighter,” his face thoughtful.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “You do realize we’re talking about a person, right?” he asked.

John added dramatically, “Also, I don’t want to go down in history as an arsonist. I don’t want to be the first person people think of when they hear the word ‘fire.’ ”

Violet bit her lip, smiling. “I think you’re a bit late for that.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Eddie said, “Something keeps poking me. Dude, your bed is so uncomfortable.” He looked annoyed. John smirked slyly, and Eddie gave him a suspicious look. “What are you up to?” he asked.

When Eddie lifted the cushion on the bed, the pile of junk food, cigarettes, and cassette tapes underneath. Eddie turned to Violet with a mocking expression. “And we thought the real spy was Robert. Turns out the real sneaky one was right next to us all along,” he said.

Folding her arms across her chest, Violet asked, “How did you even get all this stuff in here?”

John put on an innocent expression, pursing his lips and raising his hands. “If you had a brother working here, you’d also have someone bringing you whatever you wanted,” he said.

Suddenly, Steve stood up excitedly. “This brother of yours… Can he smuggle anything in?” he asked.

Eddie placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, smirking. “I don’t think he can smuggle in what you’re thinking about, dude,” he said with a sarcastic grin.

Steve stared at Eddie for a few seconds, then raised his hands. “No, you idiot. I’m not talking about what you think,” he said.

As Eddie burst into laughter, Violet realized his joy came from being surrounded by his friends. Even in the midst of all this chaos, Eddie’s happiness was contagious. He was like a bond that brought his friends together. Somehow, even in these tough times, being with them gave Eddie a small sense of peace.

John asked, “Hey Steve, what do you need? What’s on your mind?”

Steve said, “If your brother can smuggle in a heater or something similar, Violet could say she’s cold in her cell and turn it on. That way, we wouldn’t have to burn Max, and we could still learn if she’s sensitive to heat.”

John threw himself onto the bed with a disappointed look on his face. “Brendon can only smuggle things as big as what he can fit in his pocket,” he said.

Eddie added, “And even if he did smuggle in a heater like you said, we don’t have sockets in our rooms.”

Jonathan turned his chair backward and leaned his head against the backrest. “Besides, Max is leaving in a few hours. So this plan wouldn’t work,” he said.

“Maybe you could’ve just asked,” said a sudden voice.

Everyone turned to see Max standing at the door. She rolled her eyes, walked toward them, and took the lighter from John’s hand. She lit the flame and brought her hand close to it, almost touching it. She didn’t react at all and then shrugged as she looked at them.

“I mean, there are five of you, but if I added all your brains together, it wouldn’t equal Nancy’s.”

As Violet looked on curiously, wondering who Nancy was, the others all nodded in unison. The three of them moved so in sync, it was like watching the three wise monkeys.

Max clenched her fist and held it out toward Eddie. Eddie mirrored her gesture and bumped fists with her.

Max continued, “I changed my statement about you, Eddie. The prosecutor said you might be able to get out of here in a day or two. Oh, and he’s waiting for you in his office now. As for me, I’m leaving. This madness is too much, even for me and even they call me MAD MAX.”

She finished her sentence with a laugh, but as she smiled, her eyes filled with tears. She hugged Eddie tightly.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Eddie. You’re the big brother I never had but always wanted. I’m sorry for everything that happened. I love you.”

It was clear that Eddie was struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He hugged Max back in return.

Violet silently made a wish: I hope it happens as she said. I hope Eddie gets out of here.

Eddie opened the door to the prosecutor’s office and stepped inside. He hadn’t bothered to knock, not even out of courtesy. He went straight to the chair and sat down. Prosecutor Robert was organizing files with the male nurse standing beside him. This nurse was the same jerk who had taken Eddie to his cell on his first day at the mental hospital.

Robert picked up a piece of paper, held it up in the air, and shook it noticeably. “Do you know what this is, Edward? ” he asked. “Eddie,” Eddie replied calmly. He hated being called Edward.

Robert continued, “This is your ticket out of here, Edward. It’s the petition Max wrote, saying you’re innocent. I could send it right now, this very minute, and you’d be a free man tomorrow.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was headed. “But?” he asked tersely.

Robert stood up and began speaking as he gazed out the window. “But your girlfriend and your friend will stay here. I don’t think you’ll ever see them again.”

He then picked up a blank sheet of paper and placed a pen from his pocket onto the desk. “If you write here that you take full responsibility for everything and claim that Max wrote the petition out of fear, then maybe I’ll give a statement saying you’re insane. That way, you, your girlfriend, and your friend can live happily here forever.”

Eddie crossed his arms and spoke with determination, “No. I’m getting out of here. Then I’ll take Violet and John with me. And there’s no way you’re going to make me do this.”

Robert leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk as he fixed his serious gaze on Eddie. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. Edward, if you don’t write what I’ve told you, you’ll be the only one responsible for what happens next,” he said in a threatening tone.

Eddie gritted his teeth. “What are you going to do? Rat us out again, you Snitch Snitchson?” he shot back.

Robert responded with a filthy grin. “How about we give your girlfriend a nice volt of electricity right in front of your eyes, Edward? Will you still keep up this defiance then?”

When Eddie walked out of Robert's office, his hands were trembling. The prosecutor had given him two days to think, but there was nothing Eddie needed to think about. He would never allow Violet to be electrocuted.

But he didn’t trust Robert either. If he wrote the statement taking responsibility for the crimes, he was told he’d be deemed insane and allowed to stay there. But what if it was a lie? What if Robert took that statement and used it as evidence?

In that case, Eddie would be doomed, and Violet would never get out of here. He felt like a rat cornered in a trap.

He walked into the common room and looked for Steve and Jonathan. However, none of his friends were there. His eyes landed on Brendon, who was trying to get an old woman to drink soup.

Eddie approached him and asked, “Where’s John? Violet? Or the other two idiots?”

Brendon paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the wall. “John’s in his cell. I don’t know where the two idiots are. I think they went to beg Manager Wilson to let them share the same cell. As for Violet, I last saw her with Doctor Oliver,” he said.

Eddie’s already frayed nerves worsened. He didn’t like Oliver at all; there was something off about that man, he thought. Deciding that John was the easiest person to locate, he headed toward the cells. Just as he reached the hall, he saw John walking toward him, grinning.

“Dude, you won’t believe what happened,” John was saying.

The only thought running through Eddie’s mind was: Wait until you hear mine, John.

John’s gaze turned to Eddie with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Eddie was about to start talking when he saw Steve and Jonathan approaching from a distance. He gathered all three of them and led them to the cafeteria. Since no food was served at this hour, the place was quiet. Once everyone sat around the table, Eddie explained the blackmail Robert had used against him.

Steve suddenly stood up and started pacing around the table. His tension was evident in every movement. “Dude, you can’t write that statement. It’s obviously a trap. He’s going to take that paper from you and have you executed. The guy’s too smart,” he said. John, however, responded with a hesitant expression, “But if you don’t write it, they’ll torture Violet.” Jonathan, trying to lighten the weight of the situation, said, “Do you think Vecna’s inside this Robert guy?”

Eddie frowned as he spoke. “Could be. The guy has this grudge against me that I can’t figure out. Anyone would think I killed all his loved ones.” Steve sat back down and took a deep breath. “So, what are we going to do?” he asked. Jonathan followed with a question that hung in the air. “Do we have to escape again?”

Eddie shook his head as he answered. “We can’t escape. Oliver told Violet that all the patients in Ward C have been moved. I’m sure they’ve locked the doors too. We’re stuck here.” Steve, searching for a glimmer of hope, said, “Max got out. They’ll help us once they realize we haven’t left.” But Eddie still had doubts. “What if it’s too late?”

At that moment, everyone at the table seemed to focus their attention on the door. When Eddie looked, he saw Violet and Oliver walking toward them. Rolling his eyes, he muttered in a jealous tone, “One day, I’m going to land a good punch on that Oliver.”

When Violet reached them, she sat next to Eddie and took his hand. Oliver, on the other hand, started shaking everyone’s hands one by one. When he reached Eddie, Eddie only touched his hand lightly and responded with a fake smile.

Violet spoke with a serious expression on her face. “Oliver has something to tell you.” Eddie turned his head as if uninterested, but curiosity was growing inside him.

Oliver began to speak. “I know about the experiments and filth that Arthur has done. And I know he values those experiments too much to destroy them all at once. Those patients are somewhere in this hospital right now. I know that. And I’m sure, after your escape plan, he’s no longer keeping those files in the manager’s office. He must be keeping them in his own operating room. I’ve tried to get in there, but unfortunately, I’ve failed. No one can enter there except the assistant he keeps by his side.”

Eddie’s voice broke the silence in the room. “I’ve been inside,” he said.

Everyone turned to look at him. John had his head down, staring at his shoes, as if he already knew the answer. “When they gave me the electric shocks... I was in his operating room,” Eddie added. John raised his head slightly and spoke. “There’s only one way to get in there, and I can tell you it’s going to hurt.” Oliver slammed the table in frustration. “Great. Just great. So how are we supposed to get in?” Eddie fixed his gaze on Oliver. “Why do you even want to help us? What’s in it for you?” This question made Violet squeeze Eddie’s hand, but Eddie’s mind was elsewhere. He could understand John—he had followed Arthur this far and ended up stuck here. Violet was in trouble because she wanted to help Eddie. And Eddie himself had become a target after uncovering Arthur’s experiments. But what was Oliver’s motivation?

Oliver pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, his eyes turning to Violet. “He’s not the first doctor to fall in love with his patient,” he said. Eddie was confused. Was he in love with Violet? He opened his mouth to say something, but Oliver, realizing the misunderstanding, raised his hand to stop him. “No, not Violet. Ginny. I fell in love with her. She was transferred to another hospital at the time. I planned to follow her to wherever she went. But I couldn’t find her anywhere I went. It was like she had disappeared. There was no record of her anywhere. At the last hospital she was seen in, there were reports of other missing cases. Guess who the doctor there was?”

John, clenching his teeth, answered, “Arthur.” That single word revealed the weight of John’s guilt.

Jonathan, processing Oliver’s words, asked, “So, one of the patients in Ward C that he’s experimenting on could be Ginny?” Oliver shrugged as if to say he didn’t know, but his expression showed he thought it was possible.

Steve voiced his thoughts aloud. “Since we can’t just go up to the guy and say, ‘Hey, experiment on us too,’ or, ‘Go ahead and fry us like potatoes...’” John paused for a moment and looked into Eddie’s eyes. Then he turned to Violet.

Eddie shook his head in refusal. Jonathan and Steve understood the situation, but Oliver and Violet were looking at them with curiosity.

Violet, unable to bear it any longer, asked, “What’s going on here?” Steve turned to Eddie, about to say something. “Robert made Eddie an offer…” he began, but Eddie kicked him under the table. Steve groaned in pain. Violet suddenly stood up, crossing her arms, and spoke in a stern voice. “ I said, what is going on here?”

Eddie realized he had no choice but to tell the truth. With a sigh, he stood up, placed his hands on Violet's head, gently pulled her closer, and looked into her eyes. "Robert said he’d declare me insane in court if I wrote a letter confessing to all the crimes. And if I don’t... he said he’d torture you," he said.

Violet frowned as she looked at Eddie. "You didn’t agree to write the letter, did you?" she asked.

Eddie’s voice trembled, and he struggled to find the words. "How could I not? Violet... If they touch you, I’d die. I can’t let that happen," he said.

Violet stepped back, her expression revealing her anger. "If you write that letter, Eddie, you silly, the first thing Robert will do is drag you out of here and take you to court. You have a chance to escape, Eddie. Nobody else here does, but you do. You will never write that letter," she snapped.

She stepped forward, placing her hands on Eddie's face. Eddie put his hands on hers in return. Tears were streaming down Violet’s cheeks. Eddie’s eyes were also filling with tears. "You will never write that letter, Eddie. Promise me," Violet said, her voice trembling.

Eddie found it hard to respond to her insistence. "Violet..." was all he could say. "Promise me!" Violet shouted, tears streaming down faster.

Eddie pulled Violet close and rested her head against his chest. He held her tightly as sobs echoed through the room, placing his head to stop hers. For a moment, silence enveloped them both.

Oliver broke the moment. "Actually..." he said, as though a new idea had just occurred to him.

Everyone turned to look at him. His expression suggested he had figured something out.

John intervened quietly, "This could be really dangerous."

Oliver continued to explain his plan. "Just five minutes is enough. Less than five minutes, even."

Eddie and the others tried to grasp what he was suggesting. John, however, seemed to have already figured it out. Still, the group turned their expectant gazes toward Oliver, waiting for clarification.

Oliver elaborated. "When they take Violet into that operating room, you’ll go into the operating room too, Eddie. Isn’t that right? They’ll make you watch as they torture her. The door will be open. There’ll be staff. There’ll be doctors, nurses. It’ll be a crowded room, and while everyone is focused on the girl being tortured, no one will notice someone rifling through cabinets and drawers."

Steve interjected, " Someone who works there..."

Jonathan picked up the thought, "Like Brendon. "

Eddie raised his hand in frustration and let out a hysterical laugh. "Do you realize what you’re planning?" he said, his voice full of anger.

Violet turned to Eddie and said resolutely, "Let’s do it."

Eddie shot Violet a sharp look, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her angrily. "Violet. I will never allow such a thing. Never," he said.

As Eddie’s anger made his breaths heavy, his thoughts echoed in his mind. He wouldn’t watch them torture her. Not for five minutes, not even for a second. The plan was to steal the files while everyone was distracted with Violet. But for Eddie, this was unacceptable. If he were the one lying on that table, he would do it willingly. He had done it before, and just remembering the pain made his whole body tremble. But for Violet, never.

"What if the files aren’t where you think they are?" Eddie asked, his voice a mix of anger and worry. "What if someone notices you before you even get there? And let’s say you get the files. Then what happens to Violet?"

Violet took Eddie’s trembling hand and brought it to her lips. Her gesture was meant to both calm him and provide comfort in this difficult situation.

John stood up and came over to Eddie. Trying to encourage him, he spoke softly, "Do you remember the song you sang to Violet, Eddie?"

Everyone was looking at Eddie with sad expressions. However, expecting him to agree to this plan didn’t seem very fair. The anger and helplessness within Eddie were written all over his face. John continued speaking.

“You've got to lose to know how to win,” he said. It was a quote from the song Dream On that Eddie had once told Violet.

“We won’t let anything happen to Violet. We all love her so much. But we have no other choice. If they send you to your death, then how do you plan to protect Violet when you’re dead? Don’t rely on me; I’m the arsonist. Remember? After you, I’ll be the first one they come for.”

Oliver spoke, trying to calm the situation. “We’ll be quick. We promise,” he said.

Violet looked into Eddie’s eyes with a deep expression. “Can we talk for a moment?” she asked. She took Eddie by the arm and pulled him a little further away from the others. Eddie was struggling to control his emotions. If he weren’t so ashamed, he would have collapsed to the floor in sobs. Violet’s determination, however, was hidden behind the tears in her eyes.

“I can endure five minutes,” Violet said. The determination in her voice made Eddie feel even more helpless.

“I know the dose they give. I know this torture they used to do in the past. As long as they don’t exceed a certain dose, I can endure it. When I confronted Wilson about it, he said they only give the ‘legally permitted’ dose. That makes it 100 volts. Five minutes won’t cause severe trauma to my body. I’ll just recover slower than you did. Maybe by then, we’ll be free.”

Eddie gritted his teeth as he looked at Violet. “No matter what I say, you won’t back down, will you?” he asked.

Violet slowly shook her head to indicate no. Her decision was final. Eddie realized that she would proceed with this dangerous plan with or without him. If it was going to happen, at least he had to be by her side.

Together, they returned to the others. The group, looking at them with curious eyes, was impatient to learn what their decision was. Eddie carefully raised his finger and pointed at each of them one by one.

“If anything happens to her, it’s on you. I will never forgive you,” he said. His face was serious and threatening. These words created a slight sense of relief within the group, but the fear was still evident in their eyes.

Oliver finalized the plan and distributed tasks. “Go and tell Robert that you’ve rejected his offer. John, you go and inform Brendon. When they take Violet, we’ll be ready. As soon as we get the files, you tell Robert you’ll write the statement he wants. When they take Violet to the infirmary, we’ll get you all out of here. But we can’t all fit in one car.”

Violet smiled. This smile lightened the tension in the room, even if just a little. “My car is still parked outside. I’m sure the keys are in the guesthouse. You get the keys, and we’ll find someone to drive,” she said.

Steve raised his hand and volunteered. “I’ll drive.”

When Eddie told Robert that he was rejecting his offer, the expression of shock on Robert's face said it all. He had been completely sure his plan would work, but seeing Eddie refuse the offer made it inevitable that he would become suspicious. In response, Eddie, thinking that Robert might already be suspecting something, bluffed, “You wouldn’t dare anyway.” But deep down, he knew Robert would.

In the dim light of the room, Eddie held Violet tightly. Today could be the day. They had to understand that sometimes you have to lose to win. His eyes had been brimming with tears since the morning, and now they were starting to burn. As the memories of what he had experienced in this room before came rushing back, he began to tremble.

When they started laying Violet down on that stretcher, he questioned how he had been convinced to go along with such a stupid plan.

He tried to stand up and go to Violet, but the guards immediately moved to grab him by the arms and forced him back into the chair. His attempts to intervene were futile. As they began smearing that gelatinous, sticky substance on Violet’s forehead, the helplessness inside him grew.

“Stop! I’ll write the statement! Wait! Don’t do this! Don’t touch her!” he shouted.

Violet looked at him and gave him a pained smile, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She slowly shook her head, signaling no. At that moment, Eddie froze. Was this all part of a plan?

The door opened, and Brendon entered the room. His icy blue eyes met Eddie’s, and he shook his head no. Eddie wondered why Brendon wasn’t rummaging through the cabinets and hurrying to find the files. His mind was in chaos… but deep down, he knew the truth.

Violet had planned everything, solely to prevent Eddie from writing that statement and taking the blame. There were no files to be found, and no one was coming to retrieve those stupid files.

Eddie was furious with himself for even thinking that the files might still be there. Those men had probably already fed them to the shredder.

Violet had warned the others to stop Eddie from surrendering himself and ending up in the electric chair. She had orchestrated this as a way to sacrifice herself to save him. And now, Eddie was forced to watch her suffer.

He struggled against the chair, but three men held him down tightly, making it impossible to move. The tears streaming down his face blurred his vision.

Robert walked around to stand behind Eddie, placed his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and forced his head to stay fixed on Violet. Leaning down, he mockingly whispered in Eddie’s ear, “I hope your freedom is worth this, Munson.”

Eddie tried to turn his head, but no matter what he did, it was useless. His movements were completely ineffective. Arthur stuffed a cloth resembling a gag into Violet’s mouth.

“Try not to scream too much,” he said before putting on his gloves.

Eddie was overwhelmed with unbearable helplessness. His voice had gone hoarse from screaming, and now all he could do was plead in faint whispers. Arthur turned to the nurse beside him and calmly gave instructions.

“Let’s start with 150 volts.”

“Please stop!” Eddie screamed. Manager Wilson and several guards had also entered the room, making it so crowded that it was difficult to move. Three guards held Eddie down firmly, while Robert kept his head fixed on Violet. Two nurses were holding Violet down on the bed.

Violet’s hands and feet were tightly strapped to the bed. One of the nurses was waiting to check her pulse, while the other was ensuring Violet didn’t move too much during the electroshock. The nurse picked up the electroshock device next to the machine and handed it to Arthur.

Everyone in the room watched in fear, wondering if Arthur would really go through with it. As Arthur prepared the shock device, a nun entered the room and stood by Violet’s bedside. “May God forgive your sins,” she whispered to Violet.

Violet’s fear-filled eyes were testing Eddie’s limits. Eddie was crying so much he could no longer speak. With all the strength he had left, he begged Robert.

“I’ll write whatever you want. I’ll sign anything you ask. Kill me right now. Please, kill me. I’m begging you, kill me but don’t let them touch her!”

Eddie glanced at Brendon, hoping he might help somehow, but Brendon was just standing there, frozen in fear, waiting for what was about to happen. At this point, only God could help them.

Dr. Arthur positioned the shock device on Violet’s head. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, then took a deep breath.

Arthur turned to Eddie and yelled angrily, “Shut him up, or I’ll increase the voltage!”

Robert grabbed one of the cloths from the nearby table and shoved it harshly into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie’s screams echoed throughout the room. Even God seemed to have abandoned them.

When Arthur pressed the button on the control panel, one of the nurses holding Violet checked the pulse in her neck. The other glanced at her watch while gripping Violet’s arm tightly. The nun standing at the head of the bed tried to steady the part of the electroshock device touching Violet’s head. The electricity was so strong that the lights on the ceiling dimmed and flickered constantly. Eddie’s guttural, animal-like cries grew more muffled.

Arthur spoke without taking his eyes off the device. “Let’s make it 200 volts.”

Brendon stepped forward and shouted angrily, “Are you insane?! You’re going to kill her!”

Arthur ignored Brendon’s words as if they were nothing more than the buzzing of a fly. He continued turning the dial on the machine to increase the voltage. One of the nurses holding Violet shouted in a panicked voice, “Her pulse is racing! She can’t take it!”

Violet’s initial screams had turned into gasps and choking sounds, as though she were struggling to breathe. Her entire body convulsed uncontrollably. Tears streamed from her eyes, and her entire body trembled, down to every strand of hair. Meanwhile, Eddie was writhing in helpless desperation, the nails of those restraining him digging into his skin.

Suddenly, Robert exclaimed, “What the hell is that? For Christ’s sake…” Everyone turned their heads to follow Robert’s gaze. The nun had momentarily pulled the electroshock device away from Violet’s head.

Violet continued to convulse. The electricity coursing through her body caused her muscles and joints to seize involuntarily.

At first, Eddie thought everyone was staring at him. But when Robert slowly removed his hands from Eddie’s head and stepped back, Eddie lifted his head and followed Robert’s gaze. Looking at the door, Eddie realized that everyone in the room was staring in fear at the same spot.

It all happened in an instant. When Eddie looked in that direction, he nearly fell off his chair in terror. The nurse standing next to Brendon was slowly rising into the air. Her pupils had turned completely white, and she appeared to be in a trance. Eddie had seen this sight before. Three times, to be exact: with Chrissy, Jason’s friend Patrick, and Violet.

It was him. Vecna was here.

As everyone ran toward the nurse now floating near the ceiling, Arthur, Wilson, and Robert seemed frozen in shock, rooted to the spot. Eddie’s thoughts were clear: He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t a killer. The proof was here, alive, for everyone to see. Now everyone would know that Eddie hadn’t made all this up and that everything he’d said was true.

When the nurse’s right arm suddenly snapped, everyone in the room started to scatter in panic. Female nurses and nuns were screaming at the top of their lungs. Eddie began crawling on the floor, trying to make his way toward Violet’s bed. He didn’t care about the kicks and stomps from the frantic people running past him. He couldn’t control his hands or feet out of sheer terror. His brain had shut down, and his movements were reduced to instinctive thrashing. Finally, he reached the stretcher where Violet lay.

Brendon suddenly appeared, running toward him. He grabbed Eddie by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Without saying a word, Brendon began dragging him toward the door. Eddie, bewildered, protested.

“Wait! What are you doing?! I have to get Violet!” he shouted.

Brendon angrily grabbed Eddie by the shoulder and shoved him toward the door. “Go save yourself! Go! I’ll take care of her!” he said firmly.

Eddie tried to re-enter the room, but just then, he saw the lightbulb inside explode. Screams echoed in the darkness. Someone else inside had been taken, now a victim of Vecna.

At the end of the corridor, Steve and Jonathan appeared. They ran toward Eddie and grabbed him by the arms, dragging him away. Eddie resisted with all his might, but when he tried to speak, he felt the pain in his throat. As he saw Brendon rushing back inside, everything became blurry. His vision darkened, and silence enveloped him.

When he opened his eyes again, he realized they were driving through rows of trees. His head was resting against the window, and they were in a car. As his vision cleared, his eyes focused on the sign by the roadside, "Welcome to Hawkins!"

Eddie suddenly straightened up, causing Jonathan, who had been dozing in the seat next to him, to wake up and look at him. “Hey... You’re awake. Are you okay?” Jonathan asked softly.

Eddie realized he was in the back seat. When he looked ahead, he saw Hopper in the driver’s seat and Steve next to him. Both were looking back at him with curious expressions. A frustrated smile spread across Eddie’s face.

“Am I okay?! What am I doing here, huh?! Take me back to the hospital right now!” he yelled angrily.

Jonathan explained in a calm voice, “Your innocence was proven, Eddie. The judge saw Max’s statement. Plus, Manager Wilson signed off this morning saying you’re not insane. Right now, the culprit, ‘Henry,’ is being hunted everywhere. If they can catch him. You’re free now.”

Eddie clenched his teeth and said in an icy voice, “Stop the car.” Hopper kept driving. Eddie shouted louder this time, “I said stop the car!” Hopper slammed the brakes, and the car came to an abrupt halt. Eddie opened the door and started walking away without looking back.

Steve ran after him, trying to catch up. “Eddie! How do you plan to get to Michigan from here?! On foot?!” he asked, concerned.

Eddie stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and asked without turning around, “Is Violet dead, Steve?”

Steve stayed silent for a while. The expression on his face made it clear he was trying to avoid answering. Eventually, he turned around, looked at the others, and scratched the back of his neck.

Eddie shouted angrily, “Do you expect me to leave her and John there and come here to start my ‘new life’? If they’re still in there and I’m out, it’s my fault! How could you leave without them?!”

Hopper approached him calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Our priority was getting you out, son,” he said in a serious tone.

Eddie took a step back, causing Hopper’s hand to fall from his shoulder. He raised his hands to his head, nearly pulling at his hair. “Take me back there. I need to get them out. I have to save them,” he said. He was trying to speak angrily, but his voice sounded like that of a desperate victim pleading for their life.

This time, Jonathan stepped forward and spoke to Eddie. “Eddie, it was Violet and John who made us promise to get you out of there safely and bring you here. No matter the cost, we swore. They want you to move on with your life.”

Eddie quickly approached Jonathan and shoved him. Jonathan looked surprised but didn’t retaliate. Eddie continued angrily, “Isn’t Nancy your girlfriend? If the same thing happened to her, would you leave her there and move on with your life?”

He stepped aside and then moved toward Steve, shoving him too. “What if it were Robin in there? Isn’t she the sister you never had? Would you leave her there and start a new life?” he said, his voice trembling.

Eddie’s eyes filled with tears as he added, “You might love me, but if I survived in there, it’s because of them. Do you understand what you’re asking of me now?”

Hopper took a deep breath, removed his hat, and held it tightly in his hands. He was trying to find the right words. “Son, even if you went back there right now, they wouldn’t let you see them. We need a plan. Right now, you’re the only witness who knows what’s happening there. We can’t let them take you back inside. We have to think logically,” he said firmly.

Eddie, trying to believe but still hopeless, asked, “How?”

Hopper shrugged and replied, “We’ll get a search warrant. You’ll tell the national media everything that happened there. We’ll shut that disgusting place down for good, and no one will ever go near it again. But we can’t do it this way. Even the worst plan is better than no plan. You can’t just go back there on a whim.”

When Hopper gestured toward the car with his head, Eddie turned back to Jonathan and looked him in the eyes. “Is Violet dead?” he asked.

Steve chose to speak this time. He bit his lip and answered with pain in his voice. “She’s not dead. But it can’t be said that she’s alive either. They practically fried her brain. Filthy bastards,” he said angrily. Eddie, trying to stay calm, walked toward the car. About half an hour later, they reached the town center. But just then, a large crowd began running toward the car. Eddie, trying to figure out what was happening, glanced at the others in the car. They were just as confused as Eddie. When Hopper stopped the car, Eddie slowly got out.

This crowd consisted of the people of Hawkins. Dustin was at the forefront. He ran to Eddie and hugged him, and then the other kids followed, wrapping themselves around him. Max, on the other hand, stood at a distance, looking at Eddie with an embarrassed expression. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she stood silently.

Max spoke with a trembling voice. “They told you what I did to you… I’m so sorry…” Eddie felt the moment, surrounded by the kids. Struggling, he reached out his hand toward Max. When he made a slight nod, as if to say, “Come on,” Max hesitated no longer and ran to him, hugging him tightly as well. Eddie realized how much he had missed them. These kids were his family. Since his uncle’s death, they had never left him alone. Then, he turned to the crowd waiting ahead. After letting go of the kids, he walked into the midst of the crowd. The expression on everyone’s face was the same: guilt. A deathly silence prevailed. Eddie began looking at the banners they held and read each one out loud, in a clear voice. “We’re so sorry, Eddie.”“We’re so happy you’re back home.”“We knew you were innocent.”“We’re sorry.” As he read each banner, Eddie burst into more hysterical laughter. Eventually, his laughter ceased, and he placed his hands on his hips, giving the crowd a stern look.

“You can take your apologies and shove them up your ass,” he said, as parents hurriedly tried to cover their children’s ears. Eddie stepped closer to them and continued, his voice filled with anger. “Why are you covering their ears? You let them hear the disgusting stories you told about me, didn’t you?” he said, his voice trembling with rage and pain. Eddie looked into each person’s face. He stepped toward the crowd and raised his voice. “A week ago, the same people who wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if they saw me on the street are now looking me in the face and apologizing, is that it?” he said. The fury in his words pierced through the silence like a knife. He took another step and his tone grew louder. “You’re the same people who didn’t believe me when I said I was innocent, the ones who collected signatures to send me to the electric chair without a trial. Do you realize that?” Hopper, leaning against his car with his hat in hand, watched the scene unfold. Those surrounding Eddie followed his every move, curious about what he would do next. Eddie walked toward the banners in people’s hands. He grabbed them one by one and threw them to the ground. Then he turned to Hopper and asked for his lighter. Hopper silently handed it over. Eddie bent down and lit one of the banners. The fire quickly spread to the others. Eddie stood in front of the burning banners and raised his voice even more. “Because of the music I listen to, the clothes I wear, the hair on my head, because I wasn’t one of you, you've targeted me. Because that’s what you are. You always judge a book by its cover. You called me a murderer, but while the real killer of those kids was out there, you wasted time chasing the wrong person, making you the true killers of lost time. You’re the reason my grieving uncle took his own life. These banners you wrote with your bloodstained hands have now ruined two more innocent lives. If only once… just once, you had chosen to believe me…” Eddie’s throat tightened; he couldn’t swallow. Steve and Robin quietly approached him, taking him by the arms. They tried to lead him away from the crowd. Eddie turned once more to look at the burning banners and the guilt-ridden faces staring back at him. The pain and anger inside him grew larger with each passing moment. This town owed him a youth. It owed him a graduation. It owed him a family.

They were finally sitting in Mike’s house, in the basement. They were waiting for a voice to come through the walkie-talkie placed in the middle of the table. Before leaving the hospital, Steve had left a walkie-talkie with Brendon. Somehow, when the lights went out and the doors were locked, John would be able to reach them through this walkie-talkie.

Eddie’s eyes kept glancing at the clock. He felt like time wasn’t moving. Back in Chassell, evening would fall quickly, and the doors would shut in no time. But here, in Hawkins, it was as if time had stopped. A voice came through the walkie-talkie, filling the room. “Is anyone there?” Eddie grabbed the walkie-talkie reflexively. “Oh my God... John, is that you?” he asked, his voice trembling with both hope and fear. John’s voice echoed through, cutting the static. “Thank God you’re okay, Ed!” Eddie’s voice was filled with desperation. “John. Please tell me. Is Violet okay?” The voice from the walkie-talkie went silent for a moment. The quiet made everyone in the room more impatient. Then John’s voice echoed again, slow and hesitant. “As okay as she can be.” Eddie’s voice wavered between hope and despair. “Can I talk to her? Please. Can Brendon take the walkie-talkie to her?” John remained silent for a moment, then spoke in a regretful tone. “I don’t think that’s possible, Eddie.” Eddie’s determination was evident in his voice. “We’ll come there tomorrow with a warrant. We’re going to get you out of there.” John took a deep breath, his voice full of sorrow. “Dr. Oliver submitted a petition to the board saying Violet had overcome a critical condition. They’re going to transfer her to another hospital.” Eddie quickly asked, his voice filled with concern, “Where?” John’s response was vague and helpless. “I don’t know, but you better hurry. Eddie, I hate to say this, but I don’t think there’s much left of Violet anymore.” Eddie’s face turned pale, and fear was evident in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cracking. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling. John spoke quickly to end the conversation. “I have to go. Manager Wilson has increased security. He’s terrified because of the things he saw related to Vecna. We’ll talk later, Eddie.” As the voice from the walkie-talkie faded, Eddie threw it onto a chair. He paced the room, consumed by anger and helplessness. “Damn it. I have to go there. I have to get in.” Dustin spoke, his face filled with worry and disbelief. “Eddie, have you lost your mind? We literally risked our lives to get you out of there. You just got out. Now you want to go back in?” Without thinking, Eddie ran to Eleven. He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Can you reach Violet? Please.” Eleven shrugged, her expression uncertain. “Do you have a photo or something that belongs to her?” Eddie paused for a moment, then shouted in frustration. “Damn it. No.” At that moment, Lucas suddenly spoke with excitement. “No, wait! We do!” Everyone turned their curious eyes to Lucas. He was quickly rummaging through the magazines and newspapers on the table. “Here it is!” he said, holding up a newspaper clipping and handing it to Eddie. Eddie stared at the clipping in his hands, focusing on the photo. It was taken the day they escaped from the hospital, after a car accident. The photo showed the crashed car, along with John, Eddie, and Violet. He read the text beneath the image silently, each word catching in his throat like a lump. “Two patients who escaped from a mental hospital and the hostage doctor they took with them were involved in a car accident. One of the patients and the young doctor died at the scene.” This report had been the trap set to admit Violet into the hospital as a patient, ensuring her family wouldn’t come after her. With trembling hands, he handed the newspaper to Eleven. He also took off the bandana from his head and gave it to her so she could blindfold herself. Silence filled the room. Everyone was waiting for Eleven to try reaching Violet. A few minutes later, Eleven pulled the bandana from her eyes and looked at Eddie. She slowly shook her head no. Max walked over to Eddie and hugged him. She gently wiped away the tear that had fallen from his eye. “Don’t be sad,” she said softly. “When I fell into a coma, El couldn’t reach me at first either. But now I’m here.”

Hopper placed the paper on Wilson’s desk and then slammed his fist onto the table. His face was taut with anger. “We have a warrant to search for Violet George. If I want, I’ll tear this place apart,” he said, his voice filled with determination. Wilson, however, didn’t back down. In a composed manner, he replied, “You can’t search for Violet. Because there’s no such person .” These words pushed Eddie over the edge. He strode quickly toward Wilson, but Steve immediately stepped in front of him to stop him. Eddie’s anger was written all over his face. Hopper fixed a hard stare on Wilson. “Wilson, are you not afraid of what’s coming your way?” he asked. Nodding toward Eddie, he added, “You’re really testing my limits not to let Eddie destroy you.” Wilson didn’t flinch. He responded coldly, “You can’t search for Violet because there’s no such person here. Yes, a temporary doctor was assigned to handle her case while Eddie was here. And that doctor died in a car accident. Try keeping up with the news.” Eddie took a furious step forward and shouted his question. “If she died in the accident, where’s her body? Where’s her grave?” Wilson replied with a mocking tone, “That information is only available to family members. And you’re not one of them, Mr. Munson.” Eddie’s hands were clenched into fists, trembling with rage. Hopper, however, took a deep breath and signaled with a nod for them to leave. Eddie couldn’t believe how quickly Hopper was giving up. He looked at him in shock, but Hopper’s face betrayed no emotion. Once they were outside the hospital, Eddie could no longer contain his anger and started shouting. “You said you’d get her out! I trusted you!” His voice was thick with both frustration and helplessness. Hopper calmly placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and said in a reassuring tone, “We need to get back in there. I mean you.” Then, with a faint smile, he added, “We’re going to bury these bastards in a septic tank, son.” Eddie paused, taken aback by Hopper’s resolve. Slowly, a smile returned to his face, and he nodded in agreement.

After dropping Eddie off in front of the hospital’s guesthouse, Hopper quickly drove away. He had mentioned a soldier friend of his, someone he spoke highly of. It was a name Eddie had heard before but had never met. This person was one of Hopper’s connections from Russia. Hopper had said they could help and even alert U.S. National Security. But while Hopper was handling his affairs, Eddie was determined to get back inside. The sky was slowly darkening, providing the perfect backdrop for another covert mission. Eddie noticed a tall figure approaching from the distance. It was clearly a man. Speaking to himself in a low voice, he thought, “I hope it’s Robert. So I can give that bastard what he deserves.” It wasn’t who he was expecting, but if Robert showed up, Eddie knew exactly what he would do to him. Anger burned like fire in Eddie’s veins. What Robert had done to them would not go unpunished. A list ran through his mind: Dr. Arthur, Manager Wilson, Prosecutor Robert... These were at the top of his target list. And then there was the nun who stood over Violet and gave her electroshock, and the male nurse who had walked with him when he first arrived at the hospital. All of their faces were etched into Eddie’s memory. He believed it was his duty to make these assholes pay, especially since the police seemed to be doing nothing. But Eddie couldn’t help asking himself: “Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough?” He had never been in a serious fight beyond high school scuffles with other teens. Yet he was convinced that these people didn’t deserve to breathe. Eddie wouldn’t let the fate of the past dictate his future. The things he once believed in had been lost under Vecna’s chains. But now there was no running. Only fighting.

When he realized the approaching person was Oliver, he stood up from the sidewalk where he had been sitting. The person he had been waiting for was finally in front of him. Oliver looked surprised when he saw Eddie. Quickly, he pushed his curly hair away from his eyes with his hands and took a step toward Eddie, extending his hand. “Eddie? What are you doing here? You left, I thought they saved you,” he said, his voice full of astonishment. Eddie gave a bittersweet smile. He wanted to show Oliver the determination in his eyes. “It would be better if we talked somewhere more private,” he said, and Oliver nodded, motioning for him to follow.

As they entered the guesthouse, Eddie took a long look at the door he believed once belonged to Violet’s room while climbing the stairs. He couldn’t think about anything but Violet. The regret inside him was growing. “I wish I had never dragged her into this,” he thought to himself. But what was done was done, and Eddie needed to find a way out of this chaos.

When Eddie and Oliver entered Oliver’s room in the guesthouse, Oliver threw the bag in his hand into a corner. He loosened his tie with his hand and took a deep breath. “What do you want to drink?” he asked, heading toward the fridge. Eddie, trying to maintain his composure, replied, “Something cold would be nice.” Oliver took two cans of soda from the fridge and handed one to Eddie. He sat on the opposite couch and opened his can. After a brief silence, he spoke. “You’re here to ask about Violet,” Oliver said, looking directly into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie hadn’t opened his soda yet. His eyes were filled with anger and despair. “Nobody’s telling me anything about her,” he said. “Oliver, you’re her doctor. I know you know something. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the dirty game you played with Violet. You tricked me! You let her sacrifice herself for me! But I still need you. Please, tell me, is she okay?”

Oliver placed the soda on the coffee table. He clasped his hands together and remained silent for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, “Eddie, the dose of electricity Violet received caused significant damage to her brain nerves. I don’t think she can even handle her most basic needs on her own right now. I don’t know when—or if—it will pass. I think she may have sustained permanent damage.” These words drove Eddie mad. “Do you think ?!” he shouted, leaping to his feet. His eyes were blazing with anger. “For God’s sake, did you study all those years to get that medical degree for nothing? Don’t you understand what’s happening to your patient? How is she?!” Oliver continued in a calm tone, unfazed by Eddie’s anger. “Eddie, mental illnesses are not like physical illnesses. When you have the flu, you get treated, we give you medicine, and tell you when you’ll recover. But we can’t predict when a virus growing in the mind will pass. I don’t know Violet’s condition, and I won’t be able to assess the extent of the damage for some time. She can’t even speak.”

Eddie turned to Oliver in horror. His eyes were filled with desperation. “I need to see her, Oliver. I’m begging you. Help me get in there,” he said, his voice both pleading and determined. Oliver took a deep breath and shook his head negatively. “The person you want to talk to isn’t an ordinary patient. And I can’t arrange a visit for you with a patient who is officially recorded as deceased. Wilson and the others are breathing down my neck. They’re just waiting for a chance to lock me up in blue clothes as well.” Eddie continued impatiently, “I didn’t ask you to arrange a visit for me. Get me in. As a patient. ”

Oliver raised his eyebrows in shock. He looked at Eddie as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You just got out of there, and you’ve already forgotten how you got out? If you go back in, you might never get out again. Are you insane?!” Eddie stared directly into Oliver’s eyes and replied, “If I were insane, would you admit me?” Oliver gave a faint smile. “I still wouldn’t, Eddie. We promised Violet… We would save you.”

Eddie angrily sat back down on the couch. His hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes burned with rage. “If one more person says that, the next one is getting punched. Enough already. Didn’t you come here looking for Ginny, Oliver? Aren’t you staying in this disgusting place because you think she’s here? Would you leave?” he asked, his voice rising in fury.

Oliver met Eddie’s words with a moment of silence. Instead of answering, he headed inside. A short while later, he returned with a pillow and a blanket in his hands. He tossed them onto Eddie. “Get some rest tonight. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow,” he said in a soft tone.

Eddie had been staying in Oliver's room at the same guesthouse for three weeks. During this time, they made a plan every day, but something always went wrong. Eddie needed to get inside; every second without news from Violet and John was growing heavier. Three weeks had passed, and he hadn’t heard anything about them. He had seen Brendon a few times from the window, but Oliver warned Eddie strictly not to make any contact with him. Oliver had mentioned that Violet’s condition had slightly improved, but it wasn’t enough for Eddie. He couldn’t even imagine how bad Violet’s state was. His patience was running thin.

Meanwhile, Hopper kept calling and asking if Eddie had gotten into the hospital yet. When Eddie turned off the stove after heating some canned food in the kitchen, he heard the door lock turn and stood up. When Oliver walked in, his face was filled with triumph. Eddie raised his eyebrows and looked at him curiously.

Oliver’s face was glowing with excitement. “It worked, Eddie!” he said enthusiastically. Eddie asked in surprise, “What? How?!”

Oliver continued smiling as he explained. “You’re going back to that hospital tomorrow.”

Eddie smiled and gestured toward the table with his head. Oliver excitedly rushed to the table and sat down. He pulled out a file from his bag and slid it in front of Eddie.

Eddie picked up the file and began to go through it. It was an application form. It belonged to a family from a farm in Detroit who had applied to the hospital, claiming their son was “possessed by the devil.”

Eddie looked at Oliver with confusion. Oliver smirked slightly and pointed. “Look at the child’s name and surname.” Eddie glanced at the corner of the file and read the name written there: Edward Francis Munson. A surprised smile appeared on his face. “All the Edward Munsons in the country must be nuts, I guess,” he said sarcastically.

Suddenly, a realization hit him, and he asked quickly, “Wait a second, are you going to get me inside pretending I’m this kid?” Oliver grinned and nodded. Eddie hesitated for a moment but couldn’t hold back his objection. “But what if the kid’s family comes in and asks about the application status? And everyone in that hospital knows me. They’ll know I’m not this kid. Wilson will never let me in.” Oliver spoke with confidence. “The kid’s family applied to several hospitals along with this one. And right now, one of them has already accepted them. We even had a document confirming their acceptance, but guess what—I ‘accidentally’ fed it to the shredder...”

Eddie was first shocked, then burst into laughter. “Alright, the family won’t come. How are you going to get me inside?” he asked. Oliver maintained eye contact with Eddie as he spoke decisively. “I’m a doctor, remember? If I submit a petition diagnosing you as ‘schizophrenic’ and get this file approved, once they realize there’s another Eddie, it will already be too late. They’ll think they’ve admitted another Eddie. And don’t forget—they’ve already issued death certificates for two living people. They’re aware of this. If they try to kick you out after admitting you, they’ll be in trouble because it’ll be revealed that they issued fake death certificates for you. So, Eddie, I’m asking you one last time. Do you really want to go in? Because you might never come back out.”

Eddie nodded without hesitation. “I accept the risk,” he said.

The next day, Eddie was waiting in front of the hospital doors. He ignored the curious glances from the staff passing by, merely raising his middle finger at them mockingly. At that moment, Oliver came running out of the hospital and approached Eddie. He motioned with his head that they needed to move. Eddie followed Oliver.

The pair headed toward the laundry room they had gone to the first time they entered the hospital. When they entered the laundry room, the same secretary, with the same indifferent attitude, gestured toward the section with clean clothes. Eddie removed his rings. As he started taking off the sleeveless denim jacket he wore over his leather jacket, the secretary was watching him closely. While taking off his t-shirt, he winked at the elderly secretary and headed to the section with clean clothes to put on the blue clothes.

After putting on the blue clothes he returned to Oliver, who was waiting by the door. “Can I go see Violet now?” he asked. Oliver shook his head. “First, we have another task. We’re going to the manager’s office,” he said. Eddie nodded in agreement. As they walked down the corridor, Eddie saw Brendon coming from the other direction. Brendon initially glanced at Eddie and turned his head away. But a second later, he froze and turned back to Eddie.

Brendon’s eyes widened as he recognized Eddie at the end of the corridor. He struggled to catch his breath as he spoke in astonishment. “Eddie?! You... This clothes... What are you doing here?!” Eddie smiled and responded calmly. “I’ll explain everything. Can you bring John and Violet to the common room? I’ll be there shortly.” Brendon, unsure how to respond to this unexpected request, nodded and quickly walked away. Eddie and Oliver had reached Manager Wilson’s office. With a sly grin on his face, Oliver knocked on the door and went inside. Eddie could hear the conversation inside clearly as he waited outside.

Wilson began speaking in an irritated tone. “What is it now, Oliver?” Then Arthur’s stern voice followed. “Didn’t we tell you not to come here unless it’s something important?” Oliver didn’t seem to take the situation seriously. He replied in a relaxed manner. “I want to introduce you to the patient you admitted today.” Wilson sounded exasperated. “Are we supposed to meet every patient we admit? Get out.” Oliver chuckled and added, “You’ll want to meet this one. Eddie, come on in.” Eddie pushed the door open and stepped inside. The expression that appeared on Wilson and Arthur’s faces was pure shock. Eddie watched this change with great delight. The satisfaction on his face was almost a challenge to the dismayed mood of those in front of him. Wilson quickly opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a file. He flipped through the pages so fast that they almost tore. Finally, he stood up and angrily pointed his finger at Oliver. "You... You played us, didn’t you? You tricked us. Do you think you’re very clever?" Oliver didn’t seem affected by Wilson’s threatening demeanor. He spoke calmly. "If you want, you can discharge Eddie right now. But that will lead to two outcomes. First, a public lawsuit will be filed against you for endangering public safety by releasing a potentially dangerous 'schizophrenic' patient without completing their treatment. Or Eddie will sue you after being discharged because you admitted the wrong person and kept someone innocent here. In short, Manager, you’ve stepped in it. You have no choice but to keep him here." Arthur, who had been quietly listening to Oliver, turned to Eddie with a conflicted expression. "You shouldn’t be here," he said. Wilson glared at Eddie with a displeased look, while Arthur stepped forward and began speaking in a threatening tone. "You think you’ve done something clever by coming here. Right now, you’re nothing more than a lamb that’s returned to the wolves’ den." Eddie, unfazed by the threat, replied. "Want to give it a try? This time, we won’t stay silent. We won’t let people like you torment people like us. By the time I’m done here, Arthur, they’ll strap you into a straitjacket and fry you." Arthur’s face reddened with anger at Eddie’s words, and he snapped back. "Do your worst, Munson." Eddie kept his composure and delivered one final remark. "Careful, or my worst might blow up somewhere inappropriate for you." Despite Arthur’s shocked expression, Eddie merely stared at him coldly. Oliver took Eddie by the arm and led him out of the room. Together, they walked toward the common room.

In the common room, Brendon and John were sitting on a couch. The moment John saw Eddie, he jumped up and quickly embraced him. Tears streamed down his face. "You’re an idiot, Eddie. You’re an idiot for coming back here," he murmured. Eddie hugged John tightly in return. His eyes were searching for someone else. John noticed that Eddie was looking for Violet, and his expression suddenly turned serious. Bowing his head slightly, he spoke. "I wanted to warn you before you see her, Eddie. I’m not sure if you can handle it. Actually, I asked Oliver to wait a few weeks before bringing you in. Seeing her in those first moments wouldn’t have done you any good. She’s a bit better now." Eddie interrupted John’s explanations, impatiently asking, "Where is she?" The lump in Eddie’s throat made it hard to breathe and swallow. John nodded toward Brendon. Brendon silently left the common room and returned a few minutes later, walking with someone holding onto his arm. Eddie froze for a moment when he saw that person. Was that... Violet? Violet was stumbling as she walked and struggling to stay upright. Her gaze was vacant and fearful as she glanced around. Even from a distance, it was clear her mind was in disarray. With each step, she looked at Brendon in fear. Brendon spoke softly, encouragingly, as if trying to reassure her. "It’s okay. We’re almost there." Eddie noticed the red scars on either side of Violet’s forehead. The wounds had scabbed over, and some areas had stitches. The sight made Eddie’s hands tremble. He couldn’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Violet and Brendon had barely managed to cover a few steps in a minute because of Violet’s frightened and shaky movements. John watched Eddie’s face, waiting for his reaction. But Eddie didn’t know what to say. Violet was standing in front of him, but she wasn’t the Violet he knew. An indescribable fear filled him. Brendon walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is her good state, buddy," he said. "At least she can form sentences. She couldn’t even swallow without help before." Brendon’s attempt to console him only deepened Eddie’s pain. When Violet finally reached Eddie, she still wasn’t lifting her head. Eddie gently held her face with his hands and raised it. "Violet?..." he said, his voice trembling. Violet looked into Eddie’s eyes, frightened. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Eddie, feeling like she might break if he touched her, slowly pulled his hands back. At the same time, Violet took a step back and hid behind John. Like a child embarrassed and hiding behind a parent, Violet peeked at Eddie from over John’s shoulder. Then she leaned into John’s ear and whispered. Her voice was soft but clear enough for Eddie to hear. Violet tilted her head toward John’s shoulder and whispered fearfully, "John... I don’t know him..." After those words, tears streamed uncontrollably down Eddie’s face. John bit his lip and grimaced, hugging Violet tightly. As Violet’s sobs grew louder, Eddie stopped trying to hold back his own tears. At that moment, Oliver moved to Eddie’s other side. "For now, she only trusts me and John," he said quietly. "She doesn’t recognize anyone else. We don’t know when she’ll come around or start remembering things." Eddie couldn’t find anything to say. The lump in his throat felt like a sharp blade, making it impossible to swallow. John looked into Eddie’s eyes and spoke firmly. "But that’s not our biggest problem," he said with determination. Eddie fixed his gaze on John. What could be worse than this?

Oliver pointed to someone sitting in the corner. At first, Eddie couldn’t recognize who it was. There was a familiar feeling, but the person had changed so much that it was hard to remember. He was clean-shaven, wearing blue clothes, and his haggard appearance made him nearly unrecognizable. But when Eddie looked closer, he realized. This was Prosecutor Robert Hills.

When Robert saw Eddie, he stood up. Eddie held his breath. Rage enveloped his entire body, and his vision seemed to darken with fury. There was only one person responsible for Violet’s condition, and that was Robert. Dr. Arthur might have strapped her to that bed and administered the electric shocks. Manager Wilson might have turned a blind eye or even supported it. But the one who started it all, the one who pulled the pin on the grenade, was Robert.

Eddie started walking quickly toward Robert. Robert took a step back at the sight of Eddie’s furious approach. He was taller than Eddie, but that didn’t matter to Eddie in the slightest. Just before landing his fist on Robert’s face, Eddie’s expression shifted into a cold smile.

With Eddie’s first punch, Robert was pushed back against the wall behind him. He tried to shield his face with his hands, so Eddie directed his next blows to his groin, stomach, and ribcage.

As the assault intensified, Brendon and Oliver rushed to intervene, grabbing Eddie’s arms. But Eddie didn’t stop; he began kicking Robert instead. Finally, Robert fell to the ground, curling into a fetal position to protect himself.

Oliver, furious, grabbed Eddie and shoved him forcefully. “Do you want to end up in a cell your first day here, Eddie?! Get a grip!” he yelled.

At that moment, Wilson and Arthur entered the room, probably having heard the commotion. They stood there with expressions of both concern and curiosity. When they saw Eddie, they exchanged a sly smile and simply watched the scene unfold.

Arthur spoke in a mocking tone, “So, you’ve seen the big surprise, I take it.”

Eddie shouted angrily, pointing toward Robert. “What is this asshole doing here?! Did you put him here so I’d kill him and become a murderer?!”

Wilson shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “Do whatever you want with him. We’re done. Just try not to make too much of a mess. Bloodstains are hard to clean.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Wilson and Arthur turned and left the room without the slightest concern. Meanwhile, Robert struggled to his feet, clutching his stomach. Slowly, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and took a deep breath.

Breaking the silence, Robert spoke in a pained tone. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it, Eddie. I don’t have much reason to live anyway.”

Eddie fixed his gaze on Robert and raised his voice. “Shut up. Don’t try to play the victim. I don’t feel a shred of pity for you, Robert. You deserve every bit of what’s happened to you.”

Robert lowered his head at Eddie’s harsh words. With a slight sigh, he said, “I can’t blame you for thinking that way. If you were in my shoes, maybe you’d understand.”

Eddie laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. You’re a disgusting piece of trash. We trusted you, and you threw us back in here. You’re going to rot here, Robert,” he hissed.

Robert replied calmly, “So will you. You’re no different from me now.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened further. As he lunged forward to attack again, Brendon quickly grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him back. “Can’t you see? He’s provoking you. They’ll really lock you up if you keep this up, Eddie. Let’s get out of here,” Brendon said, his voice carrying a clear warning.

Clenching his teeth, Eddie broke free from Brendon’s grip and turned away, heading toward where Violet was. Violet watched Eddie’s approach with fear. As he got closer, she retreated further, hiding behind John. Eddie tried to put on a soft and innocent smile. All he wanted was for Violet not to be afraid of him.

When Eddie reached out his hand, Violet locked eyes with him. Eddie spoke gently, “Hi, beautiful, I’m Eddie. Do you remember me?” he asked. Instead of answering, Violet looked over to the corner where Robert stood. Her gaze clearly revealed that she was now afraid of Eddie because of what he had done to Robert.

When Eddie saw that look, he bit his lip. Suppressing the wave of regret rising within him, he took another step closer and gently took Violet’s hands in his. “He’s a bad man,” he said, his voice trembling.

Then Eddie looked deeper into Violet’s eyes and continued, “I would never hurt you, Violet. I’d never let anything happen to you again. Never,” he whispered. The sincerity in his words seemed to slightly ease Violet’s apprehension. Instead of pulling her hands away, Violet held Eddie’s hands in return.

Eddie was sitting at the long and uncomfortable cafeteria table with John and the others. It had only been three days since Eddie returned to the hospital, and he had been waiting for news from Hopper ever since. Hopper claimed he was making arrangements, but whatever he was arranging, he needed to hurry. The hope inside Eddie was fading a little more with each passing day.

He looked at John sitting across from him. John was playing with his food, appearing distracted and lost in thought. Eddie turned his gaze from John to Violet sitting beside him. Violet was trying to eat, filling her spoon with soup and struggling with her shaky hand. But her wrists were so weak that the soup spilled all over her before she could even bring the spoon to her mouth.

Eddie picked up a napkin from the basket next to him and gently wiped Violet’s mouth. Then he placed his hand over Violet’s trembling one. Violet looked at Eddie with surprise.

“Hold on, sweetheart, let me help you,” Eddie said with a smile. He took Violet’s spoon and began helping her drink the soup.

John rubbed his face with his hands. Taking a deep breath, he grumbled, “How much longer is this going to go on? I can’t stand seeing her like this. We need her right now.”

Eddie set the spoon aside and raised his head slightly. “She’s in this state because of me,” he said, his voice breaking.

John sighed and looked at Eddie. “We’ve talked about this, Eddie. It was her choice. No matter what you did, she would have sacrificed herself anyway. For your freedom.”

Eddie replied sharply, “Freedom, for me, isn’t outside these walls. It’s wherever she is, John.”

John rolled his eyes and spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Dude, if you don’t get out of here, you’re not going to marry her and live happily ever after. You’ll either die from the filth here or the experiments. This place isn’t safe for anyone.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and chuckled lightly. “Speaking of filth, we could use a shower,” he said.

John nodded in agreement. Eddie continued, “I’ll take Violet to her room and be right back.”

When Eddie took Violet’s arm to support her, she clung tightly to him. She did this every time they were going somewhere. She held on so tightly that her nails dug into Eddie’s arm. She was afraid of everything and everyone, as if she had aged prematurely. Her memory was completely blank; she remembered nothing and no one. Eddie placed his hand over Violet’s and spoke softly.

“Baby, you’re cold,” he said. He took off his jacket and gently placed it over Violet’s shoulders. Then he leaned down and zipped it up.

Violet suddenly asked, “What day is it today?”

Eddie looked up at her, as if not understanding the question for a moment.

Violet continued with a hint of curiosity in her eyes, “Have I ever asked you this before?”

A smile spread across Eddie’s face. He stood up quickly, pulled Violet close, hugged her tightly, and stroked her hair while inhaling its scent. “Yes, my angel, you’ve asked me. Every day, you used to ask me. Do you remember?”

Violet nodded slightly in affirmation. She was beginning to remember. Eddie waited patiently. No matter how long it took, he believed Violet would get better. Even though Oliver had said Violet might regain some memories but would never be the same, Eddie didn’t want to believe it. Violet was his Violet.

After taking Violet to her room, Eddie went to the men’s bathroom. John had already filled the tub with hot water and gotten in. There was no privacy here; all the tubs were lined up side by side.

There were no curtains or stalls in the bathroom, as if the only way to prevent people from harming themselves was to leave everything open. But in this hellish place, where rapists and murderers roamed freely, was this truly the safest solution they could come up with? Lost in these thoughts, Eddie took off his clothes, threw them on the floor, and turned on the water in a tub.

He got into the tub, trying to relax. His eyes fell on John in the next tub. “Got a cigarette?” he asked, dunking his head underwater and wiping his face as he surfaced. John bent down, grabbed a cigarette, and tossed it to him. Eddie struck a match, lit his cigarette, and leaned against the edge of the tub, watching the smoke drift through the air as he sought a moment of peace.

John suddenly jolted and spoke. “Hey, someone’s coming.”

Eddie quickly flicked his cigarette to the floor. The room was already filled with steam from the hot water, so it was unlikely anyone would suspect the smoke. When Eddie saw that it was Robert who had entered, he sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. He would have to light another cigarette. Robert walked over, turned on the water, and sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, looking as if he hadn’t expected to find them there.

Eddie took a drag from his cigarette and spoke with a mocking expression. “What’s up, Robert? Here to wash away your sins?” he said, smirking slightly. Robert didn’t reply.

For three days, every time Eddie saw Robert, he made snide remarks, trying to provoke him. But no matter what Eddie did, Robert rarely reacted. Still, it was fun to mess with him like a cat playing with a mouse. Robert was terrified of Eddie, and Eddie enjoyed it.

John joined in with a laugh. “Oh, come on, Eddie. Even if Robert washed with all the water in the city, he still wouldn’t be clean. He’s got the blood of the innocent on him,” he said sarcastically.

Robert silently took off his blue shirt and looked at Eddie as he spoke. “You know, Eddie?” he said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. Eddie looked at him with an indifferent expression. Robert continued in the same calm tone, “It doesn’t suit you to treat the only person who can help you like this.”

A look of anger spread across Eddie’s face. “Help me with what, exactly? You’re not capable of helping anyone but yourself. We’ve seen that once, and we’ve learned our lesson,” he said sharply.

Ignoring Eddie’s reaction, Robert replied, “I can heal Violet.”

With these words, Eddie slowly straightened from where he was. Holding onto both sides of the bathtub, he stood up. He grabbed the towel nearby and wrapped it around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and body, forming small puddles on the floor. As the sound of his wet footsteps echoed through the silent bathroom, he walked toward Robert. His eyes radiated sharp anger in response to the words he had just heard. "What did you say?" he asked harshly.

Robert rolled his eyes, ignoring Eddie's reaction. "You heard me," he said indifferently.

Meanwhile, John, observing the situation, burst into laughter. "A seasoned doctor can't do anything, but our little runt prosecutor is going to heal Violet? Really?" he said mockingly.

Robert tilted his head slightly and looked at John. "Do you honestly think that's my profession? A prosecutor?" he retorted.

Eddie took a deep breath and leaned against a bathtub, speaking with a disdainful expression. "You're right. Prosecutors are men of justice. The only thing you'd be fit for, Robert, is a circus freak," he said coldly.

Robert turned off the faucet filling the tub and replied in a calm tone, "Fine, if you don’t want my help, that’s your choice."

Eddie's expression hardened. "You're right, we don’t. Because there’s nothing you can do," he countered.

Robert stared at Eddie’s face for a moment before slowly stepping toward him. The distance between them was nearly gone. Eddie had to straighten up from where he was leaning. John, startled by the sudden movement, became alert. As a trained officer, he was ready for any threat and quickly stood up.

Robert extended his hand toward Eddie. As Eddie tried to figure out the meaning of this gesture, Robert turned his arm. Eddie froze in place as if rooted to the ground, staring at the tattoo on Robert’s wrist. He quickly looked over at John. John, who had approached with the towel still tied around his waist, was also looking at Robert’s extended hand.

John asked in astonishment, "003? What does that mean?"

Eddie’s voice was filled with mixed emotions. "You’re one of them… like Eleven," he said.

Robert nodded in confirmation. Eddie ran his hands over his face, muttering, "But… How? Why? What?"

Robert responded with a sly smile on his face. "You couldn’t even figure out where it was coming from, could you, Eddie? Why I was so determined to see you dead? Because he wanted it. Vecna. Henry, to be precise."

Eddie spoke as if the air had been knocked out of him. "You knew about Vecna all along. You knew about the murders. You knew everything. Even while we were running."

Robert nodded in acknowledgment of Eddie’s words.

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on Robert. The questions in his mind grew with every passing second. "I don’t understand. What are you doing here?" he asked.

Robert took a deep breath and answered with a composed expression. "I started working for Vecna, and we became… connected, in a way. If he dies, I die too. So I have to do whatever he wants. When I came here, my main goal was to have you executed. But then I realized something even Vecna didn’t know. Eddie, you’re not so different from me after all."

Eddie’s eyes narrowed further. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Robert continued, "You remember the day Violet was hooked up to the electroshock machine. Two people in the room went into a trance and died. You saw it, didn’t you?"

Unwillingly, Eddie nodded.

Robert’s words were chilling. "That wasn’t Vecna. It was you, " Robert said with conviction.

Eddie’s teeth clenched as he retorted angrily, "You’re lying."

Robert maintained his composure as if he had anticipated this reaction. "Believe me or don’t. Until that moment, even I didn’t understand. Because Vecna wasn’t there. I can feel him. I know where he is. He was definitely not there that day. And I wasn’t doing it either. Something like that requires great power, pain, and anger. And at that moment, you were the only one in the room with those feelings. You did it."

Eddie’s voice rose, filled with conflicting emotions. "I didn’t do anything! I… I don’t have any connection to Vecna! I’ve never even seen him alive!"

Robert stepped closer to Eddie and pointed to his side, where his kidneys were. "You don’t need to see him to be connected to him. The demobats bit you. Hive mind. You’re connected to him now. So Eddie, if Vecna gets hurt, if he dies, you’re connected to him. You’ll die too. You have powers you don’t even know about yet. And you don’t realize how dangerous you are."

Eddie’s eyes were burning with anger. "I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, Robert. Even if I assumed it was true, I would never serve him," he declared with determination.

Robert smirked mockingly and shrugged. "You don’t choose to serve him, idiot. He uses you whenever he wants. Since you were bitten, has he ever tried to come and hunt you down? Have you ever found yourself passed out without meaning to?" he asked.

John, overwhelmed by the conversation, raised both hands in the air. "Wait, wait. What’s a demobat? I don’t understand anything. Is someone going to explain this to me?" he asked desperately.

Robert began speaking calmly, as if giving a lecture. "Vecna was once a normal but dangerous kid with superpowers. I was the same. I was always different. But one day, in the lab where the doctor who wanted to test our power worked, something happened. A portal to another dimension was opened. Vecna is now the king there. And everything connected to that place serves him. Eddie was bitten by the creatures there. And he quite literally came back from the dead. You remember, don’t you, Eddie?"

Eddie lowered his head and said nothing.

Taking encouragement from the silence, Robert continued. "Your survival isn’t a miracle. You weren’t supposed to live. He brought you back to life. Just like he brought me back and bound me to him. Now, you were saying we’re not the same, that we’re different. Doesn’t seem so different to me, huh?"

As these words echoed in Eddie’s mind, he couldn’t help but ask another question. "What you said about Violet. Were you serious?"

Robert, exuding confidence, raised his hand and moved his fingers one by one. "I have my own tricks."

taglist:@arabellagreenleaf @cokepowder55 @nessa3nessa @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl @t-folklore13

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Rejection

Rejection is part of a writer's life. Anyone who wants to make it as a writer needs to learn to face rejection bravely, gracefully, and frequently.

3 tips for coping with rejection

Laugh at your rejections.

Learn from your rejections.

Always have a new project underway, something that will give you hope no matter how many rejections come your way for the previous project.

You may take some consolation in knowing the rejection history of these writers and works:

Dune by Frank Herbert – 13 rejections

Auntie Mame by Patrick Dennis – 17 rejections

Jonathan Livingston Seagull – 18 rejections

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle – 29 rejections

Carrie by Stephen King – over 30 rejections

Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell – 38 rejections

A Time to Kill by John Grisham – 45 rejections

Louis L'Amour, author of over 100 western novels – over 300 rejections before publishing his first book

John Creasy, author of 564 mystery novels – 743 rejections before publishing his first book

Ray Bradbury, author of over 100 science fiction novels and stories – around 800 rejections before selling his first story

The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter – rejected so universally the author decided to self-publish the book

From rejection slip for George Orwell's Animal Farm:

“It is impossible to sell animal stories in the U.S.A."

From rejection slip for Norman MacLean's A River Runs Through It:

“These stories have trees in them."

From rejection slip for article sent to the San Francisco Examiner to Rudyard Kipling:

“I'm sorry, Mr. Kipling, but you just don't know how to use the English language."

From rejection slip for The Diary of Anne Frank:

“The girl doesn't, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the curiosity level."

Rejection slip for Dr. Seuss's And To Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street:

“Too different from other juveniles on the market to warrant its selling."

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[dykerory]

2025 Book Bingo!!

My dearest @batmanisagatewaydrug issued this challenge and here I am listing the books I intend to read in 2025! Under a read more because I'm not a monster

Literary Fiction: Our Share of Night (2019) by Mariana Enríquez, trans. Megan McDowell

Short Story Collection: Alien Sex: 19 Tales by the Masters of Science Fiction and Dark Fantasy (1990), edited by Ellen Datlow

A Sequel: Don’t Fear The Reaper (2023) by Stephen Graham Jones

Childhood Favorite: When You Reach Me (2009) by Rebecca Stead

20th Century Speculative Fiction: The Time of the Ghost (1981) by Diana Wynne Jones

Fantasy: To Shape a Dragon’s Breath (2023) by Moniquill Blackgoose

Published Before 1950: Wuthering Heights (1847) by Emily Brontë

Independent Publisher: Creatures of Passage (2022) by Morowa Yejidé, published by Akashic Books

Graphic Novel/Comic Book/Manga: Something is Killing the Children Book One (2021), by James Tynion IV, art by Werther Dell’Edera

Animal on the Cover: Coyote Rage (2019) by Owl Goingback

Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Let the Right One In (2004) by John Ajvide Lindqvist, trans. Ebba Segerberg

Science Fiction: Finna (2020) by Nino Cipri

2025 Debut Author: Needy Little Things (2025) by Channelle Desamours

Memoir: Camgirl (2019) by Isa Mazzei

Read a Zine, Make a Zine: Leaving this one blank for now! If anyone has any zine recommendations I'd love to hear them!

Essay Collection: Unquiet Spirits: Essays by Asian Women in Horror (2023), edited by Lee Murray and Angela Yuriko Smith

2024 Award Winner: Linghun (2023) by Ai Jiang, winner of the Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in Long Fiction

Nonfiction: Learn Something New: Abominable Science! Origins of the Yeti, Nessie, and Other Famous Cryptids (2012) by Daniel Loxton and Donald Prothero

Social Justice & Activism: Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia (2019) by Sabrina Strings

Romance Novel: Such Sharp Teeth (2022) By Rachel Harrison

Read and Make a Recipe: The Sopranos Family Cookbook: As Compiled by Artie Bucco (2002), by Allen Rucker, David Chase, and Michele Scicolone

Horror: SOUR CANDY (2015) by Kealan Patrick Burke

Published in the Aughts: Abandon (2009) by Blake Crouch

Historical Fiction: The Hacienda (2022) by Isabel Cañas

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: Leaving this one blank for now as well! If any booksellers or librarians want to recommend me a book so I don't have to talk to someone in real life. I'd love that.

[coweringnarcissus]

i posted about a select element of this concept beneath the general homelander tags a few days ago but walk with me for a minute.

a non-supe au in which john was adopted into an esteemed, affluent household (e.g., the vogelbaums) and, because of his publicized adoption, had the public eye on him from a young age. as conduct issues started manifesting in his childhood, while his family tried to manage things privately, a very public incident involving john occurred (e.g., him being violent with another child) and they quickly distanced him as far as they could from the spotlight. the remainder of his developmental years were spent privately with minimal public appearances while he attended school and therapy. these years were stable, but mainly, isolated. in young adulthood, he re-entered the spotlight and tried to find his footing within the social circles he was majorly excluded from, including nepo babies and other college students that were somewhat famous. as an adult, he established himself as a socialite and is trying to shift his reputation from a rich bachelor who fell into a variety of different odd, but noteworthy, jobs, to a serious author. 

one of these odd jobs involved receiving a call from a “friend” (e.g., kevin (the deep)) to join the production of an upcoming sci-fi show. while john had no interest in sci-fi whatsoever or any connection to the original material, he tried to work his way out of boredom by pushing forward bold adaptations and diversions from the source material as a producer. while some of these adaptations landed and resulted in good interview moments that improved his reputation in the industry, this project ultimately fell into the back of john’s mind as something that went fine years ago, but he would never do again because it wasn’t in line with the work he wants to be known for - he can do better than that…

while his work at bryman audio-visual keeps the lights on, hughie’s an aspiring commentary youtuber. a childhood fan of the sci-fi franchise john had worked on, his initial review of the series was extremely critical of the many diversions from his beloved canon, which john was ultimately responsible for. years after his initial upload, hughie revisited the show and uploaded a retrospective analysis where he rescinded his many scalding comments about john vogelbaum’s adaptations and bashfully acknolwedged, like many others in the community, that he was too nostalgically defensive of the era of the franchise he remembered from childhood to appreciate the show for what it was.

while john wasn’t attached enough to this project to keep tabs on feedback from the fans, he did care about his most recent book release, which was grittier and more macabre than anything he’d previously published (think american psycho if patrick bateman was his homelander. i’m so serious. i wish i wasn’t, but i am.) despite advice from his manager to sanitize this work of it’s darker elements, john was insistent on publishing it as it was written - to extremely mixed critical reviews.

it’s a dead, rainy shift at bryman. hughie recognized john’s face on one of the articles and skimmed through it behind the counter. while the mentions of gore threw him off, the story, itself, seemed interesting; and if he learned anything from revisiting the show, despite any personal skepticism, john showed he had good creative direction. he stops by a store after work to pick up a copy for a pretty penny. it can be one of his weekly uploads, and if he doesn’t like it, he can sell it second-hand to get some money back.

john started to monitor the public reception to his novel. ordinarily, he wouldn’t care about what the average reader has to say, but every review, every comment, about his work, means something. rotating between websites and filtering by the most recent additions, he comes across hughie’s review. he initially watched it on two-times speed to get the big idea of what he had to say, but hughie’s thoughtful, insightful, and accurate with his review. he gets it. john slows the video down and goes back to the beginning. instead of slandering his protagonist, hughie emphasizes with him - with a slap on the wrist for some of his worse moments, sure, but john could accept that. he finishes the video, and he watches it again; but this time, the words fade into the background. he watches hughie. he finishes the video again and pauses before it can transition into his outro. john stares at the screen. he waits. deciding, he moves his cursor to the top corner and makes an account with one of his old, otherwise forgotten email addresses. he searches up hughie’s review again to like the video and leave a somewhat cryptic, but kind, comment. he idly scrolls through the brief comment section and notices that hughie must make a conscious effort to respond to anyone who gives his content the time of day. john wonders what he will say to him.

[everyframeapainting20]

In this chillingly composed shot from "Doubt," director John Patrick Shanley and cinematographer Roger Deakins use framing and lighting to place Sister Aloysius, played by Meryl Streep, squarely at the center of authority. Seated rigidly at the head of the table, her expression is stone-cold, capturing both her unyielding nature and the oppressive atmosphere she fosters among her fellow nuns. The dim, symmetrical lighting isolates each nun in silent submission, creating an almost claustrophobic effect that mirrors the psychological tension within the group. Even as the camera captures the room and its other occupants, the framing and muted palette focus on Streep’s unrelenting scowl, amplifying her dominance and the weight of her moral conviction in a single, powerful image.

[victusinveritas]

A friend who is much better with words and not to my knowledge on Tumblr wrote this:

"Greatly appreciated this interview w Patrick Blanchfield on The Dig Radio (in comments) for locating the shooting of the UHC CEO w/in a broader field of late capitalist mass death, violence and human disposability.

While it’s clear Blanchfield and the host, Denvir, sympathize w Mangione and his reasons for killing a CEO, I liked that they also situated the act w/in a context of both mass shootings and state violence: what is remarkable is not that an American was shot - tens of thousands of Americans are gunned down by other Americans every year - but as Mark Ames points out, it was for once not the working class shooting each other, but a CEO who was targeted. In what often feels like a senseless culture of mass death - for once a murder wasn’t random.

That such culture is a part of our accepted daily life was expressed to me w great clarity as i negotiated w my university as an AAUP rep over pandemic safety protocols several years back. The admin said quite calmly and reasonably, you accept you might die in a car accident going to work, as tens of thousands of Americans do, or in a mass shooting, what makes dying of a virus in a classroom any different? That this passed for enlightened management rather than sociopathic indifference says all one needs to know about our historical moment

In that sense the killing of a CEO is in William James phrase, a “live option” in the way Medicare for All is not or mass politics is not. I am reminded of a thought experiment I often do as an ice breaker on the first day of class: imagine you could have 100 million dollars or a society w no money but your needs are met? Which would you choose? A significant number of students choose the money bc they say, a society w no money in which our needs could be met could not happen. But I am giving you the choice to make it happen, I say. But it can’t they respond. You also don’t have 100 million dollars, I counter. But we *could they say. But you won’t. But *someone will, they reply.

It’s hard to know if Mangione’s assassination of a CEO will help bring M4A. Ofc it is the role of politics to help produce out of our contradictory common sense a program, to cathect desire into a demand on the state or the boss. Obvs it’s what we have to do. Yet it also occurs to me a society that cannot imagine M4A is also a society that delights in gunning down CEO: the passage to the act both reveals poltical desire as much as it disavows its possibility. The figure of the social bandit is notoriously ambiguous, proto revolutionary but also existing in a social structure (colonial California, feudal Europe) in which a mass organized revolution is impossible

Well, it remains to be seen if Mangione is a 21st century Unabomber or maybe, a 21st C John Brown. Mangione faces the death penalty so perhaps the state is making our decision for us. I am sure Brown was far less popular than Mangione in his day, if also, just as feared by the ruling class, even if he hardly acted alone. But it was not up to Brown to make his death matter, it was up to the ppl."

[wi55iams]

Worship (noun):

1. the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity.

2. great admiration or devotion shown towards a person or principle.

I have a lot of thoughts about Carlos Sainz Jr and it's about time i shared them. I'm trying to write a fanfic but i'm finding it difficult to articulate my ideas, this was is test run of sorts to see if I can communicate a message in a way that makes sense. Enjoy. Credits under the cut.

‘Hope is the biggest of our foolish things’ -Alfred de Vingy // Mark Thompson for Getty Images // Carlos Sainz believes he deserves F1 seat // ‘To wish was to hope and to hope was to expect’ -Jane Austen // Carlos Sainz’s last race with Toro Rosso // ‘Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack’ -Brandon Sanderson // Sky Sports // Marina And The Diamonds, Oh No! // It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story’ -Patrick Rothfuss // Medium // An ode to my father, the matador // ‘Maybe if you sleep where another person sleeps and do what that person does, then eventually you’ll start turning into that person’ -Jack Cheng // Ferrari, one name two destinies // Jos and Carlos Sr on their sons’ rookie seasons // ‘Christianity is a religion built around a father who does not rescue his son. It is the story of a son whose father is a ghost’ -Terrance Hayes // Carlos Sainz poses with his father // Jos and Carlos Sr on their sons’ rookie seasons // ‘Perhaps it’s impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be’ -Orson Scott Card // Sky Sports // Junior status; Sharing dad’s name a mixed bag // ‘Who did I think we were. Who did I think I could make you. This is the oldest mistake, to confuse wanting with magic.’ -Marty McConnell Emily Kagan Trenchard // Sainz thrilled with first podium after Hamilton penalty // The Crane Wives, The Moon Will Sing // ‘If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?’ -Jodi Picoult // Top Gear // Carlos Sainz: the boy who became a man // Motorsport.com // Mikky Ekko, Who Are You Really? // ‘Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us’ -Donna Tartt // RacingNews365 // Max Verstappen tells Carlos Sainz ‘I felt sorry for you’ // Racefans // Carlos Sainz has openly discussed his contract regulations // CNN // Sainz wins thrilling Singapore GP // ‘Who wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?’ -Louise Glück // Sky Sports // Carlos Sainz Sr Wikipedia // 'Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered' -Tory Adkisson // Sydney Morning Herald // Planet F1 // Luvbug, Icarus // ‘Sometimes I prayed so hard for God to materialize at the foot of my bed it would start to happen; then I’d beg it to stop, and it would.’ -Marie Howe, // ‘Click here to be saved’, unable to find original author // ‘God’s favorite follower’ by Tumblr user quiet-plaything // ‘God is fucking with my oblivion. If he wants forgiveness, he shouldn’t have given us memory’ -Vi Khi Nao //  ‘What you have to understand, is your father was your model for God’ -Chcuk Palahniuk // John Mayer, In The Blood // ScuderiaFans //

[usafphantom2]

SR-71 OL-Griffiss AFB

OL-Griffiss AFB

Rome, New York

1973

Yom Kippur War

The Yom Kippur War SR-71 operation provided a series of 11.4 hour round-robin sorties to the Middle East. Plans were originally made to fly these flights from Beale AFB to the Middle East and recover at Mildenhall, United Kingdom. Upon arrival at Mildenhall to set up recovery operations, Colonel Patrick Halloran, 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing Commander, was informed that the British Government had second thoughts about the operation and denied authority to operate from the United Kingdom. The UK's reasoning was a possible Arab oil embargo against their nation. Two SR-71's were assigned to performed the historic 11.4 hour flights, tail numbers #964 and #979. These flights to the Middle East were code named:

"Giant Reach"

(Photo courtesy Tom Pugh)

On 13 October 1973, Pilot Jim Shelton and RSO Gary Coleman in #979, departed Griffiss AFB on the first of a series of flights to the Middle East. After 11.13 hours of flight time involving 6 refuelings and more than five hours of flight above Mach 3.0, Jim Shelton landed SR #979 back at Griffiss AFB, NY. The "Photo Take" was highly successful and provided Defense Analysts and the President of the United States with information about the actual Syrian military situation.

On 25 October 1973, Pilot Al Joersz and RSO John Fuller flew SR #979 on another 11.13 hour non-stop round robin sortie to assess the ground situation around the Sinai and Galilee.

On 02 November 1973, Pilot Bob Helt and RSO Larry Elliott in SR #979,flew a similar Trans-Atlantic sortie to the Yom Kippur War zone in 11.22 hours of flight.

The last flight from Griffiss AFB was 11 November 1973. Blackbird #964 was flown by Pilot Jim Wilson and RSO Bruce Douglass and landed at Seymour Johnson AFB, North Carolina. This sortie lasted 10.49 hours. As snow fell in Rome New York, Colonel Pat Halloran opted for a warmer climate and moved operations to Seymour Johnson AFB, NC.

These SR-71 Reconnaissance flights were instrumental in defusing the war and provided positive intelligence photos to the deeply distrusting Israelis and Arabs. With the shooting war over, OL-SB, Seymour Johnson became the base of operation for continued surveillance of the war zone to insure compliance with the peace accord.

OL-SB

Seymour Johnson AFB, North Carolina

SR-71 "Giant Reach" Operations

On 02 December, 1973, Pilot Jim Sullivan and RSO Noel Widdifield flew the first SR-71 to the Middle East from the Seymour Johnson AFB location. In aircraft #964, this crew flew the round-robin sortie to the Sinai region and returned to Seymour Johnson in 9.56 hours.

On 10 December, 1973, Pilot Pat Bledsoe and RSO Reggie Blackwell flew SR #979 to the Middle East and back in 10.0 hours.

On 25 January, 1974, Pilot Buck Adams and RSO Bill Machorek flew SR #971 in a around-robin sortie to the Middle East in 10.04 hours.

On 07 March, 1974 Pilot Ty Judkins and RSO John Morgan flew SR #979 in 9.45 hours

The final "Giant Reach" flight occurred on 06 April, 1974. SR-71 #979, Piloted by Lee Ransom and RSO Tom Allocca flew to the Middle East and returned to Seymour Johnson AFB in 9.46 hours.

In all, four Sorties were flown from Griffiss AFB, NY averaging 11.4 hours each flight and five Sorties from Seymour Johnson AFB, NC averaging 10 hours each .

SR-71 pilot, Colonel Jim Wilson's recollection of one of the historic SR-71 flights to the Middle East during the Yom Kippur War in 1973 is reproduced below for the Blackbird Community.

Mort Jarvis adds: The whole history of this operation is pretty interesting, like flying the Detachment Package into England and than saying the SR can't land in England and turning around and going to Griffiss, NY. If the SR was still flying with the Real Time down link of Recon intelligence, which the SR was modified to carry prior to retirement, the target take could of been in the command function hands within seconds of the take. I still think the SR-71 could do a better job than what Intel is being obtained now.

Col. Jim Wilson, USAF ( Ret.) Writes:

On Oct 6th 1973, Egypt and Syria opened an offensive against Israel on two fronts, launching a coordinated series of air, armored and artillery attacks into the Sinai and Golan Heights . The preemptive strike came as a result of a failure to resolve territorial disputes arising from the Arab-Israeli War of 1967.

Since no diplomatic progress was being made toward peace, Egypt 's Sadat was convinced that to gain legitimacy at home, he must initiate a war with limited objectives.

Along the Suez Canal, 80,000 well-equipped members of the Egyptian army crossed the Suez and attacked fewer than 500 Israeli defenders. And in the Golan Heights , approximately 180 Israeli tanks faced an onslaught of 1,400 Syrian tanks.

Initial Israeli military losses were significant. And assistance was requested from the USA .

At that time, our reconnaissance satellites didn't have the capability to provide the intelligence needed to sufficiently assess the situation. So, we were alerted to prepare to fly SR-71 missions over the area of conflict, then recover in England . It was a mission within the design capability of the aircraft, although such a long, logistically-difficult mission never previously accomplished.

Within the first few days of the conflict, the supporting Arab nations initiated an oil embargo, making oil a weapon of war and contributed to a decision by the British government to deny us a recovery any place in England .

A Plan B was rapidly drawn up to fly the SR-71 out of the East Coast, then recover back in New York at Griffiss AFB. These newly planned 12,000 mile missions would require (5) five air to air refuelings from (16)sixteen KC-135 tankers based in Spain .

In the utmost secrecy, we mobilized and deployed. A few days later, our first photo/electronic reconnaissance mission was successfully completed.

I was a fairly young pilot in the squadron, with only 120 hours of SR-71 time under my belt. I was assigned to fly a backup SR-71 and to stay at Griffiss in an alert posture, and be prepared to fly follow-on missions. Then I served as back-up alert on two more successful missions.

My turn to be the primary aircraft came up next. The excitement level was high. And I certainly wanted to be part of another success.

Takeoff was at 2AM on a brisk and clear autumn night with about fifteen inches of snow already on the ground. It was peacefully calm . . until I lit both of the 34,000 lb. thrust afterburners.

The first 450 miles had to be flown subsonic at .9 Mach, since we had to clear the commercial aircraft flight tracks off the East Coast before I could safely re-fuel. Most pilots don't know the true meaning of dark until they've been in a situation like this. You might compare it to refueling in an inkwell. I then made made three radio silent electronic rendezvous with three tankers out over the North Atlantic before dawn . . taking on 10,000 gallons of fuel.

After completing a few post-refueling checks, I lit the afterburners and started my acceleration to a leisurely Mach 3 cruise across the Atlantic . The airplane performed flawlessly, thanks to the extra special effort by the maintenance guys.

About 2000 miles across the Atlantic , I watched with excitement as the sun came up right in my face, giving me a nice vantage point.

The next refueling was a couple hundred miles north of the Azores . I took on another 10,000 gallons from a couple more tankers.

I started my second acceleration and headed for Gibraltar . At 80,000 feet, cruising through the center of the narrow straits with clear weather and 100 miles of visibility on both sides. Spectacular.

Then I proceeded down the Mediterranean toward Israel where the weather was becoming worse as per flight plan's forecast.

The third air refueling south of Crete , although in poor weather, went along as scheduled. Now packing in a full load of 80,000 lbs of JP-7 fuel, I lit the afterburners and started the acceleration toward the target area.

At maximum fuel flow in full afterburner, a RED engine oil quantity low light illuminated steady on my emergency warning panel.

In almost unbelief . . I momentarily stared at it !

I instantly scanned oil pressure, rpm, exhaust gas temperature, nozzle position for other indications of trouble. Although there were no confirming indications of problems, I couldn’t just ignore the situation and continue on into the target area with the possibility of an engine failure at supersonic speed out over the Sinai.

We had no viable emergency airfields that could handle the SR-71. And I certainly did not want to be a no-notice, no-flight plan, single engine emergency arrival at David Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv. Especially, since the Israeli government had not been told about our missions, and they were focused on major battles for their own survival.

I took the engines out of afterburner to access the situation, and think about the best course of action.

Then I had a pleasant surprise.

After coming out of afterburner the critical red warning light went out. I became fairly-well convinced that it was a false momentary indication.

But it had cost me roughly 400 gallons of critically needed fuel. My tankers were now 80 miles behind me . . and they were moving further away each second. And re-joining them to top off fuel, would present a whole new set of problems [ I won't get into.]

I decided to re-light the burners and press on. I had a 5 second flash of the same red light during acceleration. Then it went out. Stayed out.

My flight track went down the Suez past Cairo before making a left turn at Mach 3.15 to cross the battle lines in the Sinai. With panoramic and specific point cameras providing imagery of hundreds of targets on both sides of the SR-71, I flew North across the Dead Sea and Golan Heights . Approaching Lebanon , I made a sweeping right turn out over Syria and then back to the Sinai on a parallel flight path for maximum coverage. The airplane was running well. I pushed it up a bit to Mach 3.2 before exiting Egypt near Port Said .

Once out over the Mediterranean , I started a descent to 25,000 feet to hit my fourth set of refuelers.

But as fate would have it, I was not only beong low on fuel because of my previous oil low warning problem, but now a thunderstorm had reached up and it was now enclosing the air re-fueling contact point.

Using our internal electronic azimuth and distance measuring equipment, my backseater got me to within less than a mile behind my tanker. But now, visibility was so poor that I could not see it.

In lousy weather, very low on fuel, I continued twenty miles down the refueling track. By this time, there was just one-half mile and 1000 feet of separation from the tanker.

Small break between the clouds. Hooked up.

I had less than 15 minutes of fuel left, when we made re-fueling contact with the tanker and started transferring. The nearest emergency runway was roughly 100 miles away on Crete .

Needless to say, I was very thankful to my tanker buddies, backseater, and good equipment for that rendezvous. What a relief ! It gave me an entirely new meaning to ' finding a gas station ' . . when I really needed one.

We completed a fifth 10,000 gallon air refueling near the Azores before proceeding on a leisurely Mach 3 flight across the mid-Atlantic to a landing at Seymour Johnson.

Within 20 minutes, our people had the photo and electronic intelligence equipment downloaded, then onboard a dedicated AF courier flight to a Photo Interpretation Center in D.C.

Including 6 hours 41 minutes of supersonic speed, the round-trip flight covered more than 12,000 miles in 10 hours 49 minutes.

After landing, I remember wondering what Lindbergh would have thought about the amazing advancements in aviation technology.

These missions were not declassified until the early 1990's when the SR-71 program was closed at the end of the Cold War. Most of the remaining birds are now in various museums.

The one I flew is the centerpiece at SAC's Air and Space museum near Omaha .

Col. Jim Wilson, USAF ( Ret.)

[abridged ]

SR-71 Photo Archive taken at Seymour Johnson AFB during the Yom Kippur War Operation "OLSB"

Entire SR-71 crew at Seymour Johnson AFB, North Carolina during the Yom Kippur War 1973.

The following personnel participated in the first missions flown out of OLSB. Additional crewmembers (not listed) also participated in these missions. This is the manifest for the Wing Staff personnel on the left and Maintenance on the right.

The following photos are the only ones known to exist of the SR-71 Operations at Seymour Johnson from October, 1973 to April, 1974. At the time, Seymour Johnson was in the process of an ORI (Operational Readiness Inspection) with their B-52's and KC-135's. The Seymour Johnson Wing Commander was not the least bit impressed when we showed up with a DOD directed mission (Yom Kippur War Flights). He was irate about usage of his facilities (We cleared out one of his large hangars and put the two SR's, KC-135Q and our mobile film processing center in the hangar). Additionally, he complained of fuel usage from his facilities by the 9th SRW. A phone call to the Pentagon by 9th SRW Commander Colonel Patrick Halloran resulted in the following, as Pat said: "The problems just went away". The critical war assessment missions were flown as scheduled and we departed Seymour Johnson in April of 1974. I am sure they were glad to see us go home.

The photos show the trailer which was purchased and moved into the hangar for SR-71 Operational Control and the Photo Processing Center which was comprised of 2X4's and plastic sheeting to keep the dust out. The two SR's were parked side by side in the hangar with the KC-135Q tanker opposite the Blackbirds. The flights lasted 10 or 11 hours and in one instance, the Pilot had to be assisted out of the Blackbird. The photo reconnaissance "Take" resulted in conclusive evidence of the location of Arab and Israeli forces. The photos provided the President and Defense Analysts with firm decision making capabilities to help defuse the Yom Kippur War.

OL-SB Photo Archive

[deadpanwalking]

ooh! i am Not Like Those Other Anons, but if you're still feeling generous-- ldo you have anything about, say, the technological and social advancements in 19th century london-- i'm thinking bazalgette and john snow and building the london underground, henry mahew and london labor and the london poor, shit like that, maybe as a gestalt or the zeitgeist or what have you?

I love the specificity! I hope it's not a cop out, but if it's zeitgeist and/or gestalt ye be wanting, I want to recommend an author instead of a book: Peter Ackroyd.

My first introduction to Ackroyd was through a literary biography of T.S. Eliot, which he wrote during a time when Eliot's widow, Valerie Eliot (in accordance to his wishes not to be the subject of a biography) refused almost all applications to quote from Eliot's published work outside of a literary context, or to quote at all from unpublished work and correspondence. Ackroyd, who had managed to track down an enormous amount of unpublished material during the course of his research, tried to argue his case with Mrs. Eliot, but she didn't budge—however Ackroyd was confident that the material could still be useful, and went ahead, opting to paraphrase.

T.S. Eliot: A Life was considered the definitive biography of Eliot for decades despite the unavoidable awkwardness of the paraphrasing. “The lines of Eliot’s life are well-known, and Ackroyd does not effect, or seek to effect, any radical re-limning of them. [Ackroyd's] strength,” Eliot scholar and absolute lad Christopher Ricks writes, “is local detail, patience, circumstantiality, respect. [...] He eschews psychobiographical plunges, and this makes the book at once more satisfactory to the hungry and less satisfying to the greedy.”

The reason for this tangent (aside from Eliot monomania and the fact that Pyotr's vet seems to have forgotten us in the exam room) is because I wanted to give you a sense of how resourceful Ackroyd can be when he approaches his subjects from a distance, without scaling down his ambition or using sensationalism to force the impression of intimacy.

In addition to literary biographies, Ackroyd has written (and is still writing 🥳) a lot of books about London and Londoners—I've only read two: London: A Biography and London: Under. I know historical sociology isn't always the best approach and constantly undermines its own credibility by oversimplifying some aspects of a complicated subject at the expense of others—but when it comes to writing about an era, you can't get more zeitgeistian than psychogeographical writing that focuses on everyday life. You cannot. You'd die trying.

The title of London: A Biography is straightforward: London lives, so it makes sense to approach it the way a biographer would. It doesn't quite fit the limitations you set (19th century) because it begins in the Late Jurassic period. Nevertheless, you might appreciate it because—despite its insane scope and breadth—it does something really great, which I can't describe better than Patrick McGrath did in the NYT blurb:

This, then, is an unorthodox history of London that is fascinating not only for what Ackroyd selects but also for what he ignores. There is barely an aristocrat to be seen in these pages. The Earl of Sandwich appears when, unable to tear himself away from the gaming table for 24 hours straight, he puts a piece of beef between two slices of bread and invents one of England's few enduring contributions to world cuisine. The House of Commons is mentioned only because it burned in 1834, ''which provoked some of the most picturesque London paintings,'' including works by Constable and Turner. ''These artists recognized,'' Ackroyd writes, ''that in the heart of the flame they might also evoke the spirit and presence of the city itself.'' The great statesman Pitt the Younger appears only once, in connection with the ''Bog House Miscellany.''

The other book, London: Under, is going to fit you like a glove, but it's more of a companion piece than a stand-alone book, despite being well-written—Ackroyd doesn't start in the Late Jurassic period, but definitely takes the scenic route from Roman Britain to get to Bazalgette's sewers, and Pearson's Metropolitan Railway. One of the reasons I'm recommending it now is because I always pore through bibliographies and references to poach for more books to read, and I distinctly remember that Ackroyd's bibliography contained some fascinating titles that I will, realistically-speaking, never get to because my own interests and priorities tend toward the literary. RIP to me, but you're different!

[queer-ragnelle]

I'm coming from having fallen in love with the show bbc merlin and then reading roger lancelyn green, then howard pyle. I really loved green's way of presenting balin and balan, and the way they seal their own fates, and the dolorous stroke. (I also loved his gareth/beaumains! best part of the book in imo.) as for pyle, I loved his strange, wild magic adventures and the dialogue between arthur and merlin as merlin is tiredly asking him to please not fight every knight he sees. can you recommend anything with gareth, anything wonderfully tragic about balin and balan, anything that focuses on the magic and setting, or anything that just made you laugh to read?

Hi anon!

Welcome to Arthuriana. I loooove Howard Pyle. Have you read all 4 books? Highly recommend the whole series. Sounds to me as if you’re looking for more retellings, so that’s what I’ll give you.

As always, if the author is out of print or has passed, I’ll share a PDF. But if they’re alive, I link to goodreads so you can learn more about the book and decide if you want to purchase.

Gareth Beaumains

Books

Exiled From Camelot by Cherith Baldry

Hunt of the Hart Royal by Cherith Baldry

Under Camelot's Banner by Sarah Zettel

Gareth and Lynette by Alfred Lord Tennyson

How Gareth Won His Spurs by Reverend James Yeames

The Savage Damsel and The Dwarf by Gerald Morris

Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger

Movies & TV [Watch movies here!] [Watch TV Shows here!]

Knights of the Round Table (1953)

Sword of Lancelot (1963)

Arthur of the Britons (1972-73)

BBC The Legend of King Arthur (1979)

Kaamelott First Installment (2021)

Balin & Balan

Books

Balin and Balan by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Tale of Balen by Algernon Charles Swinburne

The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by John Steinbeck

The Knight With the Two Swords by Edward M. Erdelac

Magic & Setting

Books

The Crystal Cave, The Hollow Hills, The Last Enchantment, & The Wicked Day by Mary Stewart

The Warlord Chronicles by Bernard Cornwell

The Book of Mordred & The Last Knight of Albion by Peter Hanratty

Lancelot & Gawain by Gwen Rowley

The Squire's Tales Series by Gerald Morris

Tales From the Mabinogion by Gwyn Thomas, Kevin Crossley-Holland, & Margaret Jones

The Quest for Olwen by Gwyn Thomas, Kevin Crossley-Holland, & Margaret Jones

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight by Selina Hastings

Sir Gawain and The Loathly Lady by Selina Hastings

Movies & TV [Watch movies here!] [Watch TV Shows here!]

The Adventures of Sir Galahad (1949)

The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956-57)

Knights of the Round Table (1953)

Prince Valiant (1954)

The Sword in The Stone (1963)

Camelot (1967)

Arthur of the Britons (1972-73)

Gawain and The Green Knight (1973)

Monty Python and The Holy Grail (1975)

BBC The Legend of King Arthur (1979)

Excalibur (1981)

Fire and Sword (1981)

Merlin and The Sword (1985)

Merlin (1998)

Kaamelott (2005-09)

Starz Camelot (2011)

Arthur & Merlin (2015)

Arthur & Merlin: Knights of Camelot (2020)

Kaamelott First Installment (2021)

Laugh Out Loud Funny to Read

Lancelot & Gawain by Gwen Rowley

The Squire's Tales Series by Gerald Morris

Muppet King Arthur by Paul Benjamin & Patrick Storick

Modern Arthur Series by Peter David

Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger

Hope that gives you some stuff to chew on, anon. Have a great week!

[brokehorrorfan]

Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio will be released on 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray, and DVD on December 12 via The Criterion Channel. James Jean designed the cover art for Netflix's 2022 stop motion animated adapation of Carlo Collodi's 1883 novel.

Guillermo del Toro co-directs with Mark Gustafson from a script by del Toro and Patrick McHale (Over the Garden Wall). Ewan McGregor, David Bradley, Gregory Mann, Burn Gorman, Ron Perlman, John Turturro, Finn Wolfhard, Cate Blanchett, Tim Blake Nelson, Christoph Waltz, and Tilda Swinton star.

Pinocchio has been digitally mastered in 4K, supervised by del Toro and Gustafson, with Dolby Atmos sound. It's presented in 4K with Dolby Vision HDR.

Special features are listed below, where you can also see the full packaging.

Special features:

Handcarved Cinema - Making-of documentary with co-directors Guillermo del Toro and Mark Gustafson and cast and crew (new)

Directing Stop-Motion - Featurette with Guillermo del Toro and Mark Gustafson (new)

Interview with Guillermo del Toro by film critic Farran Smith Nehme (new)

Interview with curator Ron Magliozzi on The Museum of Modern Art’s exhibition devoted to the film (new)

Featurette on the 8 rules of animation that informed the production (new)

Panel discussion with Guillermo del Toro, Mark Gustafson, production designer Guy Davis, composer Alexandre Desplat, and sound designer Scott Martin Gershin, moderated by filmmaker James Cameron

Conversation with Guillermo del Toro, Mark Gustafson, and author Neil Gaiman

Booklet with essays by film critic Matt Zoller Seitz and author Cornelia Funke

A classic tale is reborn through the inspired imagination of cinematic dream-weaver Guillermo del Toro, directing alongside Mark Gustafson. Realized through boundary-pushing, breathtakingly intricate stop-motion animation, this dark rendering of the fable of the puppet boy and his maker daringly transfers the story to Fascist Italy, where the irrepressible Pinocchio gradually learns what it means to be human through his experiences of war, death, and sacrifice. This Pinocchio imbues the oft-told tale with a bold new resonance about living with courage and compassion.

Pre-order Pinocchio.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

📋 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐌 𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐀𝐑𝐎, 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟒𝟎𝐱𝟒𝟎 📋

📌 ARO jam recipients (as of May 27th, 2024)

Tracy Robbins (designer, wife of Paramount Pictures CEO Brian Robbins) *

Delfina Balquier (Argentine socialite, wife of Nacho Figueras) * and Nacho Figueras (professional polo player) *

Kelly Mckee Zajfen (friend, Alliance of Moms founder) *

Mindy Kaling (actress and comedian) *

Tracee Ellis Ross (actress, daughter of Diana Ross)

Abigail Spencer (friend, Suits co-star) *

Chrissy Teigen (television personality, wife of John Legend)

Kris Jenner ('Momager') *

Garcelle Beauvais (actress, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills) *

Heather Dorak (friend, yoga instructor) *

📌 Archetypes podcast guests

Serena Williams 🏆

Mariah Carey 👑

Mindy Kaling (actress and comedian) *

Margaret Cho (comedian and actress)

Lisa Ling (journalist and tv personality)

Deepika Padukone (Indian actress)

Jenny Slate (actress and comedian)

Constance Wu (actress)

Paris Hilton (entrepreneur, socialite, activist)

Iliza Shlesinger (comedian and actress)

Issa Rae (actress and writer)

Ziwe (comedian and writer)

Sophie Grégoire Trudeau (former wife of Canadian PM Trudeau)

Pamela Adlon (actress)

Sam Jay (comedian and writer)

Mellody Hobson (President and co-CEO of $14.9B Ariel Investments, Chairwoman of Starbucks Corporation, wife of George Lucas)

Victoria Jackson (entrepreneur, wife of Bill Guthy: founder of Guthy-Renker, leading direct marketing company)

Jameela Jamil (actress, television host)

Shohreh Aghdashloo (Iranian and American actress)

Michaela Jaé Rodriguez (actress and singer)

Candace Bushnell (Sex and The City writer)

Trevor Noah (South African comedian)

Andy Cohen (talk show host)

Judd Apatow (director, producer, screenwriter)

source

📌 40x40 participants

Adele 🌟

Amanda Gorman (poet and activist)

Amanda Nguyen (activist)

Ayesha Curry (actress, cooking television personality)

Ciara (singer and actress)

Deepak Chopra (author and alternative medicine advocate)

Dr. Nadine Burke Harris (former Surgeon General of California)

Elaine Welteroth (former Editor-in-Chief of Teen Vogue)

Dr. Ibram X Kendi (professor and anti-racism activist)

Fernando Garcia (creative director of Oscar de la Renta)

Gabrielle Union (actress)

Gloria Steinem (feminist journalist and social-political activist)

Hillary Clinton (politician, wife of former US President Bill Clinton)

Katie Couric (journalist) *

Kerry Washington (actress)

Chef José Andrés (founder of World Central Kitchen)

Melissa McCarthy (actress)

Princess Eugenie (member of British Royal Family)

Priyanka Chopra (actress)

Sarah Paulson (actress)

Sofia Carson (actress)

Sophie Grégoire Trudeau (former wife of Canadian PM)

Stella McCartney (fashion designer, daughter of Paul McCartney)

Dr. Theresa "Tessy" Ojo - CBE, FRSA (Diana Award CEO)

Tracee Ellis Ross (actress, daughter of Diana Ross)

Unconfirmed - Edward Enninful (former Editor-in-Chief of British Vogue)

Unconfirmed - Daniel Martin (makeup artist) *

An official list of all "40x40" participants was never disclosed

source 1 // source 2 // source 3

📌 Notes:

Names with an asterisk (*) indicate that they follow ARO on Instagram

Notably missing from these lists: Netflix CEO Ted Sarandos and wife Nicole Avant, Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez, Beyoncé, Tina Knowles, Tyler Perry, Oprah Winfrey, Gayle King, Kevin Costner, Ellen DeGeneres, Portia Rossi *, Brooke Shields, John Travolta, Kelly Rowland, Holly Robinson Peete, Misan Harriman *, Michael Bublé

Wedding guests missing from these lists: Jessica Mulroney, George and Amal Clooney, David and Victoria Beckham, Idris Elba and Sabria Dhowre, James Blunt and Sofia Wellesley, Janina Gavankar, Elton John and David Furnish, James Corden and Julia Carey, Patrick J. Adams and the rest of the cast of Suits, Joss Stone, Tom Hardy and Charlotte Riley, Carey Mulligan and Marcus Mumford [Source]

Sunshine Sachs must've called in a LOT of favors to get so many famous names on board the Archetypes Podcast and the 40x40 project. Vanity projects that went... nowhere.

Without Sunshine Sachs, IMO it's highly unlikely that M will ever be able to reach the same level of celebrity access on her own.

If there are any names missing from these lists, please comment below 👇

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author: SeptièmeSens

submitted: May 27, 2024 at 06:44PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.